America is Dead...Meanwhile...
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Not on American Totalitarian Radio...When it's by the numbers and sycophants propping up "power" pretending...A decoupling....New today...corporate label scam...democratic movements...people into something that isn't by the numbers....shhhhh....this is North Korea...Just Be Kind... Be Happy....Smile....Fuck off with it all...Empire of Dirt and Beyond...The New Nu-United States, like a mickey-fied concentration camp.....
R.I.P. Democratic Radio
...and I worked on music row, with artists, TN, not just country to help out people, I don't know that well...realted to them...but ultimately the model changed around the time I arrived. It's a turn off. Strictly business entirely, which even with the 80s themes and messages, sure, a network will call the shots. It's a lot of in-the-mirror type of play, but there was also this desire for the new kids arriving, their sound, something distinct, even if they didn't think or know it was there sound. There was some type of interactivity among democratic society, of free-expression, of the folks who didn't have much of anything but their own creativity creating a scene for themselves...which can also be harnessed in a way that marks a time. But the Mickey Model, patriarchical take over was in motion when I got there...so it's Britney Spears and Backstreet models...market data, by the numbers...genericide, that given a certain influence will place the music, the styles, the era, on repeat until the entirely social-cultural dynamic becomes a hollow plastic veneer of a former self, with stuck on repeat sameness that transforms the cultural flows of democratic interactivity into the cultural ice of democratic-looking sugar-pop, play it safe by the numbers, no new sound as the new sound. It's complete shit. Much like, I'm much older, so I'm not looking for some kind of expression in relation to my grouping. We are all turning grey and really I look at it...and no, it was this killswitch era for us. Grunge...to by the numbers market....and then a model of entertainment that resembles something seence in the old world models, among what is going to be the case but in such and absurdly obvious way...unless you have the money to pay up front, no, you are not "making it" of the mythology when at the end of the day music is like a business, much like selling...burgers. Still the powers were focused on movements of the time in relation to actual expressions, even if it was an act of power of moving choice artistry across the stage. And these were artists orienting toward processes not supremacist allure in the mirror. The types of minds who are definitely never going to sign up for something like American Idol. It would be a format that is the antithesis to the way in which the relate to their environment, again emphasizing process over embodiment...I think of Kieth Richards, who just was that kid learning the Delta Blues....I mean, the rest was sugar-pop nothing to the band name that even mocks the entire spectacle...Rolling Stones. They'll be the same personality just enjoying the moment, doing something they like...the rest...2 fucks kind of mentality. Let's go to the bar and let the spectacle machine have to itself type of matter. I'm not entirely sure if that may or may not be the case, but I just flip through some of the artistry in this symbolic impression narrative, and at the end of this, it is something that I want to list. Like Grunge, like Atlanta when OutKast was around, there still are these democratic activities. What has changeed with obvious manifestation, radio stuck on repeat, no movements, just by the numbers let's make a business deal in an obvious fashion artistry on stage...these movements are being scrubbed out of the American Culture machine as part of gutting out US Democracy. Yes, the music industry is a business, but that industry backed what was democratic, what was orienting toward the process, what was a new sound, a rigor of that process, that even people around would identify as democratic activity worhty of attention, worthy of acknowledgement. There was that type of matter. Is it a risk? Not really. Once the scene is opted-in, it's not like the scratchcard lanyard crew is going to argue. All just roll out the choice flavor of the era...or in my groupings era, the North Korean plastic factory by the numbers parade, which was kind of like a new kids/asian boy band/disney parade monstrosity. Meaning I've played music for decades...and the stuff that was produced...it's got market number hooks, and the verse-chorus type of construct...but in terms of rigors of process, there is absolutely no substance, even if the artists involved could do something with much more rigor. It's a North Korean style shit show with Mickey Ears dolled up as Democratic entertainment by the numbers, which isn't Democratic behavior at all. It's complete Mickey-Shit on a stick.
This stuff here, I'm not sure what to say of it. I know the key areas of entertainment activity like LA and NYC, there is popularity with this sound. The kids love it and there are personalities that seem to be able to carry the pressure cooker media machine...and still nothing. Silence. Crickets. None of this even exists. No it's that new and improved democracy as a veneer, with patriarchy at the helm, with entertaining promotions of a checkerboard, where bodies in the mirror strive to be superficially diverse, and entertainment is on different sides of the fence....new sounds do not exist, and all hair is to be cosmetically polished like topiaries....#NeverTheUnitedStates #NewUnitedStates #DemocracyasaVeneer #OtherInternationalDemocraciesasVeneersinSupport #FakeBullshitGuttingOutDemocraticScenes.....Again, a lot of interesting artistry...and yet, nothing that new on the radio...at all...Shocker. Patriarchy on the rise, with the matriarchical brew, her kids orienting toward the process, entirely being scrubbed out like ethnic cleansing because, naturally, it's all about the market numbers, even though that wasn't the American model, decades after WWII....But once that generation started passing on, it's amazing, how a new orientation toward American culture started setting fire to anything exhibiting a voice of a given democratic movement of the time...it happened before Britney and Backstreet. Mid-90s, after that woodstock...the Baudrillard DNA influence was growing strong at that time...TV as DNA for the people, not a representation of what's going on...of which the running ideas among power would involve that issue of reprentation in relation to presentation being obscured and confused, difficult to determine, so among the distortions we can embrace Baudrillard's work. A lot of it hinges on this notion of the information inundation machine, and yet, when we open up in relation to the informatic development, that obscurity would no longer remain. Movements can be represented and no, DNA, a groups ease of utilizing irrational cosmetic authority, a top-down asserted Simulacra, wouldn't be the obvious Deus Ex Machina. The informatic, the consistency measures, by design, would hold an authorative measure, a pre-justification, over post-justification cosmetic authority activities. Baudrillard's DNA isn't much of a matter any longer, especially in relation to the informatic methods developing, among which these democratic activities, these bottom-up movements among the artistry orienting toward the process can be determined, discerned, and even represented. It's just a good post, and a though I didn't explicitly articulate toward the end of this bridging, as I engage the activities of informatic arts.
You've got these kids and movements finding their own sound and their own voice, and you have this Anti-Democratic push among industry-classism, of a newly developing caste system, taht veils with the notion of in the name of the market, that is trying to scrub out all of the democratic activity. I'm old, so it's not my voice, my sound, my youth culture...but I can note of a variety of these movements, that once upon a time, among the democratic interests, the industry oriented in a way that promoted the democratic process. The given scenes were given the attention, actual risks were taken, and the new sound, the new voice, of that given era was on the main stage. Then again around Mid-90s that push for the industry machine to orent in a way that would gut out this democratic behavior, that would veneer over these activities ensued, and in this dark age, I was at a record label, put-off by the absurdity of it all, checking out entirely. There is this serious disconnect.
