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com> wrote:
From: Devin Cuthbertson <dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com>
Subject: Fw:
To: dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com
Date: Thursday, November 20, 2008, 1:07 PM
ars
HEIL
Lil Wayne
• Z
Most recently referenced by Jay- in the song "Say Hello": "Y'all ain't gave me 40
Acres and a mule/So I got my Glock 40 now I'm cool"
Jack."
• In the song "Nellyville" performed by Hip-Hop artist Nelly, in describing a fictional city,
he sings "40 acres and a mule, fuck that, Nellyville, 20 acres and a pool."
• In the song "On my way to Georgia": Fishscales says "40 acres and mule give me 2 and a
porsche"
• On the episode of The Daily Show on November 6 2008, Senior Black Correspondent
Larry Wilmore made a reference to 40 acres and a mule when speaking about President-
Elect Barack
and a mule"
O ma ba . He says "we would have been happy with 40 acres
• In an episode of "My Name is Earl" Joy Turner makes reference to this, believing that her
African-American husband Darnell and their son have it coming to them. When Darnell
tells her his family migrated from Canada, she tells him "When they come around with
the mules, you let me do the talking!"
[ e
•
d it] Primary sources
Library of Congress: A Century of Lawmaking for a New Nation: U.S. Congressional
Documents and Debates, 1774-1875: "An act to enlarge the powers of the Freedmen's
Bureau," 39th Congress, 1st Session, S.60
• Significant Dates on Black Land Loss - from Federation of Southern Cooperatives Land
Assistance Fund
Part of a series on
Slavery
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Africa · Atlantic
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Angola · Britain and Ireland
Brazil · Canada
India · Iran
Japan · Libya
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Sudan · British Virgin Islands
United States
Swedish slave trade
Contemporary slavery
Modern Africa · Debt bondage
Penal labour · Sexual slavery
Unfree labour · Wage slavery
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resistance
Abolitionism
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First Servile War
Notable opponents of slavery
Slave rebellion · Slave narrative
This box: view • talk • edit
Peter, a slave from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 1863. The scars are a result of a
whipping by his overseer, who was subsequently fired by the master. It took two
months to recover from the beating.
Slavery in the United States began soon after English colonists first settled Virginia in 1607
and lasted as a legal institution until the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment to the United
States Constitution in 1865.
Before the widespread establishment of chattel slavery, much labor was organized under a
system of bonded labor known as indentured servitude. This typically lasted for several years for
white and black alike, and it was a means of using labor to pay the costs of
transporting people to the colonies.[1] By the 18th century, court rulings established the racial
basis of the American incarnation of slavery to apply chiefly to Black Africans and people of
African descent, and occasionally to Native Americans. A 1705 Virginia law stated slavery would
apply to those peoples from nations that were not Christian.[2] In part because of the success of
tobacco as a cash crop in the Southern colonies, its labor-intensive character caused planters to
import more slaves for labor by the end of the 17th century than did the northern colonies. The
South had a significantly higher number and proportion of slaves in the population.[1] Religious
differences contributed to this geographic disparity as well.
From 1654 until 1865, slavery for life was legal within the boundaries of much of the present
United States.[3] Most slaves were black and were held by whites, although some Native
Americans and free blacks also held slaves; there were a small number of white slaves as well.
southern
The majority of slaveholding was in the
slaves were engaged in an efficient machine-like gang system of agriculture. According to the
1860 U.S. census, nearly four million slaves were held in a total population of just over 12
million in the 15 states in which slavery was legal.[4] Of all 8,289,782 free persons in the 15 slave
states, 393,967 people (4.8%) held slaves, with the average number of slaves held by any single
owner being 10.[4][5] The majority of slaves were held by planters, defined by historians as those
who held 20 or more slaves.[6] Ninety-five percent of black people lived in the South, comprising
one-third of the population there, as opposed to 2% of the population of the North.[7] The wealth
of the United States in the first half of the 19th century was greatly enhanced by the labor of
African Americans.[8][9]
But with the Union victory in the American Civil War, the slave-labor system was abolished in
the South.[10] This contributed to the decline of the postbellum Southern economy, but it was
most affected by the continuing decline in the price of cotton through the end of the century.[11]
That made it difficult for the region to recover from the war, as did its comparative lack of
infrastructure, which kept products from markets. The South faced significant new competition
from foreign cotton producers such as India and Egypt . Northern industry,
which had expanded rapidly before and during the war, surged even further ahead of the South's
agricultural economy. Industrialists from northeastern states came to dominate many aspects of
the nation's life, including social and some aspects of political affairs. The planter class of the
South lost power temporarily. The rapid economic development following the Civil War
accelerated the development of the modern U.S. industrial economy.
Twelve million Africans were shipped to the Americas from the 16th to the 19th centuries.[12][13]
Of these, an estimated 645,000 were brought to what is now the United States. The largest
number were shipped to Brazil.[14] The slave population in the United States had grown to four
million by the 1860 Census.[15]
The United States is unique in that it was both the first Western country to have government
sponsored abolition of slaves (through individual Northern states in the early Republic), and the
last Western country to free all of its slaves (at the end of the Civil War in 1865).
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DAMN DAMMONS - On the silver platform our candidate stood -the one for democracy and
made his speech of Emancis Nazis turnout Proclomo. If he won “um”, “ur”, “Uber Menschen”
he could tuck you in a Middle Passage. He was on the podium about to do the biggest feat he's
ever done. Before he said the first phrase he made a sound through his pant’s seams expressively.
More so this was his spirit coming forth into the day schizophrenic, before himself altered in
words. It was the quiet howl reserved for stages and public arenas and this was nature’s way of
getting his engine going with a boost. His body was uncontrollable sometimes, voicing itself and
saying things he couldn’t, nor knew how to utter singularly voluntarily. He knew biologically
that his nature was very polluted suffering through lifelong stomach ailments and so he
composed himself in a better position to feel more stoical, positioning himself to look more like
a leader. He made many mistakes in the past not ever wanting to prostitute his chaos again, so he
fixed up quickly, hoping no one caught him in a disarray composing himself. Transforming he
reversed his muffler from the back to instead use his mouth. It was for the audience and then he
coughed to break up his phlegm, siphoning something different because he never scatted his
‘ologies in jazz unless they weren’t meaningfully plural. He was rigorous and disciplined
intellectually trying to get to an abstract place as a person. Coded and veiled would have to be
the persona underneath his urges. His body parts were interchangeable and so some roared while
others gasped depending on how he juxtaposed them in relation to one another like his body was
a band – a skinny quartet amplified by the space around him and it was stuck to an animal’s body
as a cord. Guarding him were national sentinels latexing on cell phones: "Backup Information",
"Disregard". He had a wife and two daughters, the other opponent had none just adopted Krishna
engines. This man lost the race and folded out the story from being obsolescent. Damn got
elected because he was more of a family man, likable for that reason and he valued it cause he
came from a socially stigmatized setup. Fractured it was his dad not being there, estranged
purely elsewhere. So all this seemed to prod being on the lexicon authority where he was about
to catch true authority simultaneous with Transit as a southern migrant boy enters into his cabinet
making the trip to Damn as his guest giving him a hug when he got there. He too came to a
bridge out the underground and watched through a window from a train…ed mechanism: “dis a
glorious city” he said when he arrived to see Damn near The White House. All the songs of hard
glory days arose to sound off breezy ambience of American slave songs - a symphonic chorus
which only sounded like whispers in the wind (can’t penetrate through some threshold) in the
presence of the boy in front of the White House on the pedestal. Damn’s young friend had tamed
the air of loudness and its porous qualities. And then Damn spoke, the crowd goers applauded -
he continued. As he was erecting his temperament in a correct posture he heard an animal sound
blended with music and the cries of the ceremony. From a wire he felt a tug and then heard
shrieking like iron dragging on asphalt. The falcon's skin is cyan but fades to black, Beige and
then albino white coming through the prism – down a runway in an invisible obelisk turned
horizontal: radiating in a wavy “s”from the veranda Damn stood under, spitting the warred
version of a black dove the figure in Damn mirrored. This energy was out, fulfilling itself in the
air that all would breathe. The falcon squawked as it made its exit drowning out the drone of
alarms and voices which was like a secret through a whisper, for Damn’s ears only. He scanned
the spectacle that was his to see if anyone else heard this odd discordant noise. To him, his
olfactory heard a bulldozer scraping its shovel along a street, an elongated crashing sound and
under its vibration was a moaning of the voices in the wind with cheering, buzzers and sirens
blended in their songs. They didn’t Z and didn’t Hair but Damn did like Goku N’gro/chosen one.
The Falcon is omega/zeta, it don’t like Feta cheese. Just like the beam of light it travelled
through, the struggle for the animal to get through, was evidenced by its journey in its dragging
the edges of its body along the wall of this light that was a tight squeeze to be contained in. Just
as Damn was about to speak the falcon dissipated allowing the air possession coming out of its
narrow temple’s opening. The bird circled above as it propelled itself out the ending of its source
where the stream of light was diminishing hazy as it trailed the falcon’s trajectory. Flying low
and then darting vertically the falcon in the membrane rose like a jet shuttle and exploded from
this vein of light. It flew as if it itself was connected and captured to a cord it went into a
different destination, out the reach of the masses into the clouds far in the sky. Trying to imitate
the promise of this sunlit day but instead becoming enveloped: Damn started to remember the
night before - getting to his daughters and his wife in his mind through that vessel. He had
scanned the environment one last time amazed that no one else was aware of the miraculous
thing that just took place. As he turned his head around to face the audience who was waiting, he
seen a red, then a yellow burst of light shield his vision and as then seeing darkness he fainted
but not before shouting O. He was attached to this bird from this moment on not having known
how to distinguish his dualities and it took him places. All the other days were like being
contained in a tunnel of a white field except for this one, this one that broke the noise of all the
white fun for a second then it’s done. They surf through a passage, start back all over again to
end in sun then it’s done but.....the falcon travelled with, in, through, him at the speed of
oblivions. The rest is history rest24u1dcvi vsugbsyrtb6bbb5^$%$%$&$##X%@%#WY
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The fireplace was located in a cozy spot for fire being in a place where they enjoyed it most. On
the podium he took himself back to the night before he fainted that day coming into his new
office. He was now at the site of a ritual, sitting at a table where his family held hands saying
grace with a blaze lighting their faces. In the yesterday of his today, now being father and not
president, in the memory he was with his queen heartily in heart service with his children who
cherished his pride and ambition - his new soul moreover. Unleashing Keys - Secret Black
Love. He had words before there were words but for his daughters he had none just a secret
language only. He shunned their ordinary corruption towards the mundane and its banal
romances. They sat in the rented presidential suite, had dinner, reserving the day for them/he to
talk about what’s happened and what could possibly come, for he was expecting a certain
amount of violence to upstage his maximum position station to make forever days forever
again. For he felt and believed in himself as the same thing that he had been before – before he
was taken by the bird that he did not know existed now around him but was his mode of travel.
His grandmother prompted him way earlier should they assassinate him and so he was prepared
with a pocket full of bills laced with ancient imaged toxins to be clutched in fist eventually then
8 so he had suspicions about mysteries although being a rational man. He… his daughter’s name
was Aliyah, the other Zaire. They were watching the news of Daddy's success, talking about it,
discussing it but then broader issues came up. Like : "Daddy why does the line on your face
move whenever you're on TV talking but never to me? TV has a crisis with surgery it does to a
honest muscle. "I don’t know Zaire but I'll try to talk more how I talk to you except on TV how
about that"? “No don’t do that, I just wanted to know why that happens” Zaire responded to her
father. "Do you know what day it is girls"? They pretended ignorance - they know but do what
girls do which is force the conversation from the adults as if to withhold that which they know in
favor of perceived innocence - so they don’t confess. A commercial interrupted the flow of
familial sentimentality and an SNL nigger advertised his new album pantomiming in the silent
film then jewels from Santana in orchid coral reef around Middle Passages sank that ocean. On
the exterior it came to surface in a blink. After that show there was a Utopian Car Commercial :
"I'm a changed man/ look at the range man I got a whole new game plan". (I know) "Zaire,
Aliyah this is a big moment your dad’s about to interview with a very important announcer on an
important TV show and I need to know what you guys think". Tank. "About it"! Nomad sounds
like demon backwards and vice versa if his outlook permitted him to start remembering his past.
Some of those memories were in the corners of a terrible land like mice hide from people. His
dreams of life never went in such a dismal direction as backward or forward at this point – he
was utterly located inside a glass grammar sign while licking the last morsels around the edge of
his spoon, being contained as mercury inside the horn of a question mark’s meter that was his
state’s country. Being encased inside this hooked sign was his wily red fury needing to be
sequestered – separated from the brain he sat on waiting to hatch it from the heart inside the shell
of a dot he rested over, waiting to birth them from an imagined place in his new ideal. He needed
to get in it – an egg: He was a question and marked by travelled brilliance. From everything he
had learned about the past, he was incubating his thoughts and “marinating on it” so he could
know from whence and how to proceed. It was second nature and even rational for him to be
thrust in its pain if he acted emotionally. He would be its violence in the period that was not him.
It was not smart enough for him though – not disciplined enough, too temporary and above all
too expected for the exceptional person in himself that through detachment and confidence he
would use to do his job well. As his ancestors had risen from bondage so he had to reject all the
failed shapes that had given him servitude and he mashed all the food on his plate in his mouth
looking at his daughter not reflecting at all on those horrible times as his family dined in the
bedroom inside The White House. He smiled at her while they were watching each other eat.
Then when his mouth was full with food he smiled again to hide his cheek’s lumps filled with
supper. “Eew daddy” Aliyah said as she was disgusted yet amused when he opened this smile to
let out his tongue where mashed foodstuffs and “seefood” lay massacred. Its juices coming
through the gaps of his teeth. “Stop that Damn” his wife the Essence said and his daughters
giggled. “Mind your manners” and giving his wife an obedient glance which hid the mischief, he
slurped the last bit up catching food inside drool like a grappling hook or extensions superheroes
use to save victims from a fall with webbing. Or as a chameleon better yet. The room they were
in had hues of reds, oranges, browns and lots of beiges as it was old fashion varnish materials
with some flies that existed in it - the space. The White House had been evacuated and
afterwards it was remodeled to hold small apartments for politicians in need of temporary
housing in between their trips to Washington and their second homes elsewhere. The White
House was however to be this President’s first home yet in transition as President elect to his
inauguration he and his family had to settle on this temporary home just until tomorrow where he
had come from. Inside this unit was modular, outfitted with paneling that was working class and
blasted with sprays of urban domesticity and so it looked like a Project condominium inside. The
fake fixtures of pleasantries, ran through the space, where it’s nuclei at the dining room was
focused in the fire place and the mass manufactured glisten off the kitchen unit. It looked
important however being spacious and suited to the homeliness Damn liked never having it
growing up being homeless even at times. His study was a different matter. It looked like a:
CEO's office without the taxidermy echoed in a dead owl’s eye to make the whole scene look
insane if it wasn’t already – a kitchen unit. The falcon felt scared seeing the preserved animals
yet relieved once again realizing the space wasn’t Damn’s. It made air sounds too when you went
into the entrance like it was futuristic and hollow. Slits, vents in the environment sucked in the
virus on conversation and then went silent until Zaire broke the ice with a warmer, renewing
breath taking it from a hermit in the North Pole when she said " what’s gonna happen when you
die , I don’t know if I want my hair to turn blond". She prophesized somehow about
transformations that meant future generations of colored kids (like her) having to sacrifice their
blond birth marked hair for fuel needed in precise architectural blood structures - and their
scalps. “I had a dream last night daddy” is how she tried to explain. She couldn’t and as her
father was very strict towards his daughters being able to articulate themselves he put his albows
on the table waiting for the sense to arise from her mouth but she was stuttering and embarrassed
to tell him about the images, thinking he wouldn’t understand. She herself adored her dreams
liking to sleep yet was her own critic of wanting to be able to express the inventory of images
that collected after having them but never could. Her sister always taunted her for this and in the
way that Zaire always made her frustration intensify, storming from the table not bothering to
excuse herself when Aliyah commenced in her remarks. She went into her temporary room to be
alone and looked at videos on the 1949 internet. Damn and Essence not being angry however
allowed her her tantrums understanding how she was growing into her girlhood as a loner. To
him she showed classic signs of how he had been as a child, permitting her solitude at moments
in order for her to think herself through because he knew afterwards she would have an answer
for him eventually. “Its fine” he gestured to his wife. “Leave your sister alone she’s gonna have
something to tell you and you’ll feel embarrassed if you keep on knawing at her” giving Aliyah a
stern warning about being an instigator and her understanding that it was he who truly would
prove the ultimatum and not Zaire, to be afraid of if she was punished. In her room Zaire turned
on her computer and began to cry. Her face lit up against the black darkness of the space being in
a rush for a hiding place not bothering to turn the bedroom light on and slamming the door as her
tiny frame could however making just a whine and then a muffled “pufp”. She turned on the site
to where she could see her favorite singers but was interested in a still amongst the other squares
in the screen that showed a girl against a city background frozen with her mouth open as if she
only needed the attention of a click to be animated. Zaire clicked on it. The girl in the video
looked like an image of what her dad did not want her to become being what he had warned her
against if she did not keep up in her studies and imaginings. He had an extra attention to this
feature in his daughter for he seen the explorer in himself that he seen in her, through them both
being creative and individualistic. She payed these teachings no mind not liking most her dad’s
friends who she knew influenced him to tell her things. As she watched astonished and enthralled
by the girl who was a delinquent albeit yet going through routines of songs and singing them as
if the life of her and her friends were on the line in her being able to entertain. She belted and
crooned to songs Zaire had recognized touching a place in her that made her feel that to her
family and to everything she knew she did not belong. Sharing at that moment a kinship that
made her feel more defiant like what she saw in the girl on the video. For afterwards she would
have something to prove to her teacher who told her to set her heights high, her not believing
though that “this was a clichéd vision of romance hidden in futility”.
The falcon existed invisible now perched on her shoulder and then flew back to New York City
in a feudal future to Tompkins Square Park relocated, seeing crossbreeding of rats with squirrels.
Black Mutants. White Mutates. White Mutants they would be toos. Perched in the open field
now turned skate park reconstructed, it sees story seen through a diamond gridded fence on a
bridge then focused to see another one - difficult amongst the faded gray ambience of clouds and
buildings. Their dust blends spreading the gloomy urban landscape in ash so the atmosphere is
thick enough to burn like its concrete fields. It was an environment with its atmosphere dispersed
densely to its brink that could feed a respiratory system of new people without them being
congested by it. Inside it’s encasement he thought aloud” will it turn blond? “Ever”? “How
does the foreign European accent sound the falcon thinking” wanting to recall those days from
the blond sky, “when there weren’t Crusaders” he said to himself talking about a moment that
was neither there nor now. “Lazily moaning as if too tired for sex is the gal” he answered back to
himself. “Her mouth is something else when she breathes like letting out the last cascade of fluid
or drool”. Hearing this as he zeroed into a conversation between a tribe of these urban dwellers
he was watching and using his beak to make those sounds. “We are the true infantiles”! her
American lover screams swoping into a youthful set of teenagers walking in the city he was in.
