Monday, May 30, 2005
Yay! The French reject something, tons upset!
A Joy- Four Tet, brand spankin' new baby!
Why does rhetoricpig find destruction interesting: war, natural disasters, fascist presidents and John Bolton as UN rep are all entertaining as long as I don't have to look at the pics of any sobbing victims' family members?
Rhetoricpig feels that John Bolton getting that job may be the best thing that could happen. His statements about American hegemony and efficacy are the closest to the truth I've heard from a high-level official. Shite, his statements give the hollerin' progressive left a run for their money when it comes to characterizing the establishment as completely amoral!
And this ain't a Bush thing, the men in the rears have just gotten antsy for action.
My top five list of Cthulhu Mythos writers, 1 is best, I invite critique:
1 Ramsey Campbell
2 Brian Lumley (early Lumley)
3 Henry Kuttner
4 Robert E. Howard
5 Clark Ashton Smith
HPL's name for Smith was Klarkash Ton
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Sitting ducks: two men, three triple-aught rounds close in.
Leonard Cohen- One Of Us Cannot Be Wrong
Biz Markie and Big Daddy Kane- Freestyle Boxin'
Aphex Twin- Pikachu Mutha Fucka
Rodney O and Joe Cooley- Let's Have Some Fun
Not this pig's words for the most. James Ellroy and CS Lewis take up the slack.
The two blew up; glass and blood covered three more men inching along the wall. Rhetoricpig leaped, hit the ground, fired at three sets of legs pressed together; his free hand flailed, caught a revolver off a dead man's waistband.
Shrieks from the courtyard; running feet on gravel. Rhetoricpig dropped the shotgun, stumbled to the wall. Over to the men, tasting blood, point-blank head shots.
Thumps in the room; two rifles in grabbing range. Rhetoricpig yelled,"We got him!," heard answering woops, saw arms and legs coming out the window. He picked up the closest piece and let fly, full automatic: trapped targets, plaster chips exploding, dry wood igniting.
Over the bodies, into the room.
"If you can't find a partner use a wooden chair", Elvis as demonologist?
Coryphantha macromeris
Is a small cactus that grow in shapes similar to a brain mass of twisted convolutions (really?). It contains macromerine an analogue of mescaline and is still used as a ritual sacred hallucinogen. It was used in Europe as a cosmetic to dilate the pupils and make women appear more attractive to men. Its more potent use was in a flying ointment applied to a broom handle and put up the vagina and rectum to produce the classic picture of a witch flying on her broom.
I have to comment upon those 12-century ladies trippin' balls to beautify their pupils. Botox eat your heart out. And what's a 'flying ointment'?
Meanwhile, I have you to settle with. Most truly do I sign myself
Your increasingly ravenously affectionate uncle
Screwtape, I mean rhetoricpig
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Me begging for comments and havin' my ish busted is tres lame, not ironic.
Ain't It Fun - Rocket From The Tombs
Todays' mythos god is Abhoth- father/mother of all cosmic uncleanliness
"...eternally carries on its repugnant fission"
Todays' mythos god is Abhoth- father/mother of all cosmic uncleanliness
"...eternally carries on its repugnant fission"
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Pigthulhu rises!
Mr. Oizo- Monophonic Shit and Smoking Tape
David Rovics- After We Torture Our Prisoners and Tsunami
Roots Manuva- Too Cold
My brother didn't get sent to prison... but the final court date is still to come. My projects and finals are just about done. I have yet to actually strike in anger any primary school children. And I've taken up drinking, again.
While not a fan of Bill Moyers or issue-oriented get-togethers, or even quotations from excessively rich texts like 1984, while not a fan of all that, I was struck and have been thinking about a bit of Moyers' talk at the Indymedia conference a couple weekends ago. The bit is this, 'Smith, a worker on the Newspeak dictionary project, is speaking to Winston, our protaganist, 'Don't you see, Winston, that the purpose of Newspeak is to reduce, to reduce the number of available concepts? To reduce thought. Don't you see that by 2050 there won't be a man or woman alive who can understand the conversation we're having right now?'
I maimed that paraphrasing but the first thing of incidence is the lack of an exception for the leaders, no exception for Big Brother in the above, the elite degrade likewise.
On a tangential note, do ya' think the children of the world-ruling elite, and thus the future world-ruling elite, osmose a level of knowledge and understanding unattained by the vast plebian masses?
On a maybe-tangential note, is the idea of a social contract the biggest wool ever pulled over the eyes of the common man?
Back to the degradation of thought. This ain't no future thang, nor a Bush spoil, this is the passed past. I was reading some Arthur Machen, specifically The White People and The Great God Pan,1895,1906. Mr. Machen has a wonderfully resolute and definite style. But this fogey leads by example, his secrets are his and his themes are not statements of themes but emotions and experiences, as inveigling as a coffin worm and as much of the solid ground as a butterfly or that poet, the albatross.
Or take George Herriman's Krazy Kat & Ignatz, this canon of anarchic formalism had a home in most funny pages of the thirties, nor was it lonely, Outfcault's Yellow Kid preceded it by 35 years, even Fontaine Fox's Toonerville Trolley, the HeeHaw of it's day, puts any modern sitcom to shame for its mass-media presentation of experimental formalism.
Leave me a comment and it'll be less than a month afore my next oinks.
David Rovics- After We Torture Our Prisoners and Tsunami
Roots Manuva- Too Cold
My brother didn't get sent to prison... but the final court date is still to come. My projects and finals are just about done. I have yet to actually strike in anger any primary school children. And I've taken up drinking, again.
While not a fan of Bill Moyers or issue-oriented get-togethers, or even quotations from excessively rich texts like 1984, while not a fan of all that, I was struck and have been thinking about a bit of Moyers' talk at the Indymedia conference a couple weekends ago. The bit is this, 'Smith, a worker on the Newspeak dictionary project, is speaking to Winston, our protaganist, 'Don't you see, Winston, that the purpose of Newspeak is to reduce, to reduce the number of available concepts? To reduce thought. Don't you see that by 2050 there won't be a man or woman alive who can understand the conversation we're having right now?'
I maimed that paraphrasing but the first thing of incidence is the lack of an exception for the leaders, no exception for Big Brother in the above, the elite degrade likewise.
On a tangential note, do ya' think the children of the world-ruling elite, and thus the future world-ruling elite, osmose a level of knowledge and understanding unattained by the vast plebian masses?
On a maybe-tangential note, is the idea of a social contract the biggest wool ever pulled over the eyes of the common man?
Back to the degradation of thought. This ain't no future thang, nor a Bush spoil, this is the passed past. I was reading some Arthur Machen, specifically The White People and The Great God Pan,1895,1906. Mr. Machen has a wonderfully resolute and definite style. But this fogey leads by example, his secrets are his and his themes are not statements of themes but emotions and experiences, as inveigling as a coffin worm and as much of the solid ground as a butterfly or that poet, the albatross.
Or take George Herriman's Krazy Kat & Ignatz, this canon of anarchic formalism had a home in most funny pages of the thirties, nor was it lonely, Outfcault's Yellow Kid preceded it by 35 years, even Fontaine Fox's Toonerville Trolley, the HeeHaw of it's day, puts any modern sitcom to shame for its mass-media presentation of experimental formalism.
Leave me a comment and it'll be less than a month afore my next oinks.