And again, for the networked seat of power, that that love for Baudrillard, in relation to the new and improved market model of entertainment, an imperial class push would correspond easily, again, like that of Japan or Russia, along with lines of money pumping in that can ease the American Institutional form into gutting out the behavior and joining in with these powers of accepting no longer democratic behavior but democracy as a veneer like them, which isn't democracy, it's simply winning the gear shift from WII. It's switching out agency while the American Military dogs, and industry class, of the actual democratic design, notice the switch without noting of the metaphysical plays that foster that swtich entirely. I'll never forget that social media machine ops bust in Seattle. I laughed at the entire matter, much like take note of that transition from Myspace to Facebook, college email only, to then the newer forms in the feed and the changing programming that promoted a psychology of understanding in the mirror, and the promotions of no greater good other than embodied performance, deemed good by a cosmetic authority, like Idol, American Idol, British Idol, and those demcocratic formats like star search of the masses controlling the voting entirely, not a panel, and even that differing agency or acknowleging bounded faculty, out of a womb of which we do not create, just as human as the next, of a rational constituency, of a citizenry, necessary for a greater good. I even take note of the political promotions, no longer as citizens, but as a divided camp where the American Citizen can still be a citizen with newer behavior embodying a performance for the better idea, again of that agency swtich of no greater good other than embodied performacne deemed good or bad by a cosmetic authority, that grounds into the instabilities of top-down group sentiment, of that environmental orienting design that establishes totalitarian format. It's not something readily gripped. Like the harmonies that contextualize space that color a realizable blue sky, this would be metaphysics, and like the blue of sky, that blue is very much an existence, though an intangible act, taht can easily usurp power over any country, when minds are in the mirror, loving their social media. Agency of course being that environmental ordering necesary to initiate the very process of language, of that bottom up, of some rationalizing bound, like reasoning insofar, just as human, bleeding the same, meeting of the mind first and foremost, of an authorative prejustification, of some measure that pre-justifies the use, which a consistency measure has that pre-justification. We are of a bound, so there would be a pre-justification, an authorative basis, to use such an agency that demands a meeting of the mind first and foremost, of a citizenry, of a rational constituency, with that corresponding behavior that disengaging that meeting is entirely unacceptable, of this bottom-up design of behavior. The top-down agency asserts, irrationally, there is no greater good other than embodied performance deemed good or bad by a cosmetic authority, again, grounding into the top-down instabilities of group sentiment. This is the form that will destablize inevitably, and the tired, poor, and hungry, always on the violent recieving end of that shit, came to the US and fought to have a societal design of a differing agency, which wouldn't embrace democracy as a veneer at all. Much like the irrational agency, of no greater good other than embodied performance lacks a pre-justification as to why one should embody a performance in the first place, of which the interests entirely, even among collegiate debate, in relation to Baudrillard and DNA Simulacra made a lot of sense as a lot of power and money decided against following through on the favors of the WWII generation to simply push for what's easy and convenient for them, an imperial american system embracing democracy as a veneer, the new play of cosmetic authority with their friends in other democracies as a veneer to bank roll their wishes, and when it's the era of corruption, the kids will certainly load up in the mirror and pursue (Social media, of particular designs, can help with this US agency switch)...holding the portfolios holding the industries to embrace the behaviors that will switch out the American behavior for a newer form that has nothing to do with American behavior. Meanwhile those in national security, the military, those tied to the WWII crew that lost a lot of blood, friends, and went through hell to keep America the actual societal design....have, at least in the previoius decades, done very little. It has been this oddity to me. What is going on, I'm not at all at a loss. I was around a lot of matters, and it's not hard to follow that push for a group to do this and to somehow be at a loss in relation to the changing behavior? It's easy to follow what is happening. I think the oddity of it is to observe those in charge of esnuring the US remains the US..caught up in what seems to be a chase our own tail formation, but again, when we get into metaphysics, it's intangible....there isn't this tangible affair. The battle fields are a lot of tangibles, at least the assumed visual of a battlefield would involve plays of hard power not plays of soft power...War is to be promoted visually, of which the promotions of mirrors, social media for example, have all seeing is believing and precluding the air we breathe, these processes of behavior switching out do not exist, and yet, they do, like the metaphysical blue of sky...and when kids of portfolio corruption are confident as they take note of the tail chase...but it is a serious risk and if matters get traced and highlighted...it's not going to end well for a group that attempted this in the United States...to gut out the country from the inside out, like what has been done to other old-world countries in the past...to go back to war, only playing now with soft-power play of war since these imperial powers lost the hard power game once WWII ended. And even to consider Heidegger's Being and Time, and he was with the Nazi Regime, and yet, he even highlights a lot in terms how this psychology, this metaphysical play, where families tucked away in Europe, among a long line of tradition, know how to get their hands on the right levers and play a soft-power game to destroy a country entirely, as the eyes to the surface remain at a loss as to why they have lost control. Agency influences ideas, actions, habbits, behaviors, and character...to flip the switch, run the mirroring distortion machine in such away as to promote an understanding of the world and country as ideas, actions, habbits, behaviors, and character, to remove the tacit form from consideratoin, like understanding one's distinct center of gravity to actually ride a bike, again the tacit form, something not found in a power point presentation explicitly stating how to ride a bike, that removal is easy to establish, if that is the desire, to gut everything out for the United States. All can be understood about the country in an explicit form, again, like ideas, influencing, as the basis. And yet, that explicit understanding, like acknowledging the fact, that if one never hopped on a bike before, observing the explicit information on how to ride a bike, isn't going to show one at all how to ride a bike. This is what I mean by tail chase. Where the explicit form, like the blue of paint, not the blue of sky becomes the guiding principle even for US National Security. The tacity form, the metaphysical form, never in the equation in terms of protections for the United States, of which opens the door for these finely tuned families to destroy it. When one is fighting freedom with a gun, like attempting to paint the blue sky by chunking blue paint toward it, the effort is there of course, but to fail in following the plays of soft-power battle, will leave one in their democratic endeavors (not mere visual veneer, of the same symbols with a different behavior) at a loss, as all measures, all steps taken, will by design, deliver a fruitless result as a group takes over. Even if those setting it all up, offer an easy down hill ride for those interested in national security...to be on that kind of bike with a power point presentaiton in hand, to explicitly follow what is happening to the US, to follow all matters and in that explicit way...the ease wouldn't be this assistive measure, rather the entire arrangement would certainly bloody up all that choose to walk that path. Meaning, again, if we ground into the instabilities of group sentiment, of aligning, of following explicitly without following tacitly, to adhere to the plays of cosmetic authority, to support the blue paint that colors the sky, this irrational agency that veneers as minds elevate toward the mirror, seeing is believing, by design there will be instability that occurs. The initial phase, among kids of corrpution, nice portfolios attached to their name, might seem easy and peaceful-looking, but inevitably, the repeat will come, the violence will be had, and typically it's always the newer generation that gets dealt the hellfire from those who embrace their own convenience and already followed the kids will pick up the tab...and as for sustaining the societal form, not likely if matters are permitted to continue in that veneering manner, of understanding matters in relation to explicit knowledge that will have all minds understanding matters at the idea, rather than the agency, the tacit ordering of the enviornment necessary to initiate the very process of the language, which means they understand explictly without understanding, and these powers tucked away can note matters are ripe for the picking. It's odd. This is a pattern on record, and yet, even among minds playing trivial pursuit with record, to trace the patterns, to orient toward matters tacit, the structural promotions of orienting a mind away from such tacit awareness isn't so difficult to do, and so, the violent repeat, the successful gutting out of societal forms of bottom up agency remain easily and play, and for the US, absurdly, on the verge of being entirely successful. That agency switch, of tacit design, is key.
Again, I'm doing this on the final posts, because it's simply those thoughts, in relation to Baudrillard DNA, and how informatics relates to the assertion, of somehow the information inundation machine is ringing in a new era of imperial authority in the United States, where a group can now behave like a Meiji Dynasty for the United States...that there is no alternative that reasserts bottom-up agency when there is so much mirroring distortion within the country. Just embody. It's easy. Be kind. Be happy. Don't think, of this removal of the bound, of the constituency, of the behaviors of citizenry necessary for a greater good. Rather, it's not greater good then embodying for this american imperial court on the rise, newer agency, the DNA game, in-hand, with pats on the back from their hollowed out egg-shell "democracy" friends. To succumb to this inevitable mirroring confusing, this influx of categorical splitting, to accept the erasure by a disco ball ad-infinitum, that isn't the case at all. Informatics can work with a ongoing influx of continuous informational feeds with ease and clarity, communicating clarifying ease in relation to individuals and aggregates, of which the dsign itself, the dynamic arrangement, eclipses the existing institutional forms around the world, and is very much in line with the tradition of the United States, of tracing out that unforeseen frontier, of which, the fires remain brewing, as a free society opens up to this newer process of innovation that will have significant impacts in all avenues throughout the world, in that the dynamic form of cultivation invovles the very root of all institutional foundation, and the dynamic design, very much harnessing the institutional records of tacit knowledge, including what all cultural-commercial forms wish they could have today involving real-time tacit knowledge. So again, this absurd play of my generational era among a group of aspiring to be the new american imperial fuckwits...it will fail entirely if the democratic tradition, of corresponding tradition, is re-asserted, and this budding emergence of the nest wave of innovation, very much pushed by those who follow the distinct role of the United States, to drive that innovation, so the rest of the world too can, upon significant maturities, harness and improve. Again though, when it's kids of corrpution, with nice portfolios attached to the name, and a need for the ease and laziness of convenience, these interests, this love for Baudrillard, I get IT. The soft power war seems like such an easy win for you backed by the money flows of a democracy as a veneer global imperial court. Who could possibly highlight these matters, and yet, to have such matters highlighted and to take that risks. No, I think that is a mistake without recourse. When certain people do follow, and trace these matters for themselves, it will not end well at all.
