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.

W3 W0RRY 4B0VT 0VR TH4NGS...

we worry about our thangs 
far more than human neighbors 
(nature ignores our worries) 

SL0WLY D3S3NS1T1Z3D T0...

slowly desensitized to

feeling what makes us more whole,

more connected to it all

TR33S 0LD3R TH4N 1'LL 3V3R...

trees older than I'll ever

get, just standing there, ignored

by half the people that pass

SVP3RN4TVR4L 3V3NTS...

supernatural events

happen on daily basis;

very rarely does it make news

4DV4NC3D TH1NK1NG L1TTL3 0R4NG3...

advanced thinking little orange

boys advancing across the

forest floor, flagless of course

SONG OF THE DAY: Footsteps in the Dark (screwed)

It is cold now but also I do not live in a country house with woodpile and stove this year, but instead in a city basement apartment, the shameful existence of a separated male lacking in financial security net, living in someone else’s mother’s basement. It is not as cold because I bought an $8 blanket from Roses the other week, a salmon pink color to challenge masculinity stereotypes, but my city basement apartment has gas heater, hooked up unseen connectors to city supply, and it will be silence in the apartment, and cold, and then the machine will start snortling with preparations and finally roar to life, filling my humble rented partial home with warmth.

I often feel the presence of footsteps in the hallway at night, and my children are horribly afraid of the laundry room door being open when they are with me. It is obviously some sort of portal, or there are spirits afoot. I have burned sage, and spoken the “THERE’S NOTHING LEFT FOR YOU HERE!” mantra of supernatural release, but unfortunately it looks like I have a bureaucratic ghost. Most ghosts in popular culture are malevolent or heavily involved in interfering with your life in some bizarre and reality-challenging way. I apparently am affected by a mundane ghost, one who just walks around the hall, looks around, and doesn’t really do shit. In fact, usually when I have said the mantra of supernatural release, which normally works, I can tell they just hide in the laundry room, pretending to not be there, until I forget, and then they start walking around in the hallway at night again.

With winter comes the roar of the furnace, which drowns out these ghostly footsteps in the dark, and it means I sleep better. Except I don’t, because it goes from cold and cuddled under blankets to painfully hot, and it seems difficult to find the sweet spot in between with the clunky gas furnace and decades-old thermostat. Also, I am haunted internally by my own ghosts, and failure demons, and worries and fears. So I will wake up, not sleep, pace to the kitchen down the hall, then back to bed, then back to the bathroom, then back to the kitchen, then bedroom again. I sometimes wonder if I am not already dead and I am the ghost pattering down someone else’s hallway, someone who is living an actual life, full of realized dreams and ambitions that are achievable. I’m probably not but it’s impossible to tell. Reality is never as real as people try to make you believe it is.

GH0ST M4K1NG N01S3, W4LK1NG D0WN...

ghost making noise, walking down

hallways again; "nothing left

for you here," I say again

3CL1PS3 3XPL0S10N 0F 0DD...

eclipse explosion of odd

light nestled behind quilted

clouds - celestial trance

SH4D0W DW3LL3RS C0NC34L1NG...

shadow dwellers concealing

their cryptic scriptures beneath

light frequencies my eyes see

M4NM4D3 TR4NSM1SS10NS FR0M SP4C3...

manmade transmissions from space

competing for control with

Earth tendrils' reclaiming grip

SONG OF THE DAY: gh0st w4lk (45s on 33)

Ghosts walk all around us, though fear-based poison culture tends to skew our thoughts of ghosts towards malevolent demons attempting to cause chaos and pain to our otherwise orderly lives. Life is never orderly, at least not according to manmade maths. Ghosts guide, and each day is one to be thankful for our ancestors still present, guiding and protecting us, watching over, and giving us another day to live and learn and grow. While I enjoy living life very much right now, I cannot wait to also enjoy being a ghost. It's gonna be sick.

F0LKS WH0 TH1NK TH3Y KN0W WH4T'S VP...

folks who think they know what's up

tend to over-harvest ghost

pipe, so I never snitch spots

34RLY SPR1NG WH3N TR33S 4R3 ST1LL...

early spring when trees are still

naked but backlit by bright

blue skies with puffy white clouds

G414 N3VR0NS 1MPVLS1NG...

gaia neurons impulsing

into blue sky, waiting for

that spark of solar spring green

S0L4R 3CL1PS3 D1G1T4L...

solar eclipse digital

camera cloud cover man

lounges outside forever

Jambar Jenkins Krupert November 2017 number eleven "battery"

you can tell my overall metaphysics by level of old metallica playing going on

by "old" metallica I mean "good" metallica

which also means cliff burton bc cliff burton was great & also lucky enough to die before being dragged into today w/lars ulrich

often when it comes to the arts I have a theory of how disruptive time machines would be bc different versions of ppl would be having jihad battles and their internal jihad between god and devil would play out in real time

metallica's a great example bc cliff burton would be doing battle with today lars but also likely an army of lars and probably plenty of jameses in there too

(I imagine for the most part all the kirks would just be hanging out not really doing anything to take sides)

the thing about this is likely now lars or worse yet a future lars poisoned by technowizardry would probably use time travel to have at least a few versions of cliff who didn't die and ended up sucking just like lars does, and mb even worse

whenever I get to that part of the time machine metallica wars I get shook bc cliff burton as an entity is so pure & unfuckwithable

[sadly I did a twitter search for "ghost of cliff burton" bc well just bc and there's a band actually called The Ghost of Cliff Burton, which goes against all my previous line's theories of unfuckwithableness bc obviously that fucks with cliff burton]

[and where is lars in the battle against this Ghost of Cliff Burton band? nowhere, too busy fighting off the actual ghost of cliff burton]

so yeah, overall metaphysics level is not super strong right now thus leaning back on the old good metallica

which in this digital age even that is polluted when I try to write a dumb stream of conscious blurb about time machines

& realize "the ghost of cliff burton" actually exists but in all the wrong ways

TH3 4DV4NC3D T3CHN0L0G13S...

the advanced technologies

of mushrooms' symbiotic

supernatural rebirths

MYC3L1VM M0N3Y SH0TS...

mycelium money shots

pointed upwards to see sun

create translucent edges

SM4LL T0WN S4N1T4R1VM...

small town sanitarium

haunted by lost energies,

now tourist attraction