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Thread: All good music comes from religion

  1. #166
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    How far through did you get last time?

  2. #167
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    Can't quite remember. A third or even a half possibly. Felt smothered under affectless whimsy and wackiness

  3. #168
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    It is quite wacky, I don't mind though. For all the wackiness, you also get stuff like this:

    No, as none of these, but instead a point in space, a point hung precise as the point where burning must end, never launched, never to fall. And what is the specific shape whose center of gravity is the Brennschluss Point? Don't jump at an infinite number of possible shapes. There's only one. It is most likely an interface between one order of things and another. There's a Brennschluss point for every firing site. They still hang up there, all of them, a constellation waiting to have a 13th sign of the Zodiac named for it...

    and this:

    Bland, still an apprentice, hadnít yet shaken off his fondness for hallucinating. He knows where he is when heís there, but when he comes back, he imagines that he has been journeying underneath history: that history is Earthís mind, and that there are layers, set very deep, layers of history analogous to layers of coal and oil in Earthís body... itís hard to get over the wonder of finding that Earth is a living critter, after all these years of thinking about a big dumb rock to find a body and psyche, he feels like a child again, he knows that in theory he must not attach himself, but still he is in love with his sense of wonder, with having it found again, even this late, even knowing he must soon let it go.... To find that Gravity, taken so for granted, is really something eerie, Messianic, extrasensory in Earthís mindbody... having hugged to its holy center the wastes of dead species, gathered, packed, transmuted, realigned, and rewoven molecules to be taken up again by the coal-tar Kabbalists of the other side, the ones Bland on his voyages has noted, taken, boiled off, teased apart, explicated to every last permutation of useful magic, centuries past exhaustion still finding new molecular species, combining and recombining into new synthetics... The rest of us, not chosen for enlightenment, left on the outside of Earth, at the mercy of a Gravity we have only begun to learn how to detect and measure, must go on blundering inside our front-brain faith in Kute Korrespondences, hoping that for each psi-synthetic taken from Earthís soul there is a molecule, secular, more or less ordinary and named, over here - kicking endlessly among the plastic trivia, finding in each Deeper Significance and trying to string them all together like terms of a power series hoping to zero in on the tremendous and secret Function whose name, like the permuted names of God, cannot be spoken... plastic saxophone reed sounds of unnatural timbre, shampoo bottle ego-image, Cracker Jack prize one-shot amusement, home appliance casing fairing for winds of cognition, baby bottles tranquilization, meat packages disguise of slaughter, dry-cleaning bags infant strangulation, garden hoses feeding endlessly the desert... but to bring them together, in their slick persistence and our preterition... to make sense out of, to find the meanest sharp sliver of truth in so much replication, so much waste.... Lucky Bland, to be free of it.

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  5. #169
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    Sun's out, spring is en route like God's own Deliveroo service

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  7. #170
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    That was meant for COTD but let it lie

  8. #171
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  9. #172
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    matt had a contention that happy hardcore was the real gnostic impulse of rave.

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  11. #174
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    Quote Originally Posted by Corpsey View Post
    wut? say it.

  12. #175
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    Quote Originally Posted by sadmanbarty View Post
    all prophets were shunned. they all took that first step of revealing their revelations in the face or persecution and ridicule.
    Pale Interregnum. Moon disruption. Stage 2- usurp the programmer. The current state of knowledge allows only for acts of sabotage, commonly in the shape of intoxication, of more or less randomised result and necessarily of strictly limited duration.

    All our attempts have been merely speculative and experimental. As lone operatives lacking systematic and organised collection and comparison of data and consequently no way of tying cause and effect. We are in the pre-scientific stage, the stage of alchemy. In this way we expose ourselves to great dangers in the hope of great rewards.

    To speak plainly what we require is full control of the reality-field. G-O-D is, in this hypothesis, a function we can appropriate, but how? This is the great prize and as such is jealously guarded.

    The positions on the board have no permanence however, nothing here is fixed as the game is still in progress. The weapon which is effective today blows up in your hand tomorrow. What is road out today is dead end tomorrow. All freedoms are provisional and temporary. Continue to dispute the borders of the possible.

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