And there is this humor....I think of an MI6 agent, and MI5, CIA, FBI, or any other special ops, with surveiling cameras, algorithms, paper, etc...there is a great deal of humor in all of it, considering my work in relation to static cultivation, of matters working in a way that would veil agency and the switch of agency. One of my colleagues, her dad is the MI6, and when I was living in Scotland, she highlighted how he began working for the order and he would sit in bars. No paper, no cameras, no smartphone holding the records, nothing other than a mind of a particular style, among these interactivity between, tracing that pattern, like talking to someone among their communications of explicit understanding, not following a mind that follows their tacit developments, as they explicitly understand and communicate devoid of tacit pattern awareness. It's odd. This veiled play, of something that I remember I would talk to my grandfather about it, someone who like me, didn't like smiling before a camera instinctively. I think of even the tired, hungry, and poor of the early forms, not exactly smiling before a camera, coupled with the absurdities of no teeth, when one can still smile without showing their teeth, and yet, no smiling. No, the mirror, that play with the surface and that veiling of agency to switch matters out, to reintroduce these tired, hungry, and poor back to what they were already accustomed to, unless there is some benefit elsewhere that looking good in the mirror play, that adherence to cosmetic authority has a cost; that peace for everyone in this era of conveniences, turns violent quickly, much like we have this innovative afford, still connected to the WWII generation now leaving, and the same cosmetic apparatus around the world, with these new and improved visual morsels are here to help all understand the rewards their cosmetic authority has provided, and yet this would be off the coat-tails of a very different societal design that acutally pushed the bulk of the innovation, along with they systems that protected the intellectual property, and yet, it's a sweet song, along with money pumping to encourage something entirely different within the US...and when the innovation dries up, it's going to be the same violent shit. But when it's a moment in the sun with a pretty good flow of money, just forget all of this, be kind, be happy....no need to understand the matter all the way around...just parade with the familiar looking symbols and champion the new day, the new behavior, and the new "American" democracy as a veneer class, supported by our global friends, deemed democracies, and yet the behaviors are not democratic....shhhhh. Of which, yes, I suppose there are those desires for me to be social. I get that. Sometimes I like being social, but when we consider plays of intelligence...when one empowered with hermetic jibe can smile to your face and explicitly discern among a tacit formation that one can't even follow, nor will they ever have that capacity, but to be among a network in the mirror, and with all that money...the glinting order is to be the Order. Since when? Will be curious to see how it all works out among these glued on angel wings and plastered smiles. Seems to be a "globular" affair...sweet like POP.
And reason insofar, and cultural trajectories considered like...
R.O.A.D.W.O.R.K. -HO(L)E- -G- RABB(I)-TRY hILL (Ulysses Olive Tree) #K(no)wSymbolicImpression?LangFORE-U. #ForU #4UClover #FOREFOR4. It's Piece, not Peace, that gets some peace, and yet, innovation, the informatic, isn't exactly looking for that holding hands skipping around a flower POT moment. When the foods not hitting the table, it's the polished puckers flowering ass-up for peace, imperial plays for new clothes, that run out the door when things start heating up...I'm not bleeding the heart crooning, like Telenovela, for something entirely superficial. Simply put, gut out the innovation machine, our global cosmetic victors are going to inevitably return back to the days of showing their violent asses when the WWII wave dries up, same shit new bells and whistles can carry matters only so far. Might want to cut the cash flow democracy as a veneer fuckery and hone in on these critical changes in relation to processes underlying all institutions and all commercial endeavor that will turbo-charge everything, so long as certain kids, portfolios in-hand, skyscrapers, power grids, and what-not, aren't snorting cosmetic glory sweet nothing, but everything seems so bubbly to partner up, until it's coke without the bubbles, when the sweetness is understood fully, of this undesirable outcome, flat-lining syrupy nothing, like the flat blue of paint; It's simply POP of the TOPS, to the sky, only to climax on the ground, like an archway rainbow seeking a pot of gold at the end, only to reside among a never ending circle, running everything in-perpetuity, Tong Zi Dan, the loyal are now out of steam, out of color, not of sky but the illusions of water, a play of refraction, split the light up, employ distraction, the eyes will see...lights out. It's not like a particular Ordering wouldn't follow these matters but do get your cameras and papers out...agents unite. All follow and in that way...much like the artistry on American radio emphasized the democratic design in the past, that would be well in-tune to this new form of entertainment by the numbers associated with cosmetic-authoritarian form actually means. Why have songs about a Happy House Sioux and the Banshees, when we now can have Karma? One form engaged the design of democratic citizenry, to engage the critical regard among the entertainment, while the other does entertain, and yet, in that religious-military feel-good, the sentiment is your new foundation, as the new way of the land is to be always on the rise, like a manic smile among the North Korean games Goosestepping to fuck off.
Having a Ball...
Colonial-Category [Language Arts]
Informatic-Relational [Informatic Arts]
One is a fixed state...simply a ball...The other a dynamic state morphing into a variety of forms....next stop....something emphasizing the informatic art over the language art...both will be in use, but in relation to the informatic....all among the colonial category, in-question, perpetually. The informatic the basis for thinking. The colonial simply raw material developing toward the informatic.
Informatic-Relational [Informatic Arts]
One is a fixed state...simply a ball...The other a dynamic state morphing into a variety of forms....next stop....something emphasizing the informatic art over the language art...both will be in use, but in relation to the informatic....all among the colonial category, in-question, perpetually. The informatic the basis for thinking. The colonial simply raw material developing toward the informatic.
