Bot*ro do*s Abu Ghraib! (via Dr M*nlo)

"[1/137] is one of the greatest damn mysteries of physics; a magic number that comes to us with no understanding by man. You might say the 'hand of God' wrote that number, and 'we don't know how He pushed his pencil.' " --Richard Feynman, QED (quoted in: Clifford Pickover- Computers and the Imagination (1991)

"We pass a monument inscribed with the words, EVEN WARS HAVE LIMITS. Scattered aong the road are the bare chassis of cars, stripped of everything that can be removed." --Alan Huffman, Mississippi in Africa, 2004.

   "ALFECCA MERIDIANA

The heat is here &
it hurts me.

Pull-top
travelogue,

caught in this
black jade loop:

polar memory,
the shoals' air
lifting

off her sandal-blood &
the machete-
colored unsheathed
beach:

months made
of mealy apples,
mothman

helmets, dangling
pendulums
arraigning arcs for
self-prestidigitation.

I hid it in
my sleeve, scatter
ashes or salt

behind the hydraulic
equipment, the swollen
clownface
a plastic tongue

pulls you down
to the weak earth,
the weaker sky,
the weakest of
all my darling you
are paper-pulp,
you are a stickbug's

leg that breaks
in the goddamn
breeze."  

--Mark Lamoreaux in Verse
(via Cahi*rs d* Cor*y)

British portals.

Titan pic by Anthony Li*k*ns.

Blazars.

"For me, Easter has no meaning, it is empty, absent. But it's silence I wish to experience."

    "FIRE ON THE HILLS

The deer were bounding like blown leaves
Under the smoke in front of the roaring wave of the brushfire;
I thought of the smaller lives that were caught.
Beauty is not always lovely; the fire was beautiful, the terror
Of the deer was beautiful; and when I returned
Down the black slopes after the fire had gone by, an eagle
Was perched on the jag of a burnt pine,
Insolent and gorged, cloaked in the folded storms of his shoulders.
He had come from far off for the good hunting
With fire for his beater to drive the game; the sky was merciless
Blue, and the hills merciless black,
The sombre-feathered great bird sleepily merciless between them.
I thought, painfully, but the whole mind,
The destruction that brings an eagle from heaven is better than mercy."

--J*ff*rs


On my victrola: G*ntl* Giant- Int*rvi*w

About Iron Council and scifi. (via Ptarmigan) [What i think it's about: a not so long ago in which Rock 'n' Roll almost was turning this abattoir train around...]

"The moment the incense goes
out. The mask in time. Desert
Ubar that was swallowed up;
walls where scarlet ivy was.

Let me carry the five-wick
lamp & balance a sixgun
against the math of qcebo,
Ubar that the sands reclaim."

--Luth*r Futhark, S*cr*ts of Winning Langpo (1977)

In translation at last.

'Music finds its way where the rays of the sun cannot penetrate.' --Ki*rkegaard

"But Lovecraft seems not to have passed the final pylons of Initiation, as evidenced by his stories, and particularly his poems, in which, at the last dreadful encounter, he invariably recoiled, resolved not to know what horror lay concealed behind the mask of his most critical incarnation. He was haunted by his 'dweller on the threshold', failed to resolve the enigma of his own particular sphinx, and, because of this, no doubt, feared to use drugs in case his nightmare-vision swept him beyond the point of no recall. Understandably terrified of crossing the Abyss, he forever recoiled on the brink, and spent his life in a vain attempt to deny the potent Entities that moved him." --Kenneth Grant, The Magical Revival (1972)

    "The Dark Ages

Monumental mask,
for any amputee a lavish dogma,
flows with the olive tide but heft of magma;
of shanks the husk.

Mortal foolish craft
whose vintage ice cream dome unhinges mystery,
be more than his faculty to rust destroy:
and ferrous waft."

--Zan* Gort, Am*rican *mpty Quart*r, 1958