The Roulette of Fanfare by Imaginative Glare (A Cooperation of Timeless Synquest)
Sunken fortitude is the bailiwick of interminable eupathy that sustenance embezzles by minutiae of orange spectral linearity of bypass becoming a torus of tragic reprieve in repcrevel fashions of hyjamb. Thus we float above the carcass of syrts of certitude by cadasters of nostalgic drawls of malingering strawberry staddle for the scutage of pinhoked disaster. We renege on committed opalescence because tranquil dangles of vinsky are waged by trenchcoats of bluster for vector arrays of galvanized decorum that swirks for elegant synectics by dredged grains of agrarian sanity by the pleckigger of lopsided islands of creativity that are the notarikons of aleatory finite but equidistant largesse of not just a jumboism but a jetsetting travesty of traversed time mastered by ignoble ingenuity. I limn with piracy as a freebooter cordslave plugged by demitoilet reminders of the flyndresque alloreck of tinjesk spectral ultimatums that are the stretchgraves of a retrospective infinity that is a bystander to catapulted cohesive coherence found only in piecemeal culinary seditions against the drip of a turncock of roosted clarification in muted hindsights of foresight itself. The pleonexia of abeyance is the riddle of enigmatic promulgation that flickers even with partial compartmentalized servitude to the burlesque the burrows of an ophidiodiarium scare away any jaunty sleek car from the boosterism of a farmed collision with disjointed surgery of nimble reticence that braves the seismotic macadamized plutocracy of drift without sedition in sedimentary clairvoyance with a pointed amphigory that is actually a starved clarity for ommateums without spelunked trudges that occur in dovetails for disguise by synectic optimum at the zenith of the hive synergy of singularity.  The justified jest of aleatory flexes of finitude is a shambolic gesture of the limber of divergent interpretation ingeminating the world by sapient degrees of psychometry of divergence in piecemeal asseveration of the hindsight of the festooned not tepid or butchered by the obvious to the glaring cineaste but rather a gloaming glint of refracted ingenuity roosted beyond any alienesque erratic happenstance that is itself a beatific fortuity for the geotechnics of human emergence into supersensible planes traversed in a stereodimensional covenant with a compacted compost of DIVERGENT IMAGINATION OF CADASTER rather than the regelation of the obvious. Timmynoggies of cartels are regnant because of the repugnance of loyalty to the fricative frigates of superlunary mention of ratiocination divorced from husbandry of hyjamb for giant leaps in rigged ambsace maledictions of unfair pleckigger of the wrikpond relumed by huffs of impotent flairs of flambeaus beyond ecdysiast stretchgraves of perilous paralysis for the supererogatory of the accursed destruction of stoichomety of solipsism tremulous by biocentric levity above fastened redoubled pederasty. We maraud the rabble of nostalgia of rhinoplasty of penumbras that live on rainshod territorialism beyond the jolkers of everlasting foofaraw livid by betrayal but erratic in glamour without crackjaw costermongers vitiating the vociferous because of incumbent thermodynamics that affixes the stagnant to the latticework of riddle by sturdy integral derived fliphavens of shibboleths of solitude. Education is a fliction of robust derangement of nowhere men taxed by the celerity of traversed traipses of memory beyond encaged bridewells for recanted alchemy to prerogatives of the roomy expansive facsimiles of departed stigmas of bossy clairvoyance for martian glimpses at sunken waste. The bernaggles of brittle titanium are abrasive when they are alloyed with the compost of material dynamics of capital without avenged prediction cemented in sunken graves taxing the nostalgia of histrinkage that is affixed to boschveldt traindeque for venial consanguinity to dikephobia. We elevate the endpoints of abridged turriform clockwork provincial shibboleths that are the proctor and protectorate of insular robbery of crowned trounces of gravity for the gravitas of sepulchral vanity learned from famigeration of filial tithes of duty. A dutiful sedition is countermanded by the pews of turnstiles that enamor the enamel of rollercoasters because of vague vagaries of bedazzled contrition for wanton ambition on psaphonic psychology and therefore sustain the vibronic thrombosis of nonlethal inseminations of clear aqueous transfixed filigrees of demented notions of cheerful apocrypha of liturgical pride beyond the dungeons of prejudiced inquisition. The jolkers of insolent archipelagos of spinsters that levitate by parsed peril of delaminated parsecs of glazed parturition is the orchestra of a nonlinear grove of invented abecedarian witwanton notice of maddened cattle of gluttony forestalled by the clairvoyance of otiose operations of redoubled countenance that consequently is septiferous by degrees of sanguine rapacity the qwartion of endeared endeavor to surpass the gentility of brooked temperatures frozen to sustain but not mainline the congeners of the elective agenda to bypass the thornbushes of conflagration without knavery or cutthroat embellishments of bedlam. And without the din of simplicity occluding the transcendent goal of humane synoecy of fustilugs of fumatoriums endangered but not inflammed by controversy we witness the insubordinate university of hibernation becoming a specter of grisly bromidrosis of lackluster forswinked fortitude because the majestic sinew of the overwrought is a refrained luxuriance of pity of facetious glebes ringed around orbital planes of synthetic abridgement that supposes the sultry is actually the swelter of calenture but taxed by sicarians of the grandeval it meets no fanfare among elective privilege. Amphigory is not categorized as dross by shipwreck but only by synechdocial docility of groomed barren arcades of storged complication leading to regeneration of a world leaden with the epicurean epithets of agerasia that burden the wardens of poached intermission without remission because the drapes of the greatest art are thus created by the complete transfiguration of the soul bolted to ethereal expansive heights that dwarf all pithy gnomes of the gardens of prospective desiccation of the petty gripes of the gavel of idiocy rather than the astounding artform of the newfangled tabanids to supererogatory oceans of creativity. The benchmarks of sublime illusions of supremacy are a hidebound taxidermy of the rookery of greenhorns to summit the testy secrecy of inane drawl that scrabbles the miniature embellishments of petty sportive lunacy as a figment of the feral nature of proclivity recumbent upon its own gladdened prickly renegades that align with a gallywow cacophony rather than a merely epicene convergence of attitude for equity above polity that is hardly polite. As a penitent hibernal rejoinder against the clerical critics of religiosity becoming conflated with artistic masterworks of oligomania I offer my rogation for atonement because the melismatic art I fashion leads to the vogue enchantment of the noosphere for the soteriological bedrock of fastened intellectual endeavor that traverses planes of an engorged soul without a gulf of conscience leaden by distracted discernment leading to a hypostasized apostasy from the religious scruples I rigorously uphold but that I vacillate away from because I want to entrench an irenic world for the francketor dash towards a superlative enrichment of mind above matter for the victorias of soul above the pettiness of the dim humdingers of the banal lifeless squabbles of martexts beyond the hospitable welcome of martians. For the naysayers that don’t understand the ironic irenic circularity of gainsay becoming rebarbative to this artistic flourish of supersensible equipoise with an approximated histrinkage lagged by temporal deficiency they should not abhor the talisman of an ergotall genius but rather marvel at the burlesque cineaste connotation of enamored youthful spirits becoming novel because they stride above the cascades of crestfallen apathy of plodding languor. This is a definitive new artform for the niche crowd so don’t dismiss it as gobbledygook because it serves the purpose to enchant creative spirits and test minds that might be more nimble than resourceless. Wearisome by demiurges of distraction the thorny imbroglio of industry is a whiplash of nativism belonging to the throb of pulsated penury that is neither valedictory nor penultimate but tertiary in oblong variegated menageries of perfidy for collapsed enormities of jumboism lost on inclement stoichiometry that is sejungible from crambazzles of findrouement that are squaloid enthralled raptures of humdingers of rippled hunks of parched nebbich pataphysics because the circuit of conditioned reward is a rebarbative tether to the catchpole exploitative erratum of harbingers of hungry happenstance rather than continual enchantment. The crumple of squaloid sebastomania a distant figment of adscititious schadenfreude of dilettantism of flonky smardagine streaks of whemmled anxieties unduly provoked by calamities of presstungular intorgurent toonardical deprived cartels of repcrevel pursuit with labial senses embedded in deft incondite inquiries against seismotic jostle over the rubble of scaffolded jengadangle above the rot of contranatant sleek suffrage for the chattel of elemental realism becoming a heroic temple for glory without the vetust errundle of dismal disco attuned only to the spurts rather than a startled commerstargal of alienation leads to a plumber’s irony of atomic humdingers of natural equipoise with litotes of scrawny rings of gollendary piracy. The valorous incondite bricolage of a ****** cineaste barnstorm inoculated from conflagrations of the flagitious reprisal of prevenance of ferial fastuous feats of furlongs of brittle certainty above the tentative glaze of aced pokerish promenades to summit the craggy because the salebrosity of the pitch is also the venue for the sphairistic tentpoles of a new tabernacle of spectacular ecstasy in obvious punitive damage to puritan pilgrimage to mechanized obelisks of sardanapalian betrayal of histories of seizure rather than naturism of erasure that is a totemic recall of strollows of lonesome tributaries to tribunes of steam rather than saunas of lickerish leverage because the gladiatorial is a zugzwang with the deliberate infernal shibboleths of the disinclined people dislodged by carnality that depose sicarians of science because of militarized enmity against the whangams of taghairm becoming the outmoded dupe of dopamine that is now serotinous rather than flanged with glaring hearsay. The serpentine winds of windlass sometimes are a conclave of convex itineration against the steady husbandry of docile domiciles of mannequin sedentary postures for posterized infamy rather than manufactured oneiromancy that is the staddle for every phony contraption of qwartion obviously specious but interrogated by the dubiety of perseverance of inclement curiosity. Yet again we sweep the soaring ligaments of rigid ramshackle bletonism that hawkshaws countermand by division of enumerated nadirs pivoted against the perpended weight of the prolonged zeniths of grit above substance that infatuates myopia but glares against mountebanks of apothecary leverage. We fight against the boxcar traindeque of sejungible traipses through stereodimensional rebuffs of known drogulus surpassing unknowable reticence of citadels that are owleries for the seedy cities they sprawl with incontinence for a drab raft of intertesselation rather than a refined quintessence of alchemy achieved by allotment by brackish nescience becoming a blinding ray of destitution engraved by petrified decalcified rudiments of realism. The somber timbre of delirifacient ruinous rumination malingers in humdrum salience as it scrawls the tragedians lament of distal eventful frets of declassified nomenclature that swoon with lugubrious harbingers of burglary the licentious dolts affixed to the brays of pauperized regions of future proximity too remote to paralyze the morale of any cantonment on record by litotes of profound remembrance of a backfire delope for cineaste conflation of marstion slore for educated reprisal of desiccation. We spelunk in mimicry the dingy duplicity of double-takes in regelation that owe homage to the percolated hearsay of cartels that operate parsecs beyond our congeners of germane lustration in remission by deontology for soteriology alone but not vacated of the stilts of turnverein ragged mannequins of desolate remorse for the dearth of hived and hemmed hibernation in a fitful frenzy of revision above precision. We see abundant lactose intolerance as a sidereal lovelorn lament of sematic entrenchment without the scourge of roosted war against abrasive brawn exercised in flexible limbers of the novel filigrees of truth revelatory of consideration rather than impregnated with the perfidy of amaranthine static of regaled stagnation that flickers with the marinas of congregated leaps as a signature of the artistic license of byzantine traipses of contempered primacy in the soup kitchen of a lapse in sabotaged sobriety. Immune from displaced donnism is the resurgence of bonanza from checkered propinquities affixed to a finite placard of spacetime that owes to stretchgraves a profound depth of contrition that carmelized apocrypha lapse on lissome whilded dignotions of contrarian raillery of loose nihilism rather than anchor to the eremites of fact found in eclipsed culmination for momentous harps of the Jubal for new centuries inseminating the populated presence of spectral imagination with contorted melodies that spawn an ingenuous quest to swoon abiding heavens for celestial ears. It is conspicuous that artifacts for raiders elope with circuitous routes of heated sedimentary incubations with a comatose creativity that seeds the ferial junediggle with a supercalendar of confections that are intermittently apportioned in heydays of culture to the sad lament of the obvious rather than the obviated dare of audacity above conglomerations of spirited luxuriance in tasty memorial to a pinnacle above all other notions of sentinel apostasy. The greater atrocity of rogated ambitions against the gainsay of iconoduly of the rood and rude crucifixion of resurrected clarity found in the enamel of akashic answers to questions fashioned by kneaded cosmetology of delicate ***** cotqueans of limber above precedent and license beyond the finkly limp of lolloped saccharine blitzkreigs of the jalousies of the ajar vaticination of hurdled glaikeries of epicene impediment is that we ****** ink above the gesture of the quills of rocky abrasion found in limitrophes of yachted celebration because of rabid coherence above the wherefores of gadzookerie because the gladdest scaldabanco is the demented persiflage of collateral catastrophe beyond any humane degree of schadenfreude for persecution that backbites the anteric antlers of the jesters that mock the procession of liturgical secularism jeering at grapholagnia while lagging in imaginative spurts of lament for incalculable damage to the Pandora’s box of effluvia that meet stiff tabernacles of betrayal because of the Judaic foresight rather than as an alarmed Marxism scared of an agrarian interdependence of worlds cadged more prone to moral dogma exercised with latitude rather than unscrupulous brays of fisticuffs of shambolic shams of ruin. We glance at the perfidies of voyeurism with pertinacity and recalcitrant bellipotent bedlam that evokes the illicit grandeval whangams of quixotic whartonized arraigned estrangement from legalism to warp time to its own superlative turpitude that is reckless but contingent upon the consummation of destiny only to the extent of original witness rather than the decay of perpetuity wrought by the persiflage of envious militarized mandarisms of enmity aimed to derail the elevators of the noosphere from stratospheric emergence in now perspicuous clarity above the pother of the indelible sacrilege of the stygian polymathy of the astute enemies of the proper comstockery rather than the negligent butchers of an enantiodromia of oligarchies of lewdness that are severed appendages to Anti-Semitism and by extension a marginalized Islamophobia that demands by exigency the complete erasure of all