Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Bukkake for the misanthropic psychonaut soul.

This is the winter of our discontent. At times, snow falls, and at times, darkness. How much longer do i seek you, o proud and taciturn, house by house, door to door? A swarm of maggots for your corpse. How much longer, corner to corner, street by street? I dont care if you dont, I wont say it if you wont say it first, I advance to attack, your terrible armies with banners, you implacable cruel beast, I cherish that coldness which makes you even more beautiful, ha doo doo doo shaking like milk turning over blue. lets go to bed. Tahir ul maulvi had it pegged just right. So, to begin.

Strapped in, launching hyperstitial metatemporal probes, beta stage boosters at maximum thrust, guidance is internal, leaving terraspheric field in t minus eleven, ten, nine, nine, nine, eight, eleven, eleven is what it was like to see the face of my own stability, wearing shadows, the reflection of my own reflection distorted and eleven, nine, eight, seven, moving me with a sound, opening me within a gesture, eleven, holding a light, lead me through each gentle step, step by step, by inch by loaded memory, thine oils, the chief spices spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, til one and one are one, eleven im heading back home, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, four, four, four-ty six and two, eleven, eleven, ignition sequence starts, six five, four, three, two, one, supernaut!

(If i were a cinnamon peeler I would ride your bed and leave the yellow bark dust on your pillow; but I being poor have only my dreams, tread softly)

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples; for I am sick of love. A book of verses underneath the bough, a jug of wine, a loaf of bread- and thou beside me singing in the wilderness. In the cities, a Lovecraftian nightmare, all steel and concrete and ineffable horror, angles that bend and warp the mind which dares conceive of their reality. But nature does not use steel. Or sharp edges. Abandoning the established paradigm of construction, we must learn to recognize the patterns in the dust, in the death throes of every moth in every flame. Tracing the spirals of the moth smoke, we are confronted with eternity.
It is in our nature to seek out the unknown, to spiral out, to ascend and evolve. Past and present, we are all made of stars. Quod sum eris, we are all in this together now. As below so above. And beyond. Restoring sight to the blind watchmaker, we must be the eyes of God, not dead but dreaming, like Cthulhu who sleeps dreaming in R'lyeh. I'a! I'a! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. The goat with a thousand young waits below, and the great hunter, above. For us it is to seek beyond.

N=R*fp*ne * Fl*fi* Tc*L

And what is life? The criteria by which we judge our surroundings must be flexible, open to change. Without change, we stagnate, rot, and decay. The Earth heaves across the heavens, marking time, the grim meathook descending ever closer, swinging over all the rot and spoilage. As we pile it ever higher and deeper, we make a leprous, desperate grab at the high blue vault of the heavens, begging for a purge, a great upheaval of the continents, the cities, the filth. Im praying for rain. A black hole sun to wash it all away, all of the everything. We must needs the cleansing waters. There are no inbound messiahs like '. (int)$value . "' and c.categories_id = cd.categories_id 君達の基地は、全てCATSがいただいた。Prep launch codes u7#
and cd.language_id='" . (int)$languages_id ."' order by sort_order, cd.categories_name D4#@ 这是bukkake录影
lock cmpxchg8b eax not a typewriter p0d b4y 9or al p;es RET o9 pod bay doors HAL! そろそろ終わりだろう ed_func_nullll$#% 42 t4k33 0f ev z0g gIz 點擊這裡得到瑞滾動 ytmn.d.

MANDALA#0: Possible thermal failure (MANDALA on fire ?)

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Still Right Here.

Hello meat puppets. Many a moon has passed since I posted here. Much of personal import has happened. I got a bachelor's degree, got a job, got into a good graduate program, left the job, left my country, had someone leave me, and had someone find me, if only for a short short while. But its been a lifetime's worth of love. And heartbreak. And learning. I'm tempted to break this post into several shorter posts, maybe I should have posted here more. But then again, if I hadn't made the mistakes I made then it wouldn’t be me sitting here typing this out (with sincere apologies to Sam Lake). And I cant keep running away from myself. Time to pay the piper and all that guff, ess? Be seeing you around.

“Seeking to forget makes exile all the longer; the secret of redemption lies in remembrance.”

Solitary Man.

This isnt a blog post. Its a cop-out. Go read something else.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008


She pwns me.

Like Astarte, Inanna, and Kali rolled into one.

I am dumbstruck, shut up and sat down by her.
She has so many facets, so many many little idiosyncrasies and details, so many beautiful ways to capture the light and simply revel in it, so much that Im lost before I can even begin to comprehend her.
When she dances, she doesn't care who's watching.
She's having fun, she's in her element, she's in the groove, all up in the zone and she dont care.
And its awesome.
I dont even want to keep up.
Im happy to just watch her move.
She strikes me stupid.
She's the kind of girl I'd walk down three miles of bad road to get to.
Eight thousand miles, if it comes to that.
'Cos she's my little china girl.
My crush with eyeliner.
The yin to my yang.
The one I'd sail my ships around.
My best friend.

And she's not perfect, no.
But she's so good she shuts me up.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Great Balls of Fire!

I am busy now. Semi-intelligible post with clever insight into my complicated creative processes to follow. soon. Meanwhile, this news story precipitated a mad rush to my workstation, so I could post a link to my blog, and illuminate you. Seriously. This could be the next big breakthrough for global warming. And to think the answer to global warming was literally right there in front of us. Truly, this is joyous news for most women (and some unfortunate men) everywhere. OMFGLOLCATS!!~

Saturday, April 26, 2008

In the future, there wil be robots.