To another friend the boy says: “these ScanDavs want the leather real bad cause we Rule with
our clothes off”! The bird said to himself in his confusion mocking its participants he was trying
to be a part of, getting some of the language wrong to sound more like Olde English: “Don’t you
people have sex with ya pants off and if so therefore without a condom on your tongues, be lucid
but don’t drain the air that holds speech”. “Pinch it at The End to save the Maury Povich baby in
a freezer” perching himself like a confident parrot who’s mastered his trainers dialect through
mimickry, being invisible though on the shoulder of one of these persons, the group did not
notice him to critique whatever he may have gotten wrong.“Fuck that nigga’s snot!” They called
back at another pedestrian and the bird felt excited thinking he could enter into the talk at this
point being learned and aroused but not being scene. “And what about the kindergard fasten on
ya lips the same as the major and minor, the way to poles to evolve through” was what he was
replying back to the girl he was atop whispering deafly in her ear without her hearing. “Every
self important New York Rugged, (art related yuppie male) – mostly males – devour their
modesty and humiliation with a pale, taller than 5 ‘9 , pale model with a more ferocious mouth
than theirs” she goes on to one of her friends. “Usually best if they’re from Scandinavia “if
possible”…… “so as to be as impossibly exotic as there mate’s character and personality”. In
unison the two joking girlfriends sound off in a humorous understanding that caught the falcon
off guard as it sounded prerehearsed : “for they themselves were a diasporic Viking displaced
before NYC made them primitively average”!!!! “Ha, ha, ha ,ha ha”, they go on to laugh at each
other with some of the boys showing signs of disapproval. “Primitively average” one friend says
in a question as if about to dispute. “Yeah cause sex must be horrendous with these translucent
skinned gazelles”. They pulled up onto an outdoor bench and sat down while the one with the
best warlord designs said: “Lemme see somodat fayke Bayking Souda”. Realizing his purpose
was defeated the falcon flies off this shoulder as they are walking and stands on a building atop
all the trees, telephone wire and every other sign with all the architecture that ornaments this
group, seeing now the tops of their heads. They talk, walking on the New Neth Ave of A, which
has all been magnetized with force that becomes him too - channeling it all being magnetized
and taking it back with him where he tries to find his counterpart in Damn again. Its nighttime
and having extra timeon his schedule until departure his curiosity made him follow the teenagers
until the Land reads : JUST THE IMPORTANT PEOPLE, JUST THOSE WITH A NAME,
JUST THE IMPORTANT PEOPLE FOR ALL WE CANNOT FORGET TO NAME WHO
HAVE A HOUSE WITH A NAME. Arriving at the travelers INN on his way to the emerging
castle which was gigantic in the reconstructed environment, he can’t go inside and flies away.
Got a way. Looking into the sky in the direction of the moon he thinks “no time to reminiss in
this street scene that is New Neth in a LES city as it went Bushwick’ed”. “There is a future
president about to be in thee in 1949; yes he was a beautiful youth grunge but now in the shelter
of the world you guys aim for asbestos”. “Shu! cause I’m on a deadline”.
Splitting from its person as now it is just the falcon gliding as he got through a black hole, seeing
cream colored dust in the corners of the president elect’s vacated hotel room with beige walls.
There were long stick’d brooms and mops are too stupid instruments for maidservice/housewifey
made to swab the ceiling deck after they’ve left. Palin’g crecks. A black nationalist plaid pattern
appear on my mental screen is what the pilot in the falcon thinks to no one: “this is sci- fi talk”
was an answer. Utilize social systems even if it means allying with the police was advice given
in college days to his counterpart but right now he’s calling back to his base in the air traffic
control center; “I’m looking for where the president might be now”. Getting notice as it’s about
to take flight the falcon sees green fabric clung to fence (it was a dyed warrior remnant from
long ago): “It’s not here”. Blue water for Black Negro Intellect Who is Self Schooled = No
Respect and The Upper Middle Class Half Black Book Smarty won him legitimacy: “Not
there either”. Memories can’t be taken up in the sky anymore (he's no "bag lady") so
he remembers Anymore/Nevermore cycles being aware of his crow-like similarities to doom, he
changes his color to golden, suiciding his blue/black/white body for the new body that lay await
where having gotten it right by getting lost he finds his partner in Damn: “Don’t worry about it
guys I found ‘em but what year is it though”. All the while being in pursuit the falcon helped the
childish sky on training wheels to turn the Axel of the circle to Damn's day so he can
reconstitute to a new category - a day closer to inauguration: He learns that his mate has
been elected after the Santa ( ill ) Na Na commercial on TV. Stunned with a newfound
responsibility when tomorrow comes looking at his image, Damn looks unmoved as he picks up
the mag and smiles to his wife being his Essence. He looked at it proudly but graciously and said
"Remember what I said about D words…… make sure you can explain them even when posed in
questions Aliyah". He said this in response to his daughters asking him about dying albeit
20mins later. Aliyah blurted out to her father without knowing what Zaire had been talking about
as she sits entranced still in her room, "but Daddy both your names start with "D" too"? He
didn’t respond nor did he answer Zaire's last statement knowing she would probably lose interest
later anyway, slightly arrogantly assuming "she will know when the time is right". 60 mins past
and then the 60 Minutes reporter left - the family had mash potatoes and talked more. Morely to
lead up to next 8hour later- convening speech time tomorrow afternoon/evening. Dinner with
family done, talked about a lot more than what could be written /transcibed, reporter left in
60mins, eat dinner, slept. No lovemaking. Woke up in the middle of the night to rehearse speech
then went back to bed. But not before seeing CNN which was reporting a case about a boy who
allegedly murdered his father, seeming very odd and interesting to Damn. The falcon and Damn
were alone together now as the bird had caught up with him, getting a direction arriving later on
in the night where he regurgitated, when Damn’s family had gone to sleep. An expose was
supposed to follow after plotting Damn’s uprise headlined DAMN DAMMONS REVEALED!
At this time Damn had been reading Abraham Lincoln and FDR not coincidentally as he wanted
to be prepared for the tumultuous time he was inheriting learning about slavery and the
depression leading up to the Civil Rights movement. He was audaciously hopeful even though he
didn't have to be because he embodied Destiny - or so he thought. Maybe? The falcon is
agnostic though not caring to watch the spectacular documentary about the boy killer. In his eyes
- he didn’t believe nor disbelieve in the existence of God he only needed proof which was
paradoxical somewhat because he was a messenger and linked to Damn who was faithful. For
now he let reason be his guide until the moment when "The Message" would be "Revealed" in a
different season. At the mid night hour the two gaze mesmerized unseen by each other watching
god on TV. Before it - there is a mini introduction that they mistake for a commercial but was the
opening to the documentary in a five minute display of a man on a stage against a monochrome
background. The only thing colored in it was the slow animated figure walking against a gray
cityscape, in a street shot, closing then phasing into the character on a stage who was Charlie
Chaplin-like. In the anarchy of the characters follies as he walks along the gray back with brick
tenements, he goes in one of its doors where the viewer is taken to a different scene.
Curtains in a dark empty theater are pulled by an invisible stagehand showing the man amongst
darkness with no set but a spotlight shines gently on the entertainer. He is bald, gingered colored
and wearing an effeminate version of a cowboy’s costume. Within the cameras frame he is
scanned showing the felt texture of the all brown suit, a large yellow bow tie and then the man’s
made up face being the same tone as his clothes. He has curled eyelashes with light reflecting
that had been tinted, yellow mascara outlined his eyelids faintly but around his eyes was the
powdery red blush that made his eyes blink slow as they were caked. He had what looked like a
golden nose that was molded to the exact shape of his. In the tv’s screen at this point when Damn
was watching, he sees the gold where through the camera panning, the whole screen was golden.
Carved into this gold was an ornate design that showed people in processions. Dipping though,
into the grooves and the curves of the man’s nose that the ring was made to look like, the designs
only made themselves available into the shapes Damn could recognize from being popular and
obvious having seen them in textbooks in school. Through this gazing of the brown cowboy man
with a bald head, he is making gestures slowly synced to the time in the pace of the silent,
somber theater he was dancing in. An empty time it was and so, he was doing his dance with an
ancient patience tuned to his own rhythms of silence and waiting. Pantomiming, turning his body
and twisting his arms with yellow dust glistening in the shape of an oval over the man’s mouth
crudely being placed there as if it was done in a rush. Overall his makeup was pastelly, as its
doer in the faggedy lady who did it looked like she wanted his face to resemble a primitive
cupcake. The man who could have been a ballerina in his graces and concentration, blinked his
eyes as if drums for the syncopation of his movements. With white powder and glitter being
poured over the man by a technician out from the backstage, the man keeps his motions and
Damn beginning to pay more attention, see’s the camera focus in on the dancer. The dancer’s has
a figure that turned into a cloud looking ephmeral with no definable edges as white powder
begins to overtake him. Before being totally shrouded Damn sees the white powder fall down the
made up face with a cross tattooed on his temple and swastikas drawn and smudged on his face’s
sides that were once red when Damn first seen him. The curtains close for the man like it was his
dawn and garish voices and captions of current affairs appeared afterwards on the television’s
screen. It is a documentary now that plays.
In the video, in the chambers of the police precinct the men are coercing the boy to admit he is a
perpetrator of his father's murder. God is the law and the police are creating consciousness
through their "curses" and the "curse" is a new/old tool evolving the boy's nature. We are
subordinate like he is: Damn watching the news, reading the newspaper being rendered as the
consumer - reader and author and implicated, eventually as a suspect conversely for his own,
betrayal against his vision. He is fortunate however not to have to fight for his life yet..... at least
momentarily for now. Now they make killers at 8 and those 80’s babies like the boy must've
missed the time to live in the spirit of a murderous criminality which had the benefit of allowing
him nihilism and/or ruthless rootedness in survival – like the prisoner he would become after
being found guilty. He would bide his time for the “outside” life afterwards. The falcon left this
seen of Damn in his study hopping around the house, going into the glowing entrance that was
Zaire’s room, perching on her shoulder where she had gone to sleep to the video she had been
watching the whole night, replaying it over and over. It was of the girl singing with the city’s
medieval, knighted background at her and all of her friend’s backs. At this point the video had
stopped. The friends of the girl who was spotlighted for the camera’s eye as she performed, had
participants in the somber scene that the square contained, with her friends by her side. It was
mysterious to Zaire and complicated because the celebration of the singer by her friends and
there crowding her seemed just as valuable as the singing. She felt it connected them and then
her, as she was brought into a totality. The space however into the distance felt sharp and remote.
The blinking lights against the misty, blackish- purple air and the desolation, let her know that it
was very late in the night - extracting from the kids an innocence that was bestowing sleaze. It
made her cry herself to sleep as she had already felt corrupted by her dream that she vividly saw
yet could not vocalize to any of her family. It did not escape her to look into that computer’s
screen, at the cheerful faces of those kids who were young just like her and think to herself:
something was unfolding that she glimpsed too early for her childhood, that she did not want.
She went to sleep though not staying up past her exhaustion to jump into the arms of her father,
to realize what she had saw in her dream of “yellowed haired children making offerings”. He
would of have calmed her if she had to make her feel safe again. She slept and was comfortable,
not needing her bed or the graces of her parents tucking her in, reading her her favorite sroy of
The Three Little Pigs and the wolf. She slept like an exhausted adult who had fallen to sleep to
their work but was comfortable even still.
Hook:
No matter how I think we grow
You always seem to let me know
It ain't workin'
It ain't workin'
And when I try to walk away
You'd hurt yourself to make me stay
This is crazy
This is crazy
Repeat Hook
Aren’t you even man enough to face jail too? Aren't you a man yet? they ask him before there is
a montage chronicling his life and the policeman’s simultaneously. His murdered dad was one
and so those men were partners in the same squad. The documentary on CNN was supposed to
be centered around forgiveness and so the policemen were characters in the boy’s story showing
how transformations happen with the policemen 12 years later retired, becoming born - again
Christians. The boy has grown now right before their eyes when they visit him as civilians with
reporters accompanying them to the man’s cell to tell him that they forgive him for what he did
way back – the man now called Devx. "I'm God bitch, I'm God Bitch who the fuck you be" is
what the boy now turned man says to those anonymous interrogators voicing themselves from a
speaker - doing their interview through a barrier of hard glass. He was in a special unit for
having been deemed “too dangerous for general population”. He's renamed his prisoner title,
using that instead of his number, calling himself Devx like Ralph Ellison's "invisible man" and
like Ralph Ellison he has sequestered himself in an unknown space of the roomy cell where the
soundstage was. Reforming into a new man inside the jail, he proclaimed to the other prisoners
the title of “reverend”. He was the simulacra of a literary moment, ”taking somefin back from
nuthin” from “the positive” , from “the negative” like the black skinheads he admired when he
hung out with his older brother before being locked up. They both rocked an Iron Cross but the
former had more of an idea of origination and it is in the “good” of a “black” skinhead that
frustrated him thinking to his brother “why can’t you just be bad and a Nazi like some of your
other skinhead friends are”. Being firm in this when he said that back then as a kid, while
knowing too that he was young and not as involved as his older brother who had been a punk for
years. Even at eight years old the boy jumping up and down in a mosh pit, watching his brother
pelt monstrous tones, he was being a stand –in, as some kind of extra for a moment he would
author in his matured future when he got the word “freedom” tattooed in elaborate script on his
neck” and a swastika tattooed on his chest with all kinds of other symbols dotted over his body
illustrated by NeoNazis. He had befriended these people and other varieties of prisoners in jail.
These markings they all gave him, on his dusty, caramel colored skin fit well with his
complexion and sharp features that were Asiatic. The edges of the swastika sharply defined, the
greens and reds making him look like foreign candy – as Eastern European toffee with other
kinds inside streaming the brown with celebratory colors decorated in obscure shapes. The
policemen being there with the reporter were shaking their heads in stern disapproval at things
Devx would recount. The reporter amazed though, she couldn’t help but stare in the middle of
his head: in the area between his eyes where the word “END” had been etched in but since he
had indentations from having sqrunched his face so much the wrinkles hid the last and the first
letters where now she was gawking at “N”. Watching him and wanting to ask him about it, it
seeming strange that it wasn’t a cross like she normally saw on the “third eyes” of characters like
him so she just stayed silent getting very detached from the moment. Listening but not being able
to take her gaze off the symbol in the hill that was his skin where there were two fracture lines -
the lettered spot had a life of its own. It seemed to prod at her and her duties at that moment- as a
reporter. She herself felt compelled and angry mimicking Devx. Not knowing since she had been
in much more dangerous situations made her that much more outside herself. As Devx stay
talking he was a blur to her and the “N” seemed like it was imposing itself on her vision as it was
enclosing - about to strike. Mirroring Damn, the reporter hypnotized by this cryptic letter, feeling
innocent like she was turning to the girl she remembered when her daddy asked her questions,
asking her to name things but feeling like she wanted to maintain her innocence withholding to
confess answers she knew. The “N” was asking its name like a sinister demon but this time she
was dumbfounded and confused, her mind wanted to explode to lash out against herself and the
women she thought she was. She felt the voice feeling the person inside yet she couldn’t figure
out whose name it was that the “N’ was unlocking in the person of her memory.”Whose name
was it” she thought mesmerized. “What my name cause I know yours…….Mary” she imagined
the “N” saying as it taunted her and rammed her reasoned identity in the image of a spiraling
illusion. By this time in this interaction between her and the green middle alphabet, the police
had excused themselves thinking their job of giving their forgiving was done. That letter on the
porous abstraction of skin wanted her to call out its name but she couldn’t. She look at him with
an unknown cataract in her eyes, crooked face, emptily being a vessel for Devx’s stroll down
memory lane. He went back into his memory as he asked himself, inside his mind, linking his
opinions with his questions as if just finding the thesis to things that had plaqued him up until
this point. Putting his hand on the glass like his energy needed to be conducted, the reporter
taken out her stupor put her hand over the gums of his, not feeling the glass anymore though
seeing Devx’ pain and understanding she cried: He cried too letting out a tear and said “I’m still
God bitch” in a low, crackled voice and then went back into his inventory of new shame and new
regrets but answers: Standing in the dingy club with leather clad kids all around but in the
forgone moment he is now 21 and is the author of his own club in the jail - singing his war cries
through the images on his body, working out every day for the gladiatorial events held inside his
steel dungeons, becoming inextricably linked to his self as a fighter. There he was remembering
himself though, as a boy who thought a lot about origins to defy them - in order to assimilate into
things cold, angular and opposed to his presence. He was recalling these times through the
questions of the reporter and the police as they asked him to recount his experiences not
expressing the nostalgia he had for it to them though – the policemen- but to his comrade in the
lady reporter. The documentary would make him and other prisoners in the jail celebrities and
Devx would be the first inmate and the most popular. He didn’t really care however about it as
his main hope was to see visitors come. For mostly through his tough exterior and “God” status
he was lonely. Gnostically he darted through the walls of his youth - like a bullet - having
shattered just one tier of disobedience which was the most important that made the structure
collapse just like his body - to be rebuilt technologically modified virtually in the image of the
jail he’d been subjected to. He burst and ricocheted his punches from the core of his ultimate
individualisms, off his opponents - to be like the ska,the punk, the hardcore, the death rap, the
bluesman he sold his soul to loving to listen to them. He had his audience see him dance to their
sounds. iBHim Pimpin Jesus: this is that version, a futurist moshing, hyperized in a unregretful C
walk on the 3rd floor up to virtuality in the light of glist–his ride has already been “pimped”
displacing the war machine of a slothful polite life he would have had had he been polite instead
opting for speed and unrepentant hate - failures. Now with the reporter having left him he was
feeling less iconoclastic and heretical. He was humiliated in the vulnerability of the moment
when he found a partner to tell it to, trying to lock the shape of his hands with hers- they both
had merged their hands together against the clarity of the barrier from his cell. Feeling angrier
now with the women gone he feels confirmed - realizing his opposites (positives) have no
function already wrought. “So everything mine as well be mall music for a slow escalator to the
eternal architecture on line to look prettier for the angels just waiting for me……. so they can
masturbate when I growl” he said as his own God. Building up his fight to be “The God” when
he spoke to the world on his weekly show riding on his newfound hate of the girl. He hadn’t
thought to ask her name just thinking it would be another anonymous fan to gawk at him and his
savagery. “Mines as wells disguised for progress redirected out and then up then nostalgia for
down (don’t look)” he says in a crazy to the ammonia colored walls that don’t respond. He be
locked in the dark interminable space of cyber reality calling himself God dancing to Makaveli
and reading from the Bible sporadically. The CNN reporter left “so much for fake love” he
thought thinking about the end of his visit, going on to next ones scheduled for that day. The new
reporters were being shuttled into a room by guards to speak to him, them being hip dressing
how he used to when he was young. The warden had outfitted cells like the one he was confined
in since by now he was known throughout the world and there was demand for new and
interesting actors by the public. He transmitted himself in a video in real time via the Internet and
the space was poisoned giving Devx a virus to look crazier as if spam did it. They let the inmate
chose their own interior designs by now and he wanted a blue screen with backgrounds inspired
by Germans - Immanuel Kant and Kaspar Friedrich. “THE SUBLIME NIGGER IS A
NATIVE SON TO A BIGGER GOD WITH A BIG OLE DICK CABLE THAT HE
PULLED OUT THE EARTH WHEN THEY USED IT TO HANG HIM WITH TO BE A
GHOST IN THE MACHINE ELECTRIFIED”. " THESE IS NIKES, SCHEIZER". Once
in a while he invited curators over to his stage and journalists from youth culture just to prove
how godly he was not being ironic either. This was that time. Maybe, possibly it was clever. Or
maybe it was his own kind of irony but he really did love art as it was his therapy and wanted to
share his thoughts about how wonderful it had been in calming his will to violence. He had no
issues with talking about it with the world, even if it contradicted with his image because he
thought he was God already and no nigga tested him in the jail because he was its king. He
started each show by reading from his artist statement before commencing to have his blue
screen activated to display a cloudy German sky so he could appear to float, waltzing like a Crip
dancing to Tupac. Then he would pull down his pants to expose his ass that read “VOLCANO”
in green gothic lettered ink as a title to phase into another segment of his performance leaving
nothing to be seen but his brown rear end in the video screen’s frame. He read from an email he
sent himself when a fan help to explain his intentions to a public audience keeping it folded in
his other leaflits, dancing still still floating emailing it to his countless tuners in that tuned. He
had give up to the prison eventually as all his possessions needed to confiscated by the prison as
they were easily made weapons into :
My work deals with issues of race, sex, gender through the spiritual and divine to speak to the
abstract created by false drives of modernity and post modern interests. It strives for its own
autonomy, freedom, utopianisms, infinities, successful failures and ecstasies resonsagain
however. No post is better than the crooked one that comes through the sky to strike the false life
– giving bar which is stabilized on our Earth that I’ve never seen but you people call trees. With
its roots firmly implanted it is lit aflame to burn down the forest from the same thing in the
thunder by which it came. My aims in the forms I use whether they be from the high or the low
speak to these abstractions within the histories of objects relating to music, literature, fashion,
painting and image making, music, sound, voice, words the body and nature. I got nobody so I
chose where and what I want even if means raping these holes. I am a tragic being, doing work
here inside these lairs of tragic – comedy. Like I said before I am interested in ins, endlessness,
failure, process and most of all content which all come out as result in the divine being The
Truths doing it cause I am divine the same as Eye do. Questioning I am, it is, is the truth behind
these things and not tied to any particular type of method in written messages. I do this in order
to bring concepts to bear together within the same pursuit that their utopianisms create – the
writtens. Thus with conventional formulas ( music, sound, literature, art blah, blah, blahs,( na,
na, no, nos) blah ). I am trying to bring out the oneness from the fakes in finding their truths so I
can bring out The Truth that is the different truth than from before I did. I gotta show the line of
modern trajectories who’s the real G cause if you don’t these niggas would they savages in here.