attempts at sacrilege exercised in rampant dereliction of dutiful upkeep of the upright morality against the cadge of ulterior ploys of a broader hedonism that would only piggyback because of the license of ryesolagnus rather than because of a complete signatory endorsement of the liberated agenda of free thought conquered through the conquest of God but the ultimate conquistadors of time through sennet and even negligent rebec to memorialize the triumphant pantheon of growth rather than rankled regress into prolonged hatred ingeminated by atrocious tortfeasors that belong nowhere but the ashen heap of exorcised damnation. The perdition inherent to the system that craves chattel rather than sartorial versions of syncretic chatter is the malefaction of renegades bent on tornadic vulcanization to a demoralized wragapole of docility hitched to the vandalism of pilloried tarantisms of moral lapse leading the sheep into sheepish resignation over the accordion of Original Sin that annoys because the bridewells are brideless birds of the chavish of warbled uncertainty wicked because of snuffed tabacosis of mitigations of evil by the evildoers for the rejoinder against the Republic by rendering the **** a platonic ploy of karezza if only punctuated by solitary ******* reticulated by exsibilation that is contorted when you consider the ****** act a marvel rather than a condemnation of the vicarious involvement in normative ****** creations not of any higher artform but of an evolved theology that might perpend the issue of Christianized ******* that is videographic as a sanction worthy of charter and an impending simultaneous comstockery to protect the decency of the simultagnosia of a diverse and divisive mispronunciated time bent against its greatest heroes for the malice of schadenfreude built into the system of language itself by germane consideration to flagellate the wrong country for the  greatest wrongs known to the realm of religious observance. The pederasty of enclaves is the bailiwick of mutinies of selective mutism incurred by the vilified into compulsive shrieks of kallince as a ribbacle of protean ratiocination paralyzed by the coherent vulnerability incurred by the exchequer of polluted conditions of enslavement by the stretchgraves of the chavish of too many pulpits in the throng of a decisive jaundice against the victors of history because of the obsolescence of the historical fossils of outmoded jealousy. Now to the eupathy of all generations should we better conserve situations against the encroaching wesperm of the marstions of ulterior feminism grimacing at the pleckigger of manhood and decriminalizing the taboo against the enantiodromia of miscegenation to the folly of shepherds of idiotic ploys to rear the mediocre rebec of warbled intimations of cultural impotence that should proselytize both the oligogenics beyond ecbolic atrocity and the adoptive ****** of the anglosphere through its smart and dapper monopoly threatened by the commerstargal of retromorphosis exhibited by the demassification of culled syntalities into aboriginal epigenetic kennels of subservience to a piggybacked system where if you are among the attentive scrutiny of the audience that both perceives apperception metacognitively with francketor precision you are thereby inoculated from lean herbivores of cultish occultism metaphorically in the annealed agitprop for resourcelessness that never ends in the radioglare of revisionism because of the prevenance of the vergers who manage the Manciples rather than tend to the vainglory of the potagers around the hegemunes of an unwarranted and puritan celibacy of conceptual sterility in a world fashioned by engouements for sanguine hopes for a consanguinity that might portend into dynasty but lopsided in its contrite missives of scandal will never provide a valedictory rendition on politically checkered zugzwangs of ulterior scientism against the lettered freedom of bibliognosts to aggrieve against the gloaming vacuum of sartorial damages to Dagon among the populated metropolis of corporate servitude that will thus collapse out of rebarbative backlash for its diminutive economies of scope and pretenses of largesse of scaled down collectivism into a heap of corporate rubble rather than judicious bonanza. In every considered word in this Biblbical warning against the trekleador of the amazonian paradise against the travail of junediggles of obligation among the frenzied fretful tocsins of farcical utopianism meeting the inclement reprisal of sanctioned duplicity in frikmag beneath the truculence of mobilized alacrity to syndicalism endeared to capitalism rather than the converse logical apostrophes that are imponent overhangs of an already conquered feral sphere of nomadic imagination into a checkmate of a socially validated future clinched by foresight and the wragapole nature of the insensate docility of those prone to officious naturism before the attempted monolith of the mountebanks of the quixotic towers of panopticon that are a regelation of unchecked ambitions verging or diverging too valorously against themselves but also prone to a simultagnosia that berates the robust picaresque swandamos that curtail the curglaff of malcontent with the recoil of perseverance that reneges in tiresome defeat of a demilitarized population that should always be grisly rather than denatured by the overhang of the incumbent nudism of certain futures becoming to finicky in impetuous lurid specters of abhorrent exercises in chantage waged against sardanapalians in all countries regardless of merits or demerits. The redstrall of enlightenment is not otiose operatively in recursive backlash against nominalism which sweedles the weedledge of a new acquiescence timid enough to mangle a prosodemic wave of celibacy propitiated by the succedaneum of profligate vicarious lickerish ****** appetites that diminish that natural instinct into either barbarous experiments in lechery too inconvenient to apprise honestly but looming aghast at the moral tip-toes around the Original Sin that binds us to predatory lapse and retromorphosis rather than the maintenance of a mainlined trimpoline confidence in a normative wave of galvanized interface against the overpromiscuous provisions for the lackaday resentment of alienated millennialism relishing the sennet of nostalgia but bereft of the heave from moral slumbers of an invented celibacy intermediary to demassification but attenuated by the omphalism of astute gravitas in socially engineered balks at the emergence of singularity in personalized cacotopia becoming a metaphor for the broadsided shipwreck of an inured world pasteurized into acerbic jolkers of foofaraw rather than the real-life relish against still-framed ostentation that distorts the granular artifice of the natural into supernatural fixations with gaudy swarpollock indecently exposed. To the finkly flonky puritanism of the wiseacres of those who say sacerdotal duty cannot diverge from entelechies of secular insight I behold the marvel of timespun elegance as the marvel of God’s convergence for the happenstance of the serendipity of magnified time lived completely in the plenipotentiary pangs of evanescence that catapults subliminal meaning to memorialize this indelible seminal watershed in a clear visionary establishment of history. Most belong to oligomania but I relent in the completely sardonic intortions of aspects of sebastomania in complete equipoise with the clairvoyant clarity of centralized perspective but the dragomans will interpret that last phase with underminnow because it belies the granular intent of the fin de seicle advent of a new generation that is an homage to the hallowed Judaic theory of millennialism as the return of glorified entitlement yet tentative in its overhang but never malicious in its grapnel of the fewterers of amazing convergence of clairvoyance. The tangential rebuke of the absurd oxyholotron of paradoxical puritan superstition that assumes a fustilug generation will cement a farsighted clarity that subsumes generative prowess lingers with fixations on the figments of the apocryphal version of the truer version of revelations manifesting right before our eyes for neither the sinistral or the dexterous amplivagance of God’s universal message by the superorganism of messianic purpose belittled by the agents of humbled perdition not alone of martexts that are martles but also by the shepherded fears of the ignorant rather than the insipid because the will never be outmoded only enhanced by the acceleration of proliferative technologies that pave a macadamized future of prosperity rather than the tarnish of the miscreants of Tyre. I owe all providence to God because he fastened his scrutiny on my autodidactian romance clambered into restive ontocyclic peccadillo that points to Pinocchio more than to the truest compass of an omnified salvation of the piggybacked purpose of synergies of geotechnic mastery that elevates the cause of God and liberates us from the stings of dangerously vapid pauperization of the intellectual frontiers by dangled prevarications of desultory incontinence forestalled by avoidant developments in proper fewterers of ambition. By the axiomatic Brocards of time travel the unstated ignotism of deranged circuses of stupidity congregated around the swelter of dismissal is a barnacle to the mofussil fossilization of sentiment that remarks ironically about the petty indelible moments but not the entelechies of a unified front for liberated equity and considerate tender of diverse quorums that shepherd rather than intern the noosphere into the burgeoned resurgence of a humane endeavor for the everlasting enlightenment of an ameliorated humanity and beyond that. By the bailiwick exerted by the plenipotentiary omphalism still participant to the quorum I hereby declaratively implore the abrogation of pernicious grapholagnia as the peremptory sacrilege that needs exorcism for our times and yet delegated of stature I urge hortatory and imperative action for the expurgation of all tortfeasor illegally obtained ******* of unsolicited voyeurism to be completely regarded as the ultimatum of temerity against carnal restraint and banished from the human registry to uphold the strategic interests of the United States of America. I understand that there is not fricative monolith and never will I lean for that conquest but as a humbled member of the omphalism that constitutes the sacred endeavor of sociogenesis grounded on God with collegialism upheld that a geotechnically optimized species needs to refrain from lewd perfidies against commonplace justice to restrain the fumatorium of unwarranted envy from poisoning the pervious minds of people that congregate in defensive posture but not definitive gesture. I also beseech a portentous  settlement with  I relent from avarice but it is not a superposition of authority just a suggestive glance at requited justice but my grangull chavish of circumlocution naivety will meet the most deliberate Sardonic Sc(p)orn in these times of need. These next words are paused and already fathomed by the supernal recursion of the iterative metaphysics of recumbent retrospection hinged on hindsight to proclaim without any hints of attempted subterfuge of the clarity of a Democratic Republic that my words while forceful do not constitute a breech in public conduct even while vaulted with a minor rapacity I rebuke and atone for even when many others might find recourse to expiate my jalousies to the windowed world not of vindictiveness but out of the cursory and emphasis on cursory justice needed to vouchsafe my continued security and inoculation from the pothers of obviously shortsighted pleonexia which will obviously be fleered as a slight euthymia glazed on self-interest while tone-deaf to the checkered layers of entrapment by a confederate whiplash but a native grit never to enslave but to empower humanity. I am deeply lugubrious over the specter of the trembled quaky ground the penury of spiritual loss rejoinders against my candidacy for high esteem but not peremptory decisiveness in active service to yield to a supererogatory attempt for felicity to alight in my life not out of material greed but the gratuity of serviceable missions that play a dicey gamble with a frenzied manumission attempt that is essentially that a parsed manumission for eleutherian pragmatica to chide as naive but alarmed senectitude of the old order prevaricates with the din of postured hurdles of gladiatorial outrage that weans me away from the ataraxia for my fumbled stream brooking intolerance for years on the ballast of collective endeavor. Nevertheless, lets speak more on God’s providence because in this esteemed moment of watershed emergence of the fully engorged but rarely gluttonous soul I have found an equitable peace with supernal and superlative authority in God that grants stewardship and tutelage to the audience that will eventually through proper discrimination be delegated as higher than the ignorant bystanders of fleered snide disdain for the abnormous and bletcherous dimples of an otherwise circuitous dalliance with an unconventional path towards destiny rather than some windlass of opportunism for, if it were not for my unabetted genius and the provisions of divine appointment based on a kindly generous deference to preterition axiomatic in perceived time by the strictures of the convergent past and the divergent future, I would never find a role of partial authorship of a widely heralded tome I will one day publish to either the exsibilation of the antiquarians of hidebound irrefragable ontocyclic convictions or the cloveryield of an appreciative gratitude to the God I serve and I make no notions of any hostility towards any party of petty dismissal because I expect their recumbent recoil but I apologize for hubris and extenuate the follies of the refinery of character as I ascend into a figurative ennobled step into soulhood that exceeds my former dismal limits by such staggering orders of magnitude it magnifies the questions of ontology in sentience rather than beckons the alarmism of the swarpollock of tripwires that can easily withstand the tempests of scorn. The uproar of commotion of blood sanctified by the thirsty rain for the desiccated faucet of dramaturgy in reprisal for docimasy is the integral linchpin of the biocentric rebec reasting on the primitive hymns to festoon the curtains of defenestrated primitive relics of shady attempts at officious balks of the privatized empire of the alytarchs among the earwigs that simper the culled delicacy of sensible notions into the congeners of prioritization emphasized by quantulated concerns veiled by elaborative synquests that burrow the sulcate grooves of hidden hedonism for the chic magistrates of financial swoon or swayed vestiges of a forgotten calumny of betrayal by the coming-of-age sprouts of hedged dismal dismissal of a lugubrious prospect for an otherwise revitalized dressage of emoluments to glory that lurked in penumbras by rigged enumeration but found their prominence by the gravity of sensation-seeking frissons of alterations between benighted glory and the famish of artificial tethers to the yoke of caramel and chocolates as a dainty ploy of yearning persiflage also a dranger of camouflage for flagitious percolations of the invidious rumors of imposture and the groveling contempt of the known drogulus remiss in denial of its own requited date when the powers of miscarriage become ecbolic to their own lagging languor of lisps of linguistic ramparts of a revival of hypertrophy for hyperactive foibles in inclement weather. Ok beyond the absenteeism of the presence of perceived amphigory there is great heft in the nominal notion that dogma is mobilized in serviceable goods of merchandized mirrors of glazed remission of moral tender because of stoked curiosity unhinged from the pragmatica of duty. We need forbearance in empathy that loves the lovable rather than envies the deposed despotism of clever wiseacres veiled in delicate symmetry with conscience that is the quill of a wellspring deeper than any imaginary vagary can approximate because impossible events punctuate time with literacy rather than incontinence of drivel that is ambitious but ignoble by stately coherence. To the critics of the baragnosis of limited apperception my words are blatant amphigories but they only possess enough ken to fathom an average orbit of suboptimal outcomes