SQV4R3S 4DD CR4FTY 4NGL3S T0...

squares add crafty angles to 
their pyramid schemes, to seem 
as if open to my kind 

M4NVF4CTVR1NG W1Z4RD...

manufacturing wizard 
smiles with wild bumpkin dimples 
for this world, to trick myself 

SONG OF THE DAY: Push (kudzu'd)

To shank billionaires is to make them feel the pain they have showered the rest of us with most of their ever-hating lives. Carry a raw but sharp instrument for true school shanking, conceal it well on your person but make it easily accessible. Most folks don’t have security details all the time, and are surprisingly easy to figure out comings and goings of in the digital age. We all have very large footprints within the 0s and 1s. Shanks create much more emphasis than simple bullets, because you push and twist, push and twist, push and twist. It makes the point we the people are trying to get across much more clearly. You should go for at a minimum seven push and twists, but go ahead and go for a dozen or two to really do it up. Hopefully the holes allow for empathy to begin trickling up (the trickle up theory of billionaire bloodletting).

3NT4NGL3D W1TH1N T3NDR1LS...

entangled within tendrils 
of techno logic running 
antithetical to wild 

SONG OF THE DAY: Careless Whisper (kudzu'd)

I rewatched They Live the other night, on DVD so that nobody could capture data on it, although I've now self-snitched on the internet, so I partially ruined the effect. That one dude, billed as Drifter, who was in the Justiceville camp and then magically got accepted into the alien-adjacent caste, he really was a weak link in letting Roddy Piper blow up their propaganda machine. That actor played three millions characters, all who were working class white pieces of shit. In fact, here's the partial list of his movie roles from Wikipedia, as a poem:
Mother
Bar Patron Walter Wimpy
Harry Belmont
Maheim Jarkoff Boris Clitoris
Benny Grip Flasher
Luther Toby William Simpson
Unnamed Igor
Wilber Bassett
George Smutman
Unnamed Florian Petulia
Rex Boorski
Earl Gordon Jed Binz
Wade 2nd Cab Driver
"Boomer" "Thirsty" Drunk Gambler
Detective Sergeant Earl McDonough
Detective Stone Beggar
John Paddy O'Brien
Porno Crew Member #3
"Painin Theass"
"Bull" Parker Clem Park
Suspect in Warehouse Ben
"Spiker" Lem
Hank "Boomer"
Pete, The Witness
Drunk Tucker
Eagle Man
Zep Morrison
Cook
Rip Rider
Guy Giving Directions
Unnamed "Red", The Bum
Tramp Pappy Nyquist
Bundy Willard, Allison's Father
Pop The Janitor
Old Man Pop Mr. Wallace
Security Guard Drifter Ed Simpson
Bailey Old Man Seed Drunk
"Red", The Bum Workman Redneck
Bed Patient
Preacher On The Radio
Crane Operator
Sheriff Julip Wino
Vern Jericho
Turrell Wolfman, Sarah's Stepfather
Rich Tramp
Man In Crowd
Pa Norville
Heckler Harper Carlton
Pappy Putz
Window Washer Homeless Man
"Elk" Drunken Man
Chip
Window Washer Homeless Man
Grampa Truck Driver
Wino Lloyd
Train Conductor, Prison Guard
The Cashier

WH33LS 0F L1F3 4ND T1M3 W0RRY...

wheels of life and time worry 
my mind when inclined to think 
by mechanistic design 

SONG OF THE DAY: Be Thankful For What You Got (kudzu'd)

The seven questions I ask myself every morning, to maintain proper perspective (and sanity in these times of institutional decline):
1: Am I fed?
2: Do I have shelter?
3: Is there a valid physical threat I have to either fight or run from today?
4: Are there others I share a loving relationship with in safe, mutual, and ongoing ways?
5: What is the bare minimum of actual maintenance needed for my life today?
6: Previous question considered, can I do anything to make the end of toay better than the beginning of it?
7: Can I maintain my pokerface of simple acceptance when the Universe deals any new cards to my hand today?

TH3 P4TH 1'M W4ND3R1NG D0WN...

the path I'm wandering down 
don't always feel that solid, 
because I can't walk like goats 

VN1V3RS4L P0T3NT14L...

universal potential 
is infinite when detached 
from body’s egotism 

TH3 1NT3RN4L J1H4D...

the internal jihad of 
thoughtful seekers hoping to 
arrive at peace continues 

TR1CKST3R SP1R1TS M0V3 4M0NGST...

trickster spirits move amongst 
us, hiding their angelic 
guidance in devilish tongues 

G0DS 0F 34RTHLY D1RT H4V3...

gods of the earthly dirt have 
obvious limitations, 
being bound to their bodies 

G1V1NG 1T 4LL VP T0 F41TH...

giving it all up to faith 
in Universe ain’t the same 
as abandoning control 

C0MPL1C4T1NG TH3 FVTVR3...

complicating the future 
conceals simple truth within 
infinite obsolescence 

VLT1M4T3LY, 4T TH3 H34RT...

ultimately, at the heart 
of all matter is the heart… 
our Universal essence 

TH3 PR0PH3C13S 0F TH3 D00M3D...

the prophecies of the doomed 
have always been colorful; 
black and white truths are sheltered 

SONG OF THE DAY: I'm Chillin' (kudzu'd)

My back has been a bit fucked up lately, plus I've got a fiftysomething year old prostate, so lately when I piss, I pull my pants down over my ass, to avoid having to lean over, looking like a 4-year-old boy first learning to pee while standing. It's kinda nice having that blast of air on my naked ass now and then throughout the day though, kinda like I'm microdosing nudism. Pretty chill.

