luka

Well-known member
So we don't have souls anymore. We don't have feelings any more. We don't have an interiority any more. So everything that happens now has to be a shared event. Nothing is private. Nothing is personal. It has to be a real manifestation in reality and not a stage managed spectacle. God interfering with proceedings. Reaching right in and changing the rules.
 

luka

Well-known member
Miracles. That's what is beyond soul. That's the next big thing. The return of miracles. Quite looking forward to it now I put it like that.
 

version

Well-known member
Craners toilet has a stack of old Italian Vogues stacked up in it. He's transfixed by the image. It's an addiction. Perfume adverts. What does it mean?

I'm not sure, but I get the appeal on a gut level. I like the way Ballard describes cars, the way something like Hockney's A Bigger Splash looks, clean surfaces, chrome, the way the water looks in GTA.
 

luka

Well-known member
Thirds conception of revolution is at this point indistinguishable from this notion of miracle.
 

luka

Well-known member
I'm not sure, but I get the appeal on a gut level. I like the way Ballard describes cars, the way something like Hockney's A Bigger Splash looks, clean surfaces, chrome, the way the water looks in GTA.

Yeah. It's seductive but repellent all at once. Old reptilian sex energies.
 

thirdform

Well-known member
Thirds conception of revolution is at this point indistinguishable from this notion of miracle.

Correct. this is why I never enjoy waking up. not because I want to believe in it, but people have been so conditioned (even the religious) to disbelieve in the concept of miracle outside their cultured box. So I just look stupid trying to explain it which makes me depressed.

I mean I'm only really atheist in a practical sense not ideologically or rationally (whatever that is supposed to mean.)
 

version

Well-known member
Yeah. It's seductive but repellent all at once. Old reptilian sex energies.

Something I've felt guilty about in the past is envying the lifestyle depicted in Bret Easton Ellis novels. I dunno what it is about it, but there's something about that completely flat, affectless existence that appeals to some part of me.

That being said, whenever I've encountered it in real life, I've hated it. The people, the parties, the whole thing, it's awful. You can just feel the life draining out of you the longer you spend around it.
 

thirdform

Well-known member
I just feel dissociated from both extremes. the kind of prole life that music crits fetishise and the brett easton ellis lifestyle. I can't relate to any of it. can't relate to university of Leeds wilfred's love for Migos in 2019 either.

Being locked up in hospital under the mental health act does things to you. not in a tortured sense, it's like the world is never the same again.
 

version

Well-known member
I can't relate to the actual thing, just when it's in my head and I'm inside that Hockney painting, with cars that look like they're made out of a single sheet of metal and I actually enjoy cocaine.
 

thirdform

Well-known member
nah but it's like do you really wanna listen to aaliyya with someone you're gonna grow to hate in 3 months time is what im saying. im all over the place. I only ever listen to aaliyya alone.
 

thirdform

Well-known member
People have too many daddy issues. Myself included. we aren't getting angry. we've all been conditioned to jennuflect. the difference is I utterly hate it and make my displeasure known even if i can't avoid capitulating. and thus my hypocrisy alienates people.

But other people dress it up in woke gloss.

Blue Cantrell was a deconstruction of this homeliness. but noone really followed it. When you listen to Aliyya it's like she's telling u to come chill out with her. I don't chill out anymore. noone chills out. chill out is dead.
 
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pattycakes_

Well-known member
Crowleyhead said the same thing. He said all those Latin people know how to do is dance and have a party they don't know how to feel sad. Always fatuously happy.

This isn't true. A girl I met here was telling me about a classic samba song talking about how in every samba there needs to be a drop of sadness. They're sentimental people who prioritise positivity. It's woven in. They know how to have a good time. But cmon, the landscape is fucked. They just made the choice to enjoy in the face of it. That's soul.

My old techno acquaintance is into this Flemenco bloke that sounds really arabic. actually i found some flemenco show on nts it was pretty good very melancholic. so I need to find the Brazillian equivalent now.

Gonna try and get some stuff together in the next few days. Flamenco is rooted in Arabic music which is of course some of the most melancholic/melodramatic music ever. Not that you didn't know already.

+ this is probably my ignorance showing but I've never heard any *painful* or heart wrenching music from Brazil. they all seem to be in our 1992. I'm not sure how. their sound world and the structure of the music doesn't really allow for agony.

Sorry, this is essentialising as fuck lol. like i said, ignorance and maybe some internalised prejudices. fucking wicked rhythms though.

They're definitely behind. But I don't think that's a bad thing. Progress is bullshit at this point imo. That's a mudd quote.
 

sadmanbarty

Well-known member
+ this is probably my ignorance showing but I've never heard any *painful* or heart wrenching music from Brazil. they all seem to be in our 1992. I'm not sure how. their sound world and the structure of the music doesn't really allow for agony.

Sorry, this is essentialising as fuck lol. like i said, ignorance and maybe some internalised prejudices. fucking wicked rhythms though.

this politically correct, uni twitter incarnation of third is frightening. stepford wives incarnation of him. like a vanilla sky mask.

like the system one.

in other words. soulless



that aside, the comment about brazil being emotionally stuck in our 1992 is astoundingly cleaver.
 

sadmanbarty

Well-known member
Bartys never had a feeling in his whole life. They had already disappeared from the world by the time he could talk.

i thought i was all emotion. falling in madly love every 3 minutes. cuddles. shagging. laughing. wide eyed wonderment at the world. every morning i open my eyes and it feels like the opening to pharoah sander's karma.

is it all a dream? an illusion? all a bryan ferry album cover?
 
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