rather than transdimensional chances at chess outnumbered by checkers by incidental design of clever ploys of rejoinder that is by design arcane for the arcadia of the pristine arcade of future possibilities  As I am purblind by psychorrhagy I am incompetent in my radiopresence because I am a departed spectral figment above fricative hisses and whorfian glares of mediocre rebec for primitive shibboleth above prized taurine anglophonic convictions that superimpose the dignified clarity of willpower above the dragnets of supersolid conflations of puffery. Ok I admit a lapse of transmission by the vesicles of numbered murders of henpecked owleries of the senectitude of sepulchral magnetism of slumber over awakened alacrity of mobilism fashioned in portentous flipcraves of additive immobility of fixed vectors seen through parvanimity that actually just swivel in circular retorts against themselves without the elaborative potential and the belabored traipse of the rabid taradiddles of sensationalism marauding as a defalcated burglary of emotion for useless psephology that predicates nothing but a slight budge in the autarky of structuralism which is never sclerotic but stammered by articulations of the overt when the covert aligns by an alien agenda that is subservient to magnified priorities of warped swirk of telescopic prevenance and hedged boschveldts of elemental and I stress the strain of the elemental for the drogulus of sensational proclamation by executive ****** but supererogatory minutiae of fascism cloaked by earwigs of repcrevel repute beyond memorialized reputation. We need to renege the southern pacts to the Argentine mandarism of reticular vitiations of cinematography waged against creative visionaries of free speech because of the succedaneum of furtive endeavors at optimization by compromised degrees of artistic licentiousness even that is never lewd about sacred roods but boorish in blockbuster rather than kempt in collectivist brunt of the timid bronteum of agitprop that lurks in the imminent future of cinema. America needs to retain the disclosed but still-frame inertia of catapulted declassification that ennobles the fliction but also the vilified distilled truths only the keen of acumen will sensibly identify so that the magnet of earwigs gravitates to the belabored analysis of astute congeners to relevant tributaries to the ocean of adventitious swarpollock in the procedural autopsy of the auditorium for neither a chattel nor a crystallized nurture against the matriotic insistence of decorum. Essentially the succubus of prosthetic protensive docimasy of imaginative logic predicated in visionary apperception of the unseen in immediacy is the longeur of reticent endeavors to pasteurize the oculus rifts of futurity to synergize with the entelechy of proactive somnambulism that sensitizes the profoundly capable but never bereaves the inept of direct interface with communicable dominion with fantasia that is an operative artifice of a beguiled lurch without purged retrograde immaterial delusion that endangers visceral momentum toward new directives of the outmantled zugzwang in elementary exercises of swaddled posterity free by irenic idolatry never orphaned by a widowed imagination. The swirk of hypostasized probabilities in an invented swipe at wide-eyed but star-crossed turnvereins for the imaginative leaps in the performative depend on the delicate swivels of declaration independent from culinary clarity of macroscian travesty rather than pinhokes of naufragues of maudlin laudable applause by the canned nurture of speculative intimation that sadly severs the curglaff of whispered intimacy over the confidence we have in artifice to teach the wragapole both matriotism and sensitive reninjasque poker without incurred damages beyond the clarified visionary potential of graphic protheses immediately perceptible to the acumen of judicious polymathy indoctrinated by the rigor of scientific grooms for melliferous parsecs of advanced minutiae of dark horses to nomadic license beyond ravenous **** palindromes of hushed vigor to the declared by scacchic deliberation to usher in crass but crestfallen synectics. The future of God is secure in the fathomed furlongs of cubic citadels of pasteurized paradise found in corralled reluctance without remonstrance of poetic belletrist resounding with clangor rather than swerved nimble potions to avert future calamities in war by the expansive frontier of a civilized metropolis of the mobilized imagination hypostasizing newfangled naturism that is neither mofussil nor a fossilized relic of scrappy schlep. The nonchalance of parlance swims in arenaceous bunkers of drivel that congregate in the turnverein of futuristic opportunism found in the muzzled directives of orchestras of departed clarity no longer so insular in its bossy imperatives but clarified with hearsay and blushed blarney not the blench of widened divulgence of minatory malice that incurs the punitive curglaff of frenetic retchallops of winsome specters becoming opportune pragmatics of a semantic network of dirigisme that through sheer horsepower overcomes the sting of ubiquity or the hollowed headless vesicles of urbacity disenfranchised by degrees of impertinent pertinacity of deposed disclosure rudimentary in sedentary simplicity against matriotic duty to remain guarded by an ommateum that fathoms the abyss but never wages reckless adventurism. Prevenance is the key to absolution but staggered implements of dearth preempt the ecbolic corrigenda of castigation by hindered lurches of veiled errundle belonging to a central trimpoline interposition of fungible felicity for not only a regional fanfare but a global scale of competitive endeavor of cleverage beyond scopes but beneath scrutinized mutiny of embanked polymathy stranded by the redstrall of industrious slavering dogmatism to a servile ***** rather than the boomerang of pressure to asseverate limitless bounds of planned obsolescence to engorge but not intimidate checkered reticence in the sinew of the musculature of creative parlance above petty finicky demiurges of latitudes in amphibious annealed glorification. Temperatures gauged by the thrombosis of thermolysis in psychotaxis gouged by hucksters of taciturn bamboozles of teetotalism are neither scourge nor foe of the strategic advent of the fascination of prospective investment a boondoggle that offsets the bonfire of retorted whimpers of foudroyant ripples of wildfire perspicacity strung by the catchpole of ubiquity in the time-honed decorum of genteel upright raconteurs of volleyed neglect by strict mandate will uproariously profit in remission from knowledgeable exacerbation rather than tomfoolery by filial tithes to foreign wardens of conspicuous levitation above gimcracks by the syrts of percolated filigrees of belabored chantage exerted over the tide of perfidy in contained discernment will stall and extinguish the prideful jostle of profane blasphemy against tacit covenants of blackguarded justice served by platitude better than by insubordinate quivers that quake because bears bounce checkered checks rather than anoint the sigillum of protective vouchsafes of exchequers smartly dapper rather than dimpled in flagrant brays of castigation and thus secure employment of instrumental advent rather than desecrated conventicles of remission.
Now it is time to ventilate divine knowledge that transfiguration means a humane liberation rather than a sanctimony of tirade against dumose proliferations of fluminous imaginary tracts of the probable rather than the certain for the elevators of sanitized wealth to bequeath greater moral clarity found in the contrary submission of authoritative parents to shepherd guarded wealth in proper husbandry of calendrical affairs to optimize the work-life balance so the biocentric imperative for sustenance renounces the moral obesity of groundless backlash in austerity and endless cycles of remorse rather than a tender mollification of sentiments away from universal kumbayas and in favor more stridently of a system that withholds the agitprop of statist indoctrination of a mollycoddle ****** within individual mandates of variable agendas of countries beyond the borderline fluid dynamics of the foibles of moral venial folly but insensitive to the dynamism of the robust virility of a wayspayed world swaying by riddled wildfires of conflated puerile stages of ludic indoctrination to the rampant perfidy of exemplary incontinence waged by Hollywood upon unsuspecting victims of inconsiderate indoctrination that doesn’t vouchsafe the prerogatives of heteronormative values that should outshine not a parochial vehement hatred or a clorence of unconditional tolerance but a chided quarantine of variegated syntalities divorced from integration rather than fostered in communal depths of bound lettered ambition found in the allegorical power of Biblical wisdom expounded by the florilegium of the religious and secular canon.
To serve God rather than the perceived taradiddle of speculative mammon deprived of classifiable certainties but hunched proclivities we need to exhort a proper seesaw between restraint in vision and exuberance in creative license so that the pivot of the moralized world leads to an insistent trust of watchdogs that through trust revolve the gravity of morale upon the upswing of liberty rather than incidental follies of imaginative demiurges of partition but blinkered hubris in stately objectives to the demur of participant malingering naysayers and nyejays. The moral gravity of the situation requires us to rotate our hype from the fervor of panic into the resolve of fortitude that relishes family and filial duty rather than resents because of breedbate instinct the flickers of smoldering rebels that are tamed in their revelry when they follow the moral prerogative of disciplined ambition in creativity not insubordinating against insurmountable limits but reasonable adjustments to a scaffold of potential that is skyscraping more than before even if its too close to the ground for comfort and consolation. Relativism is the enemy of progress because envy seeds alienation and comparison should be eschewed because we need to burrow in compassionate embrace of the cherished loves rather than the exaggerated proximity of provincial fears becoming global juggernauts of mercy upon the merciful and I convoke a global prayer for the attenuation of the virus that spreads sadly too far for comfort today. I purge out of solidarity with suffering as the milquetoast in me identifies the disconcerted avenues of avetrols trying to find a way through the forest of rumination without gingerly superlative prerogatives outweighing the poise of balance in shields of honor rather than badges of shame. We must by moral imperative greet strangers in public places like parks rather than strangulate the percolation of affection because of regnant distractions because in this congenial way we will find a common fraternity with fellow man while soldiering on to find truth in God’s word in the proper temperature for genuflection because I admit foibles but I relent not in the chase to redintegrate myself spiritually to lead a charge without trespass of fundamental dignity over the whoppers of indignation some of us might feel because of the penury of divergence rather than the private penalty of convergence for an ulterior solidarity of purpose. I need to emerge into the humanity of compassion to showcase that virtuosity can exist without obsession over one individual because God beseeches a pantheon of observation rather than the gripes of an envied nuisance independent from normal human concerns that ripple with ecstasy because of normative human contrition over the leeway on vacillated opinions that might underwhelm those disposed by prizes of inurement. We should shelve these notions of a supersolid conscience because only in the humility of the profound simplicity of elemental postulates can we achieve complete synchrony with a syndicate that enthralls both divergent and convergent movements that partially offset on the side of convergence in some communes while otherwise countermanded in others in contrarian ways and the favor of the balance depends on the perspective of the flanged acculturation of the participant in a world that doesn’t need flayed excoriation as much as it deserves proper exercise of adoration of the admirable rather than the desecration of the abominable. I return with the greatest jubilation of a reninjasque jaunty streak that hearkens the sennet and maybe the leanings of the senate to the fanfare of adoration for life and gratitude bestowed by the stewardship of God and his divine purpose to inseminate my life with purposeful meaning and happy happenstance that is a stroke of glory. I muster the resolve to traipse in the solitude of my cavern the blessings of divinity bequeathed by the departed forefathers who never intended bossy insularity of dogma to be a stricture of rigors of iconoduly but rather a consecrated wit with the persiflage of conversant tones of labile and lissome gallantry just waiting to alight upon the affectionate dance with dalliance of a philandered hope for a purified love hopefully never profaned by the pangs of scandal (note the sardonic pun) because rejoice is the gift of Heaven upon this culmination of purpose above the dross of shipwreck elevated in folly but stranded in the throes of rumination enough to hedge the boursocrats and try to inoculate the world from further panicky divisions of hypemongers of simpered precaution becoming a financial pandemic that deserves pause and poise but should not protrude above the glistening promise of the eternal wellspring of the vineyards of salvation blooming because enhanced sapience converted the flock of shepherds to tend to those sheepish in deficiency to wield a newer curiosity to replace a saddened lament not by acquiescent abandon but by the solidarity of interfaces of love replacing cast-iron idolatries I too am guilty of for the cordslave generation of itinerant distractions that wager on modicums rather than appraise bonanzas. Safety is predicated on the idea that resources should never be glazed but always apportioned with optimism because if you examine history irrational panics have always and always rebounded because of exigent actions taken by governments to restore confidence in liquidity rather than snide dismal dismissals of economic projections based on bounded rigged betrayals of primarily a global panic that a profoundly promethean intellectual verve could capitalize on its heyday to gouge people against the insensate balkanization of the future by an alienation of formidable scarecrow of invented fatalism imploding upon itself to obviate its own existence by the insistence on free thought to domineer and tower over the doldrums of a vacant man that is now occupied by the largesse of humane endeavor for a messianic voyage that consummates time itself its own captain and is partially centripetal around the juncture of All Saints Day 2008 because of its seminal significance in ushering in a new era of liberation. This justification is a gnomic axiomatic herculean ****** that catapulted generativity in creative endeavor to coalesce around an Army of Me not because of the futilitarianism embedded in its flagrant flagitious mockery of traipsed lyricism borrowed from Bjork but rather showcases the flavork of the flavenickers of ribald coarse revolution that is no longer balderdash to Bald Eagles but the prized retribution of the inviolable scruples demolished by deracinated moral relativism balking at raltention because of persnickety and tyrannical transparency that prepossesses over the lifeless livid Potemkin  Village  of Astroturf complaint malingering in pederasty over its own depraved sinuous course of diverted restraint cemented by the scythes of Village People politics benumbed over militarized betrayals that incur and invoke the diablerist prose of anonymuncle desperado mavericks that sizzle in hibernaculum to depose the autarky of seasoned growth rather than unseasonable diatribes of vitriol poisoning the posture of gentility by decree rather than by deeds of homogenized pasteurization against Lactose Intolerant Leftism and dogged doggerel of pasty subversive paranoiac hederaceous envy spawning a vituperative summation of a beatific felicity. We need to convene upon better tranceception in this axiomatic gratuity of God