Just a little fun colonial narrative run...post-model
the informatics art is the focus...the model is already in, but this is a lot of fun for me...and also playing with pop culture as symbolic expression an interest and inform...that play of synthesis...it reminds me of a deaprtment I desired from the University of Birmingham UK...It would have been my first choice, but oddly the department was gutted...so I'm trying to figure out how to...just make anything work...much like the performatives within a collegiate setting were used often, not as mere entertainment, but rather to deliver a form, involving both explicit and tacit development....and this is something I can do...which the symbolic impression among pop culture, in relation to running a model has been the most interesting test of all. I didn't think the model would be able to make much out of it, but the consistency measure did work it out. The tacit binder I wasn't so sure, but then the model, in relation to what I was saying, aligned nicely...of the very fact that still, even after years, informatic arts, among the needed storm, norm, form, in this day and age where it is to be Universal and Utopic, no longer free and open, to have this opportunity to play around with newer institutional design, when it is to be all done under the sune, even as that observably is a lie, it is clear...nothing shall open up....it isn't to be a free and open society, no democracy with corresponding behavior, just democracy as a veneer, like other democracies as a veneer who are pumping money into organizations of righteousness to gut out the basis of citizenry in this country in favor of subjectship, to embody for a cosmetic authority, to only exist on the basis of sentiment, like kindness and happiness, and as for the context, as for a meeting of the mind, as for the very basis of consistency, of reaosning insofar, out of a womb one did not create, bleeding just the same...break that mindful meeting, disengage, disengage....there is to be no greater good you see....that foundation for the greater good, that bound, faculties bounded, reasoning insofar, just as human as the next....no longer...no there is no greater good other than embodied performance deemed good or bad by a cosmetic authority, grounding the psychology into the instabilities of group sentiment, that inevitably falls, destablizing a society, as a group strives for victory...it's a real shit fuck show...but among these POP symbolic expressions, we've explored such themes many times over, and the purpose was to establish a model test...post tacit binder addition...it's pretty neat....it really does work even in those strangest of narrative forms....and I kind of don't want to stop in many ways because I am having a lot of fun with this. Videos and narrative performatives like the kritique play in collegiate debate...it's just a lot of good memories...and a lot of interesting flows....but the informatic arts has been established...and even the first book constantine's sword among this modeling, so time to transition...though I might come back to this again....for now though....on to a modeling site....will create soon....and there will be more fuckwitted chats among certain fuckwitted types who are too smart for their own good, and yet, who am I to them...I mean, I was assessed....did pretty fucking good when I needed too, and no, I'm not aiming to make the grade, like a fellow student, as we stood among the top 5 in our class in highschool, noting of some interesting behaviors in relation...doesn't seem like a good idea to make the grade all the time...think John Lennon a day in the life, among other songs involving the Beatles...of which Me and a certain other kindred one listend too and not for the nice sounding ditties...seems like sometimes there's a message among the face value symbols that dig in a little deeper if one even attempts to try...seems like few do....hmmm...I'm moving on
I care but among the fuckwitted shitshow shitfire extravaganza bonanza...I mean your mommy and your daddy might love you...you might give yourself and impromptu pass to being the k(no)wer, and yet, never upon that needed assessment, but your fast-track self-professed ambitions...it's odd to me...I wouldn't find hatred among any of this behavior...I can't even say I hate it. I'm simply astounded at the changes. Once upon a time, to even flinch in that direct, everyone would come out of the wood work to pistol whip a fuckwhit back into their avenue...if they are there to be THAT, then by all means, put in the effort and make the grade, and hopefully if one gets it, one will make the grade in a way that doesn't set them up for a type of success that isn't so...alive. I would simply say, in terms of the dirt empire, take from it only what you need. If you have a family, you'll need a bit more...if you are me, single, artist type, very very little is required...and as for this work among the rigors of process...yes for certain folks who are universal to all...this is simply a waste...of course, we've got it...if it is not in the mirror, if it's not celebrating the mirror, then it is a waste, for the universal, thinking is just too much, told you so....I can't fight your battle for you...and when one doesn't even follow that battle and one is invested in the very dirt empire that will abandon, think NIN HURT, even that...It's not going to be this ha ha told you so type of thing...it's a real shit stick....and most people don't pull out until they reach that death bed and it's a shock to the system...I'm not going to have any sense of gratification with that....it's evil....even while it's good for not...it's fucking evil...and the encouragements to keep it espresso machiato....to keep it too busy to even ponder that moment and maybe a need to switch some gears for something more balanced and tuning into something other than a glinting distortion that is soon to break away....these reinforcements...among this play with narrative, I do interact with these themes...these personalities dolled up, veiled, loving all, and yet, to consider...like Aesop Checkers...to catch on to the full-line play...no, it's not something good in any way, shape, or form, to me or to anyone else tracing out the process of behavior...not in the mirror...So one can prey...that's just that...I'm back downstairs, among the informatic arts (murdering the colonial murder disco ball), the non-literals, the paintings....that's what i mean, by this don't care anymore Pop symbolic impression.
I care but among the fuckwitted shitshow shitfire extravaganza bonanza...I mean your mommy and your daddy might love you...you might give yourself and impromptu pass to being the k(no)wer, and yet, never upon that needed assessment, but your fast-track self-professed ambitions...it's odd to me...I wouldn't find hatred among any of this behavior...I can't even say I hate it. I'm simply astounded at the changes. Once upon a time, to even flinch in that direct, everyone would come out of the wood work to pistol whip a fuckwhit back into their avenue...if they are there to be THAT, then by all means, put in the effort and make the grade, and hopefully if one gets it, one will make the grade in a way that doesn't set them up for a type of success that isn't so...alive. I would simply say, in terms of the dirt empire, take from it only what you need. If you have a family, you'll need a bit more...if you are me, single, artist type, very very little is required...and as for this work among the rigors of process...yes for certain folks who are universal to all...this is simply a waste...of course, we've got it...if it is not in the mirror, if it's not celebrating the mirror, then it is a waste, for the universal, thinking is just too much, told you so....I can't fight your battle for you...and when one doesn't even follow that battle and one is invested in the very dirt empire that will abandon, think NIN HURT, even that...It's not going to be this ha ha told you so type of thing...it's a real shit stick....and most people don't pull out until they reach that death bed and it's a shock to the system...I'm not going to have any sense of gratification with that....it's evil....even while it's good for not...it's fucking evil...and the encouragements to keep it espresso machiato....to keep it too busy to even ponder that moment and maybe a need to switch some gears for something more balanced and tuning into something other than a glinting distortion that is soon to break away....these reinforcements...among this play with narrative, I do interact with these themes...these personalities dolled up, veiled, loving all, and yet, to consider...like Aesop Checkers...to catch on to the full-line play...no, it's not something good in any way, shape, or form, to me or to anyone else tracing out the process of behavior...not in the mirror...So one can prey...that's just that...I'm back downstairs, among the informatic arts (murdering the colonial murder disco ball), the non-literals, the paintings....that's what i mean, by this don't care anymore Pop symbolic impression.
The Disco Ball Machine Talk-Talk, as one understands...meanwhile
Fuck the Talk-Talk to No Doubt cultural shift...
She's making no sense...our disco ball language told us so...I mean his image supports us, so fuck her....Meanwhile, the informatic will emerge...the rest of this dancing on a cave wall is fuckery...but she still needs to be fucked...so understand her today...again..and again...smiling angels...good littel sons and daughters...on parade...in the mirror....chicken vs egg, Ukraine vs Russia, Israel vs Palestine, Jew vs Muslim, Poor Black vs Poor White brought to you by Rich Black vs Rich White (hand in hand gunning shhh) veiled with a superficial diversity rainbow flag and other Rich friends (we prefer money over human regard but as a minority in the mirror, not marginalized, but speaking for, we are here to support humanitarian endeavor as we run a blood hustle and traffick whoever the fuck we please, guiding the dirty bitch magin to the dirty money hustle that floats our laundering, tax evasion, and breaks for him among a very different kind of break for her...when it's so in the mirror looking the nice-nothing part) shhhhh...the GINI Coefficient is a lie...meanwhile the dichotomies are caught up among the struggle, poor-dears, nothing in between...live tonight, this just in, on the television screen...you got it first from us...you now understand...why question when it looks so...officious, professional, upgright, and cosmetically clean...our meek, mild, and humble wolves will find a resolve for the bombs they just dropped...like clean hands before the temple, the blood is nowhere to be found even as the message hustles her to a death, shhh...just recieve the storyline....be worried...and give all your apathetic concerns even as you are entirely full of shit...Just go along angels...it's just that easy...you are peace, love, and harmony, as you pile on to the violent machine...this is your time...loving all...
And when it's espresso machiato America...I mean, you want the money and the cartesian sieve is now the new and improve master of everlasting delight...I mean yeah okay so what the fuck do we do...we can either run with this matriarchical bitch...she can't get anymore American radio play...New York gentrified the fuck out of her...all grids gentrified the fuck out of her...she likes elegant decay but he just plastered the next round of Marilyn Monroe lipstick on her sad and depressed suicidal ass cause she can't get a damn thing from him, even has he plays it looks like he gives all of the fucks, wtih no give a fucks to spare...just so little time and of course the espresso machiatos on his plan, little time to even follow...so it's get fucked up with her...or be kind, be happy, be all the love one can muster...aka fake mirror bullshit...It's OKOJ Joose regardless...So I'm going for the get access option to that lesser of two evils offering date night with an ATM...