I am a savage inside a reverend cause I have to preach cause mufuckas I am God! Not a god in
the cause like these peoples up in here who are real just cults and infidels, I BE THAT REAL
NIGGA. These other stupid ass black dressings about in all these fancies can’t do no justice to
my Justice in me. See my tattoos these wasn’t draw these was painted my dudes. They got colors
to give me more depth so I hide from the (C)^(O).’s to do my art alone in places they can’t see
me in. SEE. Anyway, I know can’t so I’ll just do it how you understand you whit motherfuckers.
I don’t why shit gotta be so segregated like me but with material provided, by my fans here and
you guys my friends out there, I can draw out the evils within these histories strivings for
separation. I’m interested interest in pursuing these very same aims through myself to try to
counteract them. These are questions of manipulation and power if those who use can
appropriate them can and if the disneyed alive subobjs can’t help themselves from being used
than fuck em. Does this mean fuck everything? Most likely, probably! the one with the s. respect
to utopian and dystopian visions. It B as I is HiGH and I is Him examines materials relating to
music, literature, family, biographies and the urban environment although not being limited to
any or you ors. The work deals particularly with youth cultu -re by using products of it to talk to
or in fact as an instrument to pry through racism as it stays the same or as it transforms in a
globalized cultural imagination. I am interested in abstraction and abstractedness of time and
change using advanced forms of technology to do so. It has a geographical leaning trying to
examine constitutions of knowledge naively maybe by travelling virtually being on the internet,
looking at the books I read, seeing people’s and certain motherfuckas and through simply making
connections or interrelations. I want to live out an alternative worldview through my nexus of
interests. I got bills that I'm trying to pay with the commissary and a fractured family that I need
to mend and then raise up who live outside this place where I am. A big family too so I need that
tv and that art money to get ins. I love being race and do not want to see it erased by someone's
"tricknology" so the work has an economic edge subverting how you think about God who is me
and the boundaries of “hi and low” culture to speak to hegemony and its own imagination
specifically reimagining “white supremacy” and other socio –political structures through devices
of framing and myth –symbolizing on y’all. I come you not as !a7000 – 40,637 myth write now -
as obviously I am right when I decide to make I presence known upon y’all I will. See what it
do! It uses conventions troping anger, violence and frustration as experienced through the forms
of hip hop, images of punk rockers ( I love they screams ) its noise music - "post musics" to
further examine modern and postmodern anxieties about extremes, excess, ecstasy and rage as
they circulate around old notions of newness and primitiveness seeing how and what they draw
from in a art historical sense(s). Not limited to these items specifically nor to these ideas to
maintain their uncertaintie&&&&s&&&&@@@@####sssssVVVcZa!!!!!!! as “everyday life”
brings about new surprises disturbing the strictures constantly. Through my own biography and
having established new ideas from being in jail I see that there is no way of ever being sure. One
day you might be fighting a Mexican and then the next he might be teaching you Spanish while
you’re getting inked by a neo – nazi! It’s their useful paradoxes and “breakdowns” that play an
important role for me in prying out what it means to be sincere, honest and even sentimental in
an age frustrated with the confines around stabilizing “goodness” and content in popular
romances around peoples who are so bounded to their categories, reified in the myths of power
they embody and betray through images always centered when around race, class, sex and
gender. I know everything is relational, there is a lot more between the edges of the criteriti/on.
They define in a way that reinstitutes the very same things that these conventions argue against. I
think they are part of the reason why the warden even allows me to have this show loving me
talking to you guys. He’s Christian even still….. It makes him laugh probablyAnyway,fi….
furthermore it is my own romances…del around that which seem so outdated and regressive that
keep me tied to ideas of failure and cliche within histories and traditions that “progress” claiming
to transform their essentialisms through just “hanging out” whether negatively or positively
whether you like “hanging out” with particular groups. It is these performances of the mundane
which is all I know pretty much not having the mobility to go places yet I see how niggas play
with artifice and belief in “themselves” through the art of interaction to the mundaneand
dialoguing that attracts me to these matters of assimilation, transaction and appriopiation that
acts on my practice. I want to deal in the simple extremes in a fashion that marks out what it
means to have come from the letter generation X and Y after Civil Rights CRY and intergration
for it is through “hanging out” that becomes so central for me here. I wonder what the Z could be
if it’s me! Is it the apocalypse generation they are claiming for us? What will it mean Damn but
as me being I as I as HIMHI I’m turn y’all to genuiices if you follow the codes so you bring my
son up right Damnyaherd! With the last being the first " I'm God Bitch who the fuck you be".
Then the man called X appeared to blank out like he was epileptic having a seizure right there on
camera during the interview. His eyes rolling in the back of his head at the same time another
anonymous voice from above firmly shouted "you aint God" which must’ve been a corrections
officer and he then regained consciousness and was disoriented and asked to be permitted to play
music and then start back over announcing his artist intentions. He went back to his chair he was
sitting in with the interviewer right beside him much more calmly this time but something drew
him to get up and walk over to the center of the stage where he just stared very intently back at
the camera and thus directly into the eyes of his audience all over the world. Suddenly within 5
mins of this glaring his eyes roll in the back of his head again. This time he appeared to be
struggling against rapture, then regains and hops into a motionless military stance as if on
command glancing up to make sure he was align with something you, me, nor his audience could
see but was obviously overhead. Then he begins to resume his artist statement from its
introduction getting as far as " My work" and then whipping out his right arm, thrusting it in
front of him slightly angled putting his body in the shape of a gun then thrusting it back to his
side he lets it hang for a few seconds then supermannitws again. Resuming he says " My
work''........"amongst other thinnnnngs" pausing for less than a second so that he could use his
upraised arm to guide his motion in recreating himself as a tornado spinning circles in a dizzy
while also repeating his artist explanation:
“With the first being the last “My work……………
yM krow slaed htiw seussi fo ecar+ xes+ redneg hguoht eht lautirips dna enivid ot keeps ot eht#
tcartsba modeerf$ smsinaipotu$ seitinifni$ lufsseccus seruliaf& dna seisatsce nigasnoser
rerewoh@oN tsop si retteb naht eht dekoorc eno$$$$$$$$$$$$&&&&&&&&&&……………
………………………………………………!?...........................
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.
ABC WORK:
7. Bàthory Erzsébet
The videos of Devx were shown in a montage to be archived for research material to be given to
Damn to legislate, new laws regarding prisons when they were to be delivered. The videos
compiled when Devx himself was murdered were framed in a way as if personalized specifically
for Damn’s viewing. They showed a caption at the bottom of its screen reading: CALL 1 800
888888888 FOR FREE MIRACLE WATER AND STRETCHER BARS. Showing how the child
led a successful life afterwards, creating an enterprise despite being imprisoned it focused on X’s
syndrome more as TOURETTES rather than the boring GORE. This may have been so he
could get Devx’ hidden prompt and further the grammar for the OVERTHROW’D moment that
opposed him without him knowing. Damn and the falcon were watching this special in the White
House suite (rented). Although the ethnic lady Mary reporter let it be known to the audience that
the videos were recorded in the past to make everything seem false as if it was a hoax and corny
like something Damn had already seen so he dismissed, reading a newspaper, recling as hid did
to be in exact sight with the falcons mouth who was on a book ledge below the dead owl in his
study. Not heeding its cryptic messages. For him, it was just too weird and obviously over the top
but he took one extra look rewinding the tape to a still image showing Devx flexing as he danced
and Damn admiring the img muscles and sheer attitude. They apparently got back to Damn in
1949 from 1981 for him to see with a note on top not knowing it was the falcon’s fault as he
transported the important package. Dev X remarking in the footage : “ this will be a record for
my son who would be born after the 8th day and so Damn make sure you’re on the side of the
Albino’s in everything political, the crown has to be passed and melted…son right yaherd”…
ANONINNINITY.”Fuck you next caller” IN INFINITY…
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTTTTWTWTIT TWO…
…..and then the video shut off before a further explanation could be given. Damn thought “is
this what movies are gonna be like in the future”. It was in a theater but it wasn’t a movie. It
made no impression on his decisions to reform jails though and so he threw it away. The falcon
flapped his wings to get his attention but at that point went on reading not realizing anything else
was in the room but him.
When morning came the secret service and entourage escorted the Dammons family and then he
to next station. The falcon's surveying eyes come back to a lonely visual obituary for the rented
brown room everyone left- the emotion being transmitted through silence. Eyes made lonely
cries to the room between the camera and image: solemn lovemaking the setting upset and
brown for an audience of U. "Damn is at the podium now again Falcon" "CAMERA DO
WHAT CAMERA DO”.
Green Ferns and ivy grow in minutes to shroud president elect at his inauguration hiding his
leaving by the sentinels escorts chamberliiili and the falcon flies him through a black tunnel
taking Damn's memory.....
CONFUSION
L,IVED GRAMMARS
THE DIRTY SOUTH
( )
+
*
Forty years earlier the candidate as a child lived with ancestors living that had gone through It
but he was born enough on the cusp to be valid in acheiving fluence in ultimate N's. Their time
came at a sound on the end of "nigger" = RRRRRRRRRRR they had pregnant life on. The one
who would not win and so we finish talking about came from a more affluent class caste so he
folds out the picture of the story from being an obsolescent clone TOO MANY(S). The other -
Damn - from a cloudier hybridization with his mother being half white his dad having been
slaves and the raw rape-age story of that ordinary Negro heritage. It was not so ordinary of
course. Conditioning for love countdown sham poo poos. Back on the homesteads Damn went to
the newly opened NEGRO schools learning from the best and doing hardy work to pressurize
contents to open up bigger chests. One day the character of Damn came in from school and
found his grandma visiting after having been in the book Sounder. His home unit included just
his mom and a picture of his dad who had died from over exhaustion in Africa America so it was
a surprise to have another member over. She started her story in d : and then a dash and then it
dashed and then a colon:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: > *
"Boy come sit down and put ya satchel in the corner". She was cooking grits in boiling water and
frying raekwon's at the same time coaxing Damn to converse sate. Meanwhile she was cooking
underground in a tub of lard brains fused with Omega 8 oils - the ribs got shuttered submerged
and pumped fluid large again in drowning bubbles, deep frying in a water cooler at her feet
below the oven. It pumped the meat and blood as the meat and blood shook to shake off its
moisture from being incinerated – almost. It was red with white lining more santa belly than
elderly candy baldhirsutyBBush G’s mother’s zombie flesh tint. It did’nt have no way to blue its
life from having bloed eyes in meat soaking off to be eaten. She talked like she was flirting with
old lover boy ( Black Granny ), sweetly misleading but penetrating. The smell of soulfood was
getting stuck to the aroma of Damn’s “sitiHiations” and pounded at her own nerves of a past
memory: "Did you have multiple orgasm " said custy. No , Ok, non, nin, nein,ok nine, eight, sin,
seven, six sin, five, four , three, two, one comes her back from her Jurassic past. "Sit down and
let granny tell you a story" she said. "I can talk while cooking and its almost done are u gon eat'?.
No , non - eater he was…. EHTER EATER….."Baby, how was the stool today”? “Was the
squrls all ova ya or what”? “Was the boys giving ya toys in the stalls to give the shakes to stall in
ya stools like Jakes”? “What’s going on”? What the stool look like cause ya know I never been?
"I said I had a good day when I came in granny you know I really don't wanna talk about school
I'm an 11 year old for Christ’s sake" young Damn said."You better watch the tongue, say what
cha say gently and sweet eben when ya wanna be honest."" Nigga who you be sassin" his
grandma say. VULTURES SEEN FLAPPING WINGS IN DESERT OCHRE SKIES
BATTLING FOR SIGHT WITH THE FALCONS. Primordial jump back from that to the
Former. Trance. Whites seen around author then they walk as patrons in zombie form as if
to eat unevolved genus, particular species up cause it interestingly non zombie.
CONSUMPTION. LEVIATHAN. MANIFEST DESTINY. I.
"Mine as well play some ragtime piano tunes then" said in the back of his mind". " No I ate the
Program lunch already". “ I can do without your soulfood Whole Food Delivery via Dahmer
othersider triber Nazi" also said to himself in the back of his mind. Nazi origins unclear to him
yet though. ""what" said grandma ! " Nufin, I aint said anything but I ate already" said light skin
future presidential candidate then elect. The moon shut off lights which seen the kitchen contract
in size when the shadow crept to son it deeply. Big Nigger fighter of Light shadow. Bully’s the
interior structure, rooms sunk and shy surrounded in blackness. This was in the South too
between Virginia and North Carolina so the dark musician spirits in black shadows play
reincarnated in the belly's of crickets and loci in orchestras numbering into the infinity units.
Occasionally Damn went on the bridge to noise night when his mom was sleeping but as he sits
in the chair in the kitchen he thought maybe not tonight. His grandmother would serve him gin
after the hours were over so that he would rest easy on E when her stories were done. He
knew this ritual would happen tonight too which he enjoyed anticipating like a familiar gamble
won. You missed the point in not seeing things even if you gamble wrong when you thought
you've seen something missed - you suspect foul play. Thought perception opposed to
environment mist. Giant red lips kissed you when they pounded the opposite side of the
world in the computer screen to try. Red lips juxtaposed against yellow background and vice
versa.
The kitchen floor was off yellow with his gum brown under soles feet lightly touching it. Scan
up from there like an upskirt camera pedophile with a camcorder to ginger brown legs then
canvas shorts to the hand about to accept lemonade being Herme’d(s) to delightful white
zinfandel fingernails. Made his arm end in image of powdery snow hovering like fingers were
mini tornado vortex’ stretching out and in to consume and regurgitate. The Roadrunner has a
tornado to ride on, on fear from within."What chu doing around here anyway" his grandmother
asked, "cause from where I see it you should of ran away already". "What"? "I don't understand
granny, what'r u saying? "I said yo ass should not even be plush in that chair dont cha know
where u come from…boy"? She went from being pleasant to a new, angry, urgent mood."What"
is what the boy asked again."What"? "What does that have to do with it"? "Are you saying I
should up and leave and abandon mom"?”Are you serious”? "No, not if u consider it abandoning
rather than mutiny, your own abandon is burdening for her" she says “and war is everyplace”.
“War ain’t the same as conflict cuz war can’t happen where there is no place and that’s momma”
Damn retorts.
Chorus:
How will I know (dont trust your feelings)
How will I know
How will I know (love can be deceiving)
How will I know
How will I know if he really loves me
I say a prayer with every heart beat
I fall in love whenever we meet
Im asking you what you know about these things
How will I know if hes thinking of me
I try to phone but Im too shy (cant speak)
Falling in love is all bitter sweet
This love is strong why do I feel weak
Chorus
Chorus
– Whitney Houston
How will I know
If I'm dreaming, why should I care,
If I'm sleeping I'd rather be there"
His love am I keeping
He sees me
So I stare…………………………( )”Oh Yeah”?
The room turned on another axis making him at the point of a different latitude to maintain
supernatural cool, feeling a draft that was artic carbon dioxide blowing gently from a living ghost
somewhere distant though. The shadows concealed the person in Damn from knowing it but
that living ghost looking down from the skyscaper’ mountain onto the shack did (know that he
was looking) and the name was fallconl. But that falcon being a living ghost just thought he was
seeing the snow when he looked. TENANTS MUST READ : lots of rice o roni buckets littered
- we cannot have this. "Stop being a crybaby" the falcon thought. He’s Back: enter the pre
- industry shack in southern south reformed but feudl the boy said "I'm not a burden to mom is
that what you think - its six o'clock why are you cooking grrrr iets anyway? Puff Loon on big
black bitch bitches witches gody shes goody dough spoon spooned- slop. "Poppy is gone what’s
gon happen to the house without a man around'?"Mommy could be raped by a long weapon too,
it could come from the Southern clouds it happened to you from Thor right"? " you should think
about journeying boy is all I'm sayin cause besides all that - I was a girl orphan bouncing around
all over the place and I never loved any of 'em but found love by being lost at birth". “You ain't
even lost ya name yet” ; “had a name that daddy and mommy gave u, had more being wanted
unlike me". "I would think that you could admire me enough to imitate it unsuccessfully even".
What you"? he said."Ur life"? said Damn. Chilhl of D' Ki- Il. Nile River. Moses golden strings
of song ivy his florally dirt body. A dirt ball meta into bushel of Negreen Garden on golden
sands fertile, virginal. The South whispered miles of dancehall shuttering metal built into trees
with I "feel my chemistry flowing can u cause a chain reaction ". Like a jazz musician keeping
time, interruptions occurred to keep the sax soloist in check like : NOW. NOW. NOW.
NOW.NOW (pitty padder)
“Grannies testifying on some shit just listen sonny” is what he thought. She opened her mouth to
flex her jaw while also cracking the dead skin in ashiness around her mouth. There was some oil
on the stoves edge that she wiped with her fingers rubbing it on her hands and mouth to moisten
the dryness with. Falcon goes through a wormhole: HEIL HEATHEN: turn into a vapor to
breeze in bodega cave see NO SMOKING, QUEST sign get Marlboros acknowledge BAYER.
