Black-And-White Skulls Strike Process Musics

More murk maw magma     More murk mask phantom: more mask of the phantasm     My brain animates acid bath jezebel     Murk mad myth mother fuckers I record laser disc murk mark ark young machetes

The night was a knife that cut and I am paralyzed / strange how paranoia can link up with reality now and then

Night now nocturne: eerie dissonances provided a backdrop to sounds of nature and lonely melodies     Night new drop nocturne: quiet, blurred cluster chords and imitations of the twittering of birds and croaking of nocturnal creatures     Night nail knock near now night death: in an atmosphere of hushed expectancy, a tapestry is woven of the tiny sounds of nocturnal animals and insects     Night nail nylon knits now knives: here down the valley, furtive vision and fugitive melody

I drink night music and night nests a tufted tithouse a wood thrush     Wood thrush threshold threshing floor     Threshold tetrachords claws cloning blues blue hues horoscope     I drink night music drift: drift drag a river many single things going to almost the same place at almost the same time

I write this other thing, this new thing fire music     Fire music a continual material flow – her hyle – that it cuts into     I write this other thing now cuts     I cut noise new conspiracy comic-tragedy concertos

I write rock n’ roll masquerade residue

Dark     Dark divine gloom     Dark divine gloom gods     Gloom gods mushroom underground

I’d use those melodies as a start and have different simple melodies going in and out of a piece

Melodies: the mouth that cuts off not only the flow of milk abut also the flow of air and sound     Sound some sound a summa folk melodies folk machines     Folk etymologies folk miracles     Miracle machine tumor mass taryn margins

Melody through a scanner darkly     Melody dark purple martin desert     Desert melody dry etchings     Dry etching alcheringa I see a beautiful a beautiful horse grazing with two heads, one in front and one in back

I do not keep the dreams and visions coherent: rather the Archangel Raphael visits and speaks sparse spark dream and mushroom medicine     I write the room even though the murk seeps mud walls     Mud wail wails grasshopper woman and cicada women

Alto altissimo circular breathing blowfish     Alto altissimo a scanner darkly circular breathing basking shark

Ten-in-One super-unknown and super-brilliant and highest summit if the mystic oracles     Ten-in-One super-luminous gloom

If the scanner only sees darkly, the way I myself do, then we are cursed, cursed again and like we have been continually, and we’ll wind up dead this way, knowing very little and getting that little fragment wrong too

Ten-in-One a scanner darkly desert murk / super-luminous gloom of silence, revealing hidden things, which in its deepest dark shines above the most super-brilliant     Deepest darkness super-brilliance / tone cluster oracle ouroboros

I write warble work

Write warble work gospel of thomas gopher towers

Write warblework write retraced gospel of thomas twin tire swings

Thomas tides twins chronos orange pulp kenosis

A blood-curdling combination!  They craved flesh with a hunger!  BLOOD LUST     Plus     See it – feel it – taste it – once you have have had it you will never be the same!!! BLOOD MANIA It’s a deadly nightmare!  Intense humor!  Warning: we cannot be responsible if you never sleep again!

Book archives     Warblework Book archives warblework     Warblework both directions at once folk melodies then textures

I dream the Book as library, and although I organize the library haphazardly, eventually one discovers everything     I discover many benjamins blood below and above     Library overwhelms me     Bloody library overwhelms ben bloody bodies

ben body bodies blood lust blood mania     body melt hamartia     body melt hat hut records rack hamartia

From simple melody to complicated textures to simplicity again and then back to the more dense, the more complex sounds

Din density     Din density draw maw hellmouth a scanner darkly     I attempt a double tongue density     A doubting mania density cuts continuous infinite flux / intestine-machine stomach-machine mouth-machine     My mouth opens darker oracle dawn-chorus desert

Tone clusters oracle ouroboros     Human oddity oracle open desert / erosion earth     Erosion erotic earth irks dark dirk births bobby pin beetles     Beetles bray bray bobby soxers     Beetle blood lust blood mania blurred heterophony

Born freaks made freaks fine shine polish flesh / dissonant sideshow desert     Dissonant sideshow desert daredevil sounds: sounds stunt tone clusters (the last two bars, played with overlapping hands, a dense cluster)     Desert disaster or desert dissonance eloi eloi lema sabachtani (stations of the cross: lema sabacthani     a series of 14 black and white paintings by Barnett Newman) (color field raw canvas only offset by two vertical bands)

I prepare to paint a certain density that drives black-and-white field far-off flesh     I prepare the page as pigment and the stanza as canvas     I don’t feel quite sure what I do with these canvases, these rolls of undeveloped film, but I write a painting and I write a cinema (an actual film projected analog     a structuralist flicker film)

I fail the writing but I do not discard the writing     I fail the writing and accept its process     Process that processes word salt wash wash rhythm (basic rhythm from Clapping Music by Steve Reich, which is played against itself     first in rhythmic unison, the with one beat moved ahead by an eight note, then another, and so on, until they are back together – an example of Nyman’s process-type 4)     Process happens clapping pendulum music     Process happens through a scanner darkly and I write murk mora magi several massacres of innocents

I pursue process     Pursue process aporia (a highly complex dynamic phenomenon involving audible structures that evolve in the course of a musical performance…  second order audible developments, audible developments within audible developments)

I pursue process (SIN stands for sabotage women of the street or weapon of war)

Pursue process and not perfection (you’ve seen the others – now see the real thing!  CHECK MY OIL, BABY)

Process pursue process inclined plane aporia (HOUSE OF DEATH he wants their pieces… in pieces)

Play any thing and play it fucking loud

Desert disaster or desert dissonance / eloi eloi lema sabachtani     I paint process     I pigment process play paint     Pin the tail on the donkey desert paint dust lust     I paint then print pink laser beam bray desert donkey     I pause paint but never process (cut process: let process: process happens hazardous desert gods)

When the God abandons, then what process     God abandons daily eloi eloi lema sabacthani     Daily he calls to Elijah and no Elijah, much less gods     If I contemplate myself without god too deeply, I feel suicidal, with no god to comfort     I don’t abandon the process process between and below stations of the cross

Not as the process of composition, but rather pieces of music that are, literally, processes.  The distinctive thing about musical processes is that they determine all the note-to-note (sound-to-sound) details and the overall form simultaneously (think of a round or infinite canon)

Process: play between notebooks     Notebook copies notebook and scripture transcribes scripture

Portrait-oriented, black-and-white paintings and bold stripes full vertical in their thrust, crosses with horizontal shafts

I cross the cross / my body surrounds

I crowd the cross bodies surround gologtha     Cross crows my body cameras chains instant coffee     Cross covers cross crowded skull dwelt yonder by the churchyard     Cross crane churchlight carbonlight crucifixion laugh tracks

When they came to the place called skull, they crucified him there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left

My skull crows skull the cross

My skull portrait-oriented inks black-and-white spare canvas of cross

My skull portrait-oriented surface-to-air missile missile command crucifixions

My skull thrusts vertical black towers fires onto white towers fires     My fiery skull thrusts vertical skull stacks jack skeleton topos dizzy

I Try To Get More Form In The Free Form

Asia says or I think Asia says to write with sincerity and honesty and to involve my self     I obscure my life with occult and roundabout eclipse: my life embarrasses me and my thoughts embarrass me     I cannot write confessional poetry     I cannot write the open holy bridal chamber of Robert Lowell, Anne Sexton, and Sylvia Plath: my confessional thoughts bruise and embarrass     Look at my embarrassing bruises little boy blue blow your horn     I blow twelve bar embarrassing blues (featured a new emphasis on intense, uninhibited discussion of persons, family, and psychological struggles)

Asia appears to me in a dream and she repeats the same words the ghost of Carl Sandburg tells Sufjan Sevens: even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated are you writing from the heart are you writing from the heart   Even in his heart the devil has to know the water level are you writing from the heart are you writing from the heart

During a music composition lesson in college, my composition professor challenged me to use a set limit of pitches (perhaps six or seven pitches)     I use the amount of pitches but constantly mitigated the limitation through the use of continual metric modulations that stirred stagger mathematical monstrosity     My composition professor remarked that I wrote from the intellectual brain but didn’t write from the passion of the heart

I write towards a totality, with my entire being, even if it embarrasses (heart and soul one will burn)

What does a scanner see?  I mean really see?  Into the head?  Down into the heart?  Does it see into me – into us – clearly or darkly?  I hope it does see clearly because I can’t any longer these days see into myself…

Dark arc ark     Dark arc ark make yourself an ark of cypress wood, make rooms in the ark, and cover it inside and out with pitch

Dark ark arclight watchlight light jacklight light she lights the lights     She lights the lights the bridegroom moves to her     She lights the lights arclight watchlight light jacklight light the tree of life upside down

Dark arc ark art free jazz jam dark     Dark arc art juggler light magician the jams run free     Free flowing point free jazz     Free cool cobweb bridal chamber free jazz / I decide to write simpler songs for everybody to plug in immediately     I write a super song record that contains rockers and ballads (I think you appreciate the creativity and unique voice involved [in the Book] but you don’t always agree with my creative decisions for it.  You think it can be impenetrable and frustratingly opaque.  I think that’s fair, says Asia)

I stretch still dark     I stretch dark stars it’s not dark yet but it’s getting there

Dark dilivium demands ark ale bark archaic book rubbing sparks     Dark demands dilivium delirium: delight and delirium delivers dark     I enter dark ark and dark cave chasm, another deep     Deep desert dark a scanner darkly

I experiment and I improvise the experiments     I improvise the experiments free jazz and avant-garde jazz     I experiment as the distortion and vibration of timbre / wide vibrato visions various dark dirge scourge scalloped hammerhead darkness     I don’t know where the experiments go but I let the word and language lead me and the language loops lamp nonlinear corona-cluster light magic lantern light     I experiment light and dark both direction at once     both directions at once dark dark cloud light     Both directions at once nonlinear ouroboros the paradoxical accessible opaque     I write both directions at once and I let the polyrhythms round ground mellow tone hones sharp bone

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form.  Furthermore, I’d like to play something like the beginning of “Ghosts” – that people can hum

Asia Rhizome appears to me in Desert Dreaming and she screams dream caw caw the crow comes at us     Asia screams caw caw the crow who’s here     Asia bird calls more memory than melody     I mingle melody mangled more melody polymeter disintegration   more melody a scanner darkly      

More modes map arcade missile command haunted hands strange my body gorgon     My body gorguts gorgon no ground     Bodies no ground golgotha: gorgon gethsemane my body seeds a scanner darkly     What does a scanner see: seed slate plow slow dark     Slow dark video cassette system ode to melancholy     Bodies ode to melancholy desiring-machine go not to lethe, neither this wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine…

I hum ghosts     I hum GHOST hammocks body horror     I hum ghosts ghosts BLOODY PIT OF HORROR he lures beautiful women to his torture-chamber and reveled in their agony… He was a homicidal MANIAC WHO KILLED TO KILL

I hum ghosts / space ghost coast to coast Sonny Sharrock guitar noise feedback bloody lightning bolt

What does a scanner see:  GHOSTS     What does a scanner see:  HOLY GHOST bells and prophecies

What does a scanner see: simple mode simple melody

I do not begin my novel at the beginning, I do not reach chapter 3 before I reach chapter 4, I do not dutifully go from one page to the next, in consecutive order: no I pick out a bit here and there, until I have filled the gaps on the paper

I write more melody nonlinear page aporia     Past porous nonlinear aporia     Page porous pulse nonlinear aporia pulse     I break up the pulse plus pulse book books block chord katabasis     Black midi block chord khora katabasis

I do not begin but continue process peacock aporia     Peacock stopped clock complete

I feel myself often lost because the writing becomes labyrinthine nonlinear but Asia Rhizome appears to me in dreams:  more refrains, more choruses, more melody     I return to my melody unmetered free time: time turn tack Taryn time turn Taryn thumbscrew screwdriver

What does a scanner see: not a beginning but nonlinear dark and nonlinear desert     Nonlinear desert delights the light magma light molten polymeters / metered polytheism tantric tonic

What does a scanner see: darker gnosis the tree of knowledge upside down     I see into me darkly     I see me dark body a bizarre song     Bizarre bazaar song bisexual: song gong gone the gluts of gallows     Glut gut gallows microflora fire


Conversations with Asia Rhizome 06/22/2020 4:37 AM

I talked to one of my aunts again the other day, says Asia, and this conversation went better but I still don’t really agree with them, and at one point we talked about my dad, and my aunt was saying my dad was passive and didn’t establish structure for my little sibling... She said she was scared that would happen with me and my partner and that I would be the only parent establishing discipline.  She doesn’t know my partner, so I have no idea where she got this idea from.  Is he abrasive as me?  No, not really, but if he was we would fight all the time.  That doesn't mean that he is passive.. It still boggles my mind that she came to the conclusion “He isn't a Christian!  His home will be anarchy and Asia will have to do everything!” says Asia.


