Mr. Tea
Let's Talk About Ceps
This is actually brilliant.
Slim, send me an electronic hypertelegram: ollie dot harris at gmail dot com.
Edit: made some space, PM me if you like.
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Dissensus - The Novel
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This is actually brilliant.
Slim, send me an electronic hypertelegram: ollie dot harris at gmail dot com.
Edit: made some space, PM me if you like.
yyaldrin
in je ogen waait de wind
No biggie. What brought you to North Brabant then? It wouldn't be my first choice.
e/y
Well-known member
excellent
you
Well-known member
Mr. Tea
Let's Talk About Ceps
Mr. Tea
Let's Talk About Ceps
Meanwhile, cont.
Ben Drown, Sexine and Professor English sat in a square around a table that was round in the professor's study, which was full of leather-bound boo-, tomes, antique astrolabes, odd creatures preserved in jars of formaldehyde and all that sort of shit. Well, it wasn't a square because there were only three of them, but like a square with a side missing, or something.
English looked up from an ancient manuscript that was in like Latin or whatever and intoned:
"It is my belief, Sexine, that your grandfather was murdered because of his association with a secret occult society called Thee Priory ov Zion."
"Um, don't you mean Sion?", interjected Drown, knowledgeably.
"No, Zion", replied the professor, definitively: "Thee Priory is a highly clandestine esoteric order or cult or sect founded in 1977. It is an Afro-Futurist dub reggae collective and is considered heretical by mainstream Rastas because it rejects the divinity of Haili Selassie. Instead it recognises King Tubby as the second Christ and is dedicated to the overthrow of Babylon through the use of ganja and righteous levels of sub-bass. Their beliefs included a conviction that Jimmy Page is the Antichrist, partly because of his well-known obsession with Aleister Crowley and black magic but mostly because of the song 'D'yer Make'er' on Houses Of The Holy."
Ben Drown, Sexine and Professor English sat in a square around a table that was round in the professor's study, which was full of leather-bound boo-, tomes, antique astrolabes, odd creatures preserved in jars of formaldehyde and all that sort of shit. Well, it wasn't a square because there were only three of them, but like a square with a side missing, or something.
English looked up from an ancient manuscript that was in like Latin or whatever and intoned:
"It is my belief, Sexine, that your grandfather was murdered because of his association with a secret occult society called Thee Priory ov Zion."
"Um, don't you mean Sion?", interjected Drown, knowledgeably.
"No, Zion", replied the professor, definitively: "Thee Priory is a highly clandestine esoteric order or cult or sect founded in 1977. It is an Afro-Futurist dub reggae collective and is considered heretical by mainstream Rastas because it rejects the divinity of Haili Selassie. Instead it recognises King Tubby as the second Christ and is dedicated to the overthrow of Babylon through the use of ganja and righteous levels of sub-bass. Their beliefs included a conviction that Jimmy Page is the Antichrist, partly because of his well-known obsession with Aleister Crowley and black magic but mostly because of the song 'D'yer Make'er' on Houses Of The Holy."
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mistersloane
heavy heavy monster sound
Sorry got waylaid
"Oh like duuuuh" said Sexine, rolling their eyes. "Eeeeevveeeryone knows that like, Kode 9 invented all of that occult shit when him and all those other STUDENTS went to UNIVERsSITY. Oh my god, like, when people did that shit? It's un-bel-eeeeev-able. That was when Ant and Dec were in the charts and
injects, knowledge can make drowning.
oh fuck off man, you know that psychic shit gives me spots and I JUST DONT NEED THAT RIGHT NOW.
Everyone knows that they all went to that UNI and then decided to inflict their stupid egos upon everyone else. Oh MY GOD, what were they called? Like the Ctulthu Warriors or something, jesus. It's no wonder someone killed grandfather, it's his own fault. It's a wonder any of them are left alive. If you ask me it's Mark Fisher that's doing it. He's fucking off his head, that one. Report that cunt to the la-la police right now, if you ask me.
