machina ex deus
         is contradicted by
            deus ex machina
                                     (the old familiar
                    sadist,
                                                                              or the old
             familiar
                                   ******* on the crucifix,
  for i fear this was the son of Golgotha's
        intention).

        but so is **** ex machina
  (man out of the props / machinery) -
                 strange, that it has to be so,
             to have made sadistic machinery
    with good intention in order that
             love and all the essence man strives for,
to be paradoxically placed
      in order to receive both praise, and blame,
            but so far as i can see:
machina ex ****
                                is just as sadistic
               machina ex deus -
  
        or as buddha said:
                            the middle, try the middle (path);
             what Tibet is to Asia
                           Israel isn't to Europe...
           but the Italians said it was so,
not beyond the island
              did they ascribe their "dominant" pressure...

          the snowy curtain stopped them,
it is truly a question
      of **** ex machina
                   as is the case of deus ex machina,
because both machina ex deus
                    and machina ex **** are diabolical
manifestations
                           of what would otherwise be
an impossibility -
                                where both would reign
          in the realm of the per se...
and it's unfair, and it's cruel,
                     and it's everything we wish to be told
as being untrue...
                                   but it is life, it is colour,
                    and of course there's an argumentative
mandate
                                    to criticise both parties,
               wouldn't we all wish
       to lounge
                               and exist without a single
determining, anguishing thought?
                                              were we truly born for
lounging or a horse's gallop?
                                     but as arguments go:
    for man to assert himself as a deus ex machina
is deeply flawed -
                                    as evidence: the man pits himself
against the mass and is duly blamed,
                                        since for our physical strife,
there the gods contemplate the strife they create
    and occupy a wholly thought-bound realm of our
          mediation - not this squabbling on hands and knees,
not that.
                       no philosopher squanders the concept of god
or dismisses the concept, you might say
               biologists are first to plunge into an atheism,
   while philosophers play with indivisible things
            that later read as: b o m b.
i believe that the machina ex deus and the machina ex ****
are infernal -
                                     the points that could be
made: but we can sustain life is simply a judiciary statement:
not the statement of the individual...
                    somehow the middle ground...
              out of the machinery of man
a god-like interaction,
                                              a lubricated assertion:
              do not do unto others as you do not wish others
to do unto you...
                                     and out of the machinery of god
          a man-like interaction:
               as Moses suggested: i was basically talking
to an ***...
                      the **** of a woman's gladly juiced peach
buttocks: flirting with a flutter away away away:
             if only i didn't make that moral judgement and
said what i think i said to be:
       me forget Egyptian princess, me return from what
didn't seem to be a fool's errand... blah blah blah.
                   well, ******-me-ginger, i'd done that too!
            higher calling, gotta wear the leash.
                        in mirror form:

machina ex ****                   sued xe anihcam        

                                    yhwh
                                     ^    ^
                                     a    e
                                     d   v
                                     a    e
                                     m

  well sure, even on Malta they call god Allah -
         we can safely say: it's just a question of a noun,
and it is, but certain orthodox Jews went a bit far
with censoring the word d-g     the devil and god
on a ******* ferris wheel - i'm saying: give me something
to work with, yeah? give me something to reconfigure,
a lament configuration sort of thing -
                               give me something durable,
a play-dough manifestation i can play with, look at
and reinterpreted (plus, lucky me, the Jews hide the
vowels, and their vowels are like diacritical marks on
Latin letters) -
                                 i can sing both Allah and Jesus Hosanna
*** bi yah in the churches, but i need thinking grit
for me to stumble against from time to time;
basically i need to make the evolutionary step in taking
a very secretive tribalism of nomads and speak about it
in a Roman Forum without banter;
            but i guess i'm doing that already.