I play too passive to Christianity; I do not discipline Christianity to the degree necessary     I must dominate Christianity and tie elaborate knots stations of the cross kinbaku     I write Christianity too passively: I must act on Christianity as additive or attacking rhythm, the aggressive rhythms of Olivier Messiaen’s Turangulila-Symphonie

I act aggressive not passive but passions for stations of the cross

I belong not to Christianity but I amplify anarchy     I add anarchy to anarchy air axle aether     I interpret anarchy as luminiferous aether she lights the lights     Aether she lights the lights amen cadence dark amen

Anarchy acme atom bomb new     Anarchy arco thump col legno     Anarchy arco abrasive additive rhythm rockin’ robin

Anarchy as absurd as the cross     Anarchy absurd crucifixion     Anarchic against contra christ my body: body book black through a scanner darkly

A polite warning: this house is not a home!  HOUSE OF CRAZIES   The hot-blooded beauty in the cold freezer   Look at the leg that creeps – but there’s not body   It’s not easy breathing in a paper bag… especially if you’re only a head   The doctor makes his last call   Just look at the way they’re dying… in the living room   See the little metal man and his big knife

Body house hell crucifixion     Body house body horror house     Body house house horses houses body horror     An anarchic house sandpaper abrasions     Sandpaper sandpiper abrasive against body anarchic     I do not abandon anarchy but let the anarchic appropriate satiate itself complete to the skeleton

And he said, whoever finds the interpretation of these sayings will not experience death

I interpret I improvise     I interpret improvisation icon iotas     I interpret anarchic ice imp ink ions     I interpret abrasive improvisation harsh noise wall word     Word more modal between modes wide timbre tinted noise

I hope it does see clearly because I can't any longer see these days see into myself: I see murk.  Murk inside, murk outside

Murk as machine: murk machine mass     Mass murk machine molasses: molasses inside, molasses outside     Outside another murk / machine a system of interrupts and breaks     These are the breaks break it up break it up break it up     Every machine murks machine the continual flows that it cuts into onto other     Onto murk other murk minor mass     Murk musk mollusk moloch: moloch fire human mass     Human modal fire flint modal

Murk marriage of heaven and hell hyle     Hyle hits high hyle a ham-slicing machine removing portions from the associative low

A scanner darkly: dense dark and dusk dark     I detect dark desiring-machine murk     Murk swap meet polymeter polymeter moloch     Murk the mourning dove gets caught in a telephone wire     Murk drive through the streets as gunshots punctuate the night the sides we take divide from our faith / my faith enfleshes murk     My faith foes phantom murk and murk phantom     Murk phantom muddles mud / phantom of the opera open masquerade     Phantom of paradise rock n’ roll plagal cadence camp     Plagal cadence notes on camp the horror as camp jellyjam

Murk matter paintings     Murk matte black mason jar     Mason jar jazz preserves / she’s a jam with a heavy lid my pop quiz kid

Mall sprawl murk     Murk maybe mixed media mellow pigments / my body a scanner darkly desaturated     Desaturated desert camera cocaine cacophony

Murk inside: murk outside     Murk microcosm macrocosm

Murk hat hut records hamartia

Murk earth urgent aether

Sometimes all I write is murk     The Book appears opaque to me: murk inside, murk outside     I see nothing     I write nothing the noun states accent on air     Book shrouds my brain brine branes / absurd jellyfish flatulence

Dark Drones Cosmic Dark Bodies

Ten-in-One human oddity outside playing / side-slipping and side-stepping spiral staircase exquisite corpse My corpse encases my corpse screwtape sausages My corpse cane cap sun grey glass corpses

Mutant magnavox odyssey

Ten-in-One human oddity autonomous automobiles (adventurous automobiles automobile andromeda) Accelerating auditorium autonomous automobile mutant magnavox odyssey Human oddity paranoia (strange how paranoia) (strange how paranoia can link up with reality now and then)

Human oddities other than this other a scanner darkly

Haunted scanner scanner homology what does a scanner see

Haunted homology scanner logia logoi lifted light a scanner sees Light scanner haunted light lime blind (Can a girl in the lingerie racket keep her decency even while she sheds her clothes? LIMITED LTD A bold brilliant book pitilessly revealing the strange temptations besettling two attractive career girls in a business without scruples!)

I laugh lingerie Light I laugh lingerie lights off what does a scanner see Lingerie for now we sit thorough a glass darkly then face to face naked

I cut scanner and I collage SOMETHING ELSE!!! and SOMETHING DIFFERENT!!!!! Scanner scatters light dark lingerie Scanner scavenges soda ash / ben bones mimic sodium bicarbonate

What does a scanner see? He asked himself. I mean, really see? Into the head? Down into the heart?

And he said: He who shall find the interpretation of these words shall not taste death

Death scans my body dense Death dresses my body light lingerie then darker body bone black ash Bone black quaking aspen Bone black live oak live oak oh baby let your zylum float

Death draws a raven like a writing desk Death duels death dual the very dream Death duets with dice a throw of the dice will never abolish chance Death dual numbers a hypercomplex number system system shock (enter that room, insect, and it will become your grave)

Death desert gospel: Death catacomb Christianity

Death desert duet drop desert Death desert dusk dyad desert

Digital death digital desert

My body death drags long black: long black balrog desert My body black death bass bubonic boxing My body boxer-punchers black death desert drag / drag hag triplets a scanner darkly

ben body dark drives different dragsters / hot rod a scanner darkly

ben body dark driller killer downtown music I cut minimal Christian hymns I cut minimal star stone: stone locusts Christian hymns (a hymn is the praise of God with song; a song is the exultation of the mind dwelling on eternal things, bursting forth in voice)

Hymns haunt salt psalms: celery salt skeleton key banishing circles Circles saturate circles a scanner darkly / when we saw paris in flames

Experiment something else: experiment something different no difference between this notebook and that notebook but Book rings bells body process Cut later or don’t cut at all: leave it all in embarrassing naked naked nonsense

My voice BELLS bodies My voice BELLS bodies the ensemble not yet formed into a cohesive balanced whole but a rickety patchwork, its seams (and therefore process) showing proudly through

A scanner darkly a scanner darkly

A scanner darkly a scanner darkly doubled desert

I depend on desert

ben body desert dressed desert barren black: black stone solar barge various resurrections of Sun Ra

In vision, John Coltrane and Sun Ra play Arkestra Ancient of Ancients, and Sabbatai Sevi dances before the Ark of the Covenant

Desert necessarily determines experiment / aleatoric a scanner darkly Alpha and Omega a scanner darkly: alpha a scanner darkly omega

Desert deconstructs desert apophatic experiment alpha and omega

The recordings show Albert Ayler using a modular approach to his music, with thematic sections that can be reshuffled interspersed with improvisation

I imagine my writing as similarly modular or even mimicking a modular arithmetic: Book cyclotomic body time, with repeated interjections and refrains of the Nag Hammadi Library, the Christian bible, and snippets of musical biographies and techniques Texts interleaved with texts myth mathematics I continue the experiment and improvisation: if I stop experimenting, I die If I stop improvising, I die

An orgy of death was their ultimate love! VAMPIRE LOVERS

Death drink distance: desert bodies ben Desert bodies ben doubled bodies buried death: death dumbo pink elephants on parade Sun Ra improvises pink elements on parade and the batman theme song

Orgy death antipode ozone: ozone ozarks ouroboros Orgy against wheel death crib chariot death dolphin dance Orgy death backdoor turnaround altered dominants Orgy organic chemistry clotho cut apocalypse Vampire apocalypse sunlight Sun Ra / ash blood and rivers

Ayler was the type of person who wouldn’t say, I want this, or I want that. He’d just say, Play! Fill it up with sound!

Fill it up with sound a scanner darkly a scanner darkly

Sound flesh a fervent tarot skull terror vampire lovers

Sound flesh flash with my flesh black iron prison

Black iron prison gospel of thomas Black iron prison gospel of thomas taryn taller tetragrammaton Thomas Taryn the Twin: whoever penetrates the meaning of these words will not taste death

I write with and without death: I write with and without meaning Wheezy Waiter used to make videos every weekday and during that time, the whole point of his YouTube videos was pointlessness: making anything as long as he made a video Similarly, I need tow rite less meaning I need to write less meaning and even no meaning but write pure writing pure cinema: documentation of the play of language Language plays further language, language flush to my flesh Languages flush to my flesh fill it up with sound

Black iron prison gospel of thomas / you will follow the book whose every page is an abyss where the wing shines with the name

What does a scanner see? He asked himself. I mean really see. Into the head? Down into the heart? Does a passive infrared scanner – like they used to use or a cube-type halo-scanner – like they use these days, the latest thing, see into me – into us – clearly or darkly?

Darkling! I smell you’re blood. You’re a vampire.