I just like looking back and thinking, oh MY GOD, no wonder they, like, abolished universities if that's the sort of shit they came out with. My god, have you read that Nick one? Jesus what a load of shit. And he was one of their teachers!
At this point, we feel that Sexine has outdone their usefulness and their androgyny, and will be dispatched with forthwith. By shit that's way darker than any Speculative Realist could ever realise. This demon blogs hard. What.
"Oh like duuuuh" said Sexine, rolling their eyes. "Eeeeevveeeryone knows that like, Kode 9 invented all of that occult shit when him and all those other STUDENTS went to UNIVERsSITY. Oh my god, like, when people did that shit? It's un-bel-eeeeev-able. That was when Ant and Dec were in the charts and
injects, knowledge can make drowning.
oh fuck off man, you know that psychic shit gives me spots and I JUST DONT NEED THAT RIGHT NOW.
Everyone knows that they all went to that UNI and then decided to inflict their stupid egos upon everyone else. Oh MY GOD, what were they called? Like the Ctulthu Warriors or something, jesus. It's no wonder someone killed grandfather, it's his own fault. It's a wonder any of them are left alive. If you ask me it's Mark Fisher that's doing it. He's fucking off his head, that one. Report that cunt to the la-la police right now, if you ask me.
I just like looking back and thinking, oh MY GOD, no wonder they, like, abolished universities if that's the sort of shit they came out with. My god, have you read that Nick one? Jesus what a load of shit. And he was one of their teachers!
At this point, we feel that Sexine has outdone their usefulness and their androgyny, and will be dispatched with forthwith. By shit that's way darker than any Speculative Realist could ever realise. This demon blogs hard. What.
Mr. Tea
Let's Talk About Ceps
Into the Zone(s)
It began with the Government-mandated registration of speculative realists and speculative real-estate agents. The wub-wub-wub of urban junglism had crept into people's souls and disrupted the borders of reality. Each day it slipped away a little more, geography became that bit more psycho and you never knew how long any given neighborhood was going to remain stable. The junk would numb you to the worst of it but even on the nod, you knew it was a temporary fix at best.
Oyster card, plastic wallet named for the chosen aphrodisiac of Roman emperors - gods made flesh who played at war like it was dice and dallied evenings away with beautiful adolescent fauns in the shade of cypress trees, cooled by crystal fountains in the warm nights of Etruscan summer. Now they transport you between InterZones 1 through 9, used to be 6 but then the city in one of its characteristic spasms of growth enveloped a couple outlying towns like an amoeba swallowing bacteria. I swear this goddamn shitheap gets smarter with each passing season, it knows how to get to you...each street preempts your every thought, buildings from far off have that glow of a promised metropolis but as you approach it's just another old warehouse halfway to being made into flats. TOX got here in '03 and left his paint-piss, gonna be gone soon when the council boys get here to clean the place up for designers who'll sell the same scrawl back to you on a T-shirt for fifty notes. London is not a new town: it is old and dirty and evil, before the cockneys, before the hipsters. The evil is there, waiting.
It began with the Government-mandated registration of speculative realists and speculative real-estate agents. The wub-wub-wub of urban junglism had crept into people's souls and disrupted the borders of reality. Each day it slipped away a little more, geography became that bit more psycho and you never knew how long any given neighborhood was going to remain stable. The junk would numb you to the worst of it but even on the nod, you knew it was a temporary fix at best.
Oyster card, plastic wallet named for the chosen aphrodisiac of Roman emperors - gods made flesh who played at war like it was dice and dallied evenings away with beautiful adolescent fauns in the shade of cypress trees, cooled by crystal fountains in the warm nights of Etruscan summer. Now they transport you between InterZones 1 through 9, used to be 6 but then the city in one of its characteristic spasms of growth enveloped a couple outlying towns like an amoeba swallowing bacteria. I swear this goddamn shitheap gets smarter with each passing season, it knows how to get to you...each street preempts your every thought, buildings from far off have that glow of a promised metropolis but as you approach it's just another old warehouse halfway to being made into flats. TOX got here in '03 and left his paint-piss, gonna be gone soon when the council boys get here to clean the place up for designers who'll sell the same scrawl back to you on a T-shirt for fifty notes. London is not a new town: it is old and dirty and evil, before the cockneys, before the hipsters. The evil is there, waiting.