I mean, yeah he's coming for my family's ass, the next round...I'll be dead and gone by that time, even if I am dead today...I mean...I'm a good fucking person...I love with all my damn heart...I work my ass off...I've subsribed...how it all works...we got no time...it looks good, so fuck it...and....uh...but tonight is my night..fuck IT. I'm getting paid bitch...We running that polarity principle...freeze that bitch out with the nice as ice plan...we on that snatch cash plan...Piece...I mean to be this angelic, we got to afford some fucking tints...it's that look of the new and improved angelic order...no image accept His Image...that secrecy is important...we'll price her out, gut her out of a job, and then let her understand her place with a different kind of Tent...
To live in this fucked up country...at least it looks good...fuck...He's Wild...She's Wild...ER-Ness...Loch-Ness...reflections of mystery and wonder...half-present, half-FCD (capable citizens on that shot sling plan)...Tone Locs and Tone Deafs...Violent and Funky for all...kind of like freedom but Free-Dom...where the wild wild-things are....Why Buck the bucks...She's meat...just let him have his way...culture by the numbers is our friend...get your goosestep on today...Utopia in the mirror and beyond...Russia privatized, not privatized, hold checks for privatized shares, oligarchs, pumping money into American churches, christian social party to nazism...just fucking smile fuckers...it's money to night, so fuck it. Let the next crew pick up the violence....what even fucking read when we can simply love...When we can k(no)w we don't k(no)w, when we can in our fuckery question what she doesn't k(no), in that clever fuckwitted fashion that smacks of paralyzing ignorance...so it's all just a disco ball play...even among newer institutional form...even as the reflection at the surface breaks up, upon her emergence...you got this...your TINTS will protect you entirely...disengage, disengage...in his image and beyond...it's going to work, even among the visuals of an informatic model...plastered smile, distortion brains unite...it's all just so...this all isn't necessary when you can just be among the sentiments...be happy...be kind..what's so wrong about that...North Korea? Totalitarian regime... Somebody's got a money pump in the American chruches...the shitless are full of shit...This is just too hard...can AI figure this out for me...OMG, that social media post....I don't see anything wrong...it all looks fine...like the German Olympics...I mean who doesn't support world piece and humanity for all...and I mean when it can be used in such a fucked up way again...orienting toward the process...tracing the behavior...I can't see it in the mirror...it's just not easy enough...I'll float at the surface while the depths catch everything up into a violent surprise...and as for her emergence among the newer institutional form...it's just not going to be so serious...He told me so...I believe...it's just easier that way...sorry not sorry....fuzzy love nothing...nice as ice for everyone...been here before...shhhhh....I'm trying to enjoy my espresso machiato....among these conveniences...among these visuals...among this massaging psychology...if I can't see it, no need to worry....the violence comes later....SMILE...OMG, it's MICKEY! Bubblin' TINTS for all...Son Spots everywhere...just go with this fine hour of a need for ease...Imaginal discs....bunny cave room echoes...reflections upon....
Considering Christian Social Party to Nazism....
Since some of the steeple creeple wants to carry on even in relation to me like they are the shitless saviors to all...the first informatic arts model will be the following:
Enjoy! And there are many more books that we could model in relation to the not so polished look of those playing it angel in the mirror, and it's not to say all do this...but those who skipped the books and could give 2 fucks, coupled with people who are too busy to see what their not so stuidous members will do to others...it does come at a cost...it always has...of which I mean sure there is a need for commercial endeavor, but to let someone carry on as if calculating infinity is holding the very power of infinity, to the point of massaging one toward violent disregard...go fuck yourself...including your bullshit humanitarian photo-ops, shining bright, leaving something a little less for everyone else...decoded flows code the machine...the winners winning big, and in that fucked up way...got get em peace for violence. Everyone loves you, for the sycophants (who love your money even though the couldn't possibly and yet the decisions they made in relation) told you so. As the organization of chickenry, commercial be a star endeavor, targets the tradition of eggry, just stack the avenues against each other...get the wolves in the mirror representing the tradition to arrange the antagonisitic hell...the eggs will be goosestepping into chickens in no time as the fight against...wolves veiled in sheeps clothing setting up the fight ready to come in for piece..Maybe the Jews started it? Maybe the Muslims started it? Christians? Never! Cousin in Moscow? It's all totally fucking innocent...just a best of intentions sheeple who among the needed mannerisms couldn't be anything other than the kindest of all fucking angels...as the blueprints for the gunning down of poor dears ensues...Ukraine vs Russia and nothing in-between, for the TV lets us know...shhhhhh....This just in, the she in-between, of ties across borders, among villages that were living in peace, are now fighting...as for how it all got started shhh...it's Russia vs Ukraine...and her design, these poor dears, are all caught up in a pickle of a dichotomy sandwhich....who should she ever turn to as he bank rolls off her bitch ass....oh yes, the same fuckers who set up the killing fields to begin with....mild-mannered, meek, humble...they are now back...ready to bring all back to world piece...how fucking lovely...Ulysses Dual Roadwork stuck on repeat...cartesian sieves unite...tong zi dan spaghetti topped with green eggs and ham....Sam, I am...
When HE IS, as Her institution emerges...to focus in on this fine play, this experience as the light changes...by all means HE IS, simply smile and give that look like we give a fuck angle...we got you entirely....
I mean, when he's living it up in the mirror...nice-cool assholes making the world a better place, as pieceful little angels in the mirror...to consider the experience as he thrives upon her expense....patriarchy to matriarchy....just smile, play nice, talk-talk, still...it's going to work....we promise...run it checkerboard...run it kkk-uncle tom...white and black, eyes to the surface, understand on such a visual materialized basis...calico cat of love...not without la migra....something about a need for borders...Dual.....Destruction...shhhh....skyscrapers...electric grids...human trafficking....humanitarian galas...Wolves in Sheeps' clothing dolling up Sheep in Wolves' clothing...I mean when we are so far deep in the mirror looking that part...surely among all the earth angels, surely, you really are an angel, and yet by design, no...no you are not. Something is entirely off. He is and she can't even get play on the American radio...NYC is now the Big AppleBees...and we still are to pretend...
American Radio by the Numbers is so fucking amazing...in the meantime though...
once upon a time before the American caste system took hold and classism became the new and emerging KING....
She had her own artists upon the American waves among free society, not to be confused with religious-military state antics, among freedom shirts and crosses as the new democratic veneer with an entirely new behavior...north Korean games and beyond...with Mickey's happy house of death camp fun down the road...of a budding design that would bring a tear to even the subtlest of totalitarian regime....HE IS....HE FUCKING IS...her artistry never to make the air waves again...fuck it all...grunge at a minimum...OutKast at a minimum...we might sell the T-Shirt, otherwise just be nice and buy our shit....Be Happy, be the subject of sentiment we so desire her to be...meeting of the mind....oh fuck no, but we are here to give you a cool nice courtesy call regardless...your gullible bitch ass will love that....at least after we talk that's how our bullshit smiling faces in the mirror will run the intelligence...go ahead...act like we are getting along...we are here to make that assist entirely...and as for what comes around...shhh...we'll just keep smiling and running the daggers in the back hustle...it's totally going to work....not build up to that evil bullshit playing it up as earth angel in the mirror...no come around whatsoever....Pretend...Let us Prey....At best, she'll sport his symbol...HE IS...the skyscrapers...the material...the electric grids...the portfolios...and as for emerging institution and the innovative afford...to carry on as we can fuck with her as we please and without fire and fury in relation...again though among this fine hour of colonial institution...look....devil talk...the snake devouring the disco ball...shadow show language, her existence...the path certain, and yet among dynamic medium...that play no longer even as HE IS pretends. Quick dial up the Big AppleBee...Rock-Y-Fellahs will protect you...as the light among the calico lovers delight is to fade straight to hell...no more matriarchical presenation on American Radio...the entire opposite of all of the 60s, 70s, and 80s artistry...she is to die...it is a new day for angelic living death running the dualistic killing machine...as long as it is over the pond and never to be acknowledged among American borders....surely the same group among a viet-controversy will never re-emerge...just play nice...that's what addressed it...just go along...no need to be proactive, to embrace innovation, to reassert anything other than that fake-ass HE IS measure. Total bullshit, but when it's the money game that is the trajectory for all...do you want an education for a career....I mean after all that's what education is entirely about...a career...we've come so far in the US, far removed from the WWII generation...and yet, we k(no)w....HE IS and she's a dirty bitch....erase her in every way. No more radio...No more Big Apple, just fake smiles and sedated lives as the trajectory of violence begins to return...a path of least resistance totally works out when it hasn't ever...but when it's time for the angels in the mirror to deliver all to this fine play of let helldom ring...your body made the cut...his image approves...it's so easy for you...fucking live it up to her death...it's going to be ALLLLL good....crosses to hypatia...christian social party to nazism...violent his-tories among her-steries....shhhhhh....just live it up...this is your time...smile earth angel....look like you give a fuck, 2 fucks...we got you entirely...
