One Dog Clapping – Alternarratives

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It is 9/9/18, and 9.09 pm (BST) when I click the publish button on Bandcamp. We have entered the time of the new moon. Fittingly, I have ‘Ritual‘ by Fire! Orchestra playing.

Alternarratives is the third album in the ‘Meeting The Changing Landscape’ Series, and the halfway point. It is about, broadly speaking, telling ourselves better stories so that we can head towards the Hills to Die On.

The next album in the series takes a turn back into the void as these better stories wrestle with the demons that would have them remain unspoken, and will be called Internal Route Fury.

 

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Timothy J. Fairplay -Mindfighter EP

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On a bridge on a plain senorita sing again as the angels learn to fly they’re oblivious, delirious [] once upon a time certain words became a rhyme and although the meaning changed they’re oblivious, delirious [] the air is an idea and contains a gateway here and there are stories that I tell but they’re oblivious, delirious [] I’m electric don’t you know I’m magnetic full of flow and I try t tell the world but they’re oblivious, delirious [] scratching at the door even though you came before weren’t you desperate to get out? But you’re oblivious delirious [] there’s no welcome back there’s no room within this shack they’d rather you weren’t here but they’re oblivious delirious [] and it all still looks the same because you think a plain’s a plain you should see it underneath but you’re oblivious
delirious

There’s not a glimmer of fire in the eyes
not an ember to smoulder
but something’s going tick tock
and it’s loud enough to move
as a casual wave
and I am at your mercy

I burnt from my mistakes

Fanatism – The Future Past

fanatism

The universe is a perpetual perceptual feedback loop

I’m preaching to the diverted

You cross the line when you play the game

The shape of things to come? Or the things that shapes become?

Work hard play dead

Make sure the opposing possibility has a crossover point, or it’ll be a waste of saturation

Smile for the countdown

You have a fire inside you? Poor thing! How do you concentrate?

If you must have an obsession, do try to have more than one. It’ll make you so much more interesting at parties.

 

Jjuujjuu – Zionic Mud

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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.

The Telescopes – Hungry Audio Tapes

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Life contains an inherent unpredictability field, one of the most vital building blocks if I may be forgiven that clumsy analogy, although all the blocks are vitally important for Gestaltic reasons. But this Unpredictability Field is often – nay, always – overlooked. This is where the creative spirit comes from, those who seem more creative have a stronger manifestation of this field. One effect of this is that being with them makes life more unpredictable! Obviously.  An example here is weather forecasts. Somebody with a strong field will believe that weather forecasters are charlatans because all the predictions seem to be little better than chance added to easily observable patterns that anybody coulld work out given two functioning eyes.

An important distinction must be made here: unpredictability is not the same thing as randomness.

This is why attempts to build life are going so badly; those attempting to build are not accounting for unpredictability as it cannot be reduced to a detailed description. It has no atoms or its equivalents.

One Dog Clapping – Hills to Die On

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I could write a whole essay, nay dissertation, on the travails of getting this thing over the line due to PC breakdowns, temporary patches, surprise findings of old pcs in a cupboard, etc. I’m not going to, as it would be of very limited interest.

So this is the yin to The Castle is Burning!‘s yang, or vice versa, I’ve currently forgotten which one is which. I call this my positive album, whereby we find the pockets of light in the darkness that are worth living for, and thus also dying for. The tl;dr summary is: love, authenticity, dreams, banishing fear, and variations on those themes.

Once I’ve adapted to changed settings (for which credit and huge thanks go to my friend Chris Hall), I will get on with the next in the series, which will be Alternarratives.

Fruit & Flowers – Drug Tax

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As if by magic, the floor was clean. Kevni was a fairly average specimen for a lifeform of his ilk, though moderately and comparatively more powerful than his brethren, for reasons not immediately obvious. This was because his ancestors had ballooned into this sphere several significant generations ago and now Kevni and his kin controlled all they surveyed, progressing the natives according to a thing they called a doctrine, whereby one must always seek constant growth of an imaginary consequence. Now, whilst the average reader might immediately grasp the possibilities of implementing such a philosophy for a predominantly spiritual quest, and indeed some families did indeed follow this path, the overall outcome was the most influential were Kevni’s forbears who established what you might term a monopo-fucking-ly and controlled much of the communication. They playfully allowed different modes of conduct within their framework, worded in such a way as to seem intractably opposed when their intended ends were still the same, and these usually resolved into seeming dichotomies of one system demanding that all worked together centrally controlled toward a supposed group growth, whilst their ‘opponents’ utilised the same small number of elite although they made them appear as if they were changeable, and these could then use their people in a much more insidiously exploitative manner. But the object of both was to grow, and grow they did, so Kevni’s dynasty was happy. Naturally, this became troublesome to their landscape, which acted as though irritated. Eventually a glutinous fog descended their world, slowly at first, then gradually more thickly and menacingly. Naturally, there were varied explanations. Those in favour of the perpetual growth model said it was symptomatic of something called a ‘climate change’ and urged everyone to buy replacement products that were ‘environmentally-friendly,’ which actually had no effect on the fog but allowed more of a substance called ‘money’ to change hands ultimately into the hands of Kevni and the gang. Others claimed that the fog was just part of a cycle in the environment that would happen anyway, species-led or not, and that they should just sit it out and not give in to any of this scare-mongering tactics. However, the fog really was quite toxic, and eventually they all died fighting each other for the last habitable bits of land that had resources for living off, which eventually dwindled to none. Not even the family Kevni survived.
Kevin had just applied a cream to a troublesome spot on his shoulder which had begun to bother him recently.