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Mr. Tea
Let's Talk About Ceps
R.O.F.L.: The Third And Final Report
The Professor continued: "The same year Thee Priory was founded, four performance-art weirdos from Hebden Bridge moved to Dalston, which is in London", he added for the benefit of American readers. "They formed a highly transgressive and controversial electro-skiffle band called Wobbly Sausage - you may have heard about their infamous debut performance at the tea rooms in Fortnum & Mason, in which they sellotaped photos of Myra Hindley's face onto naked girls cut out of Razzle and everyone who saw them instantly exploded into a fleshy mist from sheer outrage. The lead vocalist and kazoo player calls himself Exodus B-Ranflakes and has had cosmetic surgery to make himself indistinguishable from Barbara Windsor" he went on, expositively.
"Zat is all fery well, but what does it 'ave to do wiz my poor meurdeured grandpere?" enquired Sexine, sadly. Ben Drown glanced over at her and started weighing up his chances of getting an easy pork while she was in this confused, distraught state. Then he remembered she was a French chick and who knows what goes on in their heads, I mean seriously? Sheesh.
"I was coming to that", replied the Professor. "Wobbly Sausage was originally affiliated with Thee Priory, as they shared similar views about musical eschatology. But in the early '80s there was an ideological rift when the Sausages declared war on everything, including themselves, and Thee Priory decided it had had enough to do with mad white cunts and told them to fuck off. Subsequent schisms led to the breakup of the band, and recently B-Ranflakes has excommunicated his own left leg because of its laughably mainstream interpretation of the Rite of Thoth. I suspect a former member of the group - possibly B-Ranflakes's other leg - is behind both your grandfather's murder and this mixtape of godawful shite that's doing the rounds at the moment and is apparently making kids' heads explode," he finished, nicely tying up this thread with the other stuff, Drown noted.
The Professor continued: "The same year Thee Priory was founded, four performance-art weirdos from Hebden Bridge moved to Dalston, which is in London", he added for the benefit of American readers. "They formed a highly transgressive and controversial electro-skiffle band called Wobbly Sausage - you may have heard about their infamous debut performance at the tea rooms in Fortnum & Mason, in which they sellotaped photos of Myra Hindley's face onto naked girls cut out of Razzle and everyone who saw them instantly exploded into a fleshy mist from sheer outrage. The lead vocalist and kazoo player calls himself Exodus B-Ranflakes and has had cosmetic surgery to make himself indistinguishable from Barbara Windsor" he went on, expositively.
"Zat is all fery well, but what does it 'ave to do wiz my poor meurdeured grandpere?" enquired Sexine, sadly. Ben Drown glanced over at her and started weighing up his chances of getting an easy pork while she was in this confused, distraught state. Then he remembered she was a French chick and who knows what goes on in their heads, I mean seriously? Sheesh.
"I was coming to that", replied the Professor. "Wobbly Sausage was originally affiliated with Thee Priory, as they shared similar views about musical eschatology. But in the early '80s there was an ideological rift when the Sausages declared war on everything, including themselves, and Thee Priory decided it had had enough to do with mad white cunts and told them to fuck off. Subsequent schisms led to the breakup of the band, and recently B-Ranflakes has excommunicated his own left leg because of its laughably mainstream interpretation of the Rite of Thoth. I suspect a former member of the group - possibly B-Ranflakes's other leg - is behind both your grandfather's murder and this mixtape of godawful shite that's doing the rounds at the moment and is apparently making kids' heads explode," he finished, nicely tying up this thread with the other stuff, Drown noted.
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