well, i would argue further, but this form doesn't exactly
allow distressing narratives
         about the plight of Norwegians writing
an existential systematisation outside of novels
       (much to their comfort with their reading diet) -
         hey, hands in the air like i just don't care:
the machinery created by the gods is as much infernal
     as man's machinery to create states and society...
  successful, sure... give each side a Nobel prize for
acquiring a however-many galaxies there are
        and however-many Mr. Po's there are in China...
all that's bugging me is:
                  if a god emerged from the machinery of man
with the biblical narrative (however obscured by
Moses writing in Egyptian and writing poetry) because
those pyramids were never going to fly...
                       how was it that man emerged from
the machinery of god?
                                           well, that's a bit easy
    and leaves all forms self-serving acknowledgement
for cult-establishing permission in the air...
            don't know, don't care, Darwinism is to the second right,
             caveman is: turn around and walk until you
see a dodo
                                               and everything else
                     you might want to think of as your
own egocentric octopus offshoot is on parade:
                                                   it's moving, it's moving,
       it's speeding, crashing, farting,
                                                   hot-smoking alive...
         and then dead.

that particular moment in time
when a phenomenon
slyly becomes a noumenon
and subsequently becomes
a phenomenon
(retraction)...
akin to
jaclynglenn's
video
the downfall of social
media:
and i too,
do not read
the printed press...
because...
who would have
thought that...
journalists
could be jumbled
up with politicians
these days...
but the stage is set...
the day has come...
the phenomenon
of the neo-video
the reiterated
emphasis of
the πράγμα
    σε μηχανήματα:
deus ex machina,
composed via
**** in machina,
into:
    machina est machina...
funny...
i hear no chimes,
nor any cha-cha-cha...
but...
the once phenomenon
worthy
stumbles against
the noumenon...
and the ping-pong
that is echoed?
well...
no one "thought"
of any of "that" either,
did they?
             while i am
busying myself with
playing gardener for
the trim's worth of a beard...
no tulips or roses 'ere...
i like to spot
an explosion-implosion-
scuttle-hiccup-woe
dynamic...
i.e.
there was,
an original implosion
to begin with...
the explosion
was readily available...
i once retracted from:
deus ex machina,
onto:
**** ex machina...
onto:
machina est machina...
it's hard enough attempting
to bury your
shadow,
far more entrenching
to have to also
gravitate
around minding either
face, tongue, or d.n.a...
but a phenomenon:
an explosion,
coinciding with
the noumenon:
an implosion,
and then...
"somehow",
able, to, reintegrate itself
to the phenomenon,
via having
been made focus,
or a noumenon
scrutiny?
sooner i die
a hundred times...
than succumb to this
prodigy nuance
of paralysis of
the parable of:
           statistics...
no one is going to wake
up from
the snowball (effect)
of a phenomenon,
to be of market worth
of a "relapse"
of a phenomenon...
of equal number count...

no, baby...
not when you come across
the nouemenon...
or not the A.I.,
or not the res per se...

  17th - 20th century
continental philosophy
is worth ****...
yeah... like the english tongue...
all i ever wanted to use
it for was: ****,
****.... and...
                    ****.

come the blitßkrieg like
a Himmler or a
Hindenburg *******
dyßaßter!

   ****:                 ...oops!
was i ever to be
a bystander,
like the Yorshire
Terry?
              woz i's eve'?

c'uld 'ave 'ad it
'n' a Glaswegian
sock-it
           *****...
for whatever worth was
to come from...
schlang...

'acking gypsy worth
a riddle of a roma
'aking standard,
the bargain for a tartan...
but i ebb
toward
the: are the sport
of tipping for a tat'n'too
a precursor of
meal-a-tail-of-ill-and-'om-meend?
i.e. you tattoo you
got a forking
in the tooth, eh mate?
like: Barry Madonna...
like...
whistle for the ****'s
worth of a harmonica?

oh i ain't blatant:
but you are...
i'm 'ucking covert...
cockney...
fake...
    like:
  i will better fake
what you have in *******
vinyl!
gitty-up or no go?

orthodox ping-pong
rubric goes:
yes, there was a phenomenon
of the democratic
*******...
came across the A.I.
noumenon...
came out...
eh...
                 scarred
            pseudo-phenomenon
reconquista...

and thank **** i was neither...
nothing quiet compares,
though...
pork oven poked...
to suffocate from
a grill...
and... yes...
beef...
           stinking meat...
for the holy hindu's worth of:
mama smoking the ***
off a semi-skimmed
glug's worth...
  no... pork: oven...
y'us...
  beef: oven?
         can i poach some mutton
n'steph?