Jan 7
a numerical revision to
my original proposition:
IVX:LC:DM / O:IZEGS:b:Γ:BP
there was and is only one glaring
mistake: concerning the genesis of
4 via G:
and how could i be so blind
but i guess i did that on purpose
because at least that makes sense
if mistakes are made on purpose
for the secondary purpose
of being able to make the correction:
H: or perhaps how one scribbles
the number depending on the handwritten
form rather than the universal
digital:
||
|
which is h in a "Copernican"
concern for direction where
is this supposed north or south or west
in outerspace?
perhaps even /|
|
so one leg short
and the arm askew... or just h from H
and even that is ingenius how
the uppercase letters are different to
lowercase letters
and perhaps there's something primitive
in Cyrillic when some letters
are the same upper- as lowercase
Вв
Гг Дд
Жж Ии
well... pretty much all the letters...
and how much of Cyrillic is Latin lazy
in mainting the rigid upper- to lowercase transition
unless it is Greek: in its original aesthetic...
where you will not find the uppercase to be like
the lowercase lettering...
ah but there are exceptions:
Ι ι, Κ κ
almost with Ι ι
if it weren't for the near invisible littlest of tails
on the lowercase iota: that the Latin men made
more pronunciated with the dot hovering above...
but there are also
Ο ο: but the omicron is perfect like that
and not much can be done about that...
then there are the twins:
Τ τ : Ι ι
subtle variations: notably the lick of
a slick tail...
T is t but τ is a question of
the Latin cross and Anthony's cross:
also the Russian orthodox cross and how W
when was worn borne
when paths of G the gamma crossed paths
with Lucifer and Wah became Łajba:
why'bah...
Χ χ, Ψ ψ can be excluded...
the subtleties of the digital handwritten
imprint are obvious to see... if you can be myopic
enough...
so the correction will stand and i will borrow
from Greek:
IVX:LC:DM / O:IZE:μ:S:b:Γ:BP
depending on how you see letters morph
into numbers and don't tell me that
God of the Semites didn't play the role of
both Olympian and the Titan by descending
to this world with word: letters:
to make hieroglyphs more tangible and
gave them the X-ray skeletal treatment
but imagine if the Chinese were the basis
and focus of the history of the plight of the Hebrews
imagine
what use the Hebrew god would be
when facing the unshakeable tenents
of the matchstick men who con conjured up
树: tree: also called affrirmation: sh'u...
what good would Hebrew be against that form
of encoding?
well the Hebrews can boast
their script against the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs
but at the same time the Chinese were burrowing
with more skeletons than could emerge
when combining Greek, Latin, Hebrew or the Runes...
and something natural happened
in the Orient when the Japanese decided
to create an alphabet that was not so heavily riddled
with memorising meanings
instead focusing on sounds...
how the Kanji was abandoned and two: not one!
two writing systems emerged!
the Katakana and the Hiragana!
now it feels impossible to know
which would suit the:
%: that's a concept of a philosopher's stone...
i might add:
touch a 10 with a 0.1 and somehow arrive at 100...
but there were 9 digits
in the Roman numerals
I V X
C M D L:
why did i count 9 to begin with:
so basically 2... 3... letters or numbers short
but that wasn't some impossible strcuture
or care to bypass..
the map of the London underground is still
still flaring me up...
i don't know why i might lay its claims on
me... but it does:
if i were to measure the distance from
Covent Garden to Leicester Sq
envision the sq mile then
go to the stretches of Morden,
Epping, Hainualt
hell: Ruslip doesn't ring a bell: never been there:
it's like i am the ego situated in London
and London is the mother-womb
and outside not having a driving license is
equivalent to being either decapitated
hung and quartered or being
an imbecile or lift off of wit
and some other jargon... like you might
be both: retarted and a half-capacity
the Igor that was Frankenstein's first proper experiment
and the monster: the Igor Towing?
but the map of London: that of the underground
is just that:
it's microscopic cone shaped:
the stations of most interest are mostly
enlarged in terms of distance apart:
noted by the Circle Line...