Darkling I listen and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful death

So to darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing

I prefer the dark I prefer dark because the dark drones cosmic Dark drones cosmic dark bodies ben a son of man I prefer dark and I work night shift shifted sand book of sand I prefer dark and I prefer desert marriage of heaven and hell heterodynes Heterodyne desert Taryn tartini tones Nonlinear inner ear eye erosion

Down into the heart dark down heart hearth black bell heat Black bell body blue blobs Blue bells blue blobs bodies swallowed to bone Bone boat blue bells head heart hearth Bone bell bodies head heart hearth heterodyne the marriage of heaven and hell

I find a conversation with Asia dated 08/25/2021 7:24 AM, about 2.5 years ago

It is difficult to give up a toxic god, I say. Why is it difficult? I’m a bad person, maybe. A toxic God is better than no God. Why do you think you deserve a bad god? says Asia. Because I am bad. I don’t know if God is bad. God is painful. Isn’t there just one god? Yes, it’s a painful and wounding God. If that’s the case, then fuck god, says Asia. You don’t deserve to suffer. You aren’t god’s play thing. I’m a prophet of God. Of course I’m god’s play thing. No, you aren’t. I feel like a play thing. I feel I don’t have a choice. Fuck God but then God fucks me, I say. You are going to have to reach a place where you believe that you deserve better, says Asia. Even if it means that you live on spite for a little bit. I don’t know if I do deserve better. Everyone does, she says. Learn to love yourself. Start there. How do I love myself when I am not worthy of love? I just think prophets are meant to be treated like dirt by God. I’m officially pro you giving up prophecy, says Asia. Honestly, I think it’s a title you purposefully stepped into so you can justify why you think you deserve to suffer. I don’t think life has any meaning if I am not a prophet, I say. If that’s how you thin, that’s how it will be, says Asia. You are the one holding the pen, you are the one that gets to assign meaning. I want to say meaning ultimately resides with God but I don't know if that means anything either, I say. Bullshit, says Asia. You are deflecting responsibility. Plus, you are the one interpreting scripture. You interpret god. If that’s the case, then there is no hope for me. And why the fuck is that? says Asia. You are in control here, she says.

I do not prophesy for the Christian god or the Jesus of the Christian gospels: I prophesy something unknown I prophesy from unknown, between unknown, and to an unknown This new prophecy remains unknown even to me and I approximate apophatic multiple deaths and resurrections of the gods Thomas Altizer writes: Theology was born out of faith’s will to enter history; now theology must die at the hands of a faith that is strong enough to shatter history…

I enter into faith on and contra Christian history, a Christianity embedded not in the Kingdom of God, but in an always-already occurring eschaton and a never-occurring eschaton / simultaneous christian hauntologies

I cut this and do something different Writing Christianity proves difficult: it feels too close, too comfortable, a strange anti-experimental self-annihilation What Asia said: Christianity and the title of prophet becomes an attempt to justify my self-inflicted self-destruction suicides station station many Christianities the empire never ended Therefore, I engage in a bodily hermeneutics and rhizomic asia prophetic pulse with Christianities through a scanner darkly

I write clumsy Christianity I write ben bog body laden lead led zeppelin…

I still have difficulty loving my self If I do not write – if I don’t do the creative work – then I do not give myself love and kindness I cannot write enough and make enough creative work to quench that knot negative body I have replaced one abusive god for another abusive god but I devour the god through the body written

I write dark darker: ben brain denser black bakes bone a scanner darkly

On this idea of getting up and moving on but I wait around, just emptying bottles in the basement of the Slovaj center of my side of town

I feel messy dark and I feel fell disaster I hide in the slits some slate a scanner darkly (I’ve got my back to the sun because the light is too intense) Ten-in-One dark I undress my gods nude

I Write And Rewrite Radio Rewrite

I only write with blood     I only write with my blood then my blood mixed blood     My blood mixed lydian then mixolydian mode     My blood among modes book fire fanfares    Fires fanfare ferocious orange then denser red     I read the ornate orange and outrageous orange as Francis Bacon’s 1944 triptych Three Studies For Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion 1944

I admit Christian hymns haunt me various crucifixion figures

Crucifixion San Francisco cable cars     Fly-by-wire the whip and the body bound stations of the cross

Christian hymns as hemiolas / surgical saw slapstick amputations     Annotated alice amputations     Meridians cut modal body bishop hopping     Stochastic crucifixion

I return room     I return room round sound red: redder bone radiation     Bone as riddle     Bone as stone sphinx and stone skeleton     Esoteric exoskeletons: skeletons stained red red stained glass soda as non-crystallized amorphous solids

I sing bone as bloody book and I hem hell and hymn together     I hew red room slow tomb plow aporia and hell sings rings     Hell sings intermingled rings rowboat rhizome     Hymns hell noxious nostalgia home home on the range hangs red: red hour hangman     Red hourglass ghost hummingbird     Hourglass body horror marginalia: my blood leaks into the margins     My blood leaches heterotopia tangent topos Taryn Tiamat

Hymns as hauntologies     Hymns as hauntologies abide with me falls fast the eventide     The darkness deeps Lord with me abide

I abide anarchy     I abide anarchic miles ahead     I abide anarchic dark always desert matrices     Ahead, desert     Desert diagonal voices     Desert dead internet theory     Charismatic eschaton: pentecostal conspiracies

Anarchic compartment syndrome apartment

Anglerfish angels: devilfish roundaries frequent my apartment fire

An anarchic red     Red ribosome radishes     Porous protein aporia     Absurd apartment war of attrition

Ten-in-One two rooms joined by the same colors including blood red carpets and drapes and white pillows and white dresses     I reread the Wallace Stevens poem Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock and it reminds me of rooms and circuses jointed red     Red circus saguaro cactus my body barrel cactus barrel organ bales houses haunted by white nightgowns

White light word     White light nightgown word     White light night light word     Word wolves word nachtmusic nightgowns

I remember the room and I write the room more room and wore red

I rewrite the room real red red wasp and red orchid as heterogeneous elements rags rhizome     Red room Steve Reich’s Radio Rewrite (I dislike Radio Rewrite because it bores me: it’s a piece that feels like it never goes anywhere      I revisit radio rewrite various red rooms more red masque of red death and I live a different horror and boredom)

Steve Reich writes the following about Radio Rewrite:  It was not my intention to make anything like ‘variations’ on these songs, but rather to draw on their harmonies and sometimes melodic fragments and work them into my piece… As to actually hearing the original songs, the truth is – sometimes you hear them and sometimes you don’t.

I write and rewrite texts     Unlike Steve Reich, I lack any original ideas     I only use the techniques of plagiarism, appropriation, parody, and homage: I lack any substance on my own merits     I write because I have no choice but to write: if I do not write, I die     I survive to write and I write in stealing and rewriting texts     I rewrite radio rewrite     I rewrite radio rewrite and its rhizome sprawls camouflaged zebra

I accumulate texts and collect texts to such a profuse degree that I often feel paralyzed at which text to use next     I attempt a more fluid and free improvisation in approach to texts     I attempt a textual multiplicity and community     I rewrite spontaneous music ensemble

(Saxophonist Evan Parker observed that [John] Stevens had two basic rules: (1) If You can’t hear another musician, you’re playing too loud, and (2) if the music you're producing doesn't regularly relate to what you’re hearing others crate, why be in the group?  This led to the development of what would jocularly become known as “insect improv” – music that tended to be very quiet, very intense, arrhythmic, and by and large atonal)

I rewrite spontaneous music ensemble radio rewrite but I make the loud RED     red LOUD ROOM hasty homing missiles

I do not rest radio but wraith red: ten reds and one red, rich body pigment     Whip and body pigment my body mannerist tenebroso

Fragments ringlets horseshoe crab retrograde canons     Canon cobweb radio rewrite     Radio rewrite rewrite non-narrative film     Red film loud flesh / the window is open between the street and concert hall

I relisten to Radio Rewrite and it doesn’t sound as boring as I remember: it does sound like five or six other pieces Reich has written since Triple Quartet though    I also recycle my texts and themes over and over again: I think I feel more sympathetic to Radio Rewrite because I too explore every possibility of the same four chord cycle

Ten-in-One outsources orthodoxy heterodox eyes eye heterotopia atonic eye orgasms     Ten-in-One open eye alligator and hippopotamus / long day’s journey into night     A little night music texana axe murders blood music / blood rooms occupied by women in white     Women white night gowns glass green / purple with green rings or green and allow rings or yellow with blue rings     Blue glass glowing bodies: my bne body son of man with knives

Anarchy azure     Azure eden anarchy     Alchemical anarchy gradually engulfed in crimson

Every once in awhile I’m blown away by how sweet my students can be, says Asia.  The kid’s are alright.  Today my chair got moved and a student took it before I could get to it.  This wasn’t their fault: my chair wasn’t at my desk so they weren’t intentionally trying to take my chair so I sat down on the floor and my coworker gave me a weird look and I said “I don’t have a chair”.  One of my kids immediately gave me their chair.  Then a couple of the boys stayed behind during lunch, I gave them some cookies and then the last boy asked if he could have one and I offered it to him saying “it’s the last one”.  HE SPLIT IT IN HALF and he gave me the other half, says Asia.

Asia teaches me to be a better writer     Asia teaches me to be a better person     She’s an awesome person and she’s one of my best friends     I admit to a certain kind of sentimental basic boredom writing Asia but I love her unconditionally; she loves and cares for me unconditionally too (I’ve told you before how I feel and I told you before I won’t be the one to end it, says Asia.  So if you still feel this way later, then you have to be the one to end it.  Give yourself some time.  I have enjoyed this friendship and will continue to enjoy it if you decide to stay.  I still care for you unconditionally and will continue to do so, says Asia)     The writing teaches me that Asia teaches me

Ten-in-One two rooms joined by the same colors, including blood red carpets and drapes and white pillows and white dresses (BLONDES IN RED BONDAGE   Tortured!  Brainwashed!  Enslaved!  I will say spy for them or kill, one girl said, even after being freed, I will do anything they tell me)  

Blonde red     Room red blonde

Blonde ram red red     Red blood book bondage

Ten-in-One fades in and fades out outer darkness red     Ten-in-One fades in and fades out more saturated reds red to white to red with blue with black to orange and ochre / She holds a red book against her dress     Red book menstruation and castration

These are the secret sayings which the Living Jesus spoke and which Judas, who is also Thomas, wrote down

I say secret red and secret room: blonde red room improvisation     I say secret dream of baboons and periwinkles / secret rewrite jigsaw pieces falling into place

(The piece absorbs only a handful of gestures from the songs into an otherwise familiar compositional framework     Much-hyped allusions are fleeting)

I feel an intense tension between refrain and repetition against new and novel exploration     I never can strike the right balance     I flash with cliches and self-parody     Ornette Coleman said in an interview with Jacques Derrida:  Like when I was doing free jazz, most people thought I just picked up the saxophone and played whatever was going through my head, without following any rule, but that wasn't true, says Coleman.

I write so I may learn how to write     I learn to write through exploration and repetition / pluralism = monism

I want to write like Morton Feldman, where my practice of copying texts over and over again produces cohesive patterns in a chromatic field

Ten-in-One copies calderas, a mirrored magma surface     Magma doubles menstruation, a gospel ministry by blood     Ten-in-One hums bloody hymns day by day I view thy wondrous cross on calvary     Lord, day by day I view thy wondrous cross on calvary, and day by day I stretch my hands thereon and die with thee (Each a higher degree in terror!  SPLATTER UNIVERSITY where the school colors are blood red)

Ten-in-One oozes open wound wind-up toy     Ten-in-One teenage mutant ninja turtles II the secret of the ooze     Ten-in-One oozes open bionic limbs low ladder fall accidents / my brain fades in and fades out more red saturation     My brain fuses red bar bear rum great american bash

Ten-in-One human oddities oval eye open hook     Human oddities ten-in-one tenor saxophone overture    Haunted house hemiola (the vigorously effective scherzo in ¾ time but with a curiously consistent cross-rhythm that does its best to persuade us it is really in 6/8)

Ten-in-One human oddity outside playing / side-slipping and side-stepping spiral staircase exquisite     Ten cuts odd rhythm experiment     I experiment ten  a river is many single things going to almost the same place at almost the same time     I try experiment something else something different and my pulse gradually disintegrated into blurred heterophony

I write out then red     I write out odd experiment textures without time (I very much like to maintain the flexibility of sound structures, as one would try to draw on water)     I write out other outer darkness / dense red rhizome

I write ten cut one out then red     Red rivers immediate room other apple orchard     Apple orchard rose garden gabapentin gabba gabba hey

I break up the pulse into more irregular beats through Asia conversations

I bit Basil yesterday, says Asia.  She bites sweater sleeves so I bit her back.  What was her reaction?  Also that’s a pure Asia thing to do.  You’re feral.  She was shocked, says Asia.  Confused.  I pretend to act feral to my daughter.  She loves it.  How do you act feral?  She slowly extends a tiny finger towards me and when she’s almost touching me, I growl and pretend to bite her, says Asia.

