Twisted Treatises

O Lord How long Must our mouths Murder our love? When we try to just be-- And live joyously, Here they come Here they come. So be silent-- Force a smile, Keep your mind in line. It don't matter 'Bout luck By their habit We're fucked-- No escape from the squealing swine. Let them talk Let them talk Let they goddamn bitch ass talk! Gnashing their teeth And repeating themselves 'Til you give up and get in line. Let them talk Let them talk Let they goddamn bitch ass talk! You exist to produce a dollar-- Give it back to the man, And that's fine! Right? Never state goals They'll make sure you know you'll fail Don't show them your spirit 'Less you like being locked up in jail Learn to want nothing Then no one can exploit your need And go fully feral When it's time to make suckas bleed Let them talk Let them talk Let their goddamn b itch ass talk! The news is a liar And the plebes have turned borderline. Let them t

We have spent long years in this country without seeing firsthand what war does. Pearl Harbor and 9/11 do not compare to Hitler's Garden of Ruins or W's Shock and Awe or what the Enola Gay shit on Japan.   I've been thinking about this a lot lately. If I was the Great Grand Vile Dictator of All and Everything, this is how I'd take down the "Most Powerful Country in the World."  Biding Time--Wait and Watch. Let them puff themselves up for a few decades. Let them piss everyone off and lose allies with their endless smug. Get them strung out on my country's exports. While this is going on...I wait. And watch. While they ripen with overconfidence and decades of ease... I show their plebian what its leadership looks like to me. A book, a film, a voice, all of which multiply and create a small pop counterculture which is loud and impossible to ignore. With clever word and visual advertisements, I'd encourage protest rhetoric and collect fans who maybe wouldn

The Old Irons  *WARNING: I'm going to mention wokism in this. It's not my privileged rabidity, it's calling a keyboard a keyboard when that's what it is. If that's going to offend, maybe read somehting else.* *Since friends will read this before anyone else does, that's not for you--it's for the future. Long game thinking. That's the way.* *You'll understand why I did this if you watch the remake.* Ah, the old Irons Mantles. That makes them sound fittingly mighty. And they were-- Cronenberg's 1988 version was deeper. You can tell that was made for adults with adult minds. I feel like the 2023 is made for grown folks with kids' minds. I can imagine the new generation calling the Cronenberg boring. I don't think anyone would call the new one boring. Stupid, maybe. And over the top, blatantly gory, and demeaning to the birth process. Like a good horror movie should be. Not exclusively to the birth process, but to any process or thing. If you

From my own limited experience... Root seems to buzz from the feet and fire up the back in waves of Prana, igniting all it passes by. Etheric waste can be directed into the earth this way through meditation. This practice is best done alone. Root--is like going to the bathroom. It is also the place where rubato--the red curse energy--lives. But I'm not discussing that here--anyone who wants to know more about the red may look up anything they can on the root chakra and find what they need. But jumping into it ignites the spine and solar plexus. That heat and electric fire will make a person...driven, I'll call it.  It is linked to digestion. Maybe that's why being regular is so important. Weak, clogged root energy is sluggish, dour, and is easily translated into spite and melancholy. It is also linked to the balls in a man--this may be what makes seminal containment both a difficult and important occult practice when consecrating or casting et al. The buildup of root energy

Texas called me Bastardo Palido I've slung greens Ice chips And tar I once took ladders Off of a dead man Sometimes you just don't know who you are. Ran roads with a bandit in Houston We moved wraps and fresh sticks and stones Ought not played with monopoly money Wound up spitting juice from our bones Ever shot poison out of your belly? It don't hurt if you boot up before The bayou by night is a glamorous thing And the gators don't care if you snore They ride bikes with bullwhips in Reno Bluecoat snitches on segways zip by My bed there looked like a sliver But the good word was rarely dry They don't allow fires on 5th street Buddy tried to snuff his with booze VOA found him stiff in the cubby Deader than unbiased news I got well close by the Hi Ho And the shanties behind Lincoln's head Chemtrails smelling fresh in the mountains If I stayed there all year I'd be dead Ive always been a Pale Bastard I've made music with dead folks