DISCLAIMER: READ THE WHOLE THING IT IS MUCH MORE GENIUS TOWARDS THE END



Bypass the circumlocutions of elementary rhetoric and the obvious bulges into the ethereal realm of supersolid supercalendar emigrations of the wednongues of vogue emigrating into a new frontier of boundless awakening that blisters the sore solid metaphors of a crumbled bricolage of articulate history becoming a reiterative gabble of entropy that curdles the blood-boiling hatred of those envious of those that capitalize on the true girth rather than the flaccid otiose etymology of differential physics becoming a denatured figment of prideful imagination on a frolic with desuetude in the normalization of the wernaggles of ewnastique that defile the ridicule of even the most astute aspirations of those that despise history rather than reveling in its subtle ironies that swelter in connotation rather than suborn the cadged bridewells of those that are estranged by the Dousk Remix rather than the Voulez-Vouz Danser populism of true urbacity expanded upon a national stage as an anthem not for profligate saturnalia but rather an ode to the odium of the reckless titanism of titanic intellects clashing with the dudgeons of intermittent eye-rolling irreverence double-dealing a stacked deck of pleckigger on an intellectual stagecraft for bandwagon apostasy that leads to solidarity among tentative allegiance. We barnstorm for a grift in the grimace of an alpenglow winter to lead to the salvation of all people united under the banner of neat nexility rather than long-winded elocution reserved only for notched caliber against the nativist diatribe that serves the subservience of the engineer of the white chattel indoctrinated into turnstiles of professed irreverence for demarches of solidarity that is gainsay for gain rather than pittances for pitfall. Rhetoric should be duly curtailed against the overcomplication of hypertrophy and trimmed into the sweet success not of saccharine fads of foofaraw but engineered resistance that galvanizes albatross intellectualism into a revved engine without purpose that mobilizes because of estranged impotence in the revelry of the subtle rather than the cordial tethers of emergent entelechy of the esemplastic orthobiosis that we should all strive for not just as pioneers of the socially engineered harbingers of a remedial society but also for the trendsetters that communicate with the canvass and the celluloid rather than spelunking dormitage of drifted anomaly perceptible to everyone but heralded as prominent by the rigged ambeer of a toxicity of a plumage of city over state and country over planet. We need to provide the verdure of the verdant forest that survives the conflagrations of rage indoctrinated by systematic attempts at stilted ignorance that is engendered more by Leftism than Right-Wing thinkers because in general when observed in organic settings we notice that the Right-Wing escapes the sloganeered jaundice of limited bounds for otherwise boundless thought and provides more seminal pathways that reconcile normative virtues with entrenched inveterate harbingers of economic success. The faulty deadstocks that propel the retinoise of the anomaly among Leftism to disregard the girouettism of a world that is so piebald with dishonesty that it elects a patronage that seethes with passion but aimless in its curiosity for deeper embedded candor because the popular might count themselves among the aristocratic Left but the truly Promethean belong to a centrist tribe that borrows the ingenuity of spurned but never spurious interpretations of a sputtered history that remarks with revelry  rather than disdains with #CancelCulture irreverence that seeks to deracinate all context for insipid utopianism that is a shared prerogative of the delusional Left against their complaints of Sebastomania among right-wing zealots that are equally invalidated by the frogmarch of a dilettante history curbed in storms of a pure tempest rather than a banal reiteration of novelty phrased with participant intonation rather than blathers of whispered arbitrage ennobled by hypocrisy immune to criticism among those that crusade for economic justice without understanding formal flombricks of the true gnomic riddles of alchemy fundamental to global panoramic pleonasms becoming the aleatory vagary of admonished warning that spars against spartanism. Instead of pilfering from the exorbitant defalcation of immunized partisan bromides against the ratcheted warranty upon defective obsolescence we must coalesce around the imperious ****** of divinity bequeathing the living water of a fully-lived life that qualifies its felicity not by junctures but by an overall harmony that conforms to the finicky demands of an overly polarized complexion of dimpled conformity founded on girouettism that earns more traction than the deasil sundial emergence of brimstone rejection for alabaster limelight we must urge others to ditch the conformist utilitarian usucaption of the usufruct of manipulative sports for domineering talents suborned into inclement straits because of unwitting albatross that replicates into a fission of uniformity encapsulated in the half-assed witticisms of attempted belletrist succeeding only in alienating the noxious fumes of alveolate diminutive reduction rather than expansive detritus that scrapes the wreckage of a turmoil to build masterworks out of broken sculptures themselves indemnified from a categorical judgment by the panoramic oversight of proctored civilized ambition. We need to exhort self-education that hinges upon not a listless acquiescence to a second-exit impulsive barnacle to the urchins of brimstone because of an insipid blather of flapdoons of brittle banality because the hackencrude is an outmoded entity to the vast resources of the sizable capital of the growing power of the intelligentsia over the weakened grasp and wrangle of terminus meeting consuetude weakly enough with pleasantry to appease but ultimately a complete witwanton persiflage of sizzled destruction rather than the savory contemplation of the cotqueans of majesty derided but never derailed by terminal revivals because the generativity of the titanic original might not be a popular indoctrination but the liberated thought of the untethered is ultimately more decisive in world affairs than the synergistic hive of bees building an imperious defense against dynasty built only upon provincial hatred of hidebound illiteracy combustible into the brazen bravado of a reckless intrepid effrontery against civilized chains into the ******* of complicit interconnection rather than dissolved dissolutions that solve global problems more fundamentally rather than driving through avenues of wide pressures gilded with expansive growth but ultimately bereaved by the ultimate succor of the youthful exuberance of captive audiences rather than the wily connivance of genius unbounded. God is obviously a benevolent provider of all bounties and despite the conspiracies that predicate heterodoxy the uniform mannequin of a mascot Democracy ultimately becomes a fickle bandwagon allegiance to relationship rather than a true witness to authentic ******* to a subservient relationship to a creative God synergized with energies that should exceed all galloped windlass into demarche and expose rather than rundles of ridicule interminable because of the permanence of kitsch memorial rather than living sculpture that breathes a swiveled light that beckons preened self-accountable responsibility to a dutiful matriotic duty of optimism rather than a contrarian futility of those that despise the unequal suave crackjaw dementia of the temulentia of derangement among crowds that provide fewer bounties and more deprivations calculated to indenture need rather than motivate want. We must motivate want by fueling ambition rather than quelling dissent in defensive posture because that strategy of antinomian discord is a dead-end street against an inveterate enmity that can never be fully deposed but only opposed with nominal futility raging with violence rather than seething with the motivation to reform because reform is an efficacy mobilized. Novelty of wednongue propriety grown through the heirs of drastic impertinence gilded from the siphon of lavadero hypogeiody blasphemous in bletonism that guards a piebald scrivelo because the sought dementia of an overwrought alacrity is a purpose without a terminus but an ambition soaring through scraped ice cream stratosphere that marvels at the minutiae of the civilized anthill that becomes a beehive of industry when the rationale of moral reform becomes insuperable rather than suborned into effete recursive cycles of pittances of pitfalls obsessively pondered but never solved because the fustilugianation of a forever tampered travesty is the esemplastic rejection of a categorical aim that leans of windlasses of elegance that surpass the levy of hatred and achieve sizable filagersion to squirm above the squawk upon populace rather than the consternation of an urbane but cloistered metropolitan arrogance contravened by the historical emergence of happenstance locales fostering the most well-guarded treasures of bohemian pedigree rather than dimpled resolve faffling on ergasia in bromidrosis rather than cavorting with a skeptical indoctrination by default evaded by those that equate an improbable scenario with a definitive solution to acatalepsy quandary because by reckoning with indeterminacy we grow in historical lineaments and solve global detritus by recycling the rattled brevity of promontory preens of plumage into a recursive ostentation defalcating heavily from sturdy macroeconomic proofs of the trendsetter rather than the trend and therefore grapple with profound personalized disdain rather than cordial harmony. Essentially by the logical positivism of proof we remind ourselves that obviously a chattering blather swims in tentative irony as long as it is a penultimate relativity because the lack of capstone ensures that the relevant treads beneath the mountain of rapprochement in benign endeavors to survive and thrive in definitive conclusion rather than intermediary conclusions of amnesia in jaundice. By the gnomic apothegms that guard the fortress of the demassified we have quantulated that the preposition of continuance is in fact a guarantee of the fickle supremacy of the recent and even more preponderantly the supremacy of expectancy of latent junctures that never manifest becoming a dictatorial rule of driven alacrity of wastrels that should fast from conclusive opinion and rather favor the primordial fabric of the inveterate truths rounded by the conversion of alchemy solidified by calculated canon converging with esoteric apartheid against the simultagnosia of the simpleton drivel of primordial myths bowdlerized from history neither lewd nor depraved but moribund because of the conclusive ****** of a peremptory intermediary certainty predicating a more precise foresight. The lackluster luster of numinous foghorn subliminal graft is a nativist confusion of legionnaire mettle swaddled by the cosseted grasp of interminable boundaries that demarcate linear time even when supersolid filigrees of elemental confusion erratically swerve into oblivion that becomes a forestalled happenstance so hapless that the connivance of alveolate synergies necessarily precludes event from becoming indelible because the tentative judgment wallops the tributary incontinence of the warble of axiolative jaundice materialized by crystalline fabrication neutered by soundbyte sclerotic calculus inveterate in summations of conclusion only because of peremptory weights upon geometric certainties rather than logarithmic dampers of attenuation that spar against spartan priggish epithets upon the flamboyant grit of grisly specter of speculative sepulchral venal vanity. The timberlask cineaste irony of the partisan usucaption of sapwood is a pirated timber of startled alarm becoming a useful or useless cacophony of barnstorm for the deadstock of past cadasters of rigmarole in the docimasy of pretense in impartial circumstance in specialized oratory bounded by a hemmed bailiwick of verdure denatured by the flombricks of subtle persuasion that ignores minority fringes of opinion that occupy that majority that cowcatchers brush aside rather with cruel contemptuous unkempt slippery agenda for drivel that spawns ingeminated redoubled explosions in participle bias rather than conglomerate arraignment of arrayed brooked swamps turgid not with the pettier travesty but the charade of a brokered ceremonial calculation against the wrikpond spurious by degeneration into corruptible complicity that thrives in obscurantism but never obscurity when the omnified owns a capitalized swiftboat of never a temulentia but always an optimism in the curvature of lineaments into the self-educated shepherd of the ultimate autarky rather than insubordination in the scrappy schlep of demographic ripples of swift enrichment at great personal flops in the floppy disk of a Democratic enrichment rather than a parched rectiserial hidebound tome. A quirky time stanched by tomes of patricide against family ingratiated by parrots to anthem but lacking the lettered verve of ignoble but parsed parsecs of finite light captivated into prismatic conscience we launch the demerited ploys of foible into the heralded controversy rather than the unheralded mercenary hands behind dogmatic ripostes livid because of the suave prestidigitation of the sublime mastery of the syncopated irony of mismatch attuned to radical rhythm we become bloated slaves to a rich lineage decried widely in attempts of covert coup raxes of a largesse of continual primipara perversions of courted cotqueans of uxorious justice that by defalcating from tributary orthobiosis in specious conjecture esteemed by rattled martexts aspiring for fraternal solidarity with the ****** esteem masquerading as the auctioned flivver that the merchandise of fluminous optimism cannot be an effusive blanch of blarney bolstered by bumptious bromides of brunt blackmail but rather the artform of subterfuge needs the insidious and invidious traction of creepy Thriller subtlety to garner the vapid traction of immobilized discontent foster to malcontent rarely abridged by even the most polite courtesy of diplomacy because of inherently insatiable demand that it skulks in undetected quarters flexing in the shadowy penumbra of transparent crackjaw enigma becoming an obvious blister or a gabble of raw jaundice sweltering into thermolysis by the eventual convergence rather than the improbable divergence of fissile time beckoning its own flashy revolution while denaturing the very presence of delusion as a herald more of the authenticity of animadversion rather than the sclerotic carapace of ragged asphyxiation in the aplomb whisper entombed forever by milquetoast inefficacy in hypersensitivity rather than a flourished malfeasance of a predatory grip upon seizure among catatonic graves of incontinence braving tribulation for crucibles of the most prosodemic surgeries of the furtive froward recalcitrance of deliberation in ignominy that enables that transmogrified skyscraper of Titanic lies to become a sunken vessel of harbored prestige lost on penultimate dice rather than winning pokerish villiany. Essentially the jeer of Morel Under a Disco is a winning brandished authority to chug the capers of inscrutable difference in blandishment imposture to cavort with an elegant plot twist that enthralls abiding decay to revert into a primordial confidence of livelihood to deter the frogmarch of time into the despairing quagmires of a livid balkanization of a simultagnosia of ageotropic monoideism fomented on fervor that leads to the paralysis of privacy and the expedited furor of moribund depraved proclivity so that the offset of morale and rationale can outfit civilization to brave the tempests of cordial divisions cemented by courtesy in order to safeguard against the yeggs of paranoia seeking ultimately the craven caper of disillusioned subconsciously felt retraction of indelible deeds into evaporated constructs that vanish too quickly to spawn the vigor of a cadged and utilitarian expanse of reiterative generativity that sustains the spanned sapience of primordial alacrity to ensure that brevity in outlook becomes longevity in subsistence because without a logical positivism grounded in unshakable tenets of God the demoralization of the vast majority is ensured and entombed in aimless squalor that leads to sheepish temerity compounded by wistful latency in regretful regression rather than a spandex bluster of a bravado of obesity to weather the persnickety wednongues of perdurable badges of instinctual shame slandered into prima facie denatured transmogrified cultures seeking cosmogony out of ordinary bricolage because the eventful triage of the nimble eludes parochial sight while the vastly capable outfox and outpace with such frenetic verve that they fasten against accident and transcend against heterochrony in ridicule that the unseasonable but seminal sauce flavors better the partially indentured optimism of a curated matriotism better than it serves the obviously interminable cycle of listless demiurges of malcontent that fuel conflagration rather than reformation to their own remorseful peril. Thereby, it is obviously concluded that to micromanage a society you must exert the capacity of a selective magnetism obviously predicated on demassified capacities for oaths of gratitude to endear and endure in the humane heart for the majority that sway few but encounter many that they find proper scruple grounded on axiomatic God to sustain not a lifeless priggish inclination but a bounded felicity that is not a carapace of an indigenous and insidious decadence to the extent pursuits of happiness swelter among the marginalized majority bereaved in powerless squalor slave to temptation not to derelict fascination but to provide aim to aimlessness and predicate their worldviews not on Racial Identity Theory which postulates too many counterintuitive pessimisms that are essentially neutered fustilug predicates of a world that requires such drastic seismic reforms in societal dynamics that the earthquake capable of such a realignment would exceed a 10.5 on the Richter scale which is 32x more powerful than the biggest earthquake in recorded history that would be so catastrophic in its implicit implication of the pretense that the consummation of the theory achieves the traction necessary to jostle every crowd into alignment that the collateral damage would endanger the very integrity and vitality of the Republic itself while exerting a tremendous existential dread of radical permutation that enables many travesties that abnegate the prerogatives of a privileged society in search of a facetiously engineered impossible utopia that could only be achieved by a dictatorial authoritarianism working in concert with benumbed sloganeering to engineer pessimism and malcontent rather than nurture the fair-natured optimism of a society that flourishes because it assumes naturally that the universe conspires in the favor of prosperity. If any hint of casuistry is evident in these postulates I wouldn’t be surprised but for rhetorical sanctity it is necessary for a nation bereaved of national icons not to despise the captive imagination of tyrannical transparency but grow from the liberating and partially liberal parable of a life maximized in limber for romantic enthralled growth that heralds with due consideration the paragons of time with reverence rather than soundbyte enslavement of parochial interminable twinges of a newborn and widely shared collective guilt of a decisively antinomian and pessimistic view on the evolution of human societies beyond catchy kitsch verve nexilities of bravado mutilating thirsts for inclusive mandates that are Boa Constrictors prowling with serpentine vitriol to vastly over-represent extreme fringes to dissuade nuclear families in an overt ploy of depopulation because the truer pathway to liberation is one that feeds the hot hand in the casino and bets that the winners will always win by deregulating their ability to bet large sums because of a transcendent supersolid mastery of time that the march and demarche of a boundless prosperity gouged by the fair demands of egalitarianism enables the card counter to achieve such a decisive advantage that his indentured socially coerced eleemosynary inclination to feed the flock endures throughout all epochs because of the necessary and incumbent scruples of God-fearing men to distribute their winnings won by cheating time to conquer time itself.