Body bites ben bone out     Book bites en son of man bone red: Jacob Frank into Edom     book bites bone blod human one: human one ten-in-one cut human     Book cut human bone ben bark cannibal Book

Book plays bite of 83 repeats cassette tape / tape tampered then tempered with human bone     I boil the tape loops in my blood     My blood breaks up the pulse

Theme To Theme Through Silver In Blood

The Asia and writing stuff is entangled, I say, because I’m trying to write for Asia, I say.  I think there’s a problem with writing for a human, says Christina.  If you write for a human who isn’t you, there will necessarily be differences in taste.  You’re setting an impossible goal for yourself, says C.  That's true but I need help to get better.  How do I get better if I don't write for someone?  I wrote for you for a long time.  I’m sure that didn’t make you better! says C.  I never respond.  You need to write for a higher purpose.  Christina is not a higher purpose?  No, definitely not.  I don’t think Asia is either.

The hidden saying, that the savior spoke to Judas Thomas, which I, Mathaias, in turn recorded.  I was walking, listening to them speak with each other.

Hidden sayings serpent     Hidden sayings saturn slip straw dogs dog din desert     din dog desert da’at detour decoupage coupled couplet capulet and montague

Hidden     Hidden I have often suspected wave functions     Hidden ben a son of man and a son of soil hidden, I open the soil and a son, and its vineyard yields hermetic homunculus

I attempt to uncover hidden speech: my speech written in wheels and waters     I awake water mixed with soil and sun concentrates its kaleidoscope khora incomplete concrete

I attempt an attempt Son of Man Alpha and Omega and the Human One hides trapdoor spider sprawled all in the Book

Christianities and gods gruppen haunt hidden sayings this Book of Wheels and serpents / organic chemistry ouroboros

How would you evaluate this? I ask Asia.  

The Book means THE JOY OF LANGUAGE     The book means THE PLAY OF LANGUAGE     The Book means IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD     The Book means LOGOS SHE LIGHTS THE LIGHTS     The Book means KRYSXTRYN + ASIA RHIZOME DIVINE LANGUAGE…

I also found this past message from the past month:  “The meaning of the Book is me having relationship with others, and the relationships make god events happen”.  Yeah, I don’t disagree with any of that, says Asia.  Do you think that’s a higher purpose or do I need to find something higher up? I say.  Seems like a pretty good high purpose to me, says Asia, and at the very least it will give you something to focus on for now and you can always change the purpose later, she says.

Ten-in-One Tent     Ten-in-One Tabernacle     Tabernacle shining blank scars burn way down     I scratch scar stars sheets of sound book slates / similar sheet slates snakes     Snakes my body burns Son of Man: Son of Man down desert doom

Tabernacle shrine of the silver monkey shines skeleton crew crow burnings

Tabernacle parts ways with the serpent view   cast stones where to stop calling you     Stone sun calls me: sun stone calls me churchyard     Sun stone sundress calls me to human sacrifices the Christian churchyard (Lust ruled supreme in their orgy world!  SHAME CULT)

Ten-in-One Gospel of Thrones: these the secret words   these the obscure sayings   here the secret words   these the secret sayings     Gospel of Thomas travels Son of man through silver in blood     Ten-in-One thrown silver in blood we stand not judged by eyes of flesh     My flesh flows fears no window but I fear death by water     My flesh flashes eye fire then earnest fire a fanning out of the dark forest     Forest midway dark through my life     My flesh flows tree of life and tree of knowledge of good and evil: tree of life upside down

Ten-in-One tents through silver in blood we stand not judged by eyes of flesh     When transit times cross prey vision consumed     Ten serpents swallow my flesh ben bites son of man     Serpents swallow my body bloats swollen liver nonlinear serpents     Nonlinear ten-in-one serpents sweep flesh: flexible flesh as flash     Serpents pour sulfur into flesh flash and my body boils soil     My body boils down down floats soup secret saying and the Christ appears to me as encrypted dream     Shoegaze dream god brighten blood

God events? says C.  So I was telling Asia about a theologian and philosopher named John D. Caputo, I say.  His work is based on Jacques Derrida.  He says God is not a being but an event, the event of the unconditional call to the unconditional love and hospitality that occurs in the name of God.  I was thinking of how my friendships with the women in my life call us to that unconditional that sometimes goes by the name of god, I say.  I love it, says Christina.  In my own life, the Book has prompted “God Events” says C.  When I write Christina I think I also write the god event and god name with the relationship of the Kindred.  Even if God doesn't exist the Kindred still calls us to the unconditional, to the greater love and demands of the wholly other, I say.  Definitely a good start from my perspective, says C.  I think it leaves room for not requiring any one person's approval to be meaningful or to achieve the purpose, she says.

Ten-in-One sideshow tabernacle taps windstorm promised the teeth   strained eyes see glory     Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord     Strained eyes earth imitative polyphony / counterpoint aporias (and when the farmer awoke the next morning, all the seeds from his field were once again in their sacks)

The teeth strained eyes edits and my eyes edit teeth excess     Teeth excess sideshow exegesis     Exegesis swallows exegesis of Philip K. Dick eyes of archons

Teeth attack attacca attica attica

The teeth eyes strained imitate earth son of man son of soil and my vineyard bares the graveyard     Teeth eyes slice sideshows / ten-in-one teeth eyes

Ten-in-One rings end in slow death   wash out your wounds rings end in slow death     My death tangles serpents / their naked bodies writhed in terror as they screamed again and again in the slaughterhouse

Rings end in slow death substance D then teeth a scanner darkly

Rings in slow death an aporia polynomial rings     Polynomial polymath imitative earth polyphony

Sideshow ringworms     Ten-in-One ouroboros parasites     Parasite serpents with passions for the Cross     Cross circus short circuit serpents     I cut rings into my cranium heavy metals     Metal machine body lead gold silver: distressed serpents     Sow death distressed desert     Desert I’m back to speaking in tongues

Ten-in-One sideshow locust star / don’t crawl seek his burn of war when the fall out comes he is fire (I recall the first time listening to the Neurosis album Through Silver In Blood     I first learned of the record through the Deftones message board, with a user promulgating its extreme beauty and ugliness, greater than any other album they heard     I downloaded the title track, Aeon, and Locust Star through Napter on a 56k Modem and it took hours to download the longer songs     The record destroyed my brain and I eventually bought it and their 1999 record Times Of Grace at a local record store     Through Silver In Blood’s sometimes opaque lyrics influenced my own oblique poetic explorations     I need more through silver in blood: I need more hauntological apocalypse topological haunted apocalypse aporia eschaton)

Dawn in the black forest: rebirth out of apocalypse

My skull as sideshow swims ten-in-one ouroboros swallows earth

My skull sideshow scrapes ten-in-one scraps my body threshold     My body swells body threshing floor     I winnow barley tonight at the threshing floor and the woman in my window gazes eyes of god     Eyes islands liminal body basking shark black     I wash and anoint myself and I put on my best clothes and go down to the threshing floor     My body threshes thresher shark thrash metal and the mixed multitudes surround my bodies sacred scapegoat violence (how long does it take a razor sharp knife to slice… FROM EAR TO EAR)

Ten-in-One tabernacle tastes tenor saxophone     Tall tent revives tenor saxophone multiphonics / a ghostly mixture of marches and folk melodies

Albert Ayler leads the band from theme to theme with melodic cues on his horn, though he often lets Don take over the melody in order that hey may ad lib counterpoint

Theme to theme: tenor saxophone     Theme to theme: ten-in-one tenor saxophone multiphonics     I write theme to theme as long Coltrane tenor saxophone solos: Coltrane’s tenor solo on One Up One Down at the Half Note in 1965    I write theme to theme as long Coltrane soprano saxophone solo: Coltrane's second soprano saxophone solo on Afro-Blue on Live In Japan in 1966     I write the long solo theme to theme a thicker line     I thicken the line palm muted power chords then free funk harmolodics     Theme to theme a thicker line then lines nonlinear micropolyphony     My flesh multiphonics micropolyphony


Conversations With Asia 06/17/2020 3:47 AM

I’m having a hard time balancing writing and research, I say.  Research one day, write the next, says Asia.  Very pragmatic.  Maybe write a little free form summary at the end of every research session, she says.


I still have trouble balancing research and my writing but my solution has been to write and rewrite the research     I treat the research as another text, text theme to text theme     Theme to theme throne of god / kavod khora compact stations of the cross     I write the research to understand the research: however, because I feel compelled to write through and transmute the research, it takes me much longer to read any text and I rarely finish texts    I find I do not read texts for reading pleasure, but I always read to find languages to steal for the Book

Theme to theme truth is marching in and infinite spirit

Muted sound but multiphonics, a sort of fearless tenor flesh     Flesh sounds surreptitious time tine ship tender tenor saxophone multiphonics

Muted sound machine pistons and cylinders     My muted sound scrambles all the codes and transmits decoded flows of desire: I desire desert sound     Desert sound resembles assemblages or event echoes     Event echo rode possible alternate reality games (note to self: research transmedia, multimedia, alternate reality games)

Sound sings a little     Sound sings broken chords sing a little

Ten-in-One oracles ouroboros odyssey     Ten-in-One overdo opioids oblong orchids     Ten-in-One original overdo original outlay: overlay axelay oxygen outlet     Ten-in-One ocular orgasms an open eye / long day’s journey into night     Long night a tenor saxophone night music (red rooms occupied by women in white, the azure, edenic images of the start gradually engulfed by crimson)

Break up the beat over the field / sound ten-in-one     I break up the pulse interrupted by the chamber ensemble: chambered ensemble chambered seashell spirals     I split the spiral against the pulse polyrhythm platypus     I split the spiral as pulsing sprawl, pulse play pornography (HOT SUMMER IN BAREFOOT COUNTY   The county girls that keep the home fires burning…!  Hot rods… Hot lips and white lightning)

Here are the secret words which Jesus the Living spoke and which were transcribed by Didymus Thomas

I search secret words and secret language     I search secret language lantern language and logos language     Language logia she lights the lights rhema     Rhema residue rhizome other ben bodies (the orchid deterritorialized by forming an image, a tracking of a wasp, but the wasp reterritoralizes that image) (Overt open eye oblong orchids)

Search olive oil serpent: serpent secrets snow     Serpent secretes spiral snow similar ice     Ice plows orthogonal to my body: orthogonal orchids perpendicular snow     clean snow cuts my bodies into paper spiral serpents     Clean snow scissors my body into hexagonal snowflakes     Snowflakes flesh flows clean snow / my bodies play snow angels then don’t eat the yellow snow

Secret snow and hidden snow     I have often suspected that there may be in the air some yet more latent qualities or powers different enough from all these, and principally due to the substantial pairs or ingredient, where of it consists     Secret snow and hidden snow     Graceful glacier gods madden the airs     I oracle mad proto-indo-european sky gods and the airs compact piledriver glaciers     Air alchemys glacier philosophy stones every stone an icicle hammered into my eye     My eye imprints ink pad oxen stamped     I air oracle and my eyes project prophetic overlays ten-in-one (hot rods and hot lips)

Red rooms occupied by women in white reverb secret word and hidden sayings     Red room reverberates mystic rose like a rose among thorns so my beloved among maidens

Red room ricochets mystic roses my love like a red red rose newly sprung in june     I jazz june sprung rhythm / pulse relayed red rooms     Red room rarefied air condensed rubies   air condensed rabbit ears   ear nose throat tachyon rabbits

Red room listens to Taylor Swift My Tears Ricochet 

Krystal says it’s weird my trash can is here in the middle.  Thoughts?  Krystal says, make sure Christina knows that’s where it lives, that’s where it stays.  Is it always there? says Christina.  Yeah, it’s funny!  I think most people put their trashcans out of the way.  That location wouldn’t work for my house because Fox runs from one side of the room to the other constantly.  ALL the furniture regularly pushed to the ides of the walls.  You don’t walk into it at night? Says C.  No, I’m not here at night.  Krystal is making fun of me so hard right now for it.  If we were all in the same room we would be roasting you, says C.  Like… for a long time.  Dang you guys are harsh.  It’s just easy prey, says C.  And it’s not like it means you're stupid or something.  It’s just curious.  And funny! says Christina.