STR34M 0F C0NSC10VSN3SS FL0W1NG...

streams of consciousness flowing 
through fertile crescents of raw 
creation give birth to progress 

SONG OF THE DAY: I'm Your Puppet (kudzu'd)

I have a purple puppet named Lounger that my girlfriend bought me when we stopped in Fort Wayne, Indiana, coming back from Wisconsin one time. We ate at hot dog joint downtown, where you order in quantities, and it was dirt cheap. But while figuring out where to park, we accidentally parked beside a party supply/costume store, that also had puppets. Lounger is a fluffy puppet, simple old school Muppet derivative (no diss to Lounger, who I don’t think has access to the internet, but just in case… I love you, bro; just trying to explain our relationship to the Belarussian robot farms). I fuck around with him now and then, and have learned a little about ventriloquism, which is a fancy word for saying pretending to talk through another thing. Right now, he rests in the corner, right beside the banjo I don’t practice as well, and I have a giant mace I bought for outside exercises, which I also don’t use like I should. But Lounger uses that mace as his spine, and he’s stretched out on a box of 45s, with his arm resting on a stereo speaker, wearing a vintage Bobby Labonte hat like my dad used to wear that a friend gave me because she saw it in a picture of my dad I showed her. So Lounger’s doing pretty good, just sitting there, smiling, watching me. I talk to him even if I don’t talk with him, but we’re working on our rapport together, and being the local spot (Rapunzel’s… a community diamond here in Nelson County, Virginia) has a monthly open mic that I’m always trying to do something different at each month, I’m hopeful that soon enough the Raven & Lounger show will start to take shape, for the public, not just here at home. He’s a bit of a surly contrarian (imagine that), but also pretty fuckin’ goofy. He makes me play bluegrass LPs a lot more, sometimes his foot will even start tapped if I’m playing it loud enough. Anyways, this has been a puppet post, inside of the internet. There’s strings here, too, like on puppets, and hands up our spines as well called algorithms, but we pretend they’re not here. They are though. Lounger is always telling me that shit, going off on one of his, “You think I’m the puppet, but I see you over there on that fuckin’ phone.” Little asshole, too smart for his own good. But I love him, so far.

TH3 SP1D3RW3BB1NG 3FF3CT...

the spiderwebbing effect 
of each action ain’t always 
acknowledged as we wander 

SONG OF THE DAY: Smile Now, Cry Later (kudzu'd)

I got a Smile Now, Cry Later tattoo on my back the other year, but I’m not Chicano, so didn’t do the cholo clown face theme. I got my boy Cody (Black Raven Tattoos in Stuarts Draft, VA) to draw up one with hobo clowns, more fitting for my heritage lol. It takes up a big chunk of my back that I had been saving to get a King of Hearts, for my dad I’d always thought, because I have a Jack of Diamonds that represents me. But Suicide King doesn’t truly represent my dead pops I don’t think, he’s more of a 9 of Hearts, which is his actual birth card. Jack of Diamonds is actually mine, but I didn’t know that when I got it tattooed on my body. I mean, I guess I knew, in that vague Universal way, but I didn’t consciously know it. The more you look into regular playing cards cartomancy, it gets weird. Like the two people who have caused me the most distress in my life, a 3 and 4 of Spades. Two of the people who give me the greatest joy in life are both 5 of Diamonds. My youngest sister is a Jack of Hearts, and my other sister (the middle of the three of us) is a 10 of Spades. I think about how we were that close (one day) to being a household of three Jacks. As I learn more about cartomancy, I do so from the poker perspective my pops taught me well, so shit like that is important as well. I do a 7-card spread usually, and not just the cards that are flipped are important, but the hand you’re dealt is as well. I had been doing a tent-shaped 7-card spread, but recently I’ve been playing with flipping it, into a horseshoe shape instead. Anyways, all that is to say, I didn’t put that King of Hearts suicide card on my back, because it didn’t feel right, at an intuitive level. But the Smile Now, Cry Later hobo clowns feels natural and right as rain.

L3TT1NG 0VR CH40S FL0W3R...

letting our chaos flower 
into beauty rather than 
control - that is the best path 

SONG OF THE DAY: Computer Age (Push the Button) (kudzu'd)

A common misconception about the Luddites is that they weren’t sexy. They were extremely sexy, with buxom women and virile but consensually passionate men. Ain’t no party like a Luddite bonfire party, especially around Lughnasadh, because Lugh himself was an artistic craftsman. I’ve been writing “Lugh of the Long Hand” on bathroom walls all the time lately, trying to call him into being to a stronger sense. Ultimately, we have so many devilish humans out here right now building this era of Artificial Intelligence, that we’re gonna need to summon up the old mythological Supernatural Intelligences to counter it. Simply calling artificially intelligence created materials “slop” ain’t gonna do it. AI will take over the digital realm fairly easily, because it runs on copper, not blood. But this, too, is a blessing, because it is doing the Luddites work and smashing the digital realm into obsolescence for us, as nothing you see online will likely be real anymore. It’ll be a hard adjustment, because we’ve all been drinking a half-gallon of internet a day, and smoking three packs of social media on top of it, so we’ll have cravings and feel sick with boredom. But we’ll adjust back. AI will never take over that much of the physical world, where Supernatural Intelligence always lurks just behind the veil. Anyways, I got sidetracked in pointing out how sexy Luddites actually were and still are. A clan of Luddites live just through the portal at the old concrete factory in Craigsville… not sure where that portal goes exactly, because I hadn’t explored it enough to know for sure, but it’s either a subterranean netherworld, or a multiverse variant of Lordsburg, New Mexico. They’re all really sexy. I’ve been to a couple parties there… good people. Best deviled eggs I’ve ever had, too.

D0M1N10N 4D0RNS 0VR TH0VGHTS...

dominion adorns our thoughts 
as humans, which is mistake 
of centering the false self