HEIL HITLER INDUSTRIALISM; note to do then – did - done. BACK TO FUN; cruise
on Tennessee highway to get to Mason Dixon area of 1909 state they were in. The crucifix fence
was guarding the conversation of grandma and future to be president. LISTEN AWAY as she
says "So are u thinking about this that I'm telling u". "Leaving this wretched sharecrop and your
white mother"? "Ur a punk waiting to be, be a punk when it was like you cuz we was always
putting holes in ourselves to make us holy: blue out this old country pumpkin belly from a
hole"! "I seen god son you should do the same cuz I aint a granny for nuthin don’t cha know.
"Yeah, I know" he said embarrassed. The room switched a mood as if it went from being a
kitchen to a dining room. His grandmother was waiting to find history even though she claimed
to have seen God. She taught young Damn and rehearsed how he would be president from the
time he was old enough to speech. "I ain't got time to die cause I got to see a black man be
president" is what she would tell him all the time since he could remember having memories
even. And so coded within her urging Damn to leave was her patience finally paying off /wearing
thin - because she would have stayed immortal had this time not come. "Can I have some
quarters for the bus tom/morrow granny cause I can't keep on giving the bus driver apple pies
that I have to make myself" he said cheeikily sarcastically." Yeah and I can’t keep eatin’ em " she
said under her breath. " Are you gonna listen to me though and stop switching subjects junior"!
"Yeah ok" "Alright then listen; you see dem niggaz in the field everyday when you going to and
from school, dem niggaz got precious metals and stones that they hiding inside they inside mouth
waiting to come out like a wolf wan be seen to be mean. If they showed 'em now they'd be too
cold and too sharp to handle cause its power would make em bite they tongues plum off". "When
you in school I be sittin on the porch and seeing those niggaz far yonder but I hear dey songs as
dey was right up next to me. Da reasons bein for why is dat I think dey’s spirits tryin to get close
to me so's dey could get close to you but you's always in school and don’t get out until dey all
done working fo the day and so's u neva kin git the missage. But I think it’s yo time cause dem
boys songs is bout they teeth and showin em. “Member what i said whhns yo's younga dhat
when you's abot to be president dem niggaz gon wan show demi teevs they was hiding for so
long. Now I's believes tdat dhey sing about dem teefs hurtin and how thdey want demsis jewels
to gtiah permanent so they dont have be holding them back nymore and finally they moufvvhs
can get trddansfhormed. They bad fake ol’ teefeises they can finlly be rieid. Dhese is all cklues
boy that like I said yo dtime has come. Datemdhat gold and platinum means the end and you
gotta bounce offsosit like a trampoline and leap all the way into that desert so the 8th day
sooouuunnnssss cin bhurn ya live again". Seesawwwhd timah earth and bounce you and yo’ sis
intah othder parts of it like it was your own playgrunde”. Granny was talking very slow so Damn
could hear her messages well slurring a lot of her words that Damn was unable to catch. But now
she was past being a oracle for him and was a psychic instead and both in Damn’s wonderment
to be two things. Damn was mesmerized as he was astonished to hear his life being told in a
story of the folk tales he heard the man laugh and conjole about around at the celebrations."Dhe
whtse peopls will try to downplay how impotant taim potents your candidacy will be by erasin
histiry and their role in your peop’sa pesons opbression and thdeyy will unibvurrsalize yu sah
sydata ou coud be aniyone but son when you there you best know were you cme frm and who
you were and who you iers. Dey are neveh not seeing……. uhnseeing yuzzzz so yull have to be
infvvinitely greater which you will ta be! You show dhem who rheally be de Jhuews and who
really be the Notziz. Tey wallah eatcha tillem dhey dems emxxplode Davib stars that puridtify
dhos fity on the flauuaag". She exercised her curses like a tourettes sufferer lost speech with a
stroke and the cross on the gloss painted wall ornamented her exorcism of "Hos" like she was the
christma on Santa Claus when he was a Jewish slave trafficker. He left when he trading in her for
Ham and Alcohol every time he made “ha” with her. Her messenger who brought her through
the sea with Moses and kept her under like a mermaid so that the role near her gill would forever
be dependent on: "Grandma the roof is got teardrops on it" said Damn. "No it’s just lcking
son"…… to surbive dis menes….."You and yo new people gon live inside your own blood that is
the fire as well! So you’s be gold again when you soled ind new all ober". “Grandma what is a
Jew and who is the Nazis” Damn felt compelled to ask not really wanting to know though,
wishing he didn’t only to hear her symphony more. "Hold it togeveh boy cause what I'm bout ti
tellei you is goneh a hurt but I habte to be alome now and you have t git gon". Her voice
suddenly changed sounding like one of Damns teachers back at his school: “Once I will say that
I was destitute and rich and still desperate and destitute and yearning and destine and loved. I
will say that my face and body were not – any of these things by some. I want to hold onto
something, not the noise but the sound of primitive machines in the farm like cows sleeping
when alive - they are melancholic in the churning of their bass - a beautiful sound meditating on
turning like electric stars…. dom til thn jst mre shining in the wait”. “Why I gotta be on fire”
Damn asked. One of the many questions withheld liking the mystery too much, being talked
about so extravagantly but he was curious even still. Her slurring eased up and Damn was less
patient now before having been in ehralled more by her abstracted language.
"You a Aries right Boy"?" Yeah grandma thats what Ma says" "You birthdate in April"? "Yeah".
"So you is". "From now on think of yoself as a human torch with flame waiting to ignite. Let that
phoenix take you over the watah when yo cant swim. It will, it will son and make the four - leggd
dogs yo friend cause you gon need em too". "Never trust anyone who doesn’t like dogs they are
probbly cats themselves". He thought "cats aren't so bad" but then suddenly lost all his words,
was speechless because he lost feeling like his sense and his memory of knowing how to talk had
suddenly been stolen. He gasped but then breathed in order to find sounds agin. This lasted for
minutes but he remembered the protective measures his mom taught if he were to suddenly feel
mute (ness). He thought the letter M just like his mom taught. "Hmm, um, my, mmm, m, m, my,
mu, muh, mum, mummy. Then his grandma confessed : "And just to let you know your mommy
aint yo mommy entirely"............then his tongue felt locked to the roof of his mouth where he
could only announce “NNNNNNNNNN”.
His grandmother went on further, to reason his running away by making Damn remember the
child abuse he experienced. She was explaining that there was a better fate that awaits him along
with becoming President and so departing his abusive environment were her judgments. She
explains how she never could intervene but knew through his mother’s methods that she always
had an urge to kill him. The grandmother saying that she was weak and made to be that way by
God. She was right because she wasn’t equipped to handle Reconstruction society and the
pressures it thrust upon her. Her only agency was the force she exerted over Damn. Also not
being able to move into the threshold of murder having been scared of jail which was the really a
fear of her reputation being tarnished. She felt trapped with Damn who was too abnormal for her
to have any bearing in knowing how to deal with him. “You had to be pushed to the limits of
enduring pain and terror so that you could have the strongest will to lead which will reveal itself
as a will to live. Everyone else is insistent on just surviving but you achieve divinity through
humiliation and endurance : acts that hold within them the understanding that you are subservient
to something greater. Something so greater because it admits you can be autonomous from
violence instead being able to understand its necessity in the lives of others to dominate it for
them – absorbing it to to transcend. Why hasn’t your resentment caused you to lash out against
the world cuz I’ve seen what you’ve gon through and you are entitled my son? Remember, you
are not of her because she was only a vessel that God used…….because you needed to be here”.
IN A RAPTURE ?
MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
CAUSE I’M THE ONLY ONE WHOSE HEART GOT
CAPTURED,
OF THE FACTUAL.
SO LIKE A PHILOSOPHER
BLACKOUTNESSEssssssssssssss
NO DIRECTION…………..
IM-IMPEEEEEEEACH
THAT CRACKLES
THE
I DON’T
JEEZZZZZZZZZ IS US
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
HIMMMMMMM
“NIGGAS PLEEEEEEAAAAAAAASSSSSS”:
Damn earnestly tries to counter his grandma’s argument by saying “ she cooked for me and made
sure I was fed and even sacrificed by giving me things she didn’t have to so what about that and
how come ya voice sounds different? “Yes son she gave you things but are they………these
things so substantial? Can you not get money or food from the government, schools, strangers,
and still not feel that you’re truly cared about? “Damn are you truly not resentful of the abuse she
inflicted upon you – all the beatings, debasement, torture: the want to rob you of everything that
was good and gentle”. “If you never found the gift of words to help in regaining you will then
where would you be my son? Remember the time I was visiting and right when I got in the door
she had beat you and threaten to call the Klux Klan when you didn’t stop crying so that you
would clean your room when you were trying to study for school?’Remember that back when it
happened? “They came anyway to get her to stop torturing you and when they left they laughed
at the both of you feeling proud and confirmed. But what they didn’t resolve was the fact that
you mother was half white only seeing her darkened like the man she let get inside her – jealous
because even she wasn’t the same as them. You can’t blame them because your community
looked the other way, in the opposite direction of your horror – the horror that was going on
around them, they were surrounded by a fleet of white horses and brooding architecture that was
bad because they believed in it”.
“Son, I was there after your time when a child named Mary was murdered by her parents and the
first thing they told her was that she was a bad child. They did this so the child could have a
better sense of her needing to be punished. She believed in their hate making it a part of her in
her psychology cause children are taught that bad things have to be made good or that bad
behavior can be fixed because mommy and Daddy are older and they know what’s good and
correct”. She paused as if she was growing outward with her words and Damn used the moment
to ask “what is behavya” condescending to her slightly to urge on the progression of her lecture
repaying his question with little attention to the answer.“Food, money, shelter; these are things
that can be found mostly anywhere so don’t let anyone have claim over it, don’t never let em tell
you they own it”! Never mistake philanthropy for love which what a lot of parents are –
philanthropists to make up for their own guilt and internal bankruptcy. Love is the only thing that
emancipates someone if they allow it to and it the only thing that you can have a claim over. It is
the only thing that humans can own that is not ephemeral and fleeting. Total love allows one a
quality which creates totality in it being able to be the only thing that can never get lost, decay,
erode as it is recoverable and originates to recover, yourself outside of yourself through
others”….. “Granny you sayin’ a lot words that I can’t undastand but I think I wan my mommy
now cause why do you look all big and scary….where’s my mommy at? Damn said in a scared
cower as his grandmothers black radiance thickened and materialized in the shape of a blob with
wings and an all consuming gloom. In the bass of her now booming voice she went on further
to” tell him about himself” causing a storm to occur and the house to break unfolding its walls.
All the lights shut out and Damn’s grandmother’s – he ran from her as fast as he could away
from his terror and the terrific sight of what was going on. In his sprint now running on a dirt
road, the trees measuring his distance he looked back to be sure if he should be afraid in what
was calling his movements forward. He looked back to see himself wrapped in a blackness and
only a moonlight reflecting off grass blades to let him know he was still on familiar solid ground.
What he seen in these short glances of the other direction was an enormity of jet black sky and
growing distant were white grinning teeth set against a black background possessed it seemed
with the spirit of night. The whites in the eyes saring at his chase were the whitest he ever seen in
an eye before but the pearlyness of teeth were his only evidence the blackness had an identity. In
the distance as he runs away her eyes look like blinking stars as if they had histories far beyond
his remembering night skies to look like when he visited them on bridges to make music. Finally
in one last look back she appeared to smile that looked like an upturned slice of moon as if it
were meant to be a seat to recline in. Suddenly as Damn shouted and breathed as he was running
he spoke in languages he hadn’t known but one which he did recognize as GERMAN. Now he
spoke as if possessed of another’s lung that struggled of its own accord to manage the yellow
gases he seen in that night’s air as he exhaled. They seemed to cling to his words, seeing them in
black lines disintegrating in the air he blew out when they charred turning to ash in the cloud
from his mouth as he ran. Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…………………
…………….
Feeling the emotion swell up upon hearing this newfound falsehood of his life in its fantastic
horror and the absurd ignorance of her justifying these explanations in something strangely
malicious - he ran. He left his grandmother sitting in that old rickety brickhouse in that sweaty
kitchen and ran straight out the door onto the road and onto the night that seemed to become her
as well. He ran, ran, ran, ran from the people calling him from the sides of the road after him - he
ran anyway. And when they did beckon him like this he ran faster. He ran into time. He ran as if
he had just come out a fire and was on fire. He ran from that wretched old lady as her beautiful
concoction. He runs away from this fate with the full knowledge of his supposed purpose - he
runs away from himself made over. He runs as a bundle of skin, misshapen as a brown
lump trying to find his legs or his arms within the mass of flesh as an invalid- he runs, falls, rolls
then his legs emerge but quickly become enveloped within his new formlessness like he was his
own vacuum - a scupltured Gumby of lumpy quicksand terracotta nest that was edible. He was a
grotesque figure now resembling a rounded star or an idea of it. He was chronicled by the cries
of the people that wanted to eat him calling out his name and him calling back at them to mark
his conscious in time. He was more than himself now being them and himself simultaneous to
continue on in them. He was a collage of dough with a wounded face – no real eyes (chips) – no
mouth (chips) – no nose (just redness). Finally he finds his appendages again and runs
away desperately trying to walk, stand up straight but he is limited, beholden to his muddy body
in a ball. His legs gain solidity and he continues exerting himself to catch more speed. He runs
now with the knowledge of what and who he is as it is constituted by the new body he was given
when the name was implanted to tell him it wasn't ( a body, a name). He runs to find a new name
saying his over and over and over again to himself and to the people that chase. He runs like a
cookie away from the milk that will dissolve it. He is wiry, bendy, athletic and eventually
skeletell in two dimensions. He will have to cross a body of water which will be his
enemy/salvation. He will recruit the help of a bird to help him cross the body of water and he
will be delivered, to float riding on a dog’s back. The animal is his vehicle. He has no other way
to get over knowing he is not mud but something unmistakably similar given value by the
pursuits. His getting over is dependent on this animals body - a potential predator. He trusts the
dog though because the spine of the wolf’s back will be his temporary landscape amongst the
treachery of water. Not unsuspicious he knows his shelter is precarious for his ground is doubly
sinister. The dog could drown him, eat him , die and the water will sink and dissolve him. He
knows that in order to keep going he must resist this fear and ascertain himself to later depart
from himself. He must maintain distance between everything that is not him because he could be
swallowed by them if his guard was let down. He must rename himself over and over forging the
solidity of the role he must now play trying to find the truth of who is was. Running he was just
trying to live a life. He didn’t know if being chased meant that the people loved him or hated him
so he ran faster becoming stronger in his speed. His pouncing the ground faster and faster would
appear as if he was warding off death abstracting its surface and its sense of itself shifting its
walls. He cannot deny his grandmother being guilty and connected to her in his
transformation(s). He will run once on solid ground to declare everything he is and inherit in
his declaration to those he yells back at is everything they are not - when he leaves them. The
gingered boy runs in a circle the beginning being his ending. The thing that is Damn moves so
fast now – too fast hyper his nitro feeding his engines in fear, hate ,terror and his turbo sprints
fracture the space in his locomotion. Through its cracks and ruptures where he rips its
consciousness - his too is pulled in these seams. He leaves an aftermath of a divestated zone
reconstructed albeit having been pulled along and manipulated by his mercurial traverse. A
dimension having the sheens of metals over it- invested it is - with warrior force including
Damn’s. It is an architecture mechanized to war mirroring the anguish and inhumanity that it
birthed, merged to the memories in Damn that it now holds and uses in forms sharp and angular
to haunt him. Soon he is will reawaken to the self he lost there. It will be a lively place for which
people inhabit and the monster that will set his path for days to come…when he rediscovers
those images and stories again as they escape the captivity of the places time - out its wells. He
divorced the ground to stop running and instead take flight now when he is past all of this. Damn
ran, he ran, he ran, he ran, he ran to himself at the edge of a river where he cannot cross. He went
into a falcon’s mouth to get over and docked 9 years later being a young man in a normal body
and then later on as President remembering nothing but his grandmother being lifted over the
water by the falcon. These are the footsteps of his proclamations and the airs tumult against the
feathers in his glide being inside. In there, he felt unutterable speed:
...........
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
................................
A Folk Song :
Birds
Birds
Birds
They are mini icebergs
– 1 Corinthians 13:11
Chorus:
In the discussion and the playfight, Damn had learned that the man’s name was definitely not
Jean but Matt. The kids who were milling about behind them while Damn and Matt talked and it
looked like they were students to the school in the back that Damn and Matt had been talking
about and had gone through. Not having recognized Damn though as they should’ve as he was
still a student there, they had not bothered to approach Damn and Matt assuming they were part
of the scenery and homeless.Especially feeling nervous as the two men fought they blasted music
from a boombox as now they had beach and lawn chairs taking a break from work picnicking.
They were playing old, old RnB with mashups of current songs until they played a song that
caught Damn and Matt’s interest scoring their exhaustion after having just exerted themselves
displaying their skills to one another.
(A billion candles
burn around
Is it your
(birthday))?
“Whew” Damn said doubled over catching his breath. “Yeah you’re good” Matt hollered back in
the same position as they looked down the chasm – the stretch of space that separated each other
as each other’s ten minute ago opponent. They had dizzy from dizzying and abstracting for
themselves that space that was this city with there aerial assaults and death defying feets. Now it
was normal back to but they were tired looking at each like two matched athlethes. There was
nothing the other did that the other couldn’t counter that left them at a stalemate with the only
leaving to do was calling a “alliance” and him saying “truce”. After this they got tighter, tighter
than they had the capacity to be before. They needed the catharsis from having to suppress all the
emotions that the conversation aroused and as men they couldn’t tell each other. The fighting
brought it out. Breathing hard and being in a locked glare looking at one another in there stations
where they could continue the fury of the acrobatics they gave each other a hand shake and a hug
and sat back down on the bench looking over the shoulders briefly at the kids who gathered in
back in an outdoor celebration. The other one said to the other”who was that guy you were
talking about”?” Oh yeah, he just someone who someone said I got the facial structure of when
get older” that’s all. “How’s that”! “You know you a artist right” Yeah but that mean I ‘posed
know every artist there is” Know you got know yours and the important ones” “Yeah I guess”
Damn said. Feeling like this was a good moment to give Damn more insight into his plans
knowing Damn was lost to from everything they spoke about he invited Damn to read a paper he
was working on wing about one of few admired artists. The paper hand to Damn was in stark
black Helvetica text and it read FRANCIS BACON AND DEATH. Being attracted to its cover
Damn sarted reading while Matt told him about his his plans and his life before within these
plannings:
[Chorus:]
[Chorus]
– Ghostface
DAYTONA 500
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Damn in gratitude for the man’s blessing whether he believed it or
not hands him a stack of drawings he was working on in the park’s
lawn at noon. The man walked followed him to its fountain where
he crossed his forehead giving him good news. By accident he
hands the pamphlets that Matt gave him of the Albino
Manifestos. Damn walked out the park’s entrance where the
whole time an impromptu performance was taking place of
an electrified Morrocan band playing guitared music with
drums. He walked through the wall of these prayerful desert
melodies humming what he remembered from the sond.
Packing his reservoirs that made him unafraid of being
homeless in the streets of the city. The claimed angel too left
them on the base of the water fountain where the two met.
