Matchess – Sacracorpa

sacracorpa

So God plugged the universe in. “Let there,” he began, “be sound.”
And he turned us on.

The splitting of a hair almost always renders it useless

Do the asymmetrical boogie

I’m not working for the man ever again
He makes me sick
Then blames me for breathing the air he polluted!
And as he counts his money that he’ll never spend
I ain’t working for the man ever again

The gravity of our shared destiny is what keeps us in orbit about each other

Mary had a little mammalian cell bioreactor

The children of the thousand eyes
Came back from subject island
They had asbestos hair
And nothing made them frightened

The chief of chalice is currently visually ill

A tone of my own

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Jjuujjuu – Zionic Mud

jjuujjuu

Imagine a jigsaw, a round, huge, perhaps even infinite, where all the pieces are unique, and make for a beautiful whole when observed from without, as is quite possible for anyone with the requisite spiritual training. So, then, let us immediately zoom in on a small piece roughly to the left of the hypothetical centre, a bit above and less to the top, capable of movement. It’s sad. It saw something about one of the other pieces over on the right, and it wants to be like the piece on the right, but the piece on the right is different, different shape for a start. So our piece, with a tremendous effort of will, gradually alters his shape, trying to be the same shape as his idol. Unfortunately, he can’t quite get to the right shape, though he keeps trying, because he thinks he just needs to persevere because some idiot wrote that if you persevere, you will get everything you want. The problem was, the effort at remaining in the wrong shape, and the continuous striving to perfect this other shape was an enormous strain, emotionally, and eventually, physically, which took its toll not just on our little piece, but on those around it too, and eventually, on the whole picture. Because those around it suddenly found that they weren’t fitting as comfortably as before, and so they thought there was something missing in what they had begun to think of as themselves. This led to a growing communal sense of dissatisfaction, the solutions to which seemed to be in following the first of the shapeshifters, who, due to a bizarre irony, was now seen as something of a pioneer and so they started trying to imitate him, and then others came up with what seemed like an original take, but was in fact their limitations making it impossible to become an exact copy, so they therefore seemed original enough for others to try and copy, all failing, of course. So the continuing result is a jigsaw of pieces where very few fit – those who have kept their original shape are now regarded as psychologically deficient in some way.

Locean – Object/Disco

locean

Six white pigeons lined on a roof
Re-arranged to give the order of proof
The magus waits until his hands have finished
Then asks them what they did

Six wide angles in a time of doubt
Give way to senses and what’s allowed
The disease waits until his hands are full
Then he asks them what they’re doing

Six meets seven then multiplies
It’s a universe but a smaller size
The maker waits til his hands are empty
And asks them what have they done

 

Lonker See – One Eye Sees Red

 

lonker

 

I transformed the light into darkness
simply by closing my eyes
I transformed the darkness into light
simply by opening my eyes

I am you

Disguised as me

Remember that in your dealings

The dinosaur chases the Christian and hounds him till the end and says
‘when I come back, I want to be a materialist.’

Kaos Karma – Deathology

kaoskarma

(sidebar: they have a new album which seems stunning based on the teaser track, but I can’t find a version to stream)

Within the undermonk, a brew is stirring, felt by only signals, seen by only mushmen, heard by only ethernuts. I spotted a freak trying to get a message through just last night. Stopped him just in time. You never know what he might have done if his communication would have succeeded. Tried to do it again, most likely. See, in this job, you gotta know the freaks, their wiles, foibles, minimums. In hilarity and in health, the freaks are always there. You exterminate one bunch, another takes its place. Its like tissue regeneration in a way, like when a limb goes and a new one grows back because the organism wants it back. And here I am, facing an equal compulsion to get rid of the freaks, despite they constant, they constant, they always there! In my head, they always there! I close my eyes, I open my eyes, all I see is freaks! Like spots on my existence, piles of angst quaking my moorings, fishing for my soul and hooking into my eyes with their slimy forked vision. Look at me! I will not be freaked out! I will keep my constancy, keep what I have known, at home with my stagnation and spores and what. Ask me my mind, I dare you, you cannot infect me, even though you’re leaving, even though you got nowhere to go, I have no sympathy, you’re not human you’re a freak. Leave me with my things, my constants, my anchors, my knowledge that the morning is the same as the night is the same as the day is the same is the same is the same is the same. My freak, my freak, where did you go? I need you my freak. All of a sudden you gone, and the world don’t seem so safe no more.

Poppy Ackroyd – Resolve

poppyackroyd

Everything happened at once. I couldn’t make sense of it all so I split it up into a series of events that seemed connected, which I tried to experience in succession in the hope that this would render it sensible, but the information was still too intense, so I fractured myself into myriad perceptual units so as to take in one little fragment at a time, but even these chunks were unmanageable so I had to imagine new and unheard of angles from which to perceive so as to widen the scope of the possibilities unto almost infinity as far as I could make out. Even then, I had to get the separate units to reproduce themselves at regular intervals, and still the information kept on coming. Indeed, it seemed it was expanding to fill every perceptual space I was creating. I needed to think of a new format.

The Big Drum in the Sky Religion – Super Panentheistic Freakout Infinity

SPF

Making sense is overrated. Even trying to be vaguely understood is restrictive.

The Heebyjeeby is, by nature, a solitary, quiet animal, with a small penchant for building nests which it then sells to small mammals or birds, depending on locale, price, amenities, frequency of mobs etc. Almost never does it come into contact with more than one of its own species, and its dealings with other animals it likes it also keeps to a minimum, unless selling them compact and bijou but deceptively spacious living spaces. Then, one fateful day (everyday is fateful in at least one area) a Heeby named Jeeby was prostrate in a jeep, thinking about the good old ways and how to apply for them when an angry squirrel confronted it and accused it of hiding his nuts (they were actually just cheap nuts, and had simply gone). Jeeby quickly vacated the jeep, but ran into another Heeby called Cake, who was running from a stoat who’d fancied a change of nightmare for a day. The two of them set off on an adventure in fleeing, but encountered another pair of heebyjeebies, whose names we shall no longer document, who were running away from things we shall no longer keep track of, because registers are products of the bureaucratic mind, which is like an organic machine, constantly being reducted. One thing led to another and soon there were a whole pack running for all they were worth in a bear market when they actually did run into a bear market, which caused some of the more nervous to start screaming, which set them All off.
And that was where we came in, and how they got their name.