And this New New York...like a Bubblegum Dog Luvvbazaar. (double bubble POP)...because the suburbs having the rest of the country isn't enough...fuck her out of her existence...fuck her out of new york...sanitize...bring a night out with your grandma to times square...quick bring Alicia Keys and new york in the mirror to all... the kind of play that had all the club kids...the pulse of a once thriving area the fuck out and away...where, who knows...but the fuck out of that bullshit...but still the Big Apple (bees) shh, by the numbers....your favorite DNA simulacra, new york as veneer on the way, live, like sex in the city, which has to be the real sex in the city, like real housewives, like real world, that reads like....not real....but shhh...this is the real shit...this is the real fucking deal...this is POP top dogs, like stick sweet lips after the hot air finally releases....flat blue paint for the blue sky...painting the town rainbow sweet, like coke without the bubbles....America the fucked...new and improved...alive...like a limp dick blue pill special....she's swollen from death, but we'll call that a pulse...he can fill in, just give him the auto-tune and the by the numbers routine...this age of the North Korean games is IT. This US is fucking awesome, even if it reads like your grandma's panties from the 80s...I mean it looks like the 80s...we are totally as fucking cool, even if the simulacra nothing is our new dick master...so it's a blue pill....it worked for the matrix, it can work for us...fuck it, while we fuck it all...rigor mortis, safe and sound, love for all...when the culture is this fucking easy...surely no one will ever be caught with their dead dick in hand and pants around their ankles...it's always going to stay together, like Mickey Magic...even if we are fucked...we look the part...as for challenges emerging that we can't even keep up with...smile angels...pretend with us...we are weak bullshit but you can call us your masters...not need to consider, just feel the love in your heart purrr and mindlessly so....we can be the North Korea upon a hill of freedom...that's what the US has always been about...we promise....you can even drop by and visit your imperial court at the Big AppleBee....
American Radio by the Numbers is so fucking amazing...in the meantime though...
once upon a time before the American caste system took hold and classism became the new and emerging KING....
She had her own artists upon the American waves among free society, not to be confused with religious-military state antics, among freedom shirts and crosses as the new democratic veneer with an entirely new behavior...north Korean games and beyond...with Mickey's happy house of death camp fun down the road...of a budding design that would bring a tear to even the subtlest of totalitarian regime....HE IS....HE FUCKING IS...her artistry never to make the air waves again...fuck it all...grunge at a minimum...OutKast at a minimum...we might sell the T-Shirt, otherwise just be nice and buy our shit....Be Happy, be the subject of sentiment we so desire her to be...meeting of the mind....oh fuck no, but we are here to give you a cool nice courtesy call regardless...your gullible bitch ass will love that....at least after we talk that's how our bullshit smiling faces in the mirror will run the intelligence...go ahead...act like we are getting along...we are here to make that assist entirely...and as for what comes around...shhh...we'll just keep smiling and running the daggers in the back hustle...it's totally going to work....not build up to that evil bullshit playing it up as earth angel in the mirror...no come around whatsoever....Pretend...Let us Prey....At best, she'll sport his symbol...HE IS...the skyscrapers...the material...the electric grids...the portfolios...and as for emerging institution and the innovative afford...to carry on as we can fuck with her as we please and without fire and fury in relation...again though among this fine hour of colonial institution...look....devil talk...the snake devouring the disco ball...shadow show language, her existence...the path certain, and yet among dynamic medium...that play no longer even as HE IS pretends. Quick dial up the Big AppleBee...Rock-Y-Fellahs will protect you...as the light among the calico lovers delight is to fade straight to hell...no more matriarchical presenation on American Radio...the entire opposite of all of the 60s, 70s, and 80s artistry...she is to die...it is a new day for angelic living death running the dualistic killing machine...as long as it is over the pond and never to be acknowledged among American borders....surely the same group among a viet-controversy will never re-emerge...just play nice...that's what addressed it...just go along...no need to be proactive, to embrace innovation, to reassert anything other than that fake-ass HE IS measure. Total bullshit, but when it's the money game that is the trajectory for all...do you want an education for a career....I mean after all that's what education is entirely about...a career...we've come so far in the US, far removed from the WWII generation...and yet, we k(no)w....HE IS and she's a dirty bitch....erase her in every way. No more radio...No more Big Apple, just fake smiles and sedated lives as the trajectory of violence begins to return...a path of least resistance totally works out when it hasn't ever...but when it's time for the angels in the mirror to deliver all to this fine play of let helldom ring...your body made the cut...his image approves...it's so easy for you...fucking live it up to her death...it's going to be ALLLLL good....crosses to hypatia...christian social party to nazism...violent his-tories among her-steries....shhhhhh....just live it up...this is your time...smile earth angel....look like you give a fuck, 2 fucks...we got you entirely...
And this New New York...like a Bubblegum Dog Luvvbazaar. (double bubble POP)...because the suburbs having the rest of the country isn't enough...fuck her out of her existence...fuck her out of new york...sanitize...bring a night out with your grandma to times square...quick bring Alicia Keys and new york in the mirror to all... the kind of play that had all the club kids...the pulse of a once thriving area the fuck out and away...where, who knows...but the fuck out of that bullshit...but still the Big Apple (bees) shh, by the numbers....your favorite DNA simulacra, new york as veneer on the way, live, like sex in the city, which has to be the real sex in the city, like real housewives, like real world, that reads like....not real....but shhh...this is the real shit...this is the real fucking deal...this is POP top dogs, like stick sweet lips after the hot air finally releases....flat blue paint for the blue sky...painting the town rainbow sweet, like coke without the bubbles....America the fucked...new and improved...alive...like a limp dick blue pill special....she's swollen from death, but we'll call that a pulse...he can fill in, just give him the auto-tune and the by the numbers routine...this age of the North Korean games is IT. This US is fucking awesome, even if it reads like your grandma's panties from the 80s...I mean it looks like the 80s...we are totally as fucking cool, even if the simulacra nothing is our new dick master...so it's a blue pill....it worked for the matrix, it can work for us...fuck it, while we fuck it all...rigor mortis, safe and sound, love for all...when the culture is this fucking easy...surely no one will ever be caught with their dead dick in hand and pants around their ankles...it's always going to stay together, like Mickey Magic...even if we are fucked...we look the part...as for challenges emerging that we can't even keep up with...smile angels...pretend with us...we are weak bullshit but you can call us your masters...not need to consider, just feel the love in your heart purrr and mindlessly so....we can be the North Korea upon a hill of freedom...that's what the US has always been about...we promise....you can even drop by and visit your imperial court at the Big AppleBee....
And it's amazing how as you fucker her over, she begins to highlight all of these fine arrangements, and how it all goes down among these sheep-like humanitarian types...and it wasn't enough to fuck her over in general, now, the crew is to fuck her out of her own city, Nueva York...the new suburban design has arrived...the his image crew the new existence for a city once upon a time in-tune to those always on the run trying to find a fucking home...now the US can join in on the HE IS campaign...old world new world unite...the limelight...now the white light boutique zone of sanitized sugary coke without the bubbles affair...the clubs among the clubs...no longer around...it's safe and sound...it's oh captain, my captain for her...and New York at of all places, which means she'll have no place....just keep fucking running...