then as London: as the London expanse...
does expand...
the topographic detail is looser...
since the distance between stations is greater
but for the guarantee of navigation
the inner circle of "hell" retains its
microscopic elementality
you are basically peering at a detail being
blown up then being allowed
to retain its insignificance of the detail:
if i were to draw the map...
oh jeez: Gunther von Hagens looks gluttonous
and almost a Bond villain...
but i'm not here making cheap jokes
i wish i had the stomach to go and see his
exposition of dead body mantras of
muscle bone and sinew...
how did i bestow myself with a dis-conount
of the numerals:
i was sure almpost two hours: what felt like hours:
in a field of thought
the ego-mines...
these abrupt stations of electric
pognant reminders
in a field of the eternity of thoought
the hellish escapade of ego
and it's not like Nietzsche the failed pianist
turned angry philosopher set aside
all difference and heard the world war II cresdcendo...
i thought i counted 9 roman numerals:
instead i have the beast of the earth with 7 heads
like the numbers or the count of Hills
in Rome...
i would never believe this man
could be domesticated
so Reyla would say 40 years later
with Marquis de Sade as Dumas' D'Artangnegnome...
dyslexic in French
would never learn it
will never learn it
**** the French
Arab conquest justified!
vowel to soda poodles!
you ******* French!
Jeroean van Veen...
imagine if Chopin or Liszt left such
explosive notebooks:
but dear you and me:
read Nietzsche:
but then listen to his music...
heldenklage, NMW 2...
that's how you study philosophy
by reading Nietzsche first
thirst
then with air
breathe the rain in
and say Music is Music
and why did Thomas Mann reference
a mad pianist...
because how could Chopin or Liszt
write anything intellectually
ethno centric...
like the pan-Germanism of Nietzsche...
long before the collective
the individual soloist
with music forgotten
by words enlarged
Nietzsche the Pianist
not the philosopher of youth
but words from the heavenly abode of
the angelic choir like
a headache with God dispatched to earth
like Ulysses and the Sirens
and God there: with his rebellious Angels
on a boat
with me able to hear
alone
while they roared with each row row
row of the boat!
and i in heaven became the human kind ear
and the rebellious angels helped me to escape
the heavenly ordeal of castrated
**** and mouth suckling beings
like children and angels pristine...
get me out of heaven!
those voices shouldn't sing!
Satan: get me behind you a fifth oar!
Satan! yohore!
read Nietzsche then read Thomas Mann...
then Nietzsche in a second tongue:
be born or learn bilingualism...
like a skill compare philosophy cf. to mathematics
and then fuse the two via
linguistics
and forget the dogmas of religion
and psychiatry... forget the soft touch
of the harsh scematics
of the division of soul
like there's this autopsy equivalent to body in
vivo in vitro in esse...
that's where i think i am...
then listen to some of Nietzsche's piano compositions
and how delicate he was
before the Wagner Oyster Cult...
measure of guilt and how does
man overcome music?
it's the Counter Reformation all over...
if one cannot overcome God
even with God is Dead: !
then with Death and God: ?
i ask... how can man overcome
music: when man overcame
the mop with a steamer
dishwasher
without hands
and soap...
and television with a fireplace
or a neon aquarium... flashing lights... blah blah...
vampire... i think she's 14 years old
and sinking into my psyche like a butter soaked
sponge all warm and oozy like you mid coitus...
and i can't believe i would ever allow
Nabokov out of his butterflies and ****** reminiscence
hyper-metaphor of Imperial Russia
where we us Pollacks
weren't 5th Generation Napoleon Romance
and Charlemagne...
because what Angevins didn't rule the most part
of France
from Norse Sagas
via Denmark and later Normandy
the fabble of Rolo and Lothar Ragnarouke...
and i'm supposed to imagine England:
as Enoch Powell might have envisioned
Brazil:
Brazil should be the envy of England
if multi-culturalism failed
under globalism
and emerged multi-racialism:
Colombian **** and Brazilian ghetto
****
is trans-racial:the future is copper necked
in the guise of whites bleaching out the blacks...