We are the New Future Group who come from the unknown white
star which makes us more and unknown. We have allegiances to
Light and Dark, profusely transmitting ourselves through God’s Art
– Totally to be Total once again in Darkness. We believe in
ourselves only through four letter words to skip the 4th sound being
the 1 or the 3 which is Prime and divisible only by the One. We
float between the Idols and Oneness – not afraid of our Extremes
and the Excesses between 1 and 3 – The Absolute. This is our New
Air Maxed with our New Faces/Graces prophesizing and
metamorphisizing through color – our hues in Transit. Being in the
trappings of steel Leviathanic jails we care Not! It is our Instant
Self Creating Mechanism stretching from this Earth on us when die
and are our new future’s savoir once again. We will invite those
who want a new life when the Earth scorches to join ours in our
Ground hog Day project – an acronym for the 8th day sun when it
leads us into our Utopian Planet of Neth to build a city called New
Neth within a building constructed on the site of a volcano calling
this Building Ontop of Darkness. We will build everything in Anger
Against these “who are Americans”? Americans. They are this
country’s questioning party and so we will be beautiful, fast
aggressive and constituting in those who we want to share this
future with. We will call them Boys as they would evolve to earn
Albino names through the induction of the blood into a virus that
will produce vitiligo and Albinism so they’re will be not only cyans
and gracious tones of whites, blues, blacks, yellows, oranges. We
will look like Delicasies and CANDY- OUR COLORS BLENDING
SMOOTHLY LIKE ICE CREAM THROUGH A MACHINE IN THE VIRUS.
If a Boy found himself as a “vitiligo we would love him more as
more than our whiteness we enjoy dazzling arrays of magnetic and
brilliant colors that wrap and intertwine in patterns circular,
geometric or swirly on our new people, modeling our world on the
beauty of our soon to be New Bodies. We’ve been here secretly for
ages helping in the fight against America’s vicious systems of
slavery within racism and Moneyism’s, saving first all our Albino
brethren locked in the shackles of your government’s hands not
falling to your lies of History by seeing them any different than us
on your basis of them being “Black Albino’s. From our coalescence
within the Abolitionist Movement, for the gains of our Prophesy of
the 8th day, it thus allowed them to gain their Freedom and they
feeling obligated helped in the cause of the darker skinned they’d
been locked in bondage with. We will replicate the SUN and its
environment by extracting from MARS and reworking its patterns
and Revolutions inside a VIRUS for which we will inject into
urselves and those electing into The New Reincarnation when the
8th Sun is ours through our planets controlling device called THE
WHITE GARDEN PROJECT. For a special individual named MATT will
operate it through its HAVING A LIFE OF ITS OWN in THE NORTH
POLE ARTIC. We wil be a race of SYNTHESIACS in our Afterlives
INCARNATE THROUGH SOUND, WORD AND IMAGE IN ONE NOISED
BODY. We will engage fully in OUR violence of SORROW, PAIN,
ANGUISH being complete Kinetic Energy Always living on even if
Dying POTENTIALLY IN OUR FALSE SPACE THAT CANNOT CONTAIN
US. THEREFORE WILL BE HYPER! LOVING TO PERFORM IT IN AND
THROUGH ONE ANOTHER AS BLOOD WILL REGAIN SLOIDITY
THROUGH THE WOMB OF LAVA AND FIRE. EVERYONE WILL BE A
SACRIFICE WAITING TO HAPPEN ONCE THEY REEVOLVE TO BE
SMASHED IN FLESH , BONE BREAKING BLOOD INTO RED GAS AND
BACK AGAIN. Engage Fully in Sorrow/ Fully in PAIn. INSTITUTED IN
OUR BOUNDLESS LOVE – SO THAT WHICH WAS MISERY CAN BE
NO MORE. BUT WE WOULD LOVE TO CALL UPON AND BE
FULFILLED IN FALSITY – COMPLAINING TO GOD WHEN HE IS
ALREADY WITH YOU . NEVER NECESSARY. THE BEST ARTIST AND
NOT DARWINIAN MAN> AFFINITY FOR INFINITY HEARTS AS 1 IN A
TRINITY SURROUNDED BY THE CIRCL – THE SUN. WE SAVED
SLAVERY IN ALBINISM calling ourselves the PHILANTROPIAN
EGYPTIAN ARYAN KRISHNARIAN BEN & JERRY’s IN NETH. FLOWER
OUR PEDALS FALLEN ARE OUR LEGACIES IN ITEMIC SYSTEMIC
HANDS. WE WILL HAVE NO REAL MOUTHES, EYES –ARTICIAL
REEVOLVED BIOLOGIES REMOVED BY THE ART OF OUR SCIENCES
BEING IT. STEEL IS HOW WE CHRISTEN OUR REFLECTIONS. IT IS
OUR MEMBRANE OVER OUR SKINS – WE NEED, LIGHT TO SEE OUR
TRUE IMAHGES IN SPEED OF SOUND. NEVER SEEING IT LIKE
IMAGES OBSTRUCTED WHEN THE PUDDLES ARE MOLESTED. CYAN
GHOSTS – RAINBOW DEMONS ON CHROME IS WHAT WE WILL
REFLECT IN THE INTERIORS OF BOTOD. WE WILL FOREVER MAKE
ACCIDENTS AND MISTAKE FOR DIVINITY CAN BE HAD THROUGH
ITS DISCIPLINE AND STRUCTURE FALLING FROM THE
MASTER.LOVE.JUST.SHEER.ENERGY.WE!
UNVOLITOUS PEOPLES.
sittingIntro: (LP version only)
- 4th CHAMBER
chosen.chosen.stolen by a man claiming, posing. Really all dat nigga was was just
some white god FROZEN.
quiet the simultaneity of songs being sung to ask "Can I say something"? :
High in the mountains of this moment he decided to make a speech that he thought would impact
the men and then finally he would be pushed forward with their help, to realize his destiny cause
he was the only one that could calm their confusion and direct their conclusions he thought:
" I will propose for all those troubled in their situations to see differently and to contemplate
generations past for then we acknowledge our grandmothers and see them truly as a symbol of
hope within our destiny. See different and in fact judge her along the lines of a blackness that
veils itself and hides beneath the thinking cap of a worn - out bandanna. A cap that gave them the
intellect to know that they’d have to own their homes… modernize themselves by moving north
in order to create a new generation of you and I. This intellect or instinct is fossilized in the
amber of sweat and blood that made us able to be here right now. Look at her body, covered in a
shroud that is a perpetual "night" gown. It may be a mammy or it may have a grimaced face
unlatching itself from the iron mask that was melded onto it - onto to hers. Mine often talked
about death and it was hard to listen to her as everyone else dismissed it saying she was senile
even though they lived in the building she bought so they never had to worry about rent. Her old
age and “senility” is more in accordance with a condition of neglect as her building symbolizes
her in its decomposition and its tenants mark a generation too privileged to keep up the dreams
that came from the stings of Jim Crow and the scars of slavery. Rethink your bruised
masculinities because we are not under the terror that they were and so “victimization” in the
simple sense we have for it was not the same as theirs. We are too implicated in the world and in
our places to not feel bound. We are responsible now. I hope that I can see her again without
being afraid but joyful when I catch the clenched corner of her mouth, in a smirk, her big
mammy lips being the comfortable pocket for the eyeball that she holds between her teeth.
Whereas once I was afraid to look at that mouth now I know that she has gone through much
trouble to block that vacuum that could've pulled my "development" into it. People...... ask her if
she's a mammy and she will blink her mouth to expose the zebra's history, in regards to the lion
when she was both - as a chimera. Ask her if she's grand and she will say that her sex is hidden
between the mattress and boxspring - the numerous coins ( gold and platinum ) proof of another
hidden history which yet again she chooses to hide. She often told me ( Damn tries to replicate
her voice distorted as he does it in a high volume ) " I worked for a long time - years and years -
and used to be able to tell all the white patients to shut up and stop talking whenever I so desired
quiet - often just wanting to hear my footsteps moving in patterns onto the hospital floor". "This
is what she said to me as a young man and I'm sure you men heard similar stories right"? The
men thunderously agreed." Now tell me men that most of you know where you came from as far
as knowing who your mothers , fathers , uncles , sisters and brothers be". "We know who they
are " a cluster of men gloriously shouted "and we love them right"? "yeah" is what the whole
crowd yelled back as the man looked around to get their approval. "Well then tell me what you
would do if you found out you were not the creation of your mother or father but was in fact born
of a completely horrific origin one which was an inexplicable, unnatural birthing too? The men
fell low and silent abruptly and were waiting on the ends of Damn's every last statements now. "
For you see I was a child possessed when I was first born out of my mother's womb but then I
died and was preserved to be delivered again. And you ask yourselves how could you have died
and been delivered again its silly right? " "Are you trying to say you're half retarded" one man
shouted out echoing amplified. "No I'm alluding to my blessedness brother and if you let me
finish I'll tell you .........when I came out my mother seconds after I started talking... I gave my
mother instructions on how to abort me and then redeliver me again you see. The only rational
explanation I can give myself is that it comes from my grandmother and she is the person that
told me all of this..... she said that in the time between my mother getting pregnant with me........
she caught a disease transmitted through blood called A.D's. AIDS MOMMY DID MUCH
THAT AIDS COULD DO FOR A BABY. Damn went on to further illustrate : "Making me
unable to be born without being infected - this could not happen as my grandmother prophesized
and so instead my sister on my father's side was called to task to bring me into the world pure,
her name was Delia but we called her Exes for short. So I was incubated as a dead but living
fetus and cut into pieces for my sister to eat thus mysteriously becoming pregnant with me again
somehow. Unfortunately, my sister had to die in this process as she had her life sacrificed too in
order that when I was old enough I could eat her in a reverse fashion. It was "promised" however
that she would be reborn just like I was after that day we would carry on within each other as one
died and ate the another" - a promise of immortality we were granted. Somewhere in here she is
waiting for her form that was promised her in those seconds when I am to die - a body which I
hope to see long enough before I am to wait again for my own" Damn rubs his belly and then his
upper body all over. "This happened and I was born, mute and mishapened. Damn looked down
at his feet feeling extreme doubt in these recollections of his grandmother definitly looking now
like worried image in Lincoln he admired yet he was too young to know how important he would
be for him later on in his career at his inauguration. This recital being just a prep for that day. He
kept on going in his story to the men stringing ideas to fragments of conversations he
remembered having with his granny.“Yes I know my friends this sounds frightening, no as matter
of fact it sounds funny cause I see many faces laughing and those who aren't ought to...go on
laugh...laugh..laugh..laugh "... but I am an educated man and well aware of the excesses of our
fantasies from those weird folk tales some of you guys remembering and remembering now it’s
futility . I hold off on my certainty though as it was my elders who through myth built great
nations that the Greeks learned from to establish these so called sciences I was taught in school.
Why can’t their stories be enough friends? Why not when we have many things to gain from
them? He heard whispering and a man saying to another in his ear " Any nigga crazy…. let alone
crazy enough to think he can be president deserves it"...The anonymous recipient man gave him
a bewildered look and asked him, "deserves what"? The frequency of uncertain pauses kept
increasing and Damn was losing attention quickly hearing the original cacophony of the men
increase as they started bickering. He tried to speak above it connecting to his last idea and said
“can’t they hold truths” seeing many heads diverted he stood away from the microphone by the
podium looking upward in a diagonal direction under his breath saying….”no but I see it must be
the giggle factor that makes me have to prove them or to make them..ha, ha yes indeed yes
indeed I’ll show you” the latter statement muttered louder quietly to himself but high enough in
volume for some to hear. Damn was becoming empowered as he went on in his oratory feeling
confused in his honesty though. "My friends I am in training for something very special and
without sounding any crazier than how you’d like to see me I'll tell you that although being one
of you I am predestined as it was told to me by my granny. I am here to save you out of this
misery you call living. Proof evident in not one of you even being able to recall your
grandmothers - let alone her stories - let alone how she is great and how great she made you
because of it." Uproar began to overtake the large crowd and Damn shouted realizing how
antagonistic he was becoming."Wait"!
The men originally started off the meeting gesturing with their hands and bodies, imitating
cliches of the intellectual in thought with his/her hand on chin, talking in between poising there
cigarettes for that exact moment from which they are to take drags but now they went into
another stereotype. They were cool black men with their arms crossed and then suddenly
disturbed was this when they looked surprised in a " I'm caught" bboy position - fingers spread,
arms locked as if to imitate someone about to cartwheel or someone who wants to be seen in
distance like "here I am , I'm a clear shot". This was a “so what” moment enacted by the day to
make them praise it by being opened for the violence that was about to happen – that they
guarded themselves against for too long with their upper class black snobbery and cruel
intentions. Some people far in the back of the room yelled "no".....to hell with... Damn !..he’s a
liar... this followed by a tumult of "yeahs" and “fraud” as approval boomeranged around the
crowd back to the place he was thrust. Faces looked at the announcer of the bold man with the
insults and in a move as if they had been swayed by the intent of the man created chaos for the
thing they expected his zealous eyes to do. As if they switched their eyes to a new tyrant in a
group. Damn ducking behind the podium he thought he was in the midst of the assasination he
suspected (was projected psychically by Granny ) because he heard "er body get low". Then all
of a sudden with a heaviness of conscience he felt the "yeahs" strike down like blizzard hail and
felt himself wince his eyes. Clenched tight they were awaiting the whip of a man who
rubberized his "fraud" words for the wrong reasons lashing him from a distant place in from the
back of the amphitheater. A black albino man emerged running down an aisle from where he had
come at the center of the forum and took out a shiny weapon from his peacoat and then called
out “traitor” while he lowered his weapon positioning his gun to unleash. Damn crossed his arms
against his person and braced himself for the shots but dropped them as he blacked out feeling
limp but relieved. It was better that he did this anyway cause the x he was making over his chest
was a good way for the assassin to have a better target. Physically Damn was still there just on
the cusp of oblivion as the assassination was taking place. It was on the 18th of September as the
man years ago prophezised when he was in art school on vacation, drawing in the park. He
hadn’t thought to take the man serious recounting numerous people throughout he time in NY
who had told him crazy things but now was different. It felt like now he had to remember as
much as he could to have assurance and because he had a family to get back to. The man in the
park when his fingers were dirtied by black charcoal randomly chose him to he was quickly
recounting to himself. “He touched my forehead and said he was an angel and said on Sep….I’d
be……rich……. and he was laying on the ground in the middle of a bridge with a smile on his
face as he thought back. Not knowing how he got there, over the water, thinking that he should
be bleeding by now from having gotten shot and not enjoying himself and not laughing about
either as his face changed and he thought “ what about Aliyah , Zaire and Essence”…..”I gotta
get back”….. Twenty something years having been shed from his form he was looking into the
cosmos in the innocent frame that melded with the time from which he met that angel – he was
in a rapture. The toxins would act as a vehicle for his soul to transform returning from whence
and where it originated. He knew from this point on he would be in constant exile. He felt a
deadly follower behind all the miracles he performed from that point on. Having not the ability
to leave the earth yet instead he would have to graduate onto it in another dimension. Having the
gift of anticipation and intuition it couldn’t help him from getting killed. Maybe these were the
“riches” the angel was talking about and was awaiting his sister to emerge from his stomach but
kept waiting drawing out the moment of its anti climax more and more. He didn’t know it but he
had more lives and deaths to go through before she would be reborn again as his daughter/sister.
When he was on the bridge looking into the face of God his father, he felt the same emotion and
overwhelming sense – joyful, sorrowful and carthartic except he released no tears from his eyes
submitting to the ecstasy of a greater force: the joy and the power within the terror of his
sacrifice allowing his self to be consumed. Damn is taken back to his assassination now and the
falcon flies with his spirit back to the past to be rejoined to his moment. Fingers clutching old
dollar bills tight he put them to his mouth waiting for them to marinate inside so he
inhaled........... It was raining in many parts of America on Election day, especially in the South
which was not by coincidence. It was unseasonably warm where he was and sunny too. HAPPY
INHERITANCE DAY!!!......... He wandered off from the scene feeling lost and experimented to
see if he was a ghost. He then got on his knees to put his hands together. Then his falcon came to
lay beside him as a pterodactyl now transformed and he went inside its opened mouth knowing
the animal now but having faith to go inside.
HEIL NETH
The story of Neth starts in 2008, in a corridor - the short vein that leads into the dance floor, then
to the bathroom and finally out the door of the club into the second " in between " space of the
whole building - the mezzanine control room for abducting Boys. Ki-Il had practically lived in
this building since he was a teen and it resembled a pit more than anything else. You could see
how on every floor above it the shadows would get caught in small corners like mice with just
their heads or tails stuck on glue traps. Each one contained a very visibly animated arch at its tip
- as if they were wiggling - to make you believe that wherever they were they didn't want to be
there. The shadows would merge and elongate themselves at odd places as if to appear like they
had outstretched arms that were reaching to connect to a long family with a similar melancholy
- down in the dark pit. Inside The Club was hot and hazy with music blaring, Ki -Il had decided
to exit the scene to check on his friend who was manning the Abduction Room. It was an area
that teleported the Boys up to The Building Ontop Of Darkness where all the Albino Houses
gathered in. It was a huge absesss growth formed on the new Earth exterior, ¼ the size of the
world’s circumference it sat on. After the 8th day sun, the mountain beginning on New York had
formed into a volcano and progressed in size however angling out in a rectangle eventually it
became hollow inside. Its magma cooling over time, it merged with the gigantic cave as if it too
was aligned with the future. Its lava, its ashes and its dust solidified building up layers for the
foundation of a building, it became, the earth relinquishing its will to be manipulated with the
Albino goals. The Albinos would build their city in it. As time passed after the 8th day the
building would erect far out the atmosphere into deep space where if seen from a satellite the
planet would look like an exclamation mark or a ball stabbed to have a handle. Coupled with the
8th day emerging and the powers of advanced technology that Matt’s operating the White
Gardens allowed them, the building would be its own megatropolis, with its own zones and
architectures inside. As if it was mall-like with labyrynths of awkward interiors it also had
different transportation systems. Being a world inside a world it had landscapes that housed other
buildings and “work zones” for Boys who were Albino “revolution applicants” taking up much
of the earth’s surface. For the feudal – like government that the Albinos set into motion after they
took control over the world as prophesized, they’re had not been a king. Instead it was more
bureaucratic establishing a network of councils where “houses” could vie for control over
regions with BOTOD, Neth and Neth the latters being civilizations that operated around and
below the main building being in BOTOD. Neth lay in the lowest tier of BOTOD deep into the
earth surface in the cavity where the original mountainous volcano arose from. Through
generations this pit had been reformatted with the help of The White Garden and the 8th day by
Albinos and revolved Boys, to be a shelter for all premature life that had’nt evolved yet or who
were waiting to enter in the bargain that would have them transformed. This was where on the
bringing about of the 8th day all life arose out of who restart the charred earth they anticipated in
1984 and beyond and so everyone felt highly invested in modernizing this primitive feature of
there now new technological society. “ Applicants” in this pool were the last recipient of the
“groundhog” pills they were given in 1984 cycling from their old selves onto full and Albino or
modified “Vitiligos”. Most Boys had not gone through the phase yet not having that many years
for which have there colors change from pale to rainbows and other multicolored spotting. This
so foreign though for where Ki-Il had been, which was a portion of space in BOTOD, in this
place that was legislated for play, it was mandated that every male Albino must serve at least one
day's duty in the Abduction Centers at every club as part of its legislation.The Albinos were
constantly trying to push their civilization forward so certain areas in BOTOD were regulated as
“Experiment Zones for Boys to test new revolution techniques as it would serve both them and
Albinos - since the Boys were transforming only waiting to revolve onto Albino status. Therefore
certain areas being neglected in BOTOD over others this was darker, danky region since its uses
were for experimentation and for Boy uses to have fun in after work. In the dancehall that was a
club Albinos were in charge of opening up points in space making "slits in the environment" so
that another Albino could receive the Boys in other Houses in The Building Ontop Of Darkness
these being portals and doors into other Houses whenever an Albino commanded.. Author
wonders: are the flies reincarnated, demon terrorists or guardians sent to protect and guide
him because they follow him around - must smoke more cigarettes to keep them at bay
either way.