My room rampaged red     My room rampages mad red air     Air impacts my bodies luminiferous aether / aether drags against my body invisible violet stained glass

My room ransacks red and the trash can cannibalizes PKD’s trash layer (The resemblance of Runciter’s communicating with the people via the trash of the gutter, the debris such as folders, the labels of spray cans, etc…)     I love debris: I love debris dusk desert and my hands communicate pornographic gestures (The lustful story of a woman searching for forbidden thrills!  LOVE-STARVED HELL-CAT)     I tune the trash as skeleton marimba and my mallets make melody out of mulch and manure     I temper trash into a sidewider orichalum ouroboros and the circles air strange snows     Secret snows strum hidden air and aether

Summer snow selves secret air     For this is not as many imagine a simple and elementary body, but a confused aggregate of effluviums from such differing bodies, that, though they all agree in constituting one great mass of fluid matter, yet perhaps there is scarce a more heterogeneous body in the world     Summer snow selves secret air and air carves music is the healing force of the universe

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form

Like Albert Ayler, I try to get more form the free form: I want the both directions at once     I want the both directions at once ten-in-one oracles and orchid     Ten-in-One The Zombies Odessey and Oracle     I float the form flattened onkyo and I improvise a wide reverberation round sound red room     Round sound red room mellows women dressed in white

Mixolydian mode more matterhorn     matterhorn horns of the altar bright blood red: red sun red room

Red room through silver in blood blurred     Locust star stir trash layer aeons and archons     Red sun red room archon secret air aeon

Write Badly

I feel paralyzed by my writing process: I stumble over and behind the writing, but less and less often into and onto the writing     Part of the paralysis: I have so much raw material and too much raw material and so much to write     So much write: I want to write everything and I do write everything but how much more everything I need to write!     I feel overwhelmed and I feel finally the crashing simultaneity of all these myths and narratives here now crash me     Car crash smash burgers bloated barfire decay     Book decays juggler disaster atom bomb fuck FUCK     I find some success in expression – the sort of inspired spontaneous expression I search for other – in freer writing and brainstorming in my open notebooks     My brain blocks up my brain cuban missile crisis blockade writing this “main” notebook, but the divisions between notebooks exists only as something imaginary in my head     I tell myself over and over again: cease being precious with any page or any notebook or even any medium and just WRITE and CREATE     WRITE and CREATE even without the critique of Asia in the moment if you have to – let her critique it after and you can learn accordingly but in the moment CREATE     Splatter this shit everywhere and everywhen and figure out what the fuck it means later

I recall the letter Sol Lewitt wrote to Eva Hesse:  “Do more.  More nonsensical, more crazy, more machines, more breasts, penises, cunts, whatever – make them abound with nonsense…”     I think one reason his letter still resonates: the advice is practical and anyone can do the advice     Anyone can DO something – anything – including nonsense, pornography, bad shit     I make a lot of bad shit and I have to stop connecting it with my overall ability as a writer and worth as a person – Asia unconditionally loves and cares for me even if I’m a bad writer     She of course doesn’t think I write badly – she even thinks I write good, but also knows I can write better     Write badly     But remember: churning out shit is an essential part of that process     Turmoil, doubt, and frustration are part of that process     Don’t let stop you from making and writing keep making and writing even if it’s bad and make the bad transparent and part of the process

I write naked ugly     I write naked ugly my body grotesque carnival and I learn to accept the absurd nonsense of my flesh     I accept and produce my nonsense cock and absurd asshole     I go back to the room and write

The question of: How does this line relate to any other line and how does any stanza relate to any other stanza (I have given into calling them stanzas rather than paragraphs) and how does any page relate to any other page     It relates through rhizome refrain, rhizomic repetition, rhizomic rupture (There is a rupture in the rhizome whenever sedimentary lines explode into a light of flight, but the lien of flight is part of the rhizome)     Rhizome refrain rhizome repetition rhizome rupture rupture rhizome

Ten-in-One Taryn tenebroso / my extracted cranium cooks part of the candlelight tradition     Ten-in-One stun gun bull run blind bastard other my other body in sections intense tents     Ten-in-One punctures my blood-brain barrier a permeable pigment that fucks my intercranial pressure

One orbits anything     Ten-in-One orbits anything     I am the Alpha and Omega     Orbit ten-in-one alpha and omega ordinary language philosophy     Ten-in-One terra bella haunted horses / my childhood hauntology hauntology hauntologies my brain hugged by hyssop

I feel I fail the writing     I rewrite the rupture and rapture     I rewrite rewrite rhizome rewrite: I write redder river transparent     Transparent blood transparent bone     I write bone blade drill bore bone / Play!  Fill it up with sound!     Write rhizome bone home both directions at once     Both directions at once bone burr bare bone     I go back to the room and write

Write more flexible fluxus open flux fluxus     Write transparent blood transparent bone     I transpose the bone open then orbit microtonal     Play!  Fill it up with sound!    Sound bone bone sonar     Sound bone decoheres desynchronized / bone separating into sound lamina     I look for bigger bone sound: larger bone sound larger book sound she lights the lights     She lights the lights ten-in-one tabernacle

She lights the lights ten-in-one bound sound tabernacle     Tabernacle sounds solar bone bent bone saw redux and redaction

She lights the lights ten-in-one bone tenor saxophone and I blow multiphonic flesh flows time fears no window     I blow multiphonic flesh bowed bone cranium arrow     She lights the lights tenor saxophone curl chest tubes conveyor belt into bone

Ten-in-One tents torture garden bodies bodies forked flesh garden of forking paths     I fling my body ten-in-one alpha and omega tenor saxophone / tenor ten tent bells and prophecies

Ten-in-One tent     Ten-in-One tabernacle     Tabernacle shining blank scars burn way down     ben bodies burn straight bone blank verse vine vine vertigo     Bodies burn ben book blasphemy / blue blastoise barbed bomb large bathers     My eyes inset insert burning barbed wire     Barbed wire whistle while you work walkman the whip and the body     Ben bodies burn whip and the body     Whip and the body I feel eye conscious of the cymbals     I soak crash cymbals holy spirit a scotch / strychnine bourbon

I stretch tent and I stretch time     My body times my body times the performance is actually a continuous melody / medley, containing themes from Truth Is Marching In, Holy Ghost, Infinite Spirit, Bells, Our Prayer, Ghosts…)     Body times my body ghost time and spirit time

Ten-in-One tabernacle shines blank scars burn way down     Down my body detuned down     Ben body drop tuning star of county down     Blank scars bore stand stir additional bone     Scars burn down detuned bone bare shoulder taryn star aquatint

(Write nonlinear nonsense     I write her name nonlinear nonsense summa theologica monstrosities     Monstrous vibrations adamantium momentum nonsense     Write nonlinear optics ten-in-one cadaver oil ouroboros     Cabaret bone book battering ram rascal) (Battering ram – not a phrase I feel fond for because my rain defaults to BATTERING RAM for alliterative verse purposes     Fuck battering rams but then I find a different language: a raw unrobed ram that seizes tare as rhizome rabid scripture tricksters) (Trickster through silver in bloody / DMX flesh of my flesh blood of my blood)

Here the secret words which Jesus the Living spoke, and which Didymus Judas Thomas wrote down

The Book Sprawls More Than I Can Tame

I write BOTH DIRECTIONS AT ONCE     I meander terribly and the Book sprawls more than I can tame or wrangle: I wrestle with the Book Name and Book Language     I write Both Directions At Once: starting a sentence in the middle, and then song to the beginning and the end of it at the same time     At the same time both directions at once overlapping spirals     Simultaneous serpent spirals     I went the meander figure with meat and I do not cut the meaner at the root but I cultivate its multiplicities and rhizomes     Nevertheless, an kerygma means cultivating the south of this Palm Tree Garden logos and Book of Sand     I attempt to grasp thy ropes of sand...

Asia suggested I use a repeating refrain or repetitive structure to give the reader an accessible entry into the Book     I decide to use an old technique of writing through the Bible and the Nag Hammadi Codex verse by verse or sentence by sentence     Even if I follow the meander for fifty pages, I will return to the verse eventually (if this experiment works out anyway I also decide not to become to attached to any particular technique or theme that doesn’t bring forth the DIVINE or JOY writhing within language) (More and more, the Book a laboratory for experiments     More and more I open myself to UGLY and to failures)

These are the secret words which the living Jesus spoke, and which Didymus Judas Thomas wrote down

Play!  Fill it up with sound!

I play secret sound and secret word (I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don’t really care for music, do ya?)

I play SOUND secret chord secret word     Word widens whirling wilderness wild woman / turning and turning in the widening gyre the falcon cannot hear the falconer…     Book widens jack London lamb of god wilderness / my Book Body other wild

My prayer plys play word both directions at once and loud lamb language both directions at once     I play secret rhythm against rhythm     I play secret point against secret point / counterpoint speech sport rhythm rhythm

I play through the bar line: I pray through the bar line nonlinear locust language pushes play through the bar line / call it anything     I write anything (Vampires at large I tell you!  Vampires!)

VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

Vampire leopard she lights the lights     Vampire leopard the bridegroom moves to her     The bridegroom moves to her leopard light light lynx taryn tape loops     Vampire leopard the upside down tree of life (They craved flesh with a hunger!  BLOOD LUST)     I play flatter rhythm my flesh flooded other (my flown flesh almost leopard / Thomas Nagel’s what is it like to be a bat)      I play flat rhythm both directions at once new directions by Miles Davis

Leopard woman roam the jungle free jazz jam     Raspberry jams run free leopard women wild     Leopard women web wild / near the end of purification, there will be cobwebs spun back and forth the sky

My body cobwebs wild logos and still in the beginning the word     In the beginning rhythm raw sound sound flesh space inflation space inflation this where time becomes space

(I do not know what happens is this Book and in this language but Book beckons rebecca bright red blood oscillator oxygen     I don’t know where the writing goes but I follow it to new directions and these directions     I feel unsubtle desert unstable my body, and my other body invades body written and rewritten, and Book exceeds my body) (should I format this so-called metacommentary or Asia-explanation and set it apart from the rest of the text     I cut anything that doesn't fill the page with SOUND)

Start the middle of a bar: learn to start and end a phrase anywhere in a measure

Leopard landslide labyrinth     Leopard landslide woman roams labyrinth landslide     Leopard lubricant butters my body fluid bottle throttles TARYN TETRAGRAMMATON     Leopard taryn tetragrammaton leopard     Leopard limousine longitudes longer letter woman roams letters     Tenor saxophone letters tenor saxophone leopards

(Syllable count and sprung rhythm)

(No transition as transition and no transformation as transformation)

(The first A section again from Parker’s solo on Thrivin’ On A Riff, breaking the longer phrases into even smaller phrases to see how he used space)

THIS: where time becomes space     This where times becomes space     Space khora space korakoram khora

(Negative theology then can only present itself as one of the most playful forms of the creature’s participation in this divine play)

Yes, play: I play     Yes I play prayer comma pump aporia     Leopard puma comma pump aporia stations of the cross     Stations of the cross station to station play (a dark play and a mystery play but play nevertheless)     I play dark desert and ultimately Book always plays play the spraypaint splattering graffiti language     I play counterpoint aporia polyphony / polychoral chymistries

Vampire leopards vampire lovers     Flashlight leopards inwards: inwards word then outward word     Flashlight flatline vampire flesh flow logos / secret words secret languages     Vampire leopard women wild makes (It was financed by Claude Alexander, a Texas drive-in owner who wanted a racy movie with lots of nudity, even though the actual nakedness in film is negligible)

My nude body shocks me and my flash-flood flesh foams flaccid fire no fire but my middling age     Midway in the dark forest age but without any comedy to show for it

My nude aging body the secret words which the living Jesus spoke

My nude aging body rejected even by vampire leopard women

(Begin sequences in the middle of sentences and complete then with other sentences     Weave interleaf interweave sentences the living woman repetition)

Play through a blues and after a small phrase you improvise, insert an eighty or quarter note rest before the next phrase)

Book block chords chorea black paintings pigment clusters aporia / Asia conversations cut text surprising naked


Conversations With Asia 06/4/2020 2:26 AM

I’m not actually going to work IN pornography but utilize it creatively and work through it, I say.  Who is your target audience? says Asia.  The queer community?  Or the average Christians?  Whoever wants to read it, I say.  It is for everyone.  I write a vessel from the spirit of God.  Doesn’t God’s word go out to everyone?  So those who accept it should accept it, I say.


I’ve paused my engagement of writing through and with pornography and I no longer write for the spirit of God but the writing erupts irregular / more intense eschaton     Writing rivens BIG RIP and although I experience a personal death of god theology / theologies (that Eli Eli Lema Sabachthani), Book babels brooks sacred brutalism   holy material holy concrete   Book not a god but a woman     I plan on writing pornography again but I have been reluctant to engage in a more explicit pornos topos     Asia criticizes my pornographic writing as lacking explicit action and as only stringing together sexual-vulgar words     Asia states she will assist me in making an explicit pornography without it being only exploitative, but I still feel embarrassed to send her any pornographies     I feel awkward in my body awful and my sex signs impotent     I improvise into my impotence outward into pulp and pornography

These are the obscure sayings that the living Jesus uttered and which Didymus Jude Thomas wrote down

My brain obscured my brain     My brain occludes my brain eclipse     My brain injects amber ellipsis insidious alchemy     Alchemical earache and earthquake

My writing is a mess, I say.  I’m sure it’s fine, says Asia.  Change is messy.  Creation is messy, she says.

The writing appears to me through a glass darkly     The writing appears to me obscure sayings, a clumsy erratic eclipse and it covers my brain black painting parking lot…

The written page is no mirror.  To write means to confront the unknown face.

This writing frustrates me but I don’t know what's wrong with it     I know it breaks apart discrete a scanner darkly     I can’t fill in the gaps

I know you are bipolar and you feel very extreme, says Asia.  Very black and white, very yes or no, but have you considered trying to reduce how often you speak in absolutes?  Like instead of saying “my writing is a mess”, you could say “my writing feels like a mess right now” or something; that way, you aren’t trapping yourself in messy writing forever

My writing feels like a mess right now

My writing feels like a mess right now and I do not confront my face or my body, but I confront the unknown face and the unknown body: Body completely obscure, a black hole body, a dark matter body     I continue to write and confront this unknown     Body naked occult occluded leopard body     Body swallow light body blood book black paintings (body apophatic face negative theology)     I go back to the room and write     I go back to the room to transcribe the Living Jesus’ dark words

Ten-in-One     Ten-in-One antioedipus agony antigone   antigone air a wall   agony wall thick verb slides untilled chiastic chasm play

(Ten-in-One Asia Among Rivers coheres the sprawl and simultaneous     Asia Among Rivers interprets and casts the single molten ingot from my chaos     I cling to her center everywhere and circumference nowhere)

Ten-in-One oil repetition     Ten-in-One rhizome repetition open religion neurotic     My neuroses haunt the name     I continually wander about, migrating here, there, and I plunge myself further and further into the realm of deterritoralization / my body without organs dissociates decay then group decomposition onto my fireside body socius surface

Ten-in-One opal oxen     Ten-in-One oxen ooze oil     One oozes orgy multidirectional: multidirectional desert without transitions     Ten-in-One oils transition narwhal six speed transmission torpedo transformation

One onto and into one: one ours haunted     Haunted repeated homophonic blocks of sound lady with the hammer     I hammer haunted with hand haunted     hammer haunted with hand hammer     Haunted hammer had day’s night

Homophonic hammer homophonic hell / hell is that noise noisier hammer weapon     Ten-in-One harpoon napalm

Lady with the hammer haunts my hands / low frequency hundreds dollar bills     Bill horn bison buffalo blue heron (Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo)     My hands haunt horns other horrors     Other horrors son of david / shame to those who have seen the Human Son     What night happen in a very very long piece in one movement (I suppose the book in its entirety writes and rewrite what happens on the Long Page and Infinite Canvas)

Multiple repetitions of predominantly very quiet, gently decaying gestures in a constantly varying meter

Ten-in-One other sound other body     Other body out into and onto     Into and onto anticommutative antisymmetrical     Lady with the hammer hits haunted beat on the brat with a baseball bat god goose bumps the haunted mask     My hands haunt house homophonic skulls / narrow skull obscurias     Obscure skull scattergories obscure    Obscure rhythm nonretrogradable rhythm obscure     Spirit space speak space: this where time becomes space     Time below space time between space

Open skull then ten open skulls

I close the skull a door

Open skull scatters stone ten stone and ten skulls

Narrow skull parries dagger strikes

My skull narrows our lady of sorrows     Sorrows serpent suspiria aporia

My skull narrow part my skull cuts stone chaos and cosmos (illustration of the cosmic order by Robert Fludd where the world soul is depicted as a woman) (Vampire leopard women roam the jungle)

Ten-in-one tent     Ten-in-One tabernacle     Ten-in-One shining blank scars burn way down: it parts ways of the serpent view, last stories where to stop calling you

Tabernacle sonic and knuckles     Tabernacle nasum narcotics     Tabernacle knock knock joke gnosis

The Revenge Of Charlie Parker Rhythm Experiments

Play everything I could possibly play     Play everything I could possibly play I could try anything     All mediums used to the maximum

I take myself too seriously so I play     I move my body dance between desert my body automobile sculpture autodeconstruction     I play avant-garde jazz and free jazz     I play Olivier Messiaen Tarungalila-Symphonie and I hymn I sing now joy despite bodies decaying something else     I play the something else anyway     I play the shape of jazz to come and the shape of punk to come anyway

I search for that new sound in my body with my body: my body dragged ragged rhythm harmolodics     Harmolodics word wilderness her labyrinth of my languages

I listen to Ornette Coleman’s Body meta, a record with his band Prime Time and they improvise harmolodic funk and free funk, and my flesh feels free funk fat rhythm tetragrammaton     My flesh widens word a legato free funk liquid she lights the lights, and my body dances sidewind word serpenttime, something over electric electric rhythms doubled bodies

A common link between Albert Ayler moving music to even higher frequencies and Ornette Coleman’s marriage of heaven and hell funk harmolodics: the drumming of Ronald Shannon Jackson (I almost forget he also played with the incredible free jazz noise group Last Exit)     I write a simultaneously more rigid and freer funk rhythm     Sprung rhythm spring heel jack urgrund joy     Joy buzzer orgasm ungrund: garden gruppen gaps writing river writing     Writing rhizome writing

I return to rhythm     I revive rhythm experiments     I edit a post for my blog for August 22, 2023 entitled “Charlie Parker Rhythm Experiments” and I return to these experiments to revise, reflect, expand, and extend: extend more earth free funk simultaneous     Prime time double trio larger rhythm and more expansive rhythm (perhaps analogous to what John Coltrane said on using two basses: to make the time more plastic)

I write freer funk rhythm my boy bold brushstroke breath music

(I copy directly from my past writing and the blog post):

I read an article about how to play rhythmically like Charlie Parker and decide to borrow some of its practice tips (I did credit the author in my original writing: it’s from an article on Jazz Advice entitled “The Powerful Rhythmic Principles of Charlie Parker” published on December 25, 2018 by the author Forrest – no last name given): phrasing through barlines like Yardbird     Start in the middle of a bar: learn to start and end a phrase anywhere in a measure…     Start phrases on upbeats often: by starting your phrases on upbeats, you’ll force yourself ot play rhythms that move your phrases through barlines     Push your phrases to beat one and keep paying and end your phrases in the middle of the bar     Play through at least one barline per phrase…

I pick the following statement from some pulps or men’s magazine:  VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

(Write various rhythm experiments with this phrase)

Vampire     Vampire Vampire     Vampire vampire aporia     Aporia vampire aporia     Aporia vampire vampire aporia     Aporia Castlevania’s Vampire Killer (a quick aside: my second favorite Castlevania game, after Symphony of the Night, is Portrait of Ruin     Its main flaw: the last few portraits / areas are recycled from areas earlier in the game, but I still feel it’s a strong Castlevania game)

Vampire Killer the empire never ended vampire     Neil young vampire blues     I dream an imaginary painting by Edvard Munch entitled Blue Vampire     Vampire empire: a more rigid vampire rhythm alongside a more free vampire rhythm     Vampire double quartet simultaneously and I play first album length improvisation

It seems to me you like my writing line by line but not paragraph by paragraph, I say.  That’s a fair assessment, says Asia.  I think I could send you any random line and you will probably like it.  It’s just being barraged by it makes it a sensory short circuit, like watching a Michael Bay film.  That's pretty accurate, says Asia.  I have a suggestion.  Feel free to toss this aside, but what if you did your usual thing for two or three paragraphs and broke it up with a slow bit of narrative or commentary.  I’ve seen it done in poems before.  Like it gives it something solid to grab onto.  Bonus points if it’s a drastically different tone, says Asia.  That’s a solid idea, I say, and it is something I have been sort of experimenting with in an obscure way, like writing a metacommentary on my creative process.  I want to do it in a way where it is still literary and poetic and not dry and didactic; and in a way that doesn’t close off other interpretations or openings, I say.  It can still be poetic but drastically reduce the alliteration and have long, complicated sentences in that section.  That will help break it up, make the reader slow down and give you a chance to emphasize the theme you’ve been building or let the piece be a solid anchor that secures the rest, says Asia.  Would long complicated sentences defeat the point though of accessibility?  No, long complicated sentences aren’t complicated to read but do a magic trick where you literally make time slow down, says Asia.  Lots of descriptive detail adds to this effect too, says Asia.  I was using our conversations as a kind of anchor I thought, but we weren’t directly talking about the Book, I say.  I think your idea is good and I want to try it.  What I don’t want to do is what CG Jung did to his Red Book and Black Books.  He took his visions reduced them to scientific “respectable” language, I say.