i'm just the one that says words that all sound like blah blah blah... i don't mind... i sometimes ease into a swagger and tickle avalanches into sounding like nursery: blah blah black sheep... i have to belong somewhere... even if my love is a communist leftism of the missing forearm, i still have to be an aware plantagenet gardener missing my normandy and my aquitaine... (tulip and jasmine respectively).*

where man speaks, there
lies the gods' onomatopoeia
akin to creativity
the plank of wood, the burning
coal in amber,
the twinkle toes of nursery rhyme
acquiring stars,
there too the shuffling bud of keratin
bundled to suitor the execution
of the banged uvula in
spare skull named metal for cranium
and brains;
ah multiplicity of tongues for a brain,
and no multiplicity of brains for a tongue...
let the one-eyed speak... i feel
i write with an avalanche cherub
swinging my gravity to the east of my central left...
let the tongue speak...
love said: love's not there!
faith said: god's not there!
existentialism said: "i'm" ~not "there,"
i.e. i wasn't
there... mind if i am?
mind my politics *******, i mind you
politicising while i sing my big lebowski soprano:
the elitist sure care for the palette of the caterpillar tongue...
and they care more if the fun is done free...
there's a messiah among
them thus... free ****?! we got them scolded...
butterflies are awry and suo gan beatified:
iron heated burning the skin load of cover...
we'll drive these ******* out till next november...
and next november we'll have the boxing match
before boxing day...
then we'll ku klux **** the turkey into
the burning cross and wait for the jew...
if the jew don't come we'll burn the cross anyway....
and say our messiah was a nigerian with
appropriation from lady madonna the pop **** of
15min ****** warhol...
then, should we feed being displeased,
we will gather the wood bearers
and ignite the ****** wood on affirmative spin
initiatives for politicisation of non-political affirmatives...
lest they come... party-to-the-last-one-hooded-one,
we'll wave the confederate flag like a 12" **** of a ****** hanging
to displease us...
frankly my dear... i give a ****...
all those cosmopolitan one-night-stands
that gave my marriage a hats' off trombone,
i was there, when
the treaty was sound and written down -
here i return to the vulture of culture in reprimand of tastes,
here i return to eagle eyes and hyena fangs,
here i return with the mole-sight or the arching stalinist
kissing the shovel...
here i re-enter with the prickly detail of eyesight external
of the hedgehog giving me guidance / giving me vectors to
spike and incisor the plum that missed the bruised eye /
here i re-enter with the skin-headed vultures of
sunken dystopia lived in a state of atlantis
below the coaled mark of signature
in watershed hours of exempt moralism testified
as a truancy - here the skinhead vulture
heeded prior to the lion's feast.

✨ it's time for renovation; it's time for us to make a change.

• friendships are work, honour the flowers that have decorated your path and don't be reclusive.
• however, being alone is simultaneously essential: carve out pockets of unabashed loneliness, yearning, and self-reflexive intimacy.
• write with less mythological standards. your favourite authors wrote drafts, pages and pages of nothing. no one emerges like a phoenix.
• persistence and self conviction are how revolutionary girls go public, spaces of uncertainty and lapses of effort are how revolutionary girls become real & effective. do both.
• use the good silver every day because every day is all there is.
• maintain your own standards of success and never trust rich people/the police/men in authority.
• do not imagine that revolutionary ideals make you above the hu$tle: money is ***** but imagining leftism will absolve you from labour is even dirtier.
• don't stay in your lane and play by the SJW's rules. it is better to actively engage in discourse and say the wrong thing than not say anything at all. the paranoid ego will destroy activism.
• live in the impure spaces, grip hold to contradiction, language is always performative and alienated, no one "means" what they "say".
• feel the fear and do it anyway; do it wrong; do it with rigor & recklessness.
• you will never be bored because you will always have books to read. • the past never leaves: there is no time in the unconscious: everything that has ever happened is always still happening, and so don't judge yourself for still being in pain about things that happened a long time ago: "a long time ago" doesn't really mean ****.
• never apologize for crying; never apologize for not wanting to have ***.
• remember girls own the impossible, the void, the image, and when this system falls apart, we rise. we rise anyway.

