a magician's lie,
a musician's persona.
ain't no now,
or how could now
not, no nada,
change is upon ya,
like a charismatic persona.
over a hundred years
not nothin new, nada,
a dozen every day,
change is mundane.
ain't no now
or how could now ever change?
ain't no now
or now never changes,
show me something ordinary
and i'll zero on the strange shit.
when was now,
not now when,
was not now when.
put a weapon in my hand,
and i'd do it all again.
a cold nine that folds fine,
carbon fiber, cost a nigga's eye.
put a mic in my hand,
and i'll amplify.
gimme a pen,
and i'll be a future spy.
radar ears, satellite eye,
wifi network cry.
i rock it, i'm the top shit.
regular - like water from a faucet.
no-slip-grip,
can't really detect it -
i won't get suspected.
the reason for it's evident/my weaponry is relevant
assassinate the president
my plan is simple and not elegant:
rush like wild elephants,
every man trained and planed,
straight planks for my house; zero slouch.
a lyric from my mouth
aimed to murder reagan
asleep and drooling
on the couch.
the terminator time-travels,
the admirals orders chinese carryout.
put an organ in my hand:
eye, penis, microphone or kill-a-man
and i'll j-dilla.
in the big truck, with the chinchilla,
a boxer's quick-swingin' fist,
every verse i spit's a chin-chillah.
robot souls, go, and swim.
my eyes on the prize, i rise up;
up from the depths like a g-o-dzilla,
flamin' breath like the pope,
you think it's just a joke
till those japanese niggas hit ya
with the tokyo grope,
wu-tang brought back hope
and i'm just tracing snowy footsteps
down the slope
so i don't break the ice and croak.
the mic's a nice device,
be sure to use it twice,
open up your thighs, daughter
i lick your pussy with my eye.
ate it, love it or hate it,
both ways i can make,
cold beat it up, or straight pussy-worship,
nothin' but good dick.
lay enough
to scratch a seven-year itch;
even a paraplegic does a back-flip.
full stop.
spit a wack lyric?
i'd rather sodomize my pops,
than let a soul listen.
shit, like a baby, i'll smear that shit.
like a faggot,
i'll queer that shit.
like houdini,
i'll disappear that shit;
popular sounds are radio-active
don't go near that shit,
let me rearrange your brain
so you won't hear that shit -
we clear on that slick?
in my center is a fact you can't erase:
thought is the weapon
essential in any space.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzeZhCt5PVA
Showing posts with label the stone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the stone. Show all posts
Friday, May 17, 2013
property which distinguishes living from non-living matter
I am not going to
change myself today,
change myself tomorrow.
It's in the mundane
anxiety and stress
where I change.
I change in the now,
before the now is
where now lives.
Now is something
which never was alive.
You can't change change.
Change is infinite decimal places.
Living dead
change myself today,
change myself tomorrow.
It's in the mundane
anxiety and stress
where I change.
I change in the now,
before the now is
where now lives.
Now is something
which never was alive.
You can't change change.
Change is infinite decimal places.
Living dead
Sunday, July 1, 2012
culled from 'the stone' - work of electronic literature
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/is-philosophy-literature/#more-130657
But what is literature? That in itself might appear to be a philosophical question. Yet the most persuasive answer, to my mind, was supplied by a novelist, Evelyn Waugh. (Well, not just a novelist — also the most versatile master of English prose in the last 100 years.) “Literature,” Waugh declared, “is the right use of language irrespective of the subject or reason of utterance.” Something doesn’t have to rhyme or tell a story to be considered literature. Even a VCR instruction manual might qualify, or a work of analytic philosophy. (Waugh, as it happens, was not a fan of analytic philosophy, dismissing it as “a parlor game of logical quibbles.”)
And what is “the right use of language”? What distinguishes literature from mere communication, or sheer trash? Waugh had an answer to this too. “Lucidity, elegance, individuality”: these are the three essential traits that make a work of prose “memorable and unmistakable,” that make it literature.
It may be that the most strikingly obscure continental writing (e.g., of the later Heidegger and of most major French philosophers since the 1960s) is a form of literary expression, producing a kind of abstract poetry from its creative transformations of philosophical concepts.
Still, I sympathize with one motive behind naturalism — the aspiration to think in a scientific spirit. It’s a vague phrase, but one might start to explain it by emphasizing values like curiosity, honesty, accuracy, precision and rigor. What matters isn’t paying lip-service to those qualities — that’s easy — but actually exemplifying them in practice — the hard part. We needn’t pretend that scientists’ motives are pure. They are human. Science doesn’t depend on indifference to fame, professional advancement, money, or comparisons with rivals. Rather, truth is best pursued in social environments, intellectual communities, that minimize conflict between such baser motives and the scientific spirit, by rewarding work that embodies the scientific virtues. Such traditions exist, and not just in natural science.
The scientific spirit is as relevant in mathematics, history, philosophy and elsewhere as in natural science. Where experimentation is the likeliest way to answer a question correctly, the scientific spirit calls for the experiments to be done; where other methods — mathematical proof, archival research, philosophical reasoning — are more relevant it calls for them instead.
We need finally to break with the dogma that you are something inside of you — whether we think of this as the brain or an immaterial soul — and we need finally take seriously the possibility that the conscious mind is achieved by persons and other animals thanks to their dynamic exchange with the world around them (a dynamic exchange that no doubt depends on the brain, among other things). Importantly, to break with the Cartesian dogmas of contemporary neuroscience would not be to cave in and give up on a commitment to understanding ourselves as natural. It would be rather to rethink what a biologically adequate conception of our nature would be.
http://drunks-and-lampposts.com/2012/06/13/graphing-the-history-of-philosophy/
like atoms of stone
these links form a whole
from what could be imagined
as a porous thing or web
Scanning tunneling microscope image showing the individual atoms making up this gold (100) surface. Reconstruction causes the surface atoms to deviate from the bulkcrystal structure and arrange in columns several atoms wide with pits between them.
like atoms of stone
these links form a whole
from what could be imagined
as a porous thing or web
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