and whites bleaching out the dark Raj *******
and sort of keeping the Arab Spring
woke
enough for a Medittarranean Winter
in autumnal gold colours
and the future is post-racial
but Brazil is not post-national
Brazilians love Brazil
these feminist hybrid Communist:
i love being a ****
i love being a **** and the supposed
SLANDER LORD PEDOHPILE...
i love spying on these FAT PINK RATS
and oh my red is actually ORANGE:
i have a spy in the other realm
i have the fox
the crow
and magpie
and robin
and the earthworm
to spy on serpents...
hmm... a train of ******* stars...
best to look down
there's an alter gravity in play
and me thinks:
pidgeon...
pidgin...
i said: if ego cogito ego sum is
to be reversed:
we must as the id...
id est cogitans ergo est non id cogitans...
jeez! that was a barricade
of proper grammar juggle...
my brain froze a bit like
the brain of the ptotagonist of Mad Men
Season 1 Episode 1... a handsome man...
a former veteran...
purple heart veteran
now working the menial job
in an advert office...
kolt! i stangled krauts younger than you!
a learning of PTSD...
so just having two lives
is the best way to reconnect with life...
the war ahoy and the thrill the numbing conquest:
reconcile with the lonely wife\
and two kids...
i sometimes don't to get up:
but that's only because i have to sort
out my dreams:
when i dream of Martin
full and healthy
i am connected to him not being Brain Dead...
and i know...
Edie was so heartless
and not showing me any concern for my problems
she compared my problems to
a game of baseball...
i lost it upon the second pedohpile insinuation...
then i finally lost it
when she said: but you've been only working
a full time job for only 6 months:
i was working... part time because i didn't
the money: poets are not pub landlords...
what?!
bull finally saw red...
red to be have! *******!
*******! *******! stabbed your 100x times
more when i was saying: *******!
i love you: x0
my original proposition:
IVX:LC:DM / O:IZEGS:b:Γ:BP
there was and is only one glaring
mistake: concerning the genesis of
4 via G:
and how could i be so blind
but i guess i did that on purpose
because at least that makes sense
if mistakes are made on purpose
for the secondary purpose
of being able to make the correction:
H: or perhaps how one scribbles
the number depending on the handwritten
form rather than the universal
digital:
||
|
which is h in a "Copernican"
concern for direction where
is this supposed north or south or west
in outerspace?
perhaps even /|
|
so one leg short
and the arm askew... or just h from H
and even that is ingenius how
the uppercase letters are different to
lowercase letters
and perhaps there's something primitive
in Cyrillic when some letters
are the same upper- as lowercase
Вв
Гг Дд
Жж Ии
well... pretty much all the letters...
and how much of Cyrillic is Latin lazy
in mainting the rigid upper- to lowercase transition
unless it is Greek: in its original aesthetic...
where you will not find the uppercase to be like
the lowercase lettering...
ah but there are exceptions:
Ι ι, Κ κ
almost with Ι ι
if it weren't for the near invisible littlest of tails
on the lowercase iota: that the Latin men made
more pronunciated with the dot hovering above...
but there are also
Ο ο: but the omicron is perfect like that
and not much can be done about that...
then there are the twins:
Τ τ : Ι ι
subtle variations: notably the lick of
a slick tail...
T is t but τ is a question of
the Latin cross and Anthony's cross:
also the Russian orthodox cross and how W
when was worn borne
when paths of G the gamma crossed paths
with Lucifer and Wah became Łajba:
why'bah...