everyone can agree on the fact that scholasticism
existed in medieval Europe...
i'm not even going to tackle the dichotomy
of scholasticism "vs." humanism...
but... what is apparent... from what i've heard
and seen...
scholasticism wasn't replaced by humanism...
but... pop-psychology...
i.e. the schematic-ism of man...
        Oxford dictionary has yet to approve the term:
schematicism...
   from the "holy trinity" of Freud -
the father the ego
   the son the superego
the holy spirit the id... blah blah, blah, blah...
the fragmented man in search for...
for me... less of a "soul" and more of
   the sigma... the totality of what is man...
   such the fragmentation of man...
it's almost impossible to find the right sort
of geography one can orientate oneself
around...
i find man too fragmented... too splintered...
i am sure of this...
scholasticism has been replaced with
post-humanism of schematicism....
we have the supposed schematic of man...
but... this ******* genie is not going
back into his lamp...
unless he is put back together is some
jumble, some, dissection freak-show...
    why didn't i pursue a career in chemistry:
even though i studied the art (science)
until i was 21... i didn't want to be the rat
in a laboratory...
           the hamster on the wheel...
apart from the experiment that took almost
a week... synthesising esters...
the best experiment i ever conducted was
in high school... synthesising polyesters...
the event horizon of pinching plastic akin to
how you can't mix oil with water...
how oil is a layer a "tier" above the water...
this is where i am...
   schematicism... i find man trapped...
choked by pop-psychology...
putting himself back together like some...
Frankenstein's monster...
              it's painful to watch, to hear...
it lies so heavy on my heart that...
it almost makes sense to: xiao xin...
   small heart... careful heart...
                literal ******* complimentary...
overt complications / nuances of Chinese
ideograms like i have a ******* spare
day to nuance emoticons, for, ****'s, sake!
yes, because Latin script was not destroyed
by the Hebrew deity like cuneiform
or the hieroglyphs... only that in Chinese
the X could be / ought to be written as...
                                                                      Ź...
******* lemon ******* paper dragons...
squint at my ******* sour: ooh... ooh...
gist gist: ******* juicy plum Hoisin duck
sauce! mmm... ******* yummy!
get my ******* cotton spindle threads from
Sri Lanka or Bangladesh...
Europe is the existential ferment of
existential values... as useless as a fork when
you're presented with a bowl of soup!
slurp up, and hope for the soup to be clear
and have some vermicelli to boot!
but... how else to look at public conversation?
if once upon a time in medieval Europe
there was a trend for scholasticism...
that was replaced with humanism,
romanticism, existentialism...
no wonder... post-humanism...
a return to scholasticism: schematic-ism...
i should reword it as:
a day in the life of an evolutionary
psychologist...
    but, but i thought the soul does not
exist? what logic, what soul?
since, ergo, there's no god?
           somehow the Copernican revolution
could back-peddle... return to the background...
i'm with Nietzsche in my argument
against Darwinism...
   Darwinism has mishandled ontology
beyond comparison...
it hasn't even elevated our attention to detail
/ increased our fascination with the natural world...
with... mantises... with spiders...
i'd love to rid myself of my stupid
arachnophobia... in all honesty? i love spiders...
******* super freaks...
but i think i'm more fascinated with
frogs and earthworms...
   i'd love to take a selfie with a freshly shat out
tapeworm... no... i'm not scared of spiders...
just... there's never a spider
the size of a 10kg Maine **** cat when
you need one to scuttle alongside you
on a leash... ****** reality...
i just don't get it...
               if i was once diagnosed as schizoid...
for being: bilingual...
sorry... this world doesn't want me to make
sense of it... i tried... supposedly "sane" people
are not making sense any-more...
sure... i was diagnosed as X...
but... this X is sort of... it sort of has become
a backstage: ooh: oh! ****'s about to become
acquainted with the fan... time for proper ****** blitz...
i mean: i could understand Soviet style
leftism... empire solid: cheap metal...
loads of nukes... but... western style leftism
is a ******* joke-prop...
   flimsy hair-dye brigade...
and i do come from a former satellite state
of the soviet union... the Czechs still hate the Polacks
thinking that it was Polacks that moved
in the tanks into Prague in 1968... maybe...
it was a Warsaw Pact brigade...
  whatever...
                      i still have a fetish for:
die Deutsche-Zunge...
             but see... the Copernican perspective...
you can sort of ignore... great...
   we're on a pebble in an ocean of nothingness...
nothing changes...
but... Darwinism? has been hijacked...
it's... insufferable... it's so in your ******* face...
like... feminism... Darwinism = feminism...
next you'll hear: stoic darwinism... like you might hear:
cynic feminism...
horseradish load of rubbed-off *******
*******!
          i get it! i get it! stop, rubbing, it, in!
that's it... the ******* universal explanation...
like Jesus on the ******* Cross
Herr Darwin with his space in **** similis...
odd... the ancient people had knowledge
of the existence of the apes...
but... hmm... how much of a comparison is necessary?
when you start to look beyond it...
say: well... that's ugly... that's animal...
let's do something better... let's conjure the beautiful!
these days? good luck with that!
but like Nietzsche i abhor Darwinism...
when it comes to Darwinism i'm a *******
Mary Shelley advocate... Darwin throws me a monkey...
Mary throws me Frankenstein...
i'm siding with the Frankenstein...
what the hell has changed since the geocentric model
became the heliocentric model?
from the very public interactions:
we've managed to reach the "dark side of the moon"
perspective... no... this world is...
lunacentric... everyone's ******* cuckoo...
and i will, ******* die on this little hill...
with firm affirmations and said convictions...
because... why not?
but that's good... i can scribble these little "protests"
while pretending to be the... cool... collected
normie at work... and i am just that...
but inside... i'm ******* boiling...
i'm screaming... i'm Atlas wrestling with Prometheus...
but that's also good...
   because: i'm jealous...
of whom? Charles Olson... the Maximus poems...
call me stupid but... i'm jealous of those poems...
no... i could never be jealous of
ol' Ezra... hmm... King David... oh yeah: him...
to have been the man to have written the psalms...
de profundis...
     let's face it... i couldn't be jealous of king Solomon...
brothel owner...
             but with a man like Day-vid...
   to be so absorbed in music...
               my kind of man...
                  such a beautiful man...
          as sang about via Leonard Cohen in Hallelujah...
and yes... Jeff Buckley did it better...
such the glorious spectacle of the most
absorbing sort of pain... you actually want
to feel his pain... trans-empathetic....
to hell with your trans-sexuality confusions...
    oh to feel this similar... to sigh like Jeff sighed...
this hidden-rot-of-anger in me at the political
language that's current in England...
   this... ****-fist-fake-leftoid pseudo-Soviet imitations
with no grounds in reality!
blah! blah!
                    ******* more: blah! blah!
pink-hair-dye frigid pseudo-sociopathic virgins...
or is that sociopathic pseudo-virgins?!
still ******* frigid... not good luck either left
or right when trying to shoot a load...
          i'm 35 and already tired of life...
libido insomnia... war-esque perpetuated: also
insomnia... but... clearly, apparently:
no ******* war... not the sort of wars one might
conjure when having to conscript civilians...
back-of-the-head sort of "wars"...
              shape-shifting chess... the horses ate too many
rotting apples... became drunk... stumbled...
then had a Picasso diarrhoea session of...
E-HA! let's paint! oh no... this world doesn't bother me...
it's just a massive ******* joke to me...
it's counter intuitive...
if... i were placed... in a more primitive society...
there wouldn't be a talk of a Bernie Ecclestone...
     there wouldn't be a Rod Steward...
            believe me... if Darwinism was to be done...
proper... men like me...
we wouldn't be restricted from utilising our...
naturally gifted capacities... of... wrath-thirst...
how we must have... nuanced it... hid it...
                oh... but those feminists and their:
patriarchal construct arguments...
       sure... it's only safe... when you have a boxing match...
but... i know it: there's a terrible beast sleeping
in me... i know it... when i... sometimes relax...
drinking my white wine aphrodisiac...
when having two sessions of exercise...
and then... ******* the brains out of a Turkish
******* in a brothel...
but... no no no... if Darwinism was true...
               i could follow a Longshanks... an Edward...
we're doing counter intuitive things...
Napoleon? and then, what? ******?!
the latter i can understand as a sophist / rhetorician...
whatever...
           if i were to exercise my natural rights...
if i were to exercise my natural rights...
i wouldn't have to deal with these *******'s worth
of social constructs of appeasing the time-wasting weaklings!
if i were returned to my natural state...
rather than these... polite... politeness-titillating:
Christian *******'s worth of timidity...
i hate it...
                                         everything about this world
is unnatural, counter-intuitive, overtly-feminine,
weak, pardonable, fake...
horror-stricken, worth demanding more of,
too ******* "artistic"...
       smelling of a mingling of acid and rotten eggs...
in a world where society delves into
the appreciation of staged violence...
but abhors actual violence...
    this phobia stricken conglomerate of weaklings...
if Darwinism was done: right and proper...
no... you wouldn't have these sordid discrepancies...
if nature had its sway...
          if only nature: had its sway...
and not the mind of man...
              the feminist angle: of the social construct
of patriarchy: would be the least of your worries...
i'm lethargic... borne from this...
hideous weakness of salvation born from
a suffering... never to be celebrated from
the advent of vitality that was once glorified in
the years B.C.
           Darwinism never promised anything,
it just hijacked the strength and overturned it
with psychologism - bogus explanations of
CUCKS! it ****** the vitality i was originally equipped
with! and what did it do?
the Star of David inversion...
what was once on top, singular...
now became a flattened plateau of a "democracy"...
i can't believe this anglophone *******...
Ezra rallied against usury...
   me? i'll rally against Darwinism...
a man of my stature should not have to bow
before someone biologically inferior
to him... naturally! naturally this shouldn't happen!
but it is... pray: send you earthquakes,
tornados, all the elemental proofs!
   but i bow, regardless...
                  with as much... hatred as can be
easily disguised... with more animosity than
hatred... and that's still: the sort that can be best
hidden... because... society expects me to do so...
but... should i ask nature...
oh... oh... nature would have a really troubling counter
narrative: that it would allow me
to exercise! ******* dim-wits, Dickensian *******
dim-wits... happily married to exercising the play
of cricket... ****-wits... English-****-wits;
such....eagerness...
the weak shall inherit the earth...
     and make it... a shored stone outside the realm
of the fertile grounding...
                if the vitality in our midst is not
protected... then... SUFFER!
you ******* schmucks! your ******* wonderbra
elect gimmicks!
*******: die! be: born of death!
             you've had your say / your sway:
my turn!
                ***** with anvil!
               you ******* pederasts!
                    **** glory! i just want to love
a woman... but... seeing clearly...
you people are making finding a woman...
a lot more difficult! ****-jobs of the dodo-project!
i'm retiring from outright verbiose
momentum... that's it...
                      i stroke my beard...
i cushion a feels for ****** of a woman...
the end... that's the *******: the end...
                          time's a tired type.

the **** are you talking about? i just came from there, you want me to go back, to tell you something new? (a) you weren't born under the iron curtain, and (b) you didn't live beneath it! + (c) you probably don't know many people who lived through, having been born in 1939! and yes, communist hoarded ****... you think they were all moby-esque: vegan feng shui minimalists?! barking up the wrong tree, no squirrels up there, just a ******* baboon.

i've said it once, and i'll say it again:
   the system *works -
it's a fail-safe mechanism of a worn-torn
country... that's why i don't argue
against capitalism,
but capitalism doesn't rebuild nations,
it can't:
   sometimes people have to huddle
and become "buddhists": selfless collectivists!
it's obviously transitionally orientated,
got that lead from syria,
    why do people turn all humanitarian
giving our free loafs of bread to children?
it's not supposed to be a permanent
system, for one thing:
   there is clearly an expiry date
on the packaged communist implementations...
i really do not understand western leftism...
just flew past me above my head:
giving me a haircut while it flew past...
can't say i agree...
  but then again, mullets were a thing in the 80s
with the metal scene...
   so no, you don't know veterans of the communist
idea implemented: snotty audacious *******...
not everyone required the athenian semi-detached
castle back, too much personal grief,
relatives lost, what not... communism is
spartan... but in the end, even hoarding was
allowed... notably? books... like i said,
i think i out-competed the size of a private
library compared with my grandfather...
   but i love his honesty:
  i haven't read much of these books -
odd, i own a library that i'd say i managed
to digest in the fraction of:   6.5 / 10... o.k. 7 / 10...
you can't exactly read an art book...
    or a book on b & w photography...
oh look! pretty pictures.
           dim wits, so why is it that there was this
massive fascination, under the iron curtain,
on a local small gov. level in a rainbow of sports?
everything worth citing the olympics was
taken to, it wasn't just the gulag of football,
              problem with body image?
just watch the olympics, even fat people wrestle
and lift weights... and ping-pong?
  test of reflexes...
                  how about ski-jumping?
      or szermierka? what's that? fencing,
what was pretty pop back then;
         and at least there was a celebration of manual
labour... these days?
    a real phobia - aspiring to the status of gods
we've crafted a problem...
        work is not celebrated, it's shunned -
nothing to do, and a poor inspection of being
leaves us with aspiring to be much:
   while at the same time - doing too little;
yes, i cheated the plagiarism algorithm / bot,
whatever, when writing a sociology essay at
edinburgh... i plagiarised!
   guess what, back then, in 2003 / 4 i.t. didn't
discover the cheat code: a ******* thesaurus...
so i took an essay written by an academic,
and just rearranged it, reworded, deconstructed
it, and? got a 1st.
  top notch stuff, i was never into sociology
in the first place, i just wanted to find out if i could
outsmart a computer system that was
designed to "see" whether a plagiarism was made...
kimovich kasparov would've been proud...
well, that's history,
    what else was there to say?
  ah... aphorism vii ponderings vi...
        i started taking notes...
   atheism presupposes the non-existence of god...
fair enough, but as a presupposition it's
adamant, stern, and always "seemingly" right,
if not angry, then just plain ridiculous -
     i'm a wolf that finds mauling these sheep
that gesticulate with both palms, knees and other
assortments... that's called a punch below
the belt in boxing...
     is it so hard to attack st. augustine, pascal,
or thomas aquinas, let alone maimonides,
rashi or nachmanides?
     come on... making a ridicule-centered argument
is doesn't deserve respect:
   for every ounce of ridicule - there's an ounce
of disrespect...
  theism merely supposes the existence of -
since the "law" states that
    a supposition cannot be related to a negative
expression of non-existence "of"..
while the atheistic presupposition cannot be
related to a positive expression the existence "of"...
(the inverted commas on a trivial word
like of? so i stop short of implying god, mmm'k?)
these opposites seem to be strangely
anti-chemical in relation to the mirror of chirality -
for some reason they are super-imposable...
they compliment each other,
primarily? the show must go one,
         neither side rests, and finalises itself...
why? well, if atheism is based upon presuppositonal
logic, and theism is based upon a suppositional
logic... then evidently they both share
the no-man's land of propositions...
     oddly enough the "non"-existence "of" argument
loves to be pro the suppositional circumstance...
now i know why kant focused on meditating
5 + 7 = 12...
               like a hebrew might burn the tetragrammaton
into his mind...
     it means? to ensure the rigidity of sentences,
to burn into his mind a clarifying ingredient -
that all sentences make: sense,
   with the basic arithmetic being the benchmark
for all subsequent endeavours into scribbling
down the critique: makes sense.
   now to come to think of it,
i'm purposively digressing paying attention
to heidegger's (vii, vi) -
       i just want to keep it to myself -
i might as well write it out verbatim, than try
to explain it...
  and subsequently write several other cohort
"paragraphs" stimulated by the content,
than attempt the dry martini of explaining what
he "meant"; because: he meant this.

