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What claim have I that you exist?
29 May, 2016 11:30
philosophy, quantum mechanics, buddhism
Whilst Marisa continued to shop in unnamed clothing shop in an unnamed shopping center a few hours ago, I checked Facebook. The top post on my feed was by Acy. He referenced an article that had to do with the Many Minds Interpretation of quantum mechanics. I was sitting on a squat stool at the base of a number of shelves containing articles of ostensibly new clothing. Humans milled and browsed around me as I sat there, a pile of ...
You don't want to know what happened to the wife
26 May, 2016 20:51
shambal, nostalgia, shibboleth
The switch that was eventually implanted just above the double fold of fat at the base of Shambal’s neckline had been planned for ages. It was his own design, in fact, for he had foreseen his future condition. He was never pleased with what he foresaw, but, always the pragmatist, he took steps to perpetuate his soul. Shambal’s concept of soul was shaky, sure, but basically, he meant the sphere of personality that engorged itself slowly (and sometimes even quickly) ...
Why we don't cater to the raging voices of the servants
26 May, 2016 12:18
shambal, youth, age
One must remember that Shambal Brambel was born both deaf and sessile. I was only when the first tenebrous tentacle plunged from the night sky and uprooted him that he began to become a renowned gigolo, vagrant, gourmet and visionary. Centuries have passed and the apex of his life journey is long behind him. He has enjoyed the ease of descent for ages and like the multicellular forms who shed their complexity and become paramecia once again, Shambal has regressed. ...
Shambal and his religion fetish
22 May, 2016 11:58
shambal, religion, goats, absurdity
Shambal was well known for his obsession with religion not only in his own land but in empires abroad both fallen and in the throes of power. He was brought up by a despotic mother stewing eternally (well, eternally until her demise) in catholic ideology. To finally flee his childhood oppression and its monkey clawing like his later cocaine demon at the back of his neck for decades and then for centures, he decided to reform the old ways and ...
The restless void between the stars
21 May, 2016 22:08
futility, destiny, death
Long ago, when the wind still whipped the edges off of sharp stones, Rabbit was a great trapper. He lived with his grandmother on the fringe of the Pellucid Desert. She was an ancient and emaciated creature, as well as the only other of his kind he could recall. Perhaps she was his great-grandmother, or even great-great-grandmother. Time was funny in the borderlands. In any case, all the rest of his kind had disappeared. His grandmother was very weak, but ...
I am of the cosmos as peasants are of the soil
29 Apr, 2016 14:40
displacement, medians, music
I am always frightened when I am invited to go to a authentic concert of some ethnic music. Let’s take flamenco, for example. Besides the fact that is pretty much howling mierda, the vomit of cultural emotions, why strain to enjoy a virtuoso guitarist through that haze? Through that filter? What is the point? Learning to divine presentiments from some arcana doesn’t make you interesting, you cunt! Why do people flock to see authentic music? What are they hearing? Are ...
Someone clean her brains off Christián's boot
29 Apr, 2016 12:25
music, progress, culture
I sit in a bar in Bilbao. The barman wears a beard and casually goes about his duty. This is in contrast to the previous bar, very close to the bus station, filled with backpacked women with demands for pintxos. Their drooling eyes almost matched the saliva that pooled on their thighs as they sat on metal barstools. They only wanted to get to the aeroport. It is a pity they are dead now. But, anyway, I wrote these things ...
Her dessicated cadaver shall be an excavation treasure
29 Apr, 2016 09:51
displacement, camaraderie, solitude
I wrote to Marisa just now: Dentro del autobus, hay Ingleses delante de mi y Alemanes atrás! Ha. locos! But they are not the strangers. I am. Jayson once told me, and actually told everyone around us, aligned with us, groovin’ with us and otherwise accompanying us on the dotted life trek through the universe: You’re lost and you like it. They are not the strangers. I am. They giggle like misfits, but laughter among the superficially inane is glue. ...
All bow down to the oily patch of earth
24 Apr, 2016 09:36
death, music, social media
A facebook friend named Ron Greenough died a few days ago. I don’t know the causes of his demise, but I spent a minute on his timeline and found he posted something (I forget what now) on the 21st. Ron and I never met. Actually, during the last few years, we never exchanged any personal quips. I believe I got to know him in 2009, soon after my mandatory exile from the Czech Republic. He was some relation of Justin ...
Were I able to move my finger that quickly, I'd have bitten the dust by now
19 Apr, 2016 21:46
existence, absurdity, meaning, meaninglessness
That capsule of condensed filth that calls itself Christián and I were discussing mild philosophy a few minutes ago. He claimed that two things he ponders on consistently are: Whatever you are doing now is the meaning of your life. Wherever you go, there you are. I’m a fan of both views of life. In fact, they are intimately entwined, and, as Shambal claims, Intimacy is the flower that blooms from cruelty. Taken from a modern viewpoint, both of these ...
I subsist peacefully by earning nothing
18 Apr, 2016 21:09
spite, memory, travel
Like every day lately, earlier in the afternoon, I took my twelve day old bicycle out for spin. I shambled up the incline of a mini-mountain to a disheveled vineyard. The trunks and stalks of barren grape bushes twisted and groped towards me, towards the sky and towards each other. Apparently, it’s not grape season. My ride today was brief and I believe the reason was lethargy. Still, it’s always thrilling to be out in the air, alone in a ...