I obsess rhythm and I feel flesh rhythm raspberry rainwater waters     I engage in rhythm experiments because I hope the rhythmic oddities breaks my brain open into something less subjective     I feel too subjective and I find myself caught up too much in my own tastes and aesthetics     I try to write beyond my brain using the aleatoric, cut-up machines, and other mechanical manglings of texts, and various exercises and experiments     I attempt to write something truly new to me, playing without memory writing without memory

VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

Vampire     Vampire vampire vengeance     Vampire vampire libertine vibrations     Vampire videotape volumes     Vampire video drone vulgar volumes (the battle for the mind of North American will be fought in the video arena – the videodrome…)

Vampire leopard vasectomy / Stations of the cross castration

Vampire leopard she lights the lights varicella videodisc / Stations of the cross chickenpox     (My body blisters bitches brew)

Vampire leopard verapamil / Vampire verb calcium channel blocker bitches brew     Imaginary blue witches blue witch dreams

Albert Ayler really opened me up as far as playing, says Ronald Shannon Jackson.  I had never really experienced totally playing before.  Up until then, my work had been playing the background: the “ching-ching-a-ding” line where you played like this person.  You played in a groove like Blakey or Max or Philly Joe, and at that time Tony Williams was riding the crest of the jazz wave.  You played like them or you weren’t playing!  Albert was the type of person who wouldn’t say “I want this” or “I want that”.  He’d just say “Play!  Fill it up with sound!”

I write TOTAL PLAYING     I write TOTAL PLAY animal aporia ark anarchy     Total play Sun Ra Arkestra     The Page as Sprawl was the Page as Field – this very page that overwhelms Asia with its bombs over baghdad drum n’ bass shock and aw – is my attempt to play total, to play everything, to fill up the page with sound     Not just a LOUD SOUND but a DYNAMIC SOUND     Sound with the imagined vinyl warmth, the lived-in experienced sound     This multidirectional simultaneous everything at once overwhelms me because there’s so much to write – nevertheless, I keep writing

Would you like to brainstorm some techniques with me then?  Sure.  Let’s take a short example of something you read the other day and we can try and figure it.  OK.  I thought maybe this would be a good starting point, I say:

Yahweh inflicts violence body fixed point fire     Yahweh inflicts violence female bodies and her death has the scent of roses (Mary Mother of God mystic rose like a rose among thorns so is my beloved among maidens     Eva Frank maiden iron maiden     Rose assembly of Israel)

Here's the main text.  For a commentary text, maybe something like this:

I read Bible word wrapped around my Brain and I cannot extinguish the visions of genocide and violence, of Yahweh demanding the blood of native Canaanites: animals, women and children; I imagine thousands of human bodies slaughter for the sake of a national god, by an invading force coming to take what God says is rightfully theirs... My mind juxtaposes it with the most delicate of images: the rose.  The Rose from the Song of Solomon, the Rose of the Beloved, sometimes interpreted as Christ and the Church, and as Israel and Yahweh.  The Rose too is bloody; human blood, and sometimes animal blood of sacrifices.  I dip the rose in Blood, and Eva Frank, the daughter of the great Jewish Apostate Jacob Frank, appears to me as a potential Messiah, as the Shekinah, and she too fails to cease the violence of God.

I just wrote this off the top off my head, stream-of-consciousness, so you tell me if this is what you were thinking of.  That’s probably a bit more detailed than it needs to be, and I would probably not write commentary on such a small segment like that, but just as a proof of concept.  I like that a lot, says Asia.

I decide to write something else like I always do, but I will return to rhythm and rhythm experiments like I always return to everything     It’s all related and remains the same thought and same Book even if Asia doesn't see the continuity (Asia always-already experiences the continuity)

Enter – Prime Time in forming a harmolodic band, where the needs of the composer and the players found challenging questions     Prime Time is not a jazz, classical, rock or blues ensemble     It is pure harmolodic where all forms that can or could exist yesterday, today, or tomorrow can exist in the now or the moment without a second

I listen to Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler and I write Fill It Up With Sound     I write FILL IT UP WITH SOUND

My writing is a mess / my writing is a mezzo-soprano     I sing syntactical ghost trance music interchangeable instrumentation     voices improvise similarly, strip the vowels but leave the voice (voice voices videodrome tonality diamond more than television)

Tonality diamond more than television (Before I was shot, I always thought I was more half-there than all-there – I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life.  People sometimes say that the way things happen in movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen in life that’s unreal.   The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television – you don’t feel anything.  Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television.  The channels switch but it’s all television.)

Television sets compose my skeleton     Television sets compact my skeleton     Television torques hook human / son of man machine maximum: maximum bodies maximum rocknroll holly holy roller rat fuck     Fuck fat backbeat bodies flesh free funk

My Body Broods Alien And Other

My body feels unfamiliar     I feel my body uncomfortable, its own form of subtle body horror     I feel I have a tumor or some insidious cancerous growth (this alien interior to my body and my body contorts contact with my body, my flesh flat against flesh)     My flesh flies more flesh flows alien other and altered alien     My flesh feels or folds an altered alien, my own body other alien hand syndrome     My flesh flints autoimmune body: body hard butter, a margarine machine unmetered machine machete slashers     Machete spaghetti western slashers

My groin groans possible tumors

(My body feels uncomfortable uncategorizable flesh and undifferentiated body desert)

I feel my groin – my left inner thigh – the acid of the femoral artery and my flesh fosters extra flesh my fat body stretched tractor canvas     I refuse to accept this flesh and I fear the hernia and tumor and imaginary hypercells and hypertexts consume my bodies

My body superimposed onto bodies my body doubled, extra fat extra weight extra bulk: ben body boat then cargo ship     Cargo ship or aircraft carrier carton of cigarettes

Perhaps too this alien feeling of fat in contact with new fat, this new body not mine, drives from a psychosomatic manifestation of my mood swings and anxieties, and my brain blades my body     My brain bruises my body blast caps and squibs and my body squirms false body this-born-not-mine     My body double doppelganger grows my groin gangrene     My groin gutted by gangsters tommy gun graphic violence

ben body begotten     ben body abandoned copper and silver mine     Silver mine mine cart madness

I feel my body another ben body body horror     Horror camera cataract crack my cranium crevasse and my body beams horror directly through the occipital bone (Horror begins at dusk… and continues until dawn!  With 5 orgies of evil on one big-color show!  #1 You’ll shudder!  THE COMEDY OF TERRORS  #2 You’ll shake!  THE MASQUE OF RED DEATH  #3 You’ll gasp!  WAR-GODS OF THE DEEP #4 You’ll shiver!  TOMB OF LIGEIA  #5 You’ll tremble!  TALES OF TERROR     You’ll experience a monstrous nightmare as the fear enters your body!)

I fear my body     I fear my body body shudders     My body shudders shakes serious house on serious earth     My body gasps my groin gash and my body gardens my own guts slow scar glaciers     My body shivers shadow and in the shadowplay I act out my own death knowing no more     My body becomes a nightmare from which I cannot wake

Are you familiar with fractals? I say.  No, I’m not, says Asia.  This is an example of a fractal on the complex plane.  It’s a pretty rigorously defined mathematical structure but in common parlance, a fractal is a self-similar figure.  It looks similar no matter how far you zoom in or zoom out.  I think the Book is a fractal.  Zoom out and you will see the continuity of themes and language and process happening again and again.  A large scale spiral repetition, I say.  I like the idea, says Asia, but that doesn’t change the fact that each individual piece should have its own consistency and cohesiveness, says Asia.

My body shivers strikingly inconsistent     Inconsistent stone snakes my body uneven and I decohere no material     My body bands inconsistent making me awake or my raw materiality simultaneously unreal     Radius unreal rib cage chariot wheels

(I need to write more nonlinearly     I need to write more flexible fluxus nonlinear)

(I need to cease my obsession with writing BEAUTIFUL SOUND and GRAND LITERATURE and POETRY BULLSHIT) (I recall a conversation with Christina on my writing struggles: specifically I am trying to find Book meaning without God, I say.  I don’t think you have to do anything to be worthy of all the love in the world, says Christina.  And I think every positive thing you do creates an energy that makes the world a better place, she says.  I feel if I’m not writing prophetically, I deserve to die, I say.  I realize how sever a position that is.  It’s taken my sponsor telling me over and over over a million times (literally at least one hundred) to even start to pretend to believe, says C.  She says, who the fuck told you there’s a ticket to get love?  It’s hard because these things take a long, LONG time to internalize, if ever, says C) (Therefore, I continue to struggle with my creativity and self-worth but the words of the Coalesce song Sometimes Selling Out Is waking Up pops into my head:  we take ourselves too seriously   we never leave our politics at home and just live   there will always be some struggle   well sometimes selling out is waking up) (I decide to live without the writing and I decide to let the writing live through my living)

My body betrays my body / ben body bursts open Judas Iscariot     My body betrays my body but I bend blues beach rhythm     If I move my body, my body feels familiar again a stranger same flesh

I write my body more nonlinearly     I write my body flexible fluxus nonlinear and my flesh shifts desert dance     To move means to slowly learn to live in my body again     I write my bodies within without Christianities and I search my body new dance salamander ambiguous water     Ambidextrous desert     My body dances lefthanded desert then righthanded desert, dipping waters diaspora     diaspora aporia my body more porous     ben body peaks porous khora: khora karst my limestone lipstick

Fill The Page With Sound

Ten-in-One show     Ten-in-One show Taryn     I show tent tease (intense past tense intense future intense)     I show tent tense interpretation Torah

Here is a hypothetical question, says Asia.  If I were to say “your writing is shit” or said something that you interpreted that way, would you then believe that you didn’t deserve to live or that you are a useless person because of it?  Yeah I think so, I say.  You’re pointing out that my writing and my self are not easily disentangled in my brain, but if we have to burn everything to make a new ben, that’s worth it in the long run, I say.  OK, so you see how that poisons the well a bit, right? Says Asia.  Like, I HAVE to like your writing; it’s not something that happens organically.  Not that I don’t like your writing but it’s now wrapped up in your self-wroth that your writing is one of my favorite pieces of literature or you are worthless, she says.  You asked me and I answered honestly, I say.  I don’t want to lie to you.  I understand and appreciate it, says Asia.  I’m just starting to think about this situation from another angle.  We might need a new boundary in regards to your writing.  I don’t really want to keep engaging with it if it’s so drastically wrapped up in your self worth.  I need you to start separating the two, says Asia.