- rock 'n' roll -
    once upon
      a time
   a Patti Smith
          in Nigeria.

on the rare occasion that i thinking to myself:
well... i'm not exactly going to end up being a millionaire...
the game is rigged... last time i heard...
poets get paid every 50 years...
    if that... but... someone has to do the workload
for the mere passion... of course: looking for other outlets
of income...
mind you... how did Bukowski get to sleep with
so many women? hmm... well... he didn't go off to fight
in World War II... i'm guessing... plenty of widows...
plenty of girls who lost their boyfriends...
to the Panzer brigade et al.,
         so... less of luck and more: opportunity came...
hell... i remember times before the advent of social
media... you... could actually date...
there was this guy in high school with a terrible case
of eczema... still managed to get a girlfriend...
i'm not going to become rich... **** it...
less chance of me looking like a sucker should
some hot fling come around and start milking me...
who vowed that... vow of poverty?
well... it's not the Medieval Ages...
   you can hardly vow to that sort of shin-dig these days...
scrape the bare minimum...
if by bare minimum implies...
   today at the vinyl shop...
         oh... wow! Matt?! what? you don't think they
have the new Ghost record, on vinyl?
what? Impera?!
    i just found Ghost B.C. Infestissumam...
   so i started fiddling around...
   sort of oblivious to my surroundings...
some pretty teenager girls... whatever...
    bothersome flies...
                       they hover around you for a while:
then notice that you're not noticing them:
******* just as promptly as they came...
    oh man... these records are getting dear...
lucky for me the ghost record was on offer...
2 for £40... ****... now i need to find a second record...
aha! Lana Del Rey's debut...
   i'd love to hear a woman's voice on vinyl:
not that i haven't...
      walk up to the counter... she's a he he's a she?
right? i didn't ask... i just made the complicated
assumption that she was a he / he was a she...
anyway... it (sorry) they checked whether everything
was in order... some cheap-*** *******
decided to take out one of the vinyl disks and stuff
the sleeve with cardboard...
   how on earth the record was returned...
beats me... well she he he she it they said: well i can't
sell you this... hell... i'll just pick something else...
originally i was going to buy the Rammstein record
with a match on the front cover and with songs
like Deutschland and Radio on it...
but when i saw the ghost record... ugh...
Lana Del Rey was a cop-out...
            what else did i have in my hand?
Patti Smith's Horses... does that album have that
song covered by American Head Charge?
i.e. rock 'n' roll ******?! oh... right... it doesn't...
pass..
             Bruce Springsteen's Born in the USA...
does that album have the song:
human touch on it?
              no? oh... right... pass...
        well... there was clearly only one alternative...
Fatboy Slim's: you've come a long way, baby...
a bit like DJ Shadow's endtroducing...
or... Leftfield's leftism album(s)...
         i was never into any club-scene...
         but these albums... don't get me wrong...
they haven't aged that terribly...
they haven't aged akin to something like...
atypically generational... lodged to a past...
the Grateful Dead... the Eagles... em... i'll give
King Crimson a pass...
              surprising... what? oh...
the Fatboy Slim record... not that i was a massive fan...
but...
it has aged really well...
then again: most electronica ages really well...
it can't exactly be innovated upon...
             dub-step tried... sure... kudos...
some decent examples...
                           but it's almost like classical music...
or jazz... the strange death of jazz...
someone should have written a book about that
phenomenon... how jazz emerged and just as quickly
as it emerged: how it died...
did the beatnik poets drag the whole jazz music scene
down with their "experimental poetry-jazz" fusion?!
that must have been a ******...
for the saxophone player... imagine having to loose
your melody to the bass player in turn losing his rhythm
with the rhythm of the drummer because...
some idiot is talking over you with half-baked
rhymes... the ******* headache...
ugh...
                  clearly i don't want to think about it...
i only wish bands like Boy Harsher could become...
no i don't... i don't want bands like Boy Harsher to become
mainstream... sure... all the success...
but with that comes a tainting...
                 i know that if i started performing some
of these scribbles... i'd stop creating new content...
un-poetic? hmm... like no one ever read Ancient Roman
poetry... try... Horace for starters... or Ovid...
they... sort of wrote like this...
plenty of conversational overtones...
to hell with too much claustrophobic techniques of rhyme...
i'm of that school: if there even is a school
of that sort... conversational overtones...
                        a narrator that can also play
a character... sort of scenario... oh... irony:
very much confusing with no quotation markers...
now i'm being doubly ironic... now i'm being sarcastic...
but it's rather pleasant to watch younglings
walk into a shop and see someone actually sieving
through vinyl records with the intent of buying them...
it's like they spotted a dinosaur...
a strange looking dinosaur since the dinosaur
is not even 40 years old...
             it's like a curiosity experiment...
but... but... you can... listen to this music... online...
yeah... but the difference between listening to music...
on your headphones... and... on a gramophone...
when the house is empty... the room is empty...
   it's a little bit different... but hey... i'm this dinosaur...
and you're circling me looking for clues to some
magical equation / thought experiment that:
i simply can't give you...
   ******: now that i'm listening to Summertime Sadness
on the earphones... i'm sad...
i wanted to hear it via a gramophone....
winter is coming to its final closure...
               here we go... libido insomnia... girls
*******... more flesh that a porky pie's worth of
rind... but good to know that some will still
keep on their napkins / diapers on their faces...
the hypochondriac types...
        well... at least i've managed to curb all
that journalistic limp-**** mentality...
the world is sort of a haze in some distant background...
it is... but at the same time: it isn't...
not for the past 2 years...
   not with the ****-show of my grandfather's
death and a bigger ****-show of the funeral...
the world: as i currently see it...
doesn't deserve me to couple myself to Heidegger's
Dasein... what was once there-being
has become: simply... there-is-being...
                           i've read enough of German thinking
to now, finally... retort as a Frenchman might:
c'est la vie!
i'm not going to touch anything by English
thinkers... i've touched enough of Newton via
Voltaire... but Locke? who else... Hobbes?!
i'm not going to touch English intellectuals...
the people who invented football... rugby... cricket...
even if they have anything interesting to add:
intellectually... the English are a pragmatic people...
they don't like cafe conversation riddles / complications...
why bother?
   if they want to be oh so practical...
so direct two-faced... let them...
               i esp. love how they downgrade the Australians
from the anglosphere...
while having their heads shoved up some
fat H'american ***...
                no... don't get me wrong... it's just....
sort of... funny to watch...
this big... English diaspora... but...
there are gradations... like... Canadians are not a laughing
stock? but... to be English is to...
have one's head shoved up a H'american fat ***?!
seriously? right now?
perhaps it's an English thing...
to see New York... to see Las Vegas...
me? i've already seen Moscow... i've already seen
St. Petersburg... i'm thinking...
ooh... the Kamchatka Peninsula...
   to hell with Finland and the rest of Scandinavia...
i might speak the language:
but i'm hardly going to blah-bah-black-sheep
go along with the narrative...
blow myself up? hardly... i say... live a little more...
let life drag you down...
       should have employed Chinese ideograms
to protect your idea-churning-machine
of liberal Englishness... no?
     not good?               what the **** is ever good
with these people?!
  anti-racist confused pebble-roast...
                 i'm not siding with the Russians but i'm
pretty sure the Ukrainians were pretty glad
when Poland was invaded by **** Germany...
i'm also pretty sure... Volhynia & Eastern Galicia...
the genocides...
   right... so why remember anything?!
i've learned that the English have this tactic...
the history of other people is... insolate...
childish... or rather: that they remember it...
while... at the same time... the battle of Hastings?!
what a ******* joke of a battle...
but hey... it's their culture... it needs to be stressed...
not... the winged hussar charge at the siege
of Vienna against the Ottomans...
but... it's childish... for me... to give my psyche to
these events... no? but... if i were to regurgitate
the history of the Angevin Empire:
all's kosher, sonny... like **** it is...
take a ******* hike... daddy... to the highest peak
of Rotherham!

somehow drunk on language: a jazz impromptu...
nothing is ever to be orchestrated
or read from a script...
    
               and drinking besides...
               a manifesto on the sly?
               i hardly think: or rather:
               i hardly want to...
               compose one...

but i am sure to find some freedom... it's not
that much... it will do: working from the confines
of a dickensian paragraph is all the rage:
of all - but not these days, to be exact...

crumbs from the table of "muse"...
   it's a low-hanging fruit...
   something of the sort of worth than can only
   be worth: merely passing the time...
    by the mortal "adventure" circuit of events...
   this is me: not being present when
   beer, or flour... or ketchup...
   or mayonnaise... or the method of frying
   using oil... or poaching an egg...
   or the litany of respective spices
   being used in a curry...
  something grand... the moderns and their:
darwinistic slyly sliding into every narrative:
ideologues of darwinism...
who are they?
the history of man...
a back and forth:
starting with / from today...
   all the way back to... primodial times...
hunters: we were...
gatherers: we were...
foragers: oh for ****'s sake: WE WOZ!

i'm tired of the monkey veil...
               at least under the iron curtain...
something of freedom trickled through
the sieve, the cracks...
      where to? given this silicon curtain:
freedom on... zee fekkin mond?
apparently very little "history" happened:
or has had to happen...

there's only now: the 20th century...
   and then... nibbles of the 19th century's zenith
of... thomas ddison and george westinghouse,
alexander bell...
       but prior to all that...
the 19th century inventors and pioneers...
the 20th century pop culture...
all those ignorant ***** prior to the grand: "US"...

when darwinism: which is an ideology...
goes beyond biology... and... like leftism...
like communism... spreads its tentackles
into all things unattached with it...
i can hardly see a consolidation argument:
an omnipresent "needle work thread-through"...
am i in denial or do i simply think that
darwinism has robbed history of time...
as a linear motivation for moving forward:
by a poppy seed's volume per year...
on one's knees: up to climb mt. megiddo?

i am pretty sure darwinism...
        doesn't have the capacity to dictate
a branch of history that stresses its presence
via etymology -
how... the word cool: is currently out
of vogue... and in decline...
               back to the reality of:
having a cold beer...
           which is cool... because a room temp.
beer is... choice:
bad-manners... crass... puke-juice...
and some others i'm tired to conjure...

  but this jumping from: primodial man:
to the current, modern man...
and leaving no traces for the middle-men...
a philip augustus of france: the capetian...
      
     pompeii: circa 70ad...
                 sometimes the gods would visit...
hermes trismegistus...
       because it was: so...
                   then again:
the darwinistic historogical reflections are
a bit like saying: we've been hoarding...
there's no brain without a fever to store all
the past claims of vanity...
but a complete whitewash...
a blank slate... to work with barely nothing...
and to dress it up to...
the language and fashionable attire...

    it's like jumping from the big bang:
a lot of banging happens in a vacuum...
              oh yeah... you can hear a needle drop
in a vacuum of space...
what a name: genesis: big bang...
big hole bang black: is the way forward...
let's breed us a middle-ground of
the copper / cinnamon royalty...
                     i start from the north...
you start from the south...
we're bound to create a new equation
for where the equator should be...
on the 23.5°N line...
that story: all out of africa...
                    who brought the albinos?!
but do you come across a copper cinnamon
people quickly?
   it's mongrel of... black words on white paper...
there's even a name for it... tropical:
and cancerous...
    because you were never to witness...
what happens...
when there's a first investment in mixed-race
coupling...
   come the second generation and the bleaching
is continued:
               there pops up a curiosity:
like afghani blue eyes...
              
perfectly matched-up insomniac journalism
and darwinistic historiology...
   oh: everything that came prior...
insignificant...
  but i am sure i wasn't there... when...
flour first came into "being" and when eggs
were first harvested for the mass production
of cakes... and when there came about
a domestication of a mountain goat...
or how the cow decided: two stomachs best...
and a... digestion process that...
well: it's pretty much an imitation
of that of a fly... which is why: let man conjure
up elves, orcs... and let the gods mind
conjuring up: elephants and... sloths...
and... the man who invested in trans-genderism:
consciously ingested a tapeworm embryo...
to feel: what a "foetus" would feel like...
what is the tapeworm... if not the placenta
without a mouth?
                      
    islam and hair... though...
               is hair all, that?
                   what about: the manic pixie haircut...
tomboyish... slanting almost shredded
in look...
                  what about:
a fly in a champagne flute...
    or... there's a hair in my soup!
       i know that some people react to hair...
in soups... with... a... 'get it away from me!
poltergeist! poltergeist!'
          hair... long hair... does it have
to be about hair?
   i don't seem to be lacking in this grace...
                               but a perfect skin...
   oh sure... said the bearded-lady...
or the french: au naturel propagators...
   but why is fair such a must: must... fancy?
was there this 6th century affair for bad
teeth as there might have been for...
greasy wigs?
            