Χ χ, Ψ ψ can be excluded...
the subtleties of the digital handwritten
imprint are obvious to see... if you can be myopic
enough...
so the correction will stand and i will borrow
from Greek:
IVX:LC:DM / O:IZE:μ:S:b:Γ:BP
depending on how you see letters morph
into numbers and don't tell me that
God of the Semites didn't play the role of
both Olympian and the Titan by descending
to this world with word: letters:
to make hieroglyphs more tangible and
gave them the X-ray skeletal treatment
but imagine if the Chinese were the basis
and focus of the history of the plight of the Hebrews
imagine
what use the Hebrew god would be
when facing the unshakeable tenents
of the matchstick men who con conjured up
树: tree: also called affrirmation: sh'u...
what good would Hebrew be against that form
of encoding?
well the Hebrews can boast
their script against the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs
but at the same time the Chinese were burrowing
with more skeletons than could emerge
when combining Greek, Latin, Hebrew or the Runes...
and something natural happened
in the Orient when the Japanese decided
to create an alphabet that was not so heavily riddled
with memorising meanings
instead focusing on sounds...
how the Kanji was abandoned and two: not one!
two writing systems emerged!
the Katakana and the Hiragana!
now it feels impossible to know
which would suit the:
%: that's a concept of a philosopher's stone...
i might add:
touch a 10 with a 0.1 and somehow arrive at 100...
but there were 9 digits
in the Roman numerals
I V X
C M D L:
why did i count 9 to begin with:
so basically 2... 3... letters or numbers short
but that wasn't some impossible strcuture
or care to bypass..
the map of the London underground is still
still flaring me up...
i don't know why i might lay its claims on
me... but it does:
if i were to measure the distance from
Covent Garden to Leicester Sq
envision the sq mile then
go to the stretches of Morden,
Epping, Hainualt
hell: Ruslip doesn't ring a bell: never been there:
it's like i am the ego situated in London
and London is the mother-womb
and outside not having a driving license is
equivalent to being either decapitated
hung and quartered or being
an imbecile or lift off of wit
and some other jargon... like you might
be both: retarted and a half-capacity
the Igor that was Frankenstein's first proper experiment
and the monster: the Igor Towing?
but the map of London: that of the underground
is just that:
it's microscopic cone shaped:
the stations of most interest are mostly
enlarged in terms of distance apart:
noted by the Circle Line...
then as London: as the London expanse...
does expand...
the topographic detail is looser...
since the distance between stations is greater
but for the guarantee of navigation
the inner circle of "hell" retains its
microscopic elementality
you are basically peering at a detail being
blown up then being allowed
to retain its insignificance of the detail:
if i were to draw the map...
oh jeez: Gunther von Hagens looks gluttonous
and almost a Bond villain...
but i'm not here making cheap jokes
i wish i had the stomach to go and see his
exposition of dead body mantras of
muscle bone and sinew...
how did i bestow myself with a dis-conount
of the numerals:
i was sure almpost two hours: what felt like hours:
in a field of thought
the ego-mines...
these abrupt stations of electric
pognant reminders
in a field of the eternity of thoought
the hellish escapade of ego
and it's not like Nietzsche the failed pianist
turned angry philosopher set aside
all difference and heard the world war II cresdcendo...
i thought i counted 9 roman numerals:
instead i have the beast of the earth with 7 heads
like the numbers or the count of Hills
in Rome...
i would never believe this man
could be domesticated
so Reyla would say 40 years later
with Marquis de Sade as Dumas' D'Artangnegnome...
dyslexic in French
would never learn it
will never learn it
**** the French
Arab conquest justified!
vowel to soda poodles!
you ******* French!
Jeroean van Veen...
imagine if Chopin or Liszt left such
explosive notebooks:
but dear you and me:
read Nietzsche:
but then listen to his music...
heldenklage, NMW 2...
that's how you study philosophy
by reading Nietzsche first
thirst
then with air
breathe the rain in
and say Music is Music
and why did Thomas Mann reference
a mad pianist...
because how could Chopin or Liszt
write anything intellectually
ethno centric...
like the pan-Germanism of Nietzsche...
long before the collective
the individual soloist
with music forgotten
by words enlarged
Nietzsche the Pianist
not the philosopher of youth
but words from the heavenly abode of
the angelic choir like
a headache with God dispatched to earth
like Ulysses and the Sirens
and God there: with his rebellious Angels
on a boat
with me able to hear
alone
while they roared with each row row
row of the boat!
and i in heaven became the human kind ear
and the rebellious angels helped me to escape
the heavenly ordeal of castrated
**** and mouth suckling beings
like children and angels pristine...
get me out of heaven!
those voices shouldn't sing!
