Saturday, April 02, 2005




Painting by Phil Smith.


    "cript"

Plutonian bildar,
wormy God wood.

Portion in this

and bloody whirlpools
and Pluto

crystal

Plutonian bildar,
wormy God wood.


Friday, April 01, 2005

    "Fading

So thorough the reticence
In a guise of "itselfness"
That as good goes in trance...
And when awakened berzerks
The dancers dream
Cutting sight for a One
Not dull or wide
But thin air spatials relaxed
To fears of this to that
Received as "Manna" truly hidden

Poison for the Prince sounding reek
That as chooser chooses the down
To fast chutes and the up of quick
Until horns blasting
He’s here...

Potentially for you in servitude
And then for self he’s less
For you, but here...comfort

Compassion on other becomes
Fire next time hardness
(Punitive measure) that sings
In the range of potential
The song of necessity bloom"

--Ovid Neal


Thursday, March 31, 2005

A wiz of "hard" scifi, in Mission of Gravity, first thought up a story about a known world far from this solar bunch; it turns out, though, that that wobbling of 61 Cyg was spurious. At last our starry snooping did find a trio of actual worlds: around 70 Vir, 47 UMa, and 51 P*g.

Rob*rt Charl*s Wilson, in Blind Lak*, in part puts his story on a world of 47 UMa. I don’t know if an author past this, did that with any of our now known worlds. What if a story’s world is now thought "spurious"? Pnakotic is my word for this. "Goldilocks" (70 Vir) now’s too hot...


    "SO THAT'S WHO I REMIND ME OF

When I consider men of golden talents,
I'm delighted, in my introverted way,
To discover, as I'm drawing up the balance,
How much we have in common, I and they.

Like Burns, I have a weakness for the bottle,
Like Shakespeare. little Latin and less Greek;
I bite my fingernails like Aristotle;
Like Thackeray, I have a snobbish streak.

I'm afflicted with the vanity of Byron,
I've inherited the spitefulness of Pope;
Like Petrarch, I'm a sucker for a siren,
Like Milton, I've a tendency to mope.

My spelling is suggestive of a Chaucer;
Like Johnson, well, I do not wish to die
(I also drink my coffee from the saucer);
And if Goldsmith was a parrot, so am I.

Like Villon, I have debits by the carload,
Like Swinburne, I’m afraid I need a nurse;
By my dicing is Christopher out-Marlowed,
And I dream as much as Coleridge, only worse.

In comparison with men of golden talents,
I am all a man of talent ought to be;
I resemble every genius in his vice, however heinous--
Yet I only write like me."

--Ogd*n Nash


Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Shoggoth on th* Roof. (via M*tafilt*r)


Halcyon thrown among dull days
A glowing throng;
And find only promising nothing stays.
Is this my song?
Is this my scrimshaw ball a world
To lull a bard, if any would?

Blindly thrown among dull swords
And bloody whirlpools'
Logical golf, this crown of suds
In hazard spills.
An idol glooming far away,
Vagabond gondola don’t know why.


Monday, March 28, 2005

Tsathoggua isk
ray sting whom

sobbing Ogpu igloo cultivar
barb air tsunami sky frown

Ragnarok dyadic assist star bilm
and agnystic owl


    "The Flesh Failures

Crackling sounds of rain
through blinds intrude,
and mercy is a feeding tube.
Through dazzling shards of dark
a starker mood;
mercy is a feeding tube.
I sharpen it on stones
the stone gods approve.
Mercy is a feeding tube.
You hold me to a plan
of plenitude;
mercy is a feeding tube.
Among the sharks my hurl
is going good,
mercy is a feeding tube.
A clown knows all the gags
that pass for food:
mercy is a feeding tube.
Inoperable remorse
rolls dead eyes and lewd...
Mercy is a feeding tube.
Mercy is a feeding tube."

--*rnst kipling (va Abl*Mus*)


Sunday, March 27, 2005

"Swinburne's influence upon modern paganism can hardly be overestimated..."  --Ronald Hutton, Th* Triumph of th* Moon (1999)


"If I could speak to a spider, I should find it quite impossible to convey to its limited intelligence any conception of our own human world. My obstacle would be its spiderism. Everything that I said would be translated into terms related to its spider-habits and spider-conceptions."  --Arthur Constanc*, Th* In*xplicabl* Sky (1956)


"Prim Hurd atends your call, & Palgrave proud,
Stonhewer the lewd, & Delaval the loud."

--Thomas Gray


    "Worshipful Company"

kingdom can
kingdom can
kingdom can fall
kingdom can
this dinosaur kingdom can fall
kingdom can
kingdom can
this dinosaur kingdom can fall
thingdom can
kingdom can
kingdom can rat
rat to rat do you think
kingdom can
kingdom can
that this dinosaur
that this dinosaur kingdom can fall