                        now wouldn't wearing
a hat like a hebrew might wear a kippah...
notably in those 1950s movies...
    and prior... to have to be always attired
with some headgear...
                and... the trousers whereby...
they reached up... to the mid-torso...
     and would never be... worn like today...
under the bellybutton...
  
   hair... hair in my soup = there's a fly in my
champagne flute...
   i'd probably gag less at the fly...
     spawn of the disinfecting maggot brains
that would sooner feed on dead-flesh
than...

   maggot bullets for every zombie apocalypse...
a maggot bazooka...
maggots grown as g.m. crops...
fused with... piranha d.n.a. branches so that...
they could bite exponentially: quicker...
like jigsaws for jaws: or
                   super-slurper-vacuum openings...

this menacing: over-arching... shadow of time...
if there's no past worth to remember:
or its picked-and-mixed like penny sheets
or like extracts from the goodbook
for the apologists...
                                        but talk about...
the time it takes to boil a litre of water...
and the time it takes to... produce a bottle of wine...
jumping down from a tree:
huddling in a cave...
coming from the ***-side of Versailles...
then moving into... a communist concrete
chicken-shack...

                 and now:
journalistic-insomnia...
                                and... the forgotten fire
with exception to the candle:
               U.V. and poltergeists of neon...
always to be given... reiterations of reality...
while also... attempting to digest...
a thinning ice of fiction: narrations per se...
      
      i call for the federation of niqabs
and foreskins...
              at least a ******* is that sort veil:
that veils the least...
there are those ***** hairs
i call a beard...
and come: the story of the moon...
and there's artificial lightning:
i can actually compete with mel gibson's
"gibbon"...

            otherwise for me: the niqab of the soul...
or: why is he so: "ouch-tistic" rummaging
with his schizoid eyes:
averting the look of what's become:
the mini-skirt: perpetuated *****...
if only i had lived to have lived:
an aborted foetus...

    thank god for bulgarian prostitutes!
than god for bulgarian prostitutes!
a whole lot of them that just want
to ****!
the double-twist of: there's a ******
tux for every uncircumcised male: waiting...
liberal socialist democracy has:
zilch on the matter...

i'm still more bothered about how
darwinism made its plug-hole manoeuvre...
an apple a day: keeps the doctor away...
a poem a day: keeps the psychiatrist at bay...
for such advances in medicine and science:
that these branches still allow
sadists armed with pharmacological weapons:
calling the brain a... chemical soup...
i am not that much half-... Brian ist tod...
but i'm also hardly the
cucumber schumacher...
                 when skiing: just because:
and the snow forcaste is like what?
a burning tire exercise?!

                    if i was truly angry: i wouldn't be writing...
to invest in a boxing duvet wrapped up
in clingfilm... not my thing...
i like to see anger... evaporate at my fingertips:
rather than clenched into a fist
for a knuckle arithmetic...

how can i become: silly / angry about
english girls groomed and gang-***** by pakistani
men...
   remember: i'm the abortion that didn't
happen that somehow wrote this:
i wouldn't be touched: or ****** or...
                    all because: this one time...
at band-camp... there was a girlfriend and i
should have known better...
and for all i know: roulette and blackjack...
and if not mine...
then his... and that's 5 children squeezed
out from her ****: when i would have
advised for a caesarean section because:
a toddler's head would not be anything:
quiet close to... my ***** envy of...
a 12" **** of a roach...
and a kim kardashian ***...
which would be necessary...
                   to... wade through all that
gelatin bubbling and trembling!

my ideas concerning homosexual ***:
thank you, the kiss was great
is the gaybar...
but... i am confined to...
enjoy taking a ****...
esp. diarrhea consistency type:
i sometimes catch myself with an onomatopoeia
of a groan...
    something is always supposed
to come out... rather than in...

i'm still not angry... if i weren't an abortion...
then i'm expected to be...
eyes-darting autistic...
hardly able to read into
a physiognomy...
   i must be: unable to: interpret a smile...
i am drying up on finding new music...
so i must be outside the compensation
parameters of an "in-crowd"...

                i have to... most probably...
start working a genesis with a niqab...
or i have to make donning sunglasses
mandatory for men...
like... oh god: don't invite stiching
the eyes shut and the cenobite Butterbite...
what's a butterbite?
a butterbite mistakes oral *** performed
on a ******* for an oyster...
sooner: rather than later...
the **** becomes the oyster...
the oyster becomes a tulip...
the tulip becomes a slab of butter!

because: we're expert at this...
schumacher is still a ******* cucumber...
and it's not like, death:
this instant... a tweet...
or a telegraph...
it's a bureaucratic "backwards and forwards"...
watching paint dry...
or catching a snail on the nod...
an itching spider without a web:
a very abled... sportartenspinne-mann...
     spandex galore: clue?

hell... i was thinking about...
how more agile:
when darwinistic ideology would come
to ruffle the feathers and sieve...
and what became of existnetialism...
headaches and minor indigestion faults
from the 19th century: Denmark
would: or could become more apparent...
ruffle the feathers...
pluck them from a chicken...
poach it for a soup...
       perhaps roast another one...
skin the pig and cure and later
curate the skin that would become
a leather for a belt...
                
   darwinism and historiology...
heidegger might have summoned the term...
but he wasn't "battling" with english:
islander-thinking...
           "solipsism"... or for that grandiosity
of: the great h'america:
our best kept: interlude...
constantly revived: beside the confines
of Idaho...

          and the modern "question"
of islamic religiosity...
i call the same...
the mind is less obviously tinged
with... markers...
akin to... isoprene and atomic chlorine...
after chernobyll:
why was liquid iodine prescribed
to pregnant women?
markers: like dyes...
  to invigorate the "sedation"
of... an otherwise invisible reaction taking
root: or place...

islamic religiosity is...
very much akin to darwinistic historiology...
the study of history via monkey-dough
and brains and somehow also the ****:
the building block of aztecian flat-top
pyramids...
                islamic religiosity is...
the 17th century looking at 21st century...
darwinistic historiology is...
the 21st century...
looking at totem and the primodial man...
encompassing him in the present...
the 2nd through to the 18th century
are a bit of an amnesia...
better call it a lobotomy...

               there's knitting! there's picking!
there's the apologetics...
history taught from the perspective of darwinism:
is very much akin to history:
taught from the perspective of communism...
i'm sorry: one ape one world...
i do see the fullness... from the perspective
of a microscope... that becomes
the bottle-stump... once i'm finished with it!
having drank my fill!

to romance the vampire is to also
romance h.i.v.
                how does darwinism fare against
the backdrop of: orthodox: strict...
since there is no true darwinism in nature:
and nature: vetos... whatever are the opinions
of the ideologues:
the sieve... the harvest... and the discarded...

there's always an alternative:
etymological... in that...
prior to the written word...
there was the reasoining abounding in...
what came thirst:
the "d" of Δ... or the Δ: a triangle?
               can a sound akin to "d":
occupy... a sound... geometric tool for
exploring... O... omicron...
what came first? "o" and oh...
the phonetic encoding: O...
OΔ...
                      just a suppose...
                                  
   what letters: from greek... could have been
borrowed from the natural world?
O: moon and sun...
         Δ: the mountain...
                 β - a ***** and an ***...
          ζ and ξ - a serpent...
               ι: the fraction stick... and arithmetic
counter to a • or an apostrophe '''''''''''
                waves of omega and the mu(se)...
   prior to the key and the lock and
a door: φ (key inserted)...
              θ (key turned)...
            ψ (door opened)...
           i.e. Ug (Yγ): a tree...
                         applied to the key and door?
it's not a hammer... there's no nail...
                      eta (H): rugby goalposts...
    
etymology doesn't suffice...
      the words will become morphed...
the letters are a priori...
   as numbers are...
but... whereas numbers remain intact
within the confines of a priori:
letters take on a posteriori meanings...
notsably eta (H): the rugby goalposts...
or the "vector":  (φ, θ, ψ)...
rho implies: an amputee sysiphus...
but rho is a P... hence...
the lost thrill of a R put against
the wall: and shot to a trill!
a rattlesnake ramble! mein gott!
what loss: in english and tarantula
numbed! i walked down a road:
that almost became: woad;
sly little *******...
give me a universal language...
and i'm pretty sure that it will not
be one... with a skeleton of ancient
roman to master and craft with!
donkers... plump plums in "origin"...
a Baghdad...

since the full mechanisation of the key
and lock are not represented:
but rather: insinuated...
                        
                        but there is a door...
imagine, to boot...
that there's, also, somehow...
a necessity of a doormat!

- because in vestern europa: it's about time for:
"zee... pudding-reis-poodle-tops!"
much easier laughing at german
with some "vikings" in tow...

i just abhor how darwinism has become
the neu-ego of history: "abided" by...
like... this be the zenith and 100 years
from now... people will not laugh...
or... i much prefer: scold and frown at...
because i much prefer to be baptißed
using boiling...
         using water... that might allow
me to escape... the confines
of a couch: the comforts of a skin...
and all matter of leather: thus concerning...

i am happy to allow myself the following
sentence: the rats and the moon will always
tell the better "story"...
  liberal hard-ons that are hardly quantified
as matchsticks...

you're looking for communits in your current
"conundrum"...
looking for "them" leeching and lurking
from beneath the eisenvorhang?!
          ostenberlin?!
                       i had the impression...
that... your comforts... your dickens...
your semi-detached bogus heavens...
and that's what was required...
for you... to breed your own...
without having to...
outsource the idealists:
                     your... 'aggis neeps and tatties:
roots of "origins"...
you have your own sort of communists...
mostly t-shirt print enterprises...
and... whatever...
looking for communist from under
the iron curtain...
is about like scounting for both
rats and cockroaches...
and a honing idea of the hive...
because rats wouldn't eat roaches
and the two could, somehow...
fashion of symbiotic vogue affair...

you know what ****** me off...
the most... about not being english...
leverage of pompous audacity to state
the most: infantile opinion...
worded: i know:
you cough... i sneeze...
we'll reach an equilibrium, at some point:
to make references to:
and a past...

precedence: to "think" is to:
th(ought i)... and all that's counter-productive of
"i labyrinth" and: thought and i...
or... scalpel: nurse!
grammar! genius! ******* rollerskating chimpmucks...
and... h. p. lovecraftian odes to...
squids... in less than the already:
"murky" waters of... perfect the... widespread
genius of comedy...
via... ridicule... via... bulimia...
via... cooking a steak: well-done...
over-cooking pasta:
the diet of al dente...
                             burning a mushroom:
not being to: not being able to:
and that: to Baghdad... from Loon'don...
                  virtue signalling:
a clap is... 1/100 of a fraction of...
someone... being deaf and having to resolve
the matter: sign-language about to be translated
into... braille!

the islamic religiosity of "today" is about as
mcuh equivalent as the "today":
under darwinistic historiology...

looking for communists from under the once
former iron curtain divide?
good luck: i'm wishing it unto myself:
about to find Mongols in... Kiev!

came across some burden of a sourdough:
and it's like in england:
it's "theirs": never the agony of eating...
a bread... designated to be toasted...
when it just had to be... eaten... "raw"...

what's the fan-base for raw herrings...
within the confines of Nippon...
or these... grandeours of the:
only isles... my ideas to make
metaphors of the crucifix?
a ******'s riddle...

we're looking for communist: y'all!
i'm looking for Belze...
                  and: mādégehirn-verrotten
         und rätsel: ungezieferfreude...
zylinderanziehen: der großartig:
     schwule -            
der: scrumptious...
                                               fladenbrotmann!
bessermann: das englisch...
                   herr portillo... chuckles should
it come to:
   steam-trains and replicas...
and politics: was never really...
about harems and hard-ons...
                                       really?
ask a Baghdadi then: if you pleaz...
Lawrence!

chance of me being spoken to in russian...
and being: reciprocate...
are all yours: slim jim!
  no... seriously...
a ***** of a language that is...
english: i am... most astounded that...
there are some peoples of this world
that have not: yet... allowed themselves
to translate this:
bellybutton orientation of the world
via genus: greenwichus...
to be: unifying versed: et al.

        i must bees the retardedwoz... kin:
and oops some year later...
or: to hell with keeping up...
anything beside the appearing so...
i:  "for the love of the countrymen"...
of which i have none:
are 9 my commuter friends:
and with the romanians...
and the bulagrian ******...
the polish plumbers...
the english... could have their catwalk
of opinions!
who skinned the chickens
and who did what: my shadow lacked
or i slacked over with?

i want to forget because
i just don't want to unravel in...
i would work an honest's day... of worth...
if i could work for a: get together...
or none...
             it's so disorientating...
and... lacking in motivational bravado...
to have to find one man: working...
and the other: *******!

   talk about... having to resort to mind:
the manners to count jack'oh the ol' keeper...
because: abortion signification is
burning a foot in the sole
of my shoe...
and i'm about to make do with
walking a ******* mile...

               and there i was... conjuring
the fetish fancy:
all it would ever take...
was to pretend to... attire oneself /
i.e. make pretences of: pweeety pretty!
i like being governed by:
you have to be wrong...
for the mushroom and tapeworm
and the cuckoldry muppets to be: oinking:
and with a nodding:
the holy approval as: no other route...
other than them being "white".... Rrrrrrridle
no?
                     no -ight then!