Two talk two     Two talk two two speak two ben blues     ben blues bitches brew     Bitches brew beat blues ben body: ben body two     ben two body blue bathers     ben two body blue whale blue bathers

ben bathers large bathers

ben bathers large bathers blue / bitches brew barracuda     Big fish big riff raptor     Two raptors rip two slayer riffs

Two teeth     Two teeth tar torah two teeth tear my temple speaks tent stone / tent peg through my skull

Two teeth tick blue lyme hymn blunt weapon hymen     Two anthem autumn sonata sonata serpent blues     Two serpent blues cue ball hues / snooker serpents     Snooker serpents hookah hangman train whistle     Train whistle twin tonic pendulum     Twin tonic pendulum progressive tonality / I write my Book as a Mahler Symphony

Two symphonies two selves (deals out that being indoors each one dwells: SELVES – goes itself; myself in speaks and spells)

I contemplate Asia’s language: to disentangle my self from what I perceive as my self: this book as ben, ben blue bitches brew bastard book, this ben-book potpourri or hodgepodge apocalypse aporia languages     This ben-Book selves, splits capitalism and schizophrenia sabbatean serpents     This ben-Book selves strange stone keystone: keystone khora     Keystone khora within the churchyard found the philosopher's stone     Philosopher's stone sprung rhythm heather     I mimic Gerard Manley Hopkins’ sprung rhythm and I experience his selves self melancholy and self priest, and my two tarots hierophant and high priestess     ben two tarots talons old Christianities and old religions     ben two selves not sabbaths but speartime serpents and I wake and feel the fall of dark, not day     I, too, sing sonnets of desolation (my book-body abomination of desolation and desolation of desolations)

Ben, you should keep writing, says Asia.  I want to engage with your writing.  I enjoy reading it and critiquing it.  But I don’t like how you feel like you are worthless and deserve to die if I don’t think your writing is the best thing ever made.  I don’t like how often you spiral because of it.  I don't like how your writing becoming my absolute favorite is the only option that will keep my friend alive, says Asia.  I understand, I say.  I’m just feeling really unhappy about it.  But I don’t think you’re wrong.  I don’t care if it’s unhealthy.  The writing will outlive me.  It’s more important than me so it has to be the best it can be, I say.  To me, your writing will never be more important than you, says Asia.  Yeah, I see that, I say.  I do want the writing to be your favorite literature.  And that’s a fine goal on its own, says Asia, but not if you won’t accept any other option, she says.

ben write bite blue     ben write bone rhizome blue bartender and I drink writing Francis Bacon’s abusive lovers     blue bone baby beluga / bonfire benders

ben write ten-in-one batmite and I unstraighten silver age Batman     I embrace and rewrite Grant Morrison’s Batman

Write random river stochastic rhizome (the idea for a Book: to lay everything out on the plane of exteriority on a single page: a broken chain of affects and variable speeds, accelerations and transformations, always in relation with outside)

I write outside open rings     I write outside outside stars stones human skeletons     I write outside outside then outside entirely bodies (sultry as the southern sun, wild desire throbbed in her passion soul THE WARM FLESH)

I write daylight and egg white     I write daylight dogbite and egg white eyes flashlight     My eye cases turntable experiments (Taryn Trickaufnahme)     My eyes accelerate decelerate two phonographs simultaneously simultaneous two selves     My selves slip serpents uncertain experiments and I search my eyes blue tint vinyl violences

Ten-In-One Show     Show snow sides how sideways wonderwall

It is impossible for me to write the book so it’s one of your all time favorites? I say.  No, it’s not impossible, says Asia.  I don’t know how to make it my favorite.  All my favorites ere found by accident and I definitely didn’t play a role in shaping them.  I’ve never been in this situation before, she says.  Can I ask what some of your current favorites are?  I still like Mary Oliver.  I really enjoyed Mexican Gothic.  I’m currently reading Octavia Butler but I don’t know if she’s one of my favorites.  I like the way Ursula Le Guin writes sometimes but I need to read more from her.  I like Ray Bradbury too, she says.  What do you think is the main thing my writing lacks that your other favorites have?  That's a hard question, says Asia.  It’s not very fair because most of them besides Mary Oliver are narratives.  A lot of them explore universal human themes but other works of literature do that and don’t manage to be my favorite, says Asia.

Ten-In-one Show     Show snow sideshow sideways wonderwall     Wall spider speedrun     Sideshow swim slaughter suspiria

I spin thread human: I spin thread haunted house human     Human hurries her three mothers (Three mothers generate / in habit a cinematic world informed by Jungian archetypal imagery, each holding sway over a particular city)     I hum human husks the night he came home!

From now on, awake or asleep, remember that you have seen the human son and have spoken with him and have listened to him     Shame on those who have seen the human son

I discard my human     I discard my human you are the one who writes and the one who is written     I discard the writing set my body ablaze     I burn Book alphabet beta radiation letters

I often think of the song Push The Sky Away by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: I got this feeling I just can’t shake I got a feeling that just won’t go away You’ve got to just keep on pushing it keep on pushing it push the sky away

I bush Book and burn ben but the bonfire blazes new breath

I burn Book to the blood and bone and Jesus said, I have cast fire upon the world, and look I’m guarding it until it blazes

I set my body ablaze and fires flood book her warm flesh

Ben, you should keep writing, says Asia

Sideshow swim sleet neat suspiria, the copper spray blood son of man and bone human one (the film shot in normal eastman color kodak then printed using the three-step technicolor-process utilizing one of the last remaining three strip machines)     Suspiria swing she lights the lights and I see Levana in my dreams     Her slasher film faust famine / emaciated calves devour fat calves but remain emaciated     Suspiria swims cremation machine ashes asia among river beetles secret agents     Asia double agent desert doppelganger gang of four floor spread beetles     The swimmer by John Cheever shrinkwraps surreal suspiria stretched stations of the cross

The Swimmer by John Cheever     sideshow slipstream party streamer     Johnny hates jazz shattered dreams

I saw one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him

I trace my script as scripture ho huios tou anthropou     Anthropou topos snail trails Taryn gospel     Gospels generate / inhabit a cinematic world informed by jungian archeytpal imagery, each holding sway over a particular city     My book strands sword cityscapes Lady Book of Sand

Christina feels the writing is incredibly important and I think it is probably her favorite piece of literature, I say.  So there are people in my life who feel that way.  I never really had someone I creatively engaged with like you, who was in the middle of my writing.  Not thinking it as nonsense and not thinking it was prophetic power literature stuffs.  I find that challenging to me and you having that position helps me give some perspective outside of myself.  I only feel two ways about my writing: genius or complete shit.  You liking it as a favorite would be proof to me as an objective viewpoint verifying it… I acknowledge if you do end up having it as your favorite maybe I would have to find another person to “convert”, I say.  I’m sorry, says Asia, but that idea was a little funny to me.  Just the idea of you having to find someone else if I do end up loving it.  Just the idea of you finally reaching this important milestone then being like, “right, ok, moving on”… I think this shows the issue actually has nothing to do with your writing and comes from your low self worth, says Asia.  Yeah, I think so, I say.  I think you’re right.  Do you think it’s possible for me to continue having my goal be among your favorite writers and also work on my self worth?  Yes, I think it’s possible but you do still have to separate the two, says Asia… Hey I’m proud of you, says Asia.  I know you haven’t really done anything yet but the fact I was able to have this conversation with you at all is testament to how much you’ve already done, she says.

I work     I work you are the one who writes and the one who is written     I work the strange whir of word: word womb sculpture     I work the repetition of work raw material materials     I work doubt and ugly (Ellie was a girl who couldn’t say no UNWILLING SINNER)     I gut my body written unwilling ugly and I swim shit shame on those who have seen the human one

Ten-In-One / haunted repeated homophonic blocks of sound the lady with the hammer     Ten-In-One totentanz the lady with the hammer haunted     Horror haunted house homophonic skulls / narrow and obscure skull     I write explicit ugly and accidental ugly (no man can hold what the darkness can sow gonna leave an ugly skull when you go)     I work skulls uglies animated cup mixer and taster     I shed skull hull hacksaw inhabited human     Uninvited skull inverted skull ugly     Undo ugly and I use ugly skulls as skipping stones

Ugly umber umber umbra stomach ulcers     I write ugly with writing utterances     Skull narrow arrow ugly (illustration of the cosmic order by Robert Fludd, where the world soul is depicted as a woman)     My body birds cosmic skull scratches a river many single things going to almost the same place at almost the same time

I feel frustrated with this writing: it seems ugly and awkward and unintuitive     I want to write something like Higgs Boson blues or the tenor saxophone surreal shark of bells     I want to get hit in my skull fractal fracture unhinged flesh sumptuous ugly     My accidental unwilling ugly imitates the uninteresting: I want my ugly interesting and intriguing     I want to write Julius Eastman GAY GUERRILLA and FEMENINE, an organic music that bursts a mighty fortress is our god and be thou my vision

Higgs boson blues boston microtonal society

Write Albert Ayler bell smears vibrates intuitive improvisation     My skull crashes ugly melody monitor lizard

After I made GHOSTS and SPIRITUAL UNITY I sent all the records to Coltrane to help give him the direction.  He is a spiritual brother and one that can really hear music of all different kinds.  After I sent those records, the next thing I heard was ASCENSION, and it was beautiful, everything was building, everyone was screaming

I need Albert Ayler to appear to me in a dream and give me music and melodies and records he’s been making in the Palm Tree Garden     I want Albert Ayler’s ghost GHOSTS and spirit SPIRITUAL UNITY to help give me direction

New Directions by Miles Davis     New Directions by Ben-Adam and Ben-Hinnom

I continually search for something, something I don’t know yet, but new music new expression new writing

I search for that HOLY GHOST truly ghost gap christianity yet christianity crucified eli eli lama sabachthani

I rewrite my skull as holy ghost hourglass hour of the wolf stained glass     I rewrite my skull wolf skull witch word and holy ghost bewitches bitches brew blue

(The old ones called it the hour of the wolf.  It is the hour when most people die, when most children are born.  Now when is nightmares come to us.  And if we are awake… we’re afraid.  We’re afraid.)

I awake to my skull as my skull     A skull as a skull brush bare stainless steel     Skull terminates sheet termite tenet / my skull steers forwards and backwards stunt car parallel parking     Parking lot skull concrete

I rewrite skull ten-in-one overlapping rhizomes inside-outside the plane of consistency     Ten-In-One skull skateboard open ring suspiria language     Language tenebroso book Taryn cartoon transformers     I throw my skull as a skipping stone across waters and it boomerangs back to bodies     I throw my skull as a projectile and overhead projector and the transparency transports my body as bellwork     I work my skull and rewrite my skull     I throw my skull stormbreaker shell burst barrage garage rock rumpelstiltskin

Ten-In-One trills pterodon wings winged wagyu beef     Ten-In-One anoints skull olive oil x-files: my skull deforms ancient aliens, the three eyed ancestors of Akhenaten

My brain feels brine-haunted haunted kindergarten black iron prison

He called me.  He started playing gigs together down at the Lafeyette Theater.  I’ve been playing by myself a lot and I’d play duos and trios and orchestras and choirs, but never with someone who told me to play everything I could possibly play.  It blew my mind.  I could try anything.

I imitate Ronald Shannon Jackson playing with Albert Ayler: play everything I can possibly play     I fill the page with sound     I fill page HOLY GHOST god everlasting gobstopper experiments     I write swung polyrhythm then multidirectional