Satan: get me behind you a fifth oar!
Satan! yohore!
read Nietzsche then read Thomas Mann...
then Nietzsche in a second tongue:
be born or learn bilingualism...
like a skill compare philosophy cf. to mathematics
and then fuse the two via
linguistics
and forget the dogmas of religion
and psychiatry... forget the soft touch
of the harsh scematics
of the division of soul
like there's this autopsy equivalent to body in
vivo in vitro in esse...
that's where i think i am...
then listen to some of Nietzsche's piano compositions
and how delicate he was
before the Wagner Oyster Cult...
measure of guilt and how does
man overcome music?
it's the Counter Reformation all over...
if one cannot overcome God
even with God is Dead: !
then with Death and God: ?
i ask... how can man overcome
music: when man overcame
the mop with a steamer
dishwasher
without hands
and soap...
and television with a fireplace
or a neon aquarium... flashing lights... blah blah...
vampire... i think she's 14 years old
and sinking into my psyche like a butter soaked
sponge all warm and oozy like you mid coitus...
and i can't believe i would ever allow
Nabokov out of his butterflies and ****** reminiscence
hyper-metaphor of Imperial Russia
where we us Pollacks
weren't 5th Generation Napoleon Romance
and Charlemagne...
because what Angevins didn't rule the most part
of France
from Norse Sagas
via Denmark and later Normandy
the fabble of Rolo and Lothar Ragnarouke...
and i'm supposed to imagine England:
as Enoch Powell might have envisioned
Brazil:
Brazil should be the envy of England
if multi-culturalism failed
under globalism
and emerged multi-racialism:
Colombian **** and Brazilian ghetto
****
is trans-racial:the future is copper necked
in the guise of whites bleaching out the blacks...
and whites bleaching out the dark Raj *******
and sort of keeping the Arab Spring
woke
enough for a Medittarranean Winter
in autumnal gold colours
and the future is post-racial
but Brazil is not post-national
Brazilians love Brazil
these feminist hybrid Communist:
i love being a ****
i love being a **** and the supposed
SLANDER LORD PEDOHPILE...
i love spying on these FAT PINK RATS
and oh my red is actually ORANGE:
i have a spy in the other realm
i have the fox
the crow
and magpie
and robin
and the earthworm
to spy on serpents...
hmm... a train of ******* stars...
best to look down
there's an alter gravity in play
and me thinks:
pidgeon...
pidgin...
i said: if ego cogito ego sum is
to be reversed:
we must as the id...
id est cogitans ergo est non id cogitans...
jeez! that was a barricade
of proper grammar juggle...
my brain froze a bit like
the brain of the ptotagonist of Mad Men
Season 1 Episode 1... a handsome man...
a former veteran...
purple heart veteran
now working the menial job
in an advert office...
kolt! i stangled krauts younger than you!
a learning of PTSD...
so just having two lives
is the best way to reconnect with life...
the war ahoy and the thrill the numbing conquest:
reconcile with the lonely wife\
and two kids...
i sometimes don't to get up:
but that's only because i have to sort
out my dreams:
when i dream of Martin
full and healthy
i am connected to him not being Brain Dead...
and i know...
Edie was so heartless
and not showing me any concern for my problems
she compared my problems to
a game of baseball...
i lost it upon the second pedohpile insinuation...
then i finally lost it
when she said: but you've been only working
a full time job for only 6 months:
i was working... part time because i didn't
the money: poets are not pub landlords...
what?!
bull finally saw red...
red to be have! *******!
*******! *******! stabbed your 100x times
more when i was saying: *******!
i love you: x0