The slits would open the air exposing a slivered picture of the rooms on BOTOD that the Boys
would be swallowed and snatched into. Often a Boy would find his friend who he came there
with ( The Club ) sucked into the dark air and an Albino's hands grasping on to kidnap him.
Usually the Boys would comply but sometimes they would resist and the automatic doors in the
black air would violently close amputating whichever body part that wasn't on the Albino's Neth
dimension. Sometimes they would be so bold as to just show up undisguised to claim whoever,
whatever partygoer they wanted for all kinds of torture they performed in The Building Ontop Of
Darkness. Sometimes plainly in sight right there in the club or on the street they would stage
there "games". Usually these Albinos belonged to a rogue House that garnered fucked up
philosophies about the Boys anyway. It was illegal for them to do this too because it screwed up
all the other Albino's legal abductions waiting for a Boy in the BOTOD. After seeing a rogue
Albino in their Clubs, all the Boys would flee which meant it was a ruined night of "gaming" for
the Al's. All the Albinos didn't engage in the Abductions though, usually it being the liberalist
Houses that objected - some taking it up as a political issue even in the city of Neth. These
Houses hired Albino bouncers to protect against rogue Albinos when they bypassed the etiquette
of a lawful abduction - crashing the parties in stealth as they were in person by themselves. The
common law of Neth forbid such unruly behavior on the ground in the city of New Neth because
it caused drama in the Union of Houses. Talks about possible secessions emerged and
conspiratorial factions formed to urge potential for independent Albino nations. Most of the "Al"
houses weren’t having that shit though so they squished all the bullshit as much as they could
before it could even start getting cereus. The laws were how they instituted protective measures.
JUST SEEN A REAL NIGGA PIZZAFACE WITH FLESH EATING VIRUS WRITTEN
ALL OVER IT!!!!!! EEEWWW!!! Author: " dragon’s breath, charring what’s left of your
extras in your hole. You are a YOUNG RIDER but you should still think about not
smoking" black ink said to me. I just killed one of those flys with Windex and felt bad
about it afterwards. Though I wonder if I should because maybe their pestulence and there
buzzing is just them asking to be killed so there lives could be reincarnated again in a
better form. Maybe I'm a fly's spirit when it was fly in Africa. Go there and I’ll say The
Truth like Dante or St. Augustine.
A Rap:
Tonight for all the Boys who earned extra time on their "reaquistion credit cards" they used them
to buy time for recreation to dance and celebrate in spaces they thought were hidden and
clandestine. However unbeknowest to them the Albinos were able to track each new location to
infiltrate - setting up rooms and equipment to do abductions invisibly. Some Albinos coming
from liberal Houses defied the apartheid setup and went there to dance enjoying the company of
the Boys who for some they were friends with or employers of. They always felt guilty for an
abduction gone wrong if the "slit in environment" didn't close in time for a Boys full body to be
contained. The massacres on the dancefloor in the midst of people dancing and a good song
playing were always horrendous for the mood and the atmosphere of the parties even though the
Boys were disappearing anyway. It was harder to watch when it was seen and heard, with
remnants left behind like a Boy's hand, or leg or whole torso. It was like" fuck, he just got that
body too didn't he"? " I heard they don't feel it cause they just get recycled anyway" said Ki - IL's
friend manning the "Ab" room. "Thats what they tell you to make it easier to work here" Ki- Il
responded back with a tinge of insight. " I gotta go though, cuz I just remembered I have to
rendezvous with Boy 24 tomorrow for his arraignments". Ki- Il left that dense space of horrible
fun and exited onto the street - the music of Burial's "Archangel" coming on, trailing him and
then the soundtrack of another abduction gone wrong. He peeped behind him to see through the
door that was closing to catch a glimpse of a Boy struggling with his friend - trying to pull him
from his leg out of a "slit". Just as the Club's door closed Ki- Il seen that Boy get the air's
automatic door's solidity - to slice the Boy's leg as it was seen fragmented in mid-air and then it
fell straight to the ground - the music cushioning the sound of its collapse. The leg looking as if it
was being birthed six feet in the black air but severs it, making it just an aborted fetus of a baby
in a leg and so the toes are the mouth that screams - then its mute. A delay occurred within the
party then commotion, the helper of the other Boy (leg alivedead Boy) wails frightened then he
vanishes into the party's black void air himself. Once spotlighted the panic stricken Boys ( Boys
are girls and boys too ) crowd to flood in the streets with invisible Albinos lying poised like
snakes there to pick them off and then carry them into the holes of the nights "slitty" air. Ki - Il
walks calmly to the horizon uptown - the green light bulb from the train station transform
reflecting yellow to let him know he has ideas.
Walking inside the train station an older Boy who was on "homeless service" for an Albino
House asks him if he if he needs a swipe in exchange for a dollar, the Boy being very irratic as if
he was holding a conspiracy. Then the Boys wife being a Boy ( woman ) too says to Ki - Il "
there was a cat that gave birth in there and the rats were trying to eat the kittens so watch out
cause they were albinos and the cats was Boyish". On the train his mind talks aloud for him, him
"hmming" to answer it:
"People with nothing better....Elsie commission me to do a leather jacket with a sick coat of
arms"......."Nothing but the night and trying to be 24". "If 24 earns enough reaquistion points to
get a new name I hope he doesn't pick John Henry". "John Henry is such a strong masculine
name, I wonder if they would let him use it if its not Germanic"...."Don't think about him your
wasting your time" he thought. "Yor.Yorica.Eureka. Shareka should be the name for 24's sister if
he should have one.. No Exes sounds better! Fuck it if I have to I'll fuck his mother when I birth
her just so his next generation won't have to be Boys" he thought defiantly. Are they letting us do
that yet though" he ran down his list of New Neth laws. "Damn if not .......I'll just have to do it so
they'll have no choice but to make it legal - my family's powerful enough right"? Sitting on the L
train with his Apod jotting these new ideas down, he came to the realization that he might be
getting very attached or unattached to the Boys as he knows them. For his best friend, Boy 24
was one of them, part of the Boys but part of Ki -Il because they managed to get tight in years
"24" worked for him. Author: Mommy comes home and says "guess who's speaking at your
school tonight, Angela Davis"! I said, "why would she want to speak at such a wretched place"?
"Anyway thats not my school anymore...I ain't in school" - author.
"Fuckin hard to look at other Albinos in the face" Ki -Il thought as a new thought came to mind.
" The more you ignore me the closer I am" remembering a chorus from a song taken from Club,
couldn't get it outta his mind. "No one even can spare to leave there drinks abandoned anymore
for a friendly abduction too worried about getting abducted themselves I guess looking down on
the old black train’s floor imaging conversation that the bugs and rats might be having before
squashing them both: “These god - forsaken spirits in bugs and their treacherous antennae
twitching”. MENTAL AUTHOR DISLIKES. “The thor-ax's/ bitching”. “Roach amended to
rats whiskers - he must've snickered when he snitches in his rat before reinlife, spirit - the rat's
stomach giving him stiches as it heals HIMSELF RAT being pulled on zippers of train tracks,
the roach react to rat's mouth by washing off each armleglegarmHead before its deady”. “Image
it would like to be: serenly being in shower as Dove Soap commercial, suds drip like cream in
motion over cream skin it slimes on , slides on , absorbs into with water - Buts its dirtier as a
naked girl in Dove Soap commercial "careful not to show the titties"...." Oh shit there the
aurelo.... Holler , move over I want some of dat ill nana"! "Not so mean with the words Mr they
hurt ( a little one ) I wish you had if u tryna be touchy feely". " Dads is fatter and it splatters cold
on my thigh" as his foot easly wiped the fluid off his soles heal he looked at his cell reading a
message from his girlfriend. “Why the hell that bitch gotta be saying shit to me like that all the
time, too much information Ki- Il thought to himself cancelling her off his Friends list on his
BinoSpace in his transportable Apod device. Author has : Puns for punishing words with a
skeleton on his shirt like he’s a Marvel character. THATS ALL NIGGAS CARE ABOUT
ANYWAY THAT MAKES YOU GOOD = Skeletons, Character and A Shirt. "FUCK THE
AUTHOR"S HURT". Then Ki- IL's attention was diverted accidently looking out of the object
inside his reading crouch to see an ad on the train that read : Rape - The Original Instant
Message . He thought it looked appealing so he might switch services now for his Apod. In glass
on Ki - Il's Apod there was the reflection of that particular cart’s narrative. In pictures it read : L
train : Private Practice, ABC Wednesday, Pushing Daisies, ABC Wednesday, Dekalb Ave,
Jefferson St, Morgan, Montrose St, Grand St, Graham Ave, Lorimer St, Bedford Ave, 1 Ave
( manhattan ), 3 ave , 14 st Union Square, DIRTY SEXY MONEY, ABC Wednesday, Pushing
Daisies, (L) Morgan Ave, Do Not Lean on Doors, Please NO Smoking, littering, NO Music,
Assaulting Emergency Instructions. 8597, 2, 28,26, 88 etc.
A second chain gang version was captured by Johnson himself during a visit to the Columbia, S.C., area.
Johnson notes that the workers were in a fifteen feet deep ditch, hobbled with chains and knee-deep in
muddy water. He said they sang only one stanza although they evidently knew others. He attributes their
parsimony of song to their dismal working conditions and the fact that their regular song leader, a prisoner
named Britt, had escaped two days before, leaving them disorganized when it came to their singing. Their
stanza:
John Henry said to his Captain,
"A man ain't nothin' but a man,
And before I'll let your steam drill beat me down,
JOHN HENRY
1. When John Henry was a little boy,
Sitting upon his father's knee,
His father said, "Look here, my boy,
You must be a steel driving man like me,
You must be a steel driving man like me."
2. John Henry went upon the mountain,
Just to drive himself some steel.
The rocks was so tall and John Henry so small,
He said lay down hammer and squeal,
He said lay down hammer and squeal.
3. John Henry had a little wife,
And the dress she wore was red;
The last thing before he died,
He said, "Be true to me when I'm dead,
Oh, be true to me when I'm dead."
4. John Henry's wife ask him for fifteen cents,
And he said he didn't have but a dime,
Said, "If you wait till the rising sun goes down,
I'll borrow it from the man in the mine,
I'll borrow it from the man in the mind."
5. John Henry started on the right-hand side,
And the steam drill started on the left.
He said, "Before I'd let that steam drill beat me down,
I'd hammer my fool self to death,
Oh, I'd hammer my fool self to death."
6. The steam drill started at half past six,
John Henry started the same time.
John Henry stuck bottom at half past eight,
And the steam drill didn't bottom till nine,
Oh, the steam drill didn't bottom till nine.
7. John Henry said to his captain,
"A man, he ain't nothing but a man,
Before I'd let that steam drill beat me down,
Oh, I'd die with the hammer in my hand."
8. John Henry said to his shaker,
"Shaker, why don't you sing just a few more rounds?
And before the setting sun goes down,
You're gonna hear this hammer of mine sound,
You're gonna hear this hammer of mine sound."
9. John Henry hammered on the mountain,
He hammered till half past three,
He said, "This big Bend Tunnel on the C. & O. road
Is going to be the death of me,
Lord! Is going to be the death of me.!"
10. John Henry had a little baby boy,
You could hold him in the palm of your hand.
The last words before he died,
"Son, you must be a steel driving man,
Son, you must be a steel driving man."
11. John Henry had a little woman,
And the dress she wore was red,
She went down the railroad track and never came back,
Said she was going where John Henry fell dead,
Said she was going where John Henry fell dead.
12. John Henry hammering on the mountain
As the whistle blew for half past two,
The last word I heard him say,
"Captain, I've hammered my insides in two,
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REPEATS TO REPEAT. REPEALS. RETRIEVAL. RENEWED.
Boy 24 recites a poem sitting at the top of a volcano in Neth after it erupted in the
underworld under the Bloody red Atlantis (NETH BOTOD). Under the building he was
writing on his tablet :
At this time of day in the night the New Neth trains that went to Neth took forever - once they
ended in there routes. Ki- Il waited at 8th ave for thirty minutes until it departed downtown going
back to its beginning far from where he lived. Even though Neth had all terrain within him for
his "House" having a stronghold in the "Neth Union of Boys Incorporated by Albinos" which
was a city -based company in charge of distributing fair and lawful labor practices within the city
for Boys. NUBIA was the acronym spelled out in full. Because of this he easily had a job as a
"real estate agent" and he wondered " I wonder if I should take over Bushwick to rep it in The
House of Coopers" he thought to himself. His House ( family ) of black albinos owned many
other regions making him able to live all over - he decided to sleep on this side past the New
Neth region. Too awoken by relics of party, unneccessarily exhilirated by some abductions and
the noise he witnessed there, he decided Bushwick would be more soothing for sleep. " The more
you ignore me the closer I am". The train turns on exhaust, revs to chu, chu, chu, into the tunnel.
Falling asleep before he anticipated when he doubled over on his arms, folded as a pillow for his
head on his knees. The Apod loosened out his hand’s grip and dangled from the noose slip he put
on his wrist for precaution against losing. Riding on the train this way with his head dipped into
his lap the train jerked making his blond wig ( sacrificed rebirth - marked Boy hair ) fall off. Not
knowing it however his Albino hair was exposed. Exposed were its thin, orangey red and black
looking - multi-colored decaying peach scalp, as the hair had those colors littered all over it. The
hair was very thin - being almost transparent you could see the black scars and blisters
underleath, too thin the folicles were to even look like they wanted to live. They were already
dead anyway looking like a ball of knotty corn husks or hay turned into thread still coarse
enough to stand on end though. Quite Phil Spectory, jewwy , scientific-icky looking it was - so
they used the hair that grew naturally from the Boys to hide this - not being very proud of this
Albino feature but proud of others. They had ambivalence but violence too before they had the
former. Meanwhile in the Building OnTop of Darkness there was a Baby Huey type Albino in a
room consistent with the sterility of an interrogation room. This one had silver going along the
bottom sides on every wall and had a purple strip on top of the silver also streaming the sides of
every one of the 4 walls. The Albino had on a body suit that looked like a costume to mock how
the Boys dressed when they had to work. This one was very tight- fitting though like a wrestler’s
body suit because the big baby Albino like to tear his clothes off and see his reflection in the
reflective silver in the room. The Albino starts whining and then screams to himself and to the
Boy in the room shivering " BLOOD AND GUTS, BLOOD AND GUTS, BLOOD AND GUTS"
then proceeds to take his hand and dip it in a bucket to pull out gizzardy looking process parts
and guts before they turn to liquid being as they came from the Boys who evaporated easily. The
room had a drainage source in the middle of it to marry itself to the design of a bathroom. As the
body parts were instantly turning to bloody fluid, the Baby Huey hastened hisself to get on with
it. Now he just says " I WANT THE GUTS, I WANT THE GUTS, I WANT THE GUTS and so
he grabs the shivering Boy in the corner, seeming so big as if to be a giant he picked the geeky
Boy up and turned him horizontal smashing his head like a firefighter using a log to bust in a
burning house. He then dropped the about - to - be lobotomied Boy where his feet were and took
his brain matter in his fingers like a praying mantis and started playing with them. Giving
himself enough time before the parts turned back to liquid he took shit from his rear area which
was puffed anyway as if the baby had a diaper on. Using the brains and then the Boy's intestine
tubes he clogs it with the shit from his diaper, drawing happy faces on the wall, speaking with
them and making them speak back then squishing them at their ends to simulate a talking mouth.
He did this gently enough, though as if he were holding his own penis head. All the while with
the Boy's gaping holes and gaping mouth being wide open for view by the lightbulb in the upper
region. The Albino pauses his gleeful moment to look at the body that is obviously dead. The
Albino shakes the Boy's body but it then loses its form being just a cascade of blood and then
nothing in the baby's hands as the blood drains down the holes in the middle of the room then
recomposes to red vapors in the pipe system. With only the intestines he holds in his two fingers
( which were waiting to be blood ), he looks into the tubes opening as if trying to see down a
small tunnel and then whines and makes pleas saying " I THOUGHT YOU LOVE ME, I
THOIDT LOVE ME, I THOIDT YOU LUHVVVVVV.........AWWW...AWWW...AWWWWWW.
Getting up from sitting down - with the single intestine tube in his hand he smears the lips he
thought it had on the silver chrome, making it hard for the blood to catch and absorb into - being
too slick. He had some creative eyes through his costume of infantility to make one think that he
liked to play with Ketchup figures who could run fast him being Mayonaise of course. Even
though he was getting killed the Boy was part of the "Sickest Niggas Doing it Bet That Baby"
crew in Neth. Still this muthafucka had a wet crack though wit Do - Do, enjoying the shit too
using it like it was an instrument or sumfin. Very purposefully meaningful, he looked like he was
trying to put out a cigarette butt that remained lit so he dragged it along the reflective surface,
along each wall to punish it more, the line of blood being the aftermath that made another
dividing line in the space. Quietly the silver realized itself in its abjectness and was silent but
penetrating -foiled around the room like aluminum and the pink tubes disappear like water out
the hands of big baby that tried to hold it. When everything is done the baby boy looks at the
lightbulb and smiles like he knows he has a naked treasure - a secret the light wants. He bursts in
laughter as he withholds.
Everything was red being in the blood from which they ( Boys ) originate. It was only visible by
the red gas seen constricting around the planet but inside the gas was their Atlantis and the
Albinos "reservoir". It was an atmosphere above and below the urban desert oasis of Neth and
New Neth. Being transported ( abducted ) to the ground in the urban desert of Neth and then
sometimes to New Neth for they came in body form for the Albino's uses as liguid or as vapors.
NOW I'M ECSTATIC NOISE AGAIN: Remember to remix Kenny G samples for the album.