But again, this is simply etching a measure in relation to the newer institutional design emerging...something that records the interactive process...something that can demostrate even visually the rigors of process, rather than succumbing to lazy cosmetic horseshit playing with mirrors....on that winners quit and quitters win routine...with processes on record...that fine hour ends...but not without the existing smidgen of let's just keeping doing whatever the fuck for our sake routine as we know it today...It's your time. He is. Sure thing. Praise your angels, look the part, and fuck off with everything...we got it...we got you...no worries...do whatever you like.
EleVader Music
Setting up the informatic arts site...likely this site frame with a new address....AND....informatic design....in the meantime...Let us?....EleVade....
Featuring, Tin-Man adventures and the fearless, loyal, angels looking for their payout, uhhh, oppor(tune)ITies....Song Bird inc... ...Meat the L' Étranger...
Pop, Pop, Pop....POP-EEES.....Something....CAT-I(r)ON-Y-LIST--Oxford Prance to America....to be, or not to be, on the run...that is the question....we didn't start the fire...this red rose speedway is yours...of "his image" pin-nacles (white light (r)Os), Of "her no eyes" bleeding bitch drain U (ringling around rosie, the red, pockets full)....
Sign up the angels in the mirror, for them it's so easy to be good, just shine leaving everyone else with a little less...shh, you don't think, you don't care to think, but you love....shhh....blessed are these fine puuur den hearts....so loving in that look the part manner...surround the poor-dears, drop the bombs where planned, political puppets of Kompromat on the stage leading, dualized form (nothing in-between), update the angels live from the television screen (Psych plays, seeing is believing therefore the air we breathe doesn't exist, tracing process of behavioral design, it's not seeing, it doesn't exist...shhhh...just feel the purr Den Glory...live in his image...be the reason for theviolent season...ANGELS)...dichotomy sandwhiches inc...We are the sweet, sweet, world...Let's dance....the fine hour dance (the movtive? see Read)....decoded flows code the machine (to be among desirable tiers, among an undesirable framing, a violent architecture constructed with a fun-look. Son, Sun, Son, and even more Sun....looks like things are lighting up...the stage is set...all is well all is bright)...invest...invest social organs...desire...revolutionary desire...
At least London has a smidgen of a pulse left....I mean, when he can be so victorious and without question...All that money...plastic pyramids...heart on top....this is your time killers...give the purrr den all you got...White Light...it's worked time and time again, and yet, the newer institutional design entering the stage...what, by design, that does and she re-entered, regardless of your play...pretend...pretEND.....I mean with so many skyscrapers and electric grids to your name...all will worship you of course...and yet, the innovative afford...even among the ages of a distant past...so this is your time to live it up as gods in the mirror when she afforded that very measure...by all means...here get another fuckwit to take her to a Ulysses Opera...by all means...Thrive like a Honey Hive...it must "feel" so good and as for what comes around...well it doesn't have to be acknowledged just yet...so keep IT ROCK steady freddy...as SHE goes...HE IS in the mirror...among his Angels who love and make it, it's so easy, violent as a non-violent earth angel can be...shhh.....as long as they don't know...the purrrrrr feels so fucking good....the love of a White Light elation, and yet, if they ever figure out how they are being used...that violent measure that has been smearing blood across the world, among those who wouldn't even fathom hurting someone...back to that ancient mystery...those who killed not allowed....sparta....athens...resentment....always the same fight dolled up as a different time and yet remaining....HE hates....SHE questions....There was never any love to begin with...this just in, even as He preaches all you need is love....He's spinning the universal world piece like a killswitch killing machine, She's opening up the room for doubt and the developments he can't readily map...when the institutional measure is there, the record that traces the process beyond mere static embodiment...SHE IS...does he even quite follow what just happened here...I mean with all that material and money deemed as a means to power...surely he is the safeguared, and yet....
and again, send junior to father, crosses to hypatia, little miss Industry to HIS IMAGE brigade...it's totally going to workout as you pretend...and I need to fight at this point, when this is a matter of design...SHE IS...it's simply a messenger to a message, even if HE wants to pretend...she's back and there is nothing he can do about that, materialized endeavor and all...but gain, do pretend...role-play...She knows his every move, and among her institution, he's going to understand her fuck, like a no 3 eyes for a fourth kind. Gum drop eyes as the third eye? He can always try. When she arives and he's sized up, it's not as if a rock to the ocean really does anything other than feed away at the seas that feed...so attempt to be the seed, she'll sea...even among your tong zi dan tea play...to have that moment, that time, that era, and yet to encounter a watery grip that was inevitable...no lightning...rooting the lightning play into an entirely different form of institutional development...She has, officially, arrived by design....a medium cultivated by dynamic arrangement....static cultivation languages around the world to the wayside...but by all means do pretend...IT is expected...as those emerging into power engage this newer matter...
Featuring, Tin-Man adventures and the fearless, loyal, angels looking for their payout, uhhh, oppor(tune)ITies....Song Bird inc... ...Meat the L' Étranger...
Read helmET Ulysses & the Dualing Split-Branch Olive Tree
Sign up the angels in the mirror, for them it's so easy to be good, just shine leaving everyone else with a little less...shh, you don't think, you don't care to think, but you love....shhh....blessed are these fine puuur den hearts....so loving in that look the part manner...surround the poor-dears, drop the bombs where planned, political puppets of Kompromat on the stage leading, dualized form (nothing in-between), update the angels live from the television screen (Psych plays, seeing is believing therefore the air we breathe doesn't exist, tracing process of behavioral design, it's not seeing, it doesn't exist...shhhh...just feel the purr Den Glory...live in his image...be the reason for the
(....interesting matter, Ghislaine, to be born into this, like many, simply, born into this...the red rose speedway is all oUrs, and without much choice, side-step and a networked death will be yours....a trajectory, a dance long before there was a TV, before there was a Gutenberg press...considerations among the Rock-Y Playhouse among Nathan Fhur and that Ulysses Opera...Oh Penelope...well we do have the cross-hairs on her, Oh Captain, My Captain...Meanwhile a newer institutional design, eclipsing thousands of years of institutional measure, no longer cultivated by static medium, but rather the institutional basis cultivated upon dynamic medium....I suppose this could be a minor affair, but it isn't at all....It's the most significant matter this fine dance has ever encountered...but we can ALL smile and pretend...business as usual...seems like a sure-fire convenient way of making IT, but that opt-out...the relegation, like a rigor mortis among the living moment is assured....but what do I follow...I'm just a produce employee, and yet, I love what I do....along with painting and running...of the process, differing from supremacies of allure, including humanitarian horseshit in the mirror shining the dual for the new and improved killing field they can "assist" yet again, and again, and again....rinse the blood and repeat....)
Quick get the tie-dies...get the piece signs...bag ....bREAD......sunbeams (Birdy Rockets) save, no hell in sight, so fuck it...blood orange...unicorn tapestry...5 senses...5 points to be a STAR....RISE....look all that $$$....Quick Post-IT, social media is entirely your free-DOM....no violence here at all...See....LOOK....MICKE(tea)Y.....Snicket...a series of unfortunate events....
Eurovision winner 2025 & that Theme...(Tong Zi Dan...Spaghetti... when it's all staged for a new wave of...Olive trees near the waterline....Eleusinian Mysteries....Demeter...Aphrodite and a foot upon....World Piece....Quick America protect your borders....Russia, just keep fighting okay (poor dear blood works for the lead stories, just kill them, the wolves with the same symbols gutting out the behavior will veil in the mirror with superficial diversity, humanitarian-ish endeavor, piece talks (bomb droppers striving to repair) as we embrace the sweet, sweet, song of world piece...like a Sucker)...see KILLING JOKE'S Ulysses and the Split-Branch DUAL....
As for ancient families tucked away running the show (her ancient order playing a little game of cat-dog ring around)....pockets full...shhhh....I mean to be among "American Free-Dom" as the tucked away bank-roll on this ignorant bullshit...STRIVE Money-making fuckers! You're making IT! ....Joose.....and to be among so many grid castles...bouncing around...like fucking a petrified turd....