So I'm surfing the net the other day, and I'm reading up on Ray Kurzweil and transhumanism and Kevin Warwick and awesome cool rad stuff like that right, and I'm thinking how cool it's gonna be in the future. The coming singularity and how its going to transform the very definition of what it means to be human. Powerful supercomputing devices seamlessly integrating with your mind, forming a separate 'intelligent' neural network that can interface with the myriad digital devices planted across the environment, exchanging information at hyper-real speeds, and putting us more in touch with our surroundings then we ever thought possible. Awesome. I could go on and on about it until I eventually hyperventilate and choke myself to death so instead i thought I'd blog about it, and get all the hoo ha out of my system. So I'm typing and googling away to glory, when I notice this article about something called a 'Grim Meathook Future'. Now the grim meathook future is a pretty scary concept. But what's really quite ironic, to me, as an Indian, is the fact that the global community is only now waking up to this very real state of affairs. Grim meathook future? How's about the very real, very scary, grim meathook PRESENT being inflicted upon more than half the world's population? Forget about the idiots in Israel and Palestine and the fucking morons in Afghanistan and Iraq, fighting over land and oil, what about the millions fighting for a share of food and basic human amenities in places like Somalia, Sudan, Uganda, Kashmir, Bihar, Assam, Tibet, Myanmar, North Korea, East Timor, Kosovo, fuck it, just hit google earth and pick a random spot on the globe. Its the way we are now. We're living your "future" dammit! And I'm reading all these righteous, 'aware', worried essays about the impending 'grim meathook future' and I have the irresistible urge to point and go 'ha ha' like Nelson on the Simpsons.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Soul-consumingly supermassive amounts of FAIL

In the field of human relationships, I have the maturity, patience and know-how of a 2 year old autoerotic chimp. I am a fucking moron. And an idiot. After the latest fiasco, my ego is the equivalent of a priceless ninth century Ming vase in a three stooges movie. For those of you who havent been lucky enough to ever see a three stooges movie, a) go watch one now, they're totally worth it and b) ess ess I mean its fragile. Delusions of happiness, anyone? Igor! Fetch me my time machine! No such thing you say? Oh well, bring me a quart of tequila, a pound of turkish hashish, and a welding torch. Im going to MAKE one.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Look on my sweaty bread, ye mighty, and despair.

No matter where you live or what you do, eventually, the dust gets in. The dust is everywhere, always trying to reclaim it all. It’s a constant reminder of mortality, of the fact that no matter how advanced the human race thinks it is, we're all still bound to the dust of this planet, the stuff of our origin. The gnostics knew this, they called it the qellipot, meaning the inherent impurity of all that is. The great tragedy of mass and solidity. Pure energy, the breath of the unbeheld, tainted by the filth of matter, the common dross of the world. The authors of the bible, quick to appropriate this fundamental of esoteric philosophy, reshaped it as "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.".

Indeed, from dust we came, and to dust shall we all return. But in the meantime, is it too much to ask for some respite from all this goddamned dust in my room!? I sweep, and I clean, and I wipe and still the damn stuff gets in! Some days I feel like Howard Hughes must have felt, shutting himself off from the outside world, hiding from his life, obsessively and compulsively sanitizing his room, peeing into empty milk bottles… Okay, scratch that last bit..but you get the gist of it. This morning, I could barely see the keys on the laptop for all the dust coating it!..and now I've lost my train of thought..

Oh fuck it all, I'm locked up in here writing a fucking ode to dust, and there's a ton of stuff I should be doing instead. What a waste of a perfectly good life. And then it hits me, why I started writing this piece of crap in the first place.. I saw my brand new laptop all covered up with dust, and I realized what a perfect fucking metaphor it was for my life. Like I have all these awesome tools, and skills, and instead of using them and pushing them to their limits, I'm just sitting around, wasting time, wasting breath, allowing the dust to lay claim to it all.

And when its all finally gone, I can sit on my throne of dust, and say, "Call me Ozymandias; king of kings".

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Notes From the Lunatic Fringe

I predict that in the near future, perhaps as soon as 2012, there will be an established human presence on the moon. And I predict that it will be the result of a joint indo-chinese lunar mission. Given the core importance of the moon in chinese mythology, as in Indian occultism, it wont be any surprise if the first people to actually try and establish a base on the moon are the Chinks and the Brownies. Yup. That's right, there's gonna be paan stains on the Mare Tranquillitatis, and chinese lanterns strung along the Montes Taurus. And there aint nothing you can do about it.

Being an unemployed bigot, I tend to have a lot of free time, and I use this time to surf the internet for news, comics, porn, dvd rips of movies, porn, porn, and err.. more porn.

Ahem. Yes. Well. To change the topic, here are some interesting news items from way back when (yes, 2004 is now officially "way back when". Face it buddy, you're just NOT getting younger.)

Back in 2004, the ironically named Sun Laiyan, head of the chinese space program talked about their plans for a moon mission and then just a few months ago, shazam!

Meanwhile, the Indians, still wrapped up in the whole colonial-era "truly, us brown folks are white man's burdens yes yes i am apu god save the queen hrundi v bakshi pleased to meet you thank you come again" fugue, are busy kissing american arse. But at least we're getting there.

Not to be left behind, the japs are already up there, sending back breathtaking high def images and videos such as this one.

A view of the earth from lunar orbit. Mag-fucking-nificent. Of course, it goes without saying that while we watch these videos, those sneaky buggers are planting mutant shinobi dragon ninjas all OVER the dark side of the moon.. Feh.

The message is clear, however. Those crazy Americans can stay earthbound and fight all the wars they want. We've got tickets to ride, and baby we dont care. Bring on the Rutles!!! :D

So what does all this boil down to? How is a human presence on the moon going to benefit ME, you ask. Well, to be perfectly honest with you, i could care less about sending men to the moon. Or anywhere else. I just wanted to share this hilarious little image with everyone.

Harold and Kumar go to . . . the moon.