“The Earth has natural resources hidden in it with sounds they can be unlocked”
-scientist from an Exxon commercial
Outside in the wasteland of Neth aircrafts disguised as pterodactyls ram into a mountain that
housed the Boys camouflaged for the primitive zone. As there shelters below the sea level
became exposed when the mountain arose out the red waters to avoid the attacks like an ancient
saintly, martyr it stumbled and then fell and all the innards started collapsing. A vapor of gas
( Boy 24 ) turns into a drop of blood to be the Miss America that leads the parading vision like a
slug quite sluggish in traversing and the pundits are the leaders as he slides on and off the rubble
and materials that got hybridized in the crashes of the architecture. Out of the wasteland and
falling from off the hard surface of this bleak, Tetra, pterodactyl concrete back of the
asphalt's spine - MADE THE TOY TOPS ON AXIS SPINNY. SPIN CITY FUCK as
a raindrop is the main character being pulled by a leash from its owner beholden to gravity now
as liguid- to show you shit. It falls off the edge of the world that is Neth and past some black
galaxies onto an opposite lower tier in the reservoir of blood the Boys never recollect to know
about but reside in before they metamorph. Right above the calm red waters "that nigga" Boy 24
was contemplating on the volcano's jewish, devil, horn, titty in da' head like I said before tip
flickering between his states of evolution as gas, a blood drop and an amphibian not getting the
vitiligo stage yet on this journey. Imagine coastin on the coasts and he is the Little Mermaid
brownish reddened, hazy and ephemeral - all faggedly artistic and intellectually faggy washing
himself with the oceans blood or gas - ain't so little though- never bothers to run it through
fingers to filter soap sludge. Imagine walking through a once inhabit sultry ghetto with august
heats , so so deft x scapes and you escape into Jodecious longing from bass that gave buildings
Down Syndrome..doiy, doiy, doiy.. With the stoops as solid drool the black galaxies in space
hang from them on to THEM as black liguid metaMORFUCKSIZECOLOR to red - a clayface
remnant of life left behind the footsteps. Caves abrasiveness nags on the trek of this bitty drop
nitty then it sees the light of day type-shit on a cliff in the turbines opening, Columbine serenity
coast period blood baby (cum shot back out of the vagina) -its Volkish, primitive singularity, in a
drip drop looked out on the Red sea from off the plateau of Serenghettis like a cheetah alert.
Then it bent over in fall of sucider then suicides a pig latin name spelled Sufer in Another
Country. Suicide again as it leaps by its head off the bridge to Pulverization Nation. No fall down
logic for the blood nigga in liguid just gravity only. In the fall it looked back to its wonderous
elevation in reverse ( back against the ground in mid air ). It seen the architecture of its hood
better like a mechanic can make one unneccessary looking opposite into their skies in metal to
see what lay under the exo skeleton skinz - ONLY LOVE FOR THE SUPERENGINE FIRE:
LOOK LIKE TEN THOUSAND INDIAN FEATHERS NESTED TOGETHER IF I
HEWAS ON ACID. NOT PASSING YET? LETS CHANGE THAT : VIOLENCE
INSIDE A NAPKIN CLUTTERED WITH CLUNK AND CUM, HOW COME NIGGAS
DONT STUNK ENOUGH? WHY DONT YOU STRING YOUR NORTH
LEATHERFACES ON TELEPHONE WIRE INSTEAD OF YOUR SNEAKERS. THEY
WILL BE THE NEW LYNCH VICTIMS TURNED ALIVE BY A DISNEY ANIMATOR
IN A MOVIE. THEY SPEAK TO THEMSELVES FROM HIGH OVER THE
FLOODWATERS LIKE MANGLED CROWS IN DUMBO WHERE FRANCIS BACON
COULD HELP DO ART DIRECTION CAUSE HE CAN BE QUITE YUPPIE
SOMETIMES! Boy 24 is in a population of rain dropping onto the ground which is the growth
of reign on the hood. In the Black Atlantis of blood (gas) he finally falls to its sea, then sees
the mermaid men of Jodeci/Raekwon rebels in jumper suits with Guess tags on em. Clad in all
types of clothing to handle there own voices and microscopic chemicals they exude to protect
them from there own blood (gas). SO THICK. They and there's mermaid breath bounces from
the sun and forms black sweat that again drips from there slavemates on the ground to hang mid
-air in S - curls. Then swivel lines eminate from these ground Boys so they are truly luminent
and exclamatory. The pock marks on the concrete embedded into sidewalks is juice nailed all the
way down to there heads and get far beyond there earth's crust, bolting back down, back into the
red sea of blood or gas vapors. Seen are these SS soldiers lanquishing on beaches and cliffs by
the ocean's shore like out of work actors in West Village cafes. The drop of blood ( Boy 24 )
returns to these fish inhabitants who are his family in the Atlantis of there own blood -many
niggas nestled in there bloody atoms of gas that merge in one gigantic pool as a community or
even a family in BLOOD. Gaining ground again on the volcanos edge he looks over the surface
of this sea. FROM DARKNESS VIA RAH. BRAH. HIS BLACK NOISE IGNITE
MAGMA. LAVA STONE GOT MEPHISTOPHELES which must have ME. ALLAHssss.
At last he sees over the mountain and inside the blood to be the B before LACK and
CAUSE. Black because of this….Egyptian NaZI. Pain married in BLISS. LISTS IN OUR
BEAUTIFUL APOCALYPSE:
A star is born in the name 24, nurtured in these and other rhythms as Run Man feet pounce and
derelicted he pronounced "Can't Catch Me", he learned from an early age that its insane to not
have sneakers ( boots = Neth'n - + My Niggas we chillin' Running this shit , Killing bitches wit
our shoes on like OJ Simpson inside this White Bronco Beast I'm bout to rise, somethin beautiful
like a flour got yeast and if I have to I will shoot a dude,to get my own peace thats power to
everlast past this burning hour -then I'm dun out the oven to get sour dough to say me alil bit
louder though). That told him that on there earth if he ran fast enough that he would not have
features - at least seen by these other creatures. He could bypass pain by always being in a rush.
His bio could be crushed inside different tempos and all that was solid would melt into the air -
he's not even there. He's already been sucked and torn limb from limb by churning vortexes of
the Albinos manufactured Hurricanes to bring him from his unknown Atlantis to there surface to
be there laborer. For now he was at leisure inside another building (volcano) under the sea (gas).
The Albinos had renamed the city Neth after they came being the sister name of the place they
inhabitted called New Neth (escaped to). However many nicknames came to proliferate as
usually happens in response to suspected tyranny. Boy 24 renamed his "work zone" New Africa
and New Africa was holy from iron, inside of sweat, inside a reservoir crevace of fist skin - a ball
of fight. He was one of many who had been subjected to The Gingerbread Boy Industries which
was the globalized system responsible for ressurrecting all lost life back onto Neth from the
underground (blood pool), (gas chambers) as labor for Albino causes. As needed they were
always in transit from the sea onto the surface and back again. The Albinos system of pipes drew
them up like men raising their arms as birds of prey descending onto prayer. In one swift
movement accomplising many they sucked the night into their jacket sleeves. The Albino's
"Boy" access cards were these life magnets. VACUUM CLEANER PIPES PIPING ON
LIGHT FOR THE ALL NIGHT NIGGAS.
PSYCHOEGYPTIANARYANNAZIBOY.BOYNAZIARYANEGYPTIANPSYCHO
When Jesus was Young he look into the Rome then Roamed
like WOE
Then he got shot through the hand and the Hand said
WOE
Then he made himself in Another NewMan like
WHOA
He did all of this for his Roman Brotha Man
What fo' ?
I dont even Know cause they cause Woe.
And made Blood Flow
Whoa! :
The Gingerbread Boy Industries was the globalized system responsible for regulating
all "reevolution" applicants back into the world in New Neth as labor to help build the soon to
be megatropolis and imagined planet the Albinos envisioned 100yrs ago. There metamorpohosis
from being amphibious inside blood to have a revolved body and form after they were teleported
onto New Neth was controlled and manipulated by the Gingerbread Industries as it kept track of
applicants credit, their designated worksites and how much time ( credit ) they had before being
REINCARNATED.
fully revolved from the vitiligo stage to full fledged Albino. be
INDUSTRIAL NIGGA COMPLEXES MAKE IT
COMPLEX TO BE A PROJECT SUBDUED IN
NEGATION -SUBJECTIFIED. THEY USE
INDUSTRIAL OBJECTS LIKE LANGUAGE(S)
MAGNIFIED AND THEN MAGMAFIED, AMPLIFIED
INTO VIO outLETS CAUSE THER COLORS IS
VIOLENT AND SO THEse NIGGAHS ARE
AMPLIFIED 8 TIMES IN DEATH TO BE VAPORS ONCE BLOOD AND IF
THEY CHOSE = A BODY. Not on some Matrix shit it was humanitarianly liberal enough to give
people the choice of having life if they wanted it of course having to accord with The Industry so
they could be "readopted" again. If not then they could exist inside the blood in there habitates
under the city of Neth - inside the unseen ocean until they felt they wanted "life credit" . Life
credit could be worked for in order to access further evolution programs. When the Albinos
"purified" the earth they were mesmerized by peoples of color so they decided to allow them to
be there counterparts albeit as workers, to help stabilize and make successful there vision of a
new planet as newly altered beings -cohabitation eventually after being separate. New Neth is the
first major city and Neth is the periphery area by which the Boys live in when they are working
and have there bodies - a sub city of subteraneous freedoms. As of now this is the founding
civilization almost completely suited to the biologies of its inhabitants -accommodating Albinos
and Boys respectively. The creation of The Gingerbread Boy Industries was part of this evolution
being linked to The White Gardens Matt help to found in 1908 through his 'expedition". Now
working through White Gardens the Industry was a technological system incorporating the Boys
into "reincarnation status" after they were massacred in the Albinos apocalypse. Selective about
the blood that would be saved and whos, the Albinos stored reservoirs of a chosen body of
people so that the blood could go through a similar evolution that they did to possess a similar
essence. Everything is in its beginning stages however having not yet acheived a fully integrated
society between the Boys and Albinos. New heavens were mapped and materialized first
beginning in the Arctic and then in spaces under the decimated landscape of New York after the
Albinos inflicted its Apocalypse. Everyone who survived was somehow linked to the project of
The White Gardens to eventually evolve onto "Albino" status if they weren't already. Everything
albino was saved and cherished until The White Garden inside them would flourish when they
were to acheive the full realization of the newly evolved supreme humanity. Being a slow
process starting in 1908 it took generations to reach its opus but finally it did. In the aftermath
the "Boy" were created and stayed black to die forever in red but had Post Death without even
knowing they died - on the green earth that wasn't green. Mostly concretized it was gray and
chrome colored with certain areas being luminent as the Albinos replicated ancient civilizations
and married its architecture with the ruin landscape of old New York. The inhabitants wore
colors as well to contrast the drearyness of ghetto regions on Neth and New Neth. Magnetic
colors and hybrid fashions taken from Egyptians, African , Nubians and other colored peoples
cultures dating back to before Christ. Not very piercing and garish they instead were very regal
and primeval having affinities for flowing textiles, odd shapes and patterns geometrically
oriented to display there mysticisms and relatonship to nature - or what they thought was natural.
They looked as if they wanted some kind of attachment to the urban environment to reflect its
light the way the metallic structures and stone buildings did. Being of the landscape but not from
it and being from the landscape but not of it is how they relayed there aesthetic. They were not
people of light but people of "there light" so they manifested these theories accordingly and
looked cosmic because of it. Still they managed to find uses with culture's clothing they left
behind when they destroyed them. They looked like all types of energy - electrically primordially
pharonic. looking
Matyrdom arises it seems on the occassion when one is forced to challenge a myth through
embodiment to challenge the "law". Your meager weapons against our laws are just as powerful
- as they possess conviction, passion and above all spirit.- to purify oneself as a sacrifice in a
strike against it to appropiate it. When the accussor asks the accused through so few words to
justify himself he is asking something specific but hinged are questions deeply mysterious,
sinister and compelling. Something way more closer to absence - to the death of acknowledging
guilt in order to be rid of it if he/she is...interminably, infinitely ...guilty….. If not guilty of this
crime aren't you guilty of one far more profound and far more moving? Aren't you devastated?
These confessions speak more not to crime but to our lust for unacheivable power as a hero and
villain simultaneteous to be outside of rules. A lust for humanness at its rawest to be beyond the
rape that narrative inflicts through myth - beyond the universality that story provides for a body
so that it could never be sublime, unspeakable,silent,awesome and paradoxically dead. To be
unevidenced, unproven, unlawful and strong in the only thing that seems perceivable as true - TO
BE MASTER FULL DEVASTATION. DE-VI-STATIONS. Maybe not so Dull
Easy Eye/
Shes Easy on the I/
For Ginger Guy/
Take one step forward
Peel the White Gardens Off The Mind - that Flourish/
On the Ladies Hate nexted one over then I’m falling from the Nine/
Skirmish/ then gain Balance when I Ride on my Mania's Demise/
Must Pay Fees for Talents/
And I Seen my Third Eye's Violence out My First/
Birth my Death All The Way To My Curse.
SWV”WEAK IN THE
KNEES”
90's culture of concealment - big clothes , contact lenses. Millenium culture of containment.
Everything - Still Cold Gold Teeth Though. Millenarian Egyptian Aryan Nazi - Psycho Killer -
Throwbacks....
All the men dreamed about Finding Exes without knowing it. All in de ja vu that hadnt happened
yet they prophesized on the unseen. Ki- Il through wanting to give Boy 24 a sister to end the
Albino/Boy apartheid. Damn in his death wish after breakfast time on Election Night/Day after
being elected to imagine being a matyr, bring up his daughter/sister somewhere in his body she
hides. Then Matt prospects, checks for the woman in a fistful of snow he grabbed from the
ground because he is cold and wondering " what the fuck, why...so much white ground on the
sky in the Artic". "I'm cold will I ever depart this" he sighs as he chokes from the dirty smoke
arising from the fire in his shelter. He was wondering if what Damn told him years earlier on the
bench had been a lie along with his reason for being in Arctic where only him and his Esquismo
friends remained but even they were dying off too. In the igloo he rests on the lap of his
Esquismo lover as she petted his head filled with desperation. None of the signs of the White
Garden Project were coming to prove anything and he and his wife were on the brink of
starvation until the device called out to him in a computerized voice and gave him directions to
go to a special point by which he would be given further instructions. He grapped his lover, his
dogs wrangling them on his sled and followed in the way by which he was told by The White
Garden machine. “Come on guys”. But somewhere in the inside Exes in another region was
walking - sublime.
Walking with skin in her mouth torn she was using her tongue to find the wound to sweep the
dead skin off created by something hard and jagged she ate. She was left with an unseen remnant
that every now and then she ran her tongue over to feel and taste - the small pink strip salty like
bacon - licking her blood she tasted. Scars inside her mouthcave, stalagmite saliva might solidify
to preserve her viciously raving, vampire predator, spirit inside. But she wasn't a vampire at least
except better when she kept her mouth closed not opening it to let out mmmm’s or the former
name she had. So she did and stayed silent for most of it - the wreckage, the seen - the lips
pregnant inflated wit "come". Her tools are bleach, detergent, Ajax, Vix, chemicals you couldn't
fuck wit without "proper gear" but she wore her HAZMAT suit in a
AUNT JEMIMA COSTUME revamped by Margiela(Y?). It was vintage and she found it on a
fence when she was walking. It was a better vintage dress than the ones she wore before and
went well with her black leather heels and her hair that was tri – colored in two thick braids
fastened with a silver buckle. She realized when she found this outfit how much she liked to
wear black with a touch of color on her hair her sassiness was accentuated more in a way that
was sophisticatedly urban yet earthy too. The clothes did something to her sexuality that the old
ones couldn’t provide. One of those being, among many, was that she just got more sexier which
if nothing else was part of what she wanted. On better Halloween infinities she was Carmen
Jones. (Cut to those scenes of West Village nights with Brazilian haircuts on URBAN
OUTFITTER CRITTERS make these gremlins VACATE ! Che Guevara cancer - flesh eating
virus - NEW Jay Z is a good background sound for NEW CLEAR REVOLUTIONS. There's a
door person for entrance into fall-out shelters asking "are you on the list" ). She was stammering
stuttered like she was the image reflected in God's eyes as it was blinking her reality to serve her
time ReDEFINED - Refracted and Fragmented in a broken VCR that played her bootleg movie
on VHS and her silhouette in the audience was part of it as she walked out the theatre trying to
be real. SADLY SALLY IS EXES WHEN SHE CONSTITUTES DESTINY THROUGH A
PATRIOTIC FUCK and vice versa. " Filming Green Pastures Nigga" on Monticello "Are you
gon be an Extra"? "You could make some bucks" said a portion of the conversation over the
score.
Being in some zone on the other side of time the air had seizures consecutively delayed. Epilepsy
her air was a leper so she had her own incubator that she couldn't escapeand so she should’ve
sucked the glass wall as it was to make a vent ." And you on some Matrix shit" made
sense caught up in her nexus of Ammonia TOXICITY. In this artificial tunnel (she was in) with
screens speaking and needing Windex, a scene of grotes/guilty seen as she passes when the man
seems to catcall. The cyber-tronic Dominican man with no voicebox says from a tubular device "
NADING WIL EBER BE DE ZAME AGANG". She passes this monitor and individual ones
with individual faces in them - large enough that take up most of the screen like typical art
videos - all bombarding simultaneously. There was no more than 20 of these monitors and none
of the big heads ranged in skin color not too white to look Puerto Rican or Black. Like some kind
of Greek chorus of Power Ranger puddies they sound off to question her space in the theatre's
cruelty:
"You think you're better than us". "I don’t wanna be cause I was born into this"." I...didn’t make
it and without a doubt yes". Another one went "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes... I AM..... HE as
S/Himself". Another seemed to answer that with "I didnt voice this.. just whisper no and you will
needlessly feel humilated" The last puddy in the black tunnel said" DEM HITS I eat those, Hate
Its , Hate Its, stop it mommy please” . The tunnel ended wit these motherfuckers going crazy by
themselves in there jails of art scenes they seemed to be in the Arkeim Asylum of - psychotic on
their own religious theories even about psychosis too.
Finally she left the tunnel coming onto a road, then roaming it in a rural town. As she walked the
numerous trees along each side of the road flattened into artificial wood panels. Colliding
horizontally like domino rows being cornrowed as they were turning over, oscillating in 360's,
fitting edge to edge braided to be her 2d skies to get as high as the trees got. A set was being
built as fast as she could walk with her steps cued to every step she made. Then another aisle
though with the debris on each side - just like in the tunnel this was more Tarantino - Lynchian
- Khlrorine. It had all kind of cool propaganda ads to inaugurate the first coming of her
brother/father to get her in a good and modern spirit - a post, post, then Ghost Modern, in Eternal
Maternity she disappeared. Gutter punks seen scurrying around but some are narcs that infiltrate
knowledge temples ( street programs for kids ) and so they pretend to scurry harder - to look like
rats. Splinters for the teenage mutant vintage, ( military clothed ) ninjas - they pretend to have 80
year old wisdom albeit in young costumes. Came from debauchery and a botilized can of
"supplies" ( maybe a can of worms with worms inside - inside ). When she comes back on the
scene the streets had black scales which were those punks as asphalt to absorb heat from hell.
She walked careful to stay away from the motherfuckers who ain't chill when she seen the spit
inside there mouthes coagulating like pests in a tar pit agonizing about soon to be death.
Another aisle again. “Damn”! she said. She noticed her rhythm as she walked the stairs feeling
that a misplaced step would throw her off balance and she would trip over a miscalculated edghe
on the, taking off from the jolt of her mistake, this time self conscience. The she tought abot the
edge in trying to do what she did over again. In deference it tripped into a glide through other
interiors if a person were to desire stumbling but all evgvctdes reliant on a border67ir 5f6r67i
She desired gliding as she stumbled shuffled and steamrolled or/ and panted her way
rthrough.This one mirroring her destitution of an institution in a virgin state with American ads
of pubescent girls writhing elastically in bleak apartments, their colors are muted to barely be
visible as separate from the couches and beds they lay on. They looked so plush and cottony
filled and the girls don't have piercings because obviously they would pierce holes that would rip
them, then all there soft innards would slowly seep out - "They don't break when you bend em".