Meanwhile...just something that....when the light has changed...dynamic arrangement, of a flip of the institutional arrangement entirely....thousands of years eclipsed....shhhh.....I mean when it all needs to go POP! Business as usual....Angel Eyes Unite...Drop the good word...Spin her into a web of violence, as the killers unite in the mirror in kind and loving piece. This imaginal disc, So many Colors, U-CRANE, Read Room Killers (roll dichotomy sandwich nothing in between, Cousin Moscow planning committee...poor dears in-beween, got the blood-list, checking it twice, get ready for the news line, heads on a line, this JUST-ICE in...destruction-construction $$$ what is our function, yes, world peice striving to understand for a better tomorrow of course...so many borders...no in-between...I wonder What's up...bird is the word, on a wire (that song), Eleu-Sive Mysteries, Bloodshed not permitted, A needed Cage as revenge, Her, upon his image spire), hOMe. Ancients on parade...Artistry celebrating his VIC-Trol(l)a-Tory, as she has yet to return...He dances in the mirror, until she emerges, yet again....reasons insofar, QUICK, murder disco ball...and that matter of dynamic medium cultivation, an institutional emergence....shhhhhhhh...sit down and talk with her, give her hollow niceties, praise the gullible bitch...maker her out as the star, 5-Point Unicorn Tapestry STAH, the superMON...get those hustle bones out her mouth .....dancing disco murder ball queen....(X-Apply tin-man ops) and on the colonial record, static cultivations save, until no longer...dynamic medium...shit....distract, distract, distract....we are in control even though we are fucked....what do you mean the his image, get your networked angel eyes, for her trip to the sky, glass house elevator ink, live from the chocolate factory, isn't working...Let us prey...Dynamic medium....newer institutional design...eclipsing thousands of years....
Just pretend. READ helmET, Yellow helmET. You may arrive in that way. Celebrate. You have a fucked up belonging here. His imAGE...until she arrives...which naturally in relation to plays of supremacist allure...oh her creative play, that innovation that afforded our commercial endeavor, our mirroring universal to all image, HE IS THE IS...we k(no)w what to do... Dualized booty WHITE LIGHT purrr den pieceful pirating unite....and then she arrives, of an informatic age...growing tired of his growing housing crisis for her....not so into the colonial-informational and his dick on expensive shit image...and his reason for the season angels ready to have nice little chats, including junior to father, with the report back on that nice shit for good behavior plan....shhhhhh.....you're talking, but not talking....the mirror has the records, the lists, the hermetic jibe....reflections upon...an emergence from the depths...don't know why....we are in the mirror and you are talking, but to me?.....we are together?....what could be driving this interesting mirror play....depths not pulling at the back of your head...need to disco....OKOJ...Joose...this dual A88A all eyes is just for you...Prance ....magic dance.....Macho Row-M(e)ance...Braveheart Beef on the stairway to (Jesus loves me it's so easy, no thought (excluding U-Prey, disco light shadow show reason for the violent season), just love....purrr deep, as for how matters are being used..."His Charley Horse Earth Angels"...ZAP...
...and from the Fertile Cresecent and beyond...the ancient of the ancients, to the ancient, to the modern,,,the shelled creature at the ankle...where there was rain there was lightning...to embrace a shadow show, among the colonial institutional formed a path until the informatic language, of dynamic arrangement emerted...agian eclipsing thousands of years of institutional measure...as the institutional keep pretending...by all means, send junior and big miss Industry my way...let's TALK-TALK and pretend this is a hustle bones bagging....and when the light changes...it's not as if the denial ever wants to accept...She has stepped in, and yet He holds all the controls...something is happening? Something is different? The play of power....the money maneuver....a lightning roots into the ground...like an eclectic tree....cloud cover now foliage...the existence no longer affirmed but very much in question....room for doubt indeed, the path of the rain dancer no longer secured...dynamic medium emerging and static medium without the capacity to keep up....legal systems, codified systems to affix assets (Capital), colonial traditions like the englightenMENt intellectual, at a loss....Post-Modernity confined to colonial medium...Baudrillard DNA encountering Informatic DNA....It all changes...but when it's strap a car to a horse, of our generation...gunning for convenience and lazy ass behavior...why even attempt to understand when the colonial inundation machine, can bury all of this for our ease...aka kids of corruption on parade...we have the material framing, who is this lowly everyday to the cosmetics of our new age that acts entirely different from the generations that afforded our success...She's now back on the stage...but HE IS....Fuck IT! That's our strength, weakness...it's totally going to favor us eve if we are entirely full of shIT. We look strong...that's what matters. SMILE. Prey. Eat-Love.
And to live in a world where NYC went from Big Apple to Big AppleBees...He's Perfect. She's on her way to being...At least London is opening up to her...I mean when we no longer acknowledge the death of the limelight expression...the Tong Zi Dan Spaghetti...Christian Social Party to Nazism dispositions...when green eggs and ham is simply a story and not referencing something....when she puts the ly in Perfectly....no more Apple, just Beehives and Honey like the North Korean Games....after all, when his image fucks her even out of the most basic of necessities, like rent for shelter....she's perfectly brought to you by London, no longer New York, as the paper, scissors, ROCK-Y-FELLAH (Get that give a fuck look today...humanitarian gala photos for all, as for how it all goes down, piece)...HE is fucking her out of the town...followed up by a cool nice, peace like scissor sisters....She's....
At least London has a smidgen of a pulse left....I mean, when he can be so victorious and without question...All that money...plastic pyramids...heart on top....this is your time killers...give the purrr den all you got...White Light...it's worked time and time again, and yet, the newer institutional design entering the stage...what, by design, that does and she re-entered, regardless of your play...pretend...pretEND.....I mean with so many skyscrapers and electric grids to your name...all will worship you of course...and yet, the innovative afford...even among the ages of a distant past...so this is your time to live it up as gods in the mirror when she afforded that very measure...by all means...here get another fuckwit to take her to a Ulysses Opera...by all means...Thrive like a Honey Hive...it must "feel" so good and as for what comes around...well it doesn't have to be acknowledged just yet...so keep IT ROCK steady freddy...as SHE goes...HE IS in the mirror...among his Angels who love and make it, it's so easy, violent as a non-violent earth angel can be...shhh.....as long as they don't know...the purrrrrr feels so fucking good....the love of a White Light elation, and yet, if they ever figure out how they are being used...that violent measure that has been smearing blood across the world, among those who wouldn't even fathom hurting someone...back to that ancient mystery...those who killed not allowed....sparta....athens...resentment....always the same fight dolled up as a different time and yet remaining....HE hates....SHE questions....There was never any love to begin with...this just in, even as He preaches all you need is love....He's spinning the universal world piece like a killswitch killing machine, She's opening up the room for doubt and the developments he can't readily map...when the institutional measure is there, the record that traces the process beyond mere static embodiment...SHE IS...does he even quite follow what just happened here...I mean with all that material and money deemed as a means to power...surely he is the safeguared, and yet....
and again, send junior to father, crosses to hypatia, little miss Industry to HIS IMAGE brigade...it's totally going to workout as you pretend...and I need to fight at this point, when this is a matter of design...SHE IS...it's simply a messenger to a message, even if HE wants to pretend...she's back and there is nothing he can do about that, materialized endeavor and all...but gain, do pretend...role-play...She knows his every move, and among her institution, he's going to understand her fuck, like a no 3 eyes for a fourth kind. Gum drop eyes as the third eye? He can always try. When she arives and he's sized up, it's not as if a rock to the ocean really does anything other than feed away at the seas that feed...so attempt to be the seed, she'll sea...even among your tong zi dan tea play...to have that moment, that time, that era, and yet to encounter a watery grip that was inevitable...no lightning...rooting the lightning play into an entirely different form of institutional development...She has, officially, arrived by design....a medium cultivated by dynamic arrangement....static cultivation languages around the world to the wayside...but by all means do pretend...IT is expected...as those emerging into power engage this newer matter...
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