A piece of wood inserted would easily juxtapose bones in the bodies at least - as Bosch symbols.
But anemia and anorexia is written in the cold vomit mucus overcast of dullness - appearing to
look as if large swathes of 50 x 50ft pieces, scotch tape had been stuck onto the whole scene
- like looking through bulletproof glass, the visible filtered through plastic screens. I LOVE SAY
SCREENS, I LUH SAY SCREAMS - "SCREAM SCREENS". America's Cream Team.
CONFESSIONAL: MEAN MEANY BUT MINI : MEAN FIST that MEANS: MAYBE NOT
THIS: "YES IT IS WE CAN BE: HOPE: THATS OK THEN. The clouds are electrified and
mapped for HOLOGRAPHY to be her images in five frames animated in hot pink and magnetic
blues. Her satelitte was tuned to this and made her look up in the air every now and then to the
Toykyonic sky of blurbs in herz...Its slimey how the cut wires seep out live electric currents that
looked nappy like split ends in Japanese or white person's dreads - then they got a perm to be
more fluidity. Two of her braids erect to be like antennaes hearing high volumes of Infinity music
because her brain was a radio too. Acid House Techno, DubStep, Noise and Drone - then an
overlay over the instrumentals of a woman saying : " I woke up at 8:00 on the dot today.... it was
Superbowl Sunday. I broke down yesterday in the living room..I did crack too yesterday before
going to work..the man said " you're in good hands talking about Roy the Man I did crack with...I
was the protege"... Over the music measured if visible on lines , bars or soundwaves she was
metaphorical : HORIZONTAL SLUG GRINDING ITS BODY THROUGH KINETIC
ENERGY. "It sounded as if she was reading from a diary" Exes thought to herself looking up
into the sky fooling herself by thinking she would see the person in the voice there. Then
another broken dreadlock wire spoke from the rubber conduit dripping its lightning from above
being a broken ad ( must've been a radio's freguency currents in a static wave but then statis) as
it made statements through its damage. THE ARTIST IN EXES WANDERS cause it said "this is
JIST TiTiFIED and just us baby on the Wi-I-Fight your lovely zeitgeist bliss" ( last confess from
a missionary sound) said to bless from the broken visual. Exes served us way too much to
experience patronage from a server just like her. The way of gliding was as if one of her
persomns inits were there own breaths othered, and so they desireto hurdle them even theres!
Manufacturing distance in competiton inhaling time. If air is unknown, exterior to its
numbers437i6578qcr kugygvk,fu 69rt7836w498f7 c8tair 946c7i6t4w7fFRE WATER AIT
GDFTYFIRE WATER AIRC LAND LAND NOT HERE FIRE WAWATER AIR NOT BNHERE
FIRE WATER AIR CURSE ElecTRONs in Light , Sund Image Particlesd jkfgGGODD GOD
GoD God gOd DFoG DgOggOhggdGGOgOd Desire to hurdleher disability desire to
LINES
unknown exterior to AIR NOTFV HCVKTUF
ABRASIVE NESS CUT HISTORY
LEAVING WOUNDS ON REAL
BODY FUCK A LANGUAGE FUCK
THIS LINE ARTHE BLACKNESSS
I”L:L FINFD IN MEShe used to have a Somalian stomach
inside the stomach consistent with starvation from being too generous. She hid it with her apron
and a badass girdle with a dress over it. She went into a Chinese internet cafe replopped, to be
foreign in foreign but familar landscape. The landscape began to speak to her through a professor
she was watching on Youtube: "some time could originate on a wonderous gray day beginning
when you contemplate desperate beginnings in the practice of walks. Beginning maybe when
you get angry but you must remain smitten to the ivory of the once fertile endless ( it seemed
living here and not knowing it because of here (black hair) and ( Exo bone exterior ). You must
go to find it because you have to collect - it is more like a love needing to goosehunt, needing to
maintain the playful wonder, danger, mystery, the boundless.." BEFORE STRANGULATION
TO TWO ENSUE AND SPAC E IS MEASUERED BY LOST BREATH “Damn I’m LOST she
SAiD.IMGY"Please dont capture me" she thought to the professor. He looked at her directly now
in a frontal position taking his act away from the class he was professing to and then said to her
in her face "No I won't (capture you) but now you contain so much lawlessness so I can't bite my
fingernails anymore when we used to make love cause you won't let me". " When you came
earlier from off that road did you know you were a silver orb with only your privates protruding
from it and half your head"? "No" she responded back to the computer screen. " Well you were
and I asked you to be lude and hug me only then to whisper to you "do that thing" and then you
tore me to shreds with your razor tentacles". "You were a shiny beautiful machine like those
Chris Cunningham videos I showed you and transformed the way I liked you toIMAGINING
NOT EVEN THAT NO
THEMSELVES l STEALTHY AS AQUADIC
CANNED BNOT BE HEL D IN A SURFACE THAT IS
NOT WHITE AND HERSook like those drawings we seen when I took you to that Wangechi
Mutu show ... I knew you had it in you to morph like that to make me feel really good when
you slaughtered me". "Of course I put myself back together baby being an indestructible machine
too". She said " yeah I know but its all so hard to recall.....I do remember you asking me to recite
those famous quotes though whilst I was hacking you and recombining". " I like your bones
underneath though its better for my feeling when I slice your steel structure and it makes me go
harder when I see you restructure your body parts right after, to see them reconnect". "But
thats mainly what I remember about the whole scenario Prof" as she continued on sounding
frustrated". "Yeah, but I do remember distinctly, having to restyle you when you came to my
door holding that banana cowboy hat looking like somekind of lesbian stripper from the West
Village". "We had to shop around that day after the movie we made". Tell me why you aways get
into some deep shit and then bring everything back to sex though Teach why do you do that"? is
what Exes asked the simulacra cyborg next. She didn't wait for the response just went on to say "
the french people do not love me anymore maybe because I am played out for them but they are
really played out themselves too and now I have to settle on withering Aryan machines like
you... fuck I wish I never went down that road"! "Too late now" the face in the computer jeered
back. In the background the class was yelling "U.S.A.,U.S.A., U.S.A., U.S.A." as an army for the
professor so he could end the conversation. "Ima hafta take a vacation to be inevitable again in a
place like Brazil for Mikes" she ended the chat with, although by then he was pumping his fist in
the air to the sounds of his audience's chant. Politely be in Picture Kern/ You Wait for Turn But
Why Be a Black Blond on Savage/ cause I heard its better when its FIRM oh sorry thats not
NEW YORK CITY LAVISH = LIFE = DO U H+V>LIFE? It was Exes crowded night with the
Chinese Project boys playing video games and the Blacks sleeping in stiff cafeteria chairs after a
strong night of watching porn there. She also seen some young anarchists ducking as they were
coming out the low ceiling bathroom of the cafe with signs in hand and fluid snaking down the
posterboard which could have been saliva or the other stuff. They gave her condescending smiles
as they left paying the attendant for the time they used. Cutting down the street in the opposite
direction of her these nights contradicted flow ( Titian stadium city with Jesus smiting the Jews
as it was A Painting). Even still her work was endless for the starry night and the newspaper
cluttered sidewalks with her images on the back of Voice's with a description and her (phone)
numbers on em. As she exitted the cafe to figure out where she would break night - the Sunn(O)
monk, ghouls playing de basses in shadows following her - she was stopped by a mother on the
street.When she spoke it sounded like the voice she heard about the crack from the wires above
when she was walking. The lady looked
like@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((99
99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999ub
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt78t 777777777i6tgk
uykgyut7i6tyryr56ee4we4y5we4yeeuet is experienced by dodging both. Keeping away from the
ARTIFIAL BREATH. A GALLOP OF THE HEART OVER INVOLUNTARY BEATS TO
MANIPULATE HER OWN IN PURITY ENERGY FIRE ECHIOES WARMINLY OVER THE
SEA OF TIME AN D CHANGED HER ANIMAL SPIRIT WAS MORE THAN JUST
DERANGED IT WAS SICK AND UNNHEALTHY HIVVYV PRIVIYING BEHIND HER
NECESSARY CHANNELS OF BEING GROUND TRANSPORTED IN STUPIDS SPITS SHE
WAS PERFECTLY IT LIGHT SKINNED” D” D LIGHT IN NOT EVEN A GLACIAL SIOUND
WAVE SHE
WAS THE DIRTY IN HER GODS WORD NOT
THERE ABSURD PUNCK PUCK EXISTENTIAL FUCKS
AND CORNY LIBERAL FEMINIST LIBERAL REALLY
RIGHT WINGS WAS GLIDING ON THERE STUYP STOOPS
WHITENESS _ FUCK GOD
DAMN THIS BUT
HER RIGHT NOW CAN I EAT YOUR
ABYSS BABY I’m THE RAPIST NO
FEAR ME LOVE THE CELLULITE ON
YOUR ASS AND YOUR RISKS WRIST. A
gallop of the heart over involuntary breath. To manipulate her own. Own ed This and You on our
SoUND PLANTION WE WERE A SYNTHESIAC NATION AND MANIAC IN NEGATION.
To manipulate their own co- opted in the unknown
to make Exes question if the crack statements were real. Exes sees this mother holding a baby in
a garbage bag overstanding yellow painted illuminati M arches - got some kind of zeitgeist
tentacles outreaching to IN - Patients, there money having youth programs written all over it.
Exes gives her some canvas she had inside an opening in her orb ( thinking it deserved it
more ) she exchanged it for the baby's place inside the heavy duty plastic garbage bag. She
crawled in and got snug thinking " will my brother finally die yet so I can be born again. Inside
this bag I'll just wait so I can sharpen my teeth to make him easier to eat ". "As a matter of fact
fuck him cause I'd rather be with a Boy who's 24 in 2008" she said to no one as she felt
rebelliously ambitious and psychically grandmothery. "Fuck promises". IF THEY MISSED TO
CONJOIN/ inhaling with the open space and not its symbolic breath in the OTHERS OTHERED
NON SPIRIT BE MORE THEN WILLING TO SACRIFICE PENIS IF YOU USED THE SKIN
AS A PATCH FOR YOUR PIRATE SELF AND OVER YOUR BREASTS WHEN SURFING
ON THE CRESCENT OF HISTORI”S LETTERS AND THE IMAGES THAT YOU
BREATHED FIRE IN TO GTO TURN LIGVBVE ADGAEN AGAIN AGAIN AGAG AAIGN
JMN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN GAFGAGANININ AGHAAAGAIN
NNINOISE YOU ARE NOT BOY BUT BREATH THAT MY LOVEL Y MOTHER IN IN
CEST SHARES WUITH ME AS SHE IS MY BIG ASSED GIRLFRIENIN THE GUTTER I
ILOVE HER MULTICOLORS IN HER HAIR CAUSE MORE THAN THEM I LOVE TO SEE
HER APPROPIATIONS SO BARE AND MINIMAL AND UNPOLITE TO FUCK HER LIGHT
WHE N I AM SOUND SOUND SOUN SOUND SOUNDF AND WORD COMBINED WILL
DIE TOGETHER IN THE LIFE THAT BIND S WITH YOU. If thy missed
She rhymed to herself to gain dominance over the sounds in the processes of the bags intestines:
Inside
Inside...................
Then the falcons seen gliding overhead circling the bag as dawn came. The light muting their
blinking bodies to be a black fly in the distance like a helicopter in the Ghetto against the baby
blue: inside the plastic of the garbage phases to = MORE BLACK MORE BLACK MORE
BLACK THERE SYNTAX WRITTEN IN THE BRAIN'S INK SPLAT ON THE FRONT,
THEY THINK THAT PARAGRAPH PHAROAH FACT TO RELAY THAT KING (blank) ALL
OF THEM STILL WANT - React as React Against but they gotta work more on the Offense and
D................ THAT MEANS MORE PRACTICE< PRACTICE<PRACTICE<PRACTICE + = x
=
AAA <>+= MMM = ?? = V
A Plan:
Build a fort
Rebuild my brick building on edge of Bushwick planet
Pay for Soup
Get money first!
Burn it down
On the other galaxy that I colonize.
Damn found himself on a strange road that he diverted deciding to explore the surrounding
grassy plains and fields of green meadows. It was surrounded with forests and the landscape
looked healthy and sirene compared to the pulse of his heart when it beat faster in the days
leading up to now. He walked miles within this openness of nature that had seemed to invite his
wandering it. Miles and miles and he could see nothing else other than nature and his smallness
within it. Until he came to a farm for which not being surprised, having seen images in the past
of places like this, he thought that he could’ve been in Ireland or Iceland maybe. He asked a man
who was shepherding wild animals if he could rest inside one of his buildings which had been
modest looking but big enough for him not to be of bother to the man who was laboring with his
herd. He asked the man if after resting he could help him find his way because he got lost not
knowing his way back to the road. The man agreed but let him know there were preconditions
that he’d have to abide by if he wanted the man’s comradry. Damn hesitated but agreed only
thinking that his time there would be short and therefore strange that the man was offering
something else. He however slept there and was treated with welcoming arms as the man blessed
him with food and conversation. The next day he was offered a more permanent residence until
he figured out where to go and what to do in the time that lay await him. Working Damn on his
farm was tough and laborious but enduring for Damn who had never been in such an
environment that was so charitable and fruitful in its rewards. Doing any work that the man
asked him around his numerous wooden houses and farms they became friends and his stay was
peaceful. Later the man would show Damn a project apart from his harvesting and toil that
would be another exciting venture for Damn who wanted to take in all that was to learned from
this brief exile away from his worldly duties. He still thought about his family who for sometime
he had been away from but anticipated seeing again especially being able to tell about his visit to
the place he was in hoping the man would come back with him so he could introduce his wife
and his daughters to. He walked with the man many acres away from the farm where he seen a
planetarium- like structure with beautiful vegetation in side. They went inside the glass house,
walking around flowers, ferns and exotic plants with vines and fruits growing from them. Not
bothering to tell Damn about the horticulture the walked through the aisles leading to a basement
door in the floor. Thinking this was odd since he had thought he had known the man, who was
sweet, loving to share information with the Damn about the many techniques and ways of the
activities of his fam they walked silently down the narrow walkway of the greenhouse. The man
lead Damn inside the large basement room taking him to another door on the floor going farther
and farther down. Being deep underground now and Damn awaiting the treasure that the man
was leading him to he waited unquestioningly following the man. They finally reached the last
chamber where the man opened up a bruised, black steel door, opening upon darkness where a
lightbulb was fenced around a black gate giving them a dim yellow orangey spotlight tprovide
edges of their frames by which to see themselves amongst the abyss that was the interior of the
room they where about to enter. Before going into it the man said to Damn “soon there isn’t
going to be any food and these things are gonna come in handy” Then taking Damn further
inside where he turned around to Damn who could not see his leader and whose face was also
drastically shrouded in black, to say “ I’m harvesting groundhogs here for Groundhog’s Day
where he lead Damn by the hand disappearing from the trace of light that followed them in the
path leading up to the last step and the entrance of the door where the man made his secret
known to Damn. Not being afraid he went to follow where the spaces music was coming from
hearing the rustling of wings.
The above version of this story was transcribed from a promotional audiotape that
was distributed by BurgerKing in approximately 1989) AND SOPHOCLES IN
SEERS.
But the wolf was a sly old wolf and he climbed up on the roof to look for a way into the brick
house.
The little pig saw the wolf climb up on the roof and lit a roaring fire in the fireplace and placed
on it a large kettle of water.
When the wolf finally found the hole in the chimney he crawled down and KERSPLASH right
into that kettle of water and that was the end of his troubles with the big badOnce upon a time
there were three little pigs and the time came for them to leave home and seek their fortunes.
When the wolf finally found the hole in the chimney he crawled down and
KERSPLASH right into that kettle of water and that was the end of his troubles with
the big bad wolf.
Before they left, their mother told them " Whatever you do , do it the best that you can because
that's the way to get along in the world. The first little pig built his house out of straw because it
was the easiest thing to do.
The second little pig built his house out of sticks. This was a little bit stronger than a straw house.
The third little pig built his house out of bricks.One night the big bad wolf, who dearly loved to
eat fat little piggies, came along and saw the first little pig in his house of --------He said "Let me
in, Let me in, little pig or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!"
"Not by the hair said the little pig.
But of course the wolf did blow the house in and ate the first little pig.
T "Let me in ,Let me in little pig or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in" "Not by the
hair of my chinny chin chin", said the little pig. But the wolf blew that house in too, and ate the
second little pig. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin" said the pigs.
Well, the wolf huffed and puffed but he could not blow down that brick house.
But the wolf was a sly old wolf and he climbed up on the roof to look for a way into the brick
house.
2008 –
Pain [1x]
hey
been trying to meet you
hey
must be a devil between us
or whores in my head
whores at my door
whores in my bed
but hey
where
have you
been if you go i will surely die
we're chained
THE PIXIES
“Hey”
MONEY=CREDIT..?+= $ ********1,2,3….!!!!!!!!YES!!!!!
LLL
Contents
[hide]
• 1 Definitional criteria
• 2 Experiences
• 3 Various forms
○ 3.1 Grapheme → color synesthesia
○ 3.2 Sound → color synesthesia
○ 3.3 Number form synesthesia
○ 3.4 Personification
○ 3.5 Lexical → gustatory synesthesia
• 4 Research history
• 5 Prevalence and genetic basis
• 6 Objective verification
• 7 Possible neural basis
• 8 Associated cognitive traits
• 9 Links with other areas of study
• 10 Artistic investigations
• 11 Literary depictions
• 12 People with synesthesia
• 13 Further reading
• 14 See also
• 15 References
• 16 External links
○ 16.1 Synesthesia associations
○ 16.2 Community sites
○ 16.3 Scientific resources
○ 16.4 Scientific articles on the web
○ 16.5 Popular press
(Rihanna):
You’re gonna be a shining star, in fancy clothes, and fancy car-ars.
And then you’ll see, you’re gonna go far,
Cause everyone knows, just who you are-are.
So live your life, ay ay ay.
Your steady chasing that paper,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
You got no time for no hata’s
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
No telling where it’ll take ya,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
Cause I’m a paper chaser,
Just living my life (Ay!), my life (Oh!), my life (Ay!), my life(Oh!),
just living my life (Ay!), my life (Oh!), my life (Ay!), my life(Oh!),
just living my life
Nevermind what haters say, ignore them ’til they fade away.
Amazing they ungreat for after all the game I gave away.
Safe to say I paved the way, for you cats to get paid today.
You still be wasting days away, nah had I never saved the day.
Consider them my protégé, how much I think they should pay.
Instead of being gracious, they violated and made you wait.
I never been a hater still I love them, yeah I graze the way.
Some say they so yay and no they couldn’t even work on Labor day.
It aint that they black or white, their hands of
area in shades of grey.
I’m West side anyway, even if I left the day it fades away.
Some move away to make a way not move away cause they afraid.
– “LIVE YA LIFE”
IN ANARCHY
OF YOURCELVES
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
4.8.84.
****
@( )’S
LOVE
1
R-r-r-r-ring
R-r-r-r-ring
DUE TO CONSTRAINTS OF
SPACE
THIS IS NOT FINISHED. IT CAN’T
BEAT
ANY OF THE ULTIMATES AND ITS
REAL(S). "Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now"
When i was an alien
Cultures were not opinions
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Never met a wise man
If so it's a woman
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Just because you're paranoid
Don't mean they're not after you
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, (screams)