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judy smith May 2016
For the fifth year in a row, Kering and Parsons School of Fashion rolled out the ‘Empowering Imagination’ design initiative. The competition engaged twelve 2016 graduates of the Parsons BFA Fashion Design program, who "were selected for their excellence in vision, acute awareness in design identity, and mastery of technical competencies." The winners, Ya Jun Lin and Tiffany Huang, will be awarded a 2-week trip to Kering facilities in Italy in June 2016 and will have their thesis collections featured in Saks Fifth Avenue New York’s windows.

The Kering and Parsons competition, which is currently in its fifth year, is one of a growing number of design competitions, including but not limited to the LVMH Prize, the ANDAM Awards, the Council of Fashion Designers of America/Vogue Fashion Fund, and its British counterpart, the Woolmark Prize, the Ecco Domani fashion award, and the Hyères Festival. among others.

In the generations prior, designers were certainly nominated for awards, but it seems that there was not nearly as intense of a focus on design competitions as a means for designers to get their footing, for design houses to scout talent, or for these competitions to select the best of the best in a especially large pool of young talent. Fern Mallis, the former executive director of the Council of Fashion Designers of America and an industry consultant, told the New York Times: “Take the Calvin [Kleins] and the Donna [Karans] and the Ralph [Laurens] of the world. Some of these people had money from a friend or a partner who worked with them, but they weren’t out spending their time doing competitions and winning awards to get their business going.” She sheds light on an essential element: The relatively drastic difference between the state of fashion then and fashion now. Fashion then was slower, less global, and (a lot) less dominated by the internet, and so, it made for quite different circumstances for the building of a fashion brand.

Nowadays, young designers are more or less going full speed ahead right off the bat. They show comprehensive collections, many of which consist of garments and an array of accessories. They are expected to be active on social media. They are expected to establish a strong industry presence (think: Go to events and parties). They are expected to cope with the fashion business that has become large-scale and international. They are expected to collaborate to expand their reach, and while it does, at times, feel excessive, this is the reality because the industry is moving at such a quick pace, one that some argue is unsustainably rapid. The result is designers and design houses consistently building their brands and very rarely starting small. Case in point: Young brands showing pre-collections within a few years of setting up shop (for a total of four collections per year, not counting any collaboration or capsule collections), and established brands showing roughly four womenswear collections, four menswear collections, two couture collections, and quite often, a few diffusion collections each year.

The current climate of 'more is more' (more collections, more collaborations, more social media, more international know-how, etc.) in fashion is what sets currently emerging brands apart from older brands, many of which started small. This reality also sheds light on the increasing frequency with which designers rely on competitions as a means of gaining funds, as well as a means of establishing their names and not uncommonly, gaining outside funding.

The Ralphs, Tommys, Calvins and Perrys started off a bit differently. Ralph Lauren, for instance, started a niche business. The empire builder, now 74, got his start working at a department store then worked for a private label tie manufacturer (which made ties for Brooks Brothers and Paul Stuart). He eventually convinced them to let him make ties under the Polo label and work out of a drawer in their showroom. After gaining credibility thanks to the impeccable quality of his ties, he expanded into other things. Tommy Hilfiger similarly started with one key garment: Jeans. After making a name for himself by buying jeans, altering them into bellbottoms and reselling them at Brown’s in Manhattan, he opened a store catering to those that wanted a “rock star” aesthetic when he was 18-years old with $150. While the store went bankrupt by the time he was 25, it allowed him to get his foot in the door. He was offered design positions at Calvin Klein (who also got his start by focusing on a single garment: Coats. With $2,000 of his own money and $10,000 lent to him by a friend, he set up shop; in 1973, he got his big break when a major department store buyer accidentally walked into his showroom and placed an order for $50,000). Hilfiger was also offered a design position with Perry Ellis but turned them down to start his eponymous with help from the Murjani Group. Speaking of Perry Ellis, the NYU grad went to work at an upscale retail store in Virginia, where he was promoted to a buying/merchandising position in NYC, where he was eventually offered a chance to start his own label, a small operation. After several years of success, he spun it off as its own entity. Marc Jacobs, who falls into a bit of a younger generation, started out focusing on sweaters.

These few individuals, some of the biggest names in American fashion, obviously share a common technique. They intentionally started very small. They built slowly from there, and they had the luxury of being able to do so. Others, such as Hubert de Givenchy, Alexander McQueen and his successor Sarah Burton, Nicolas Ghesquière, Julien Macdonald, John Galliano and his successor Bill Gaytten, and others, spent time as apprentices, working up to design directors or creative directors, and maybe maintaining a small eponymous label on the side. As I mentioned, attempting to compare these great brand builders or notable creative directors to the young designers of today is a bit like comparing apples and oranges, as the nature of the market now is vastly different from what it looked like 20 years ago, let alone 30 or 40 years ago.

With this in mind, fashion competitions have begun to play an important role in helping designers to cope with the increasing need to establish a brand early on. It seems to me that winning (or nearly winning) a prestigious fashion competition results in several key rewards.

Primarily, it puts a designer's name and brand on the map. This is likely the least noteworthy of the rewards, as chances are, if you are selected to participate in a design competition, your name and brand are already out there to some extent as one of the most promising young designers of the moment.

Second are the actual prizes, which commonly include mentoring from industry insiders and monetary grants. We know that participation in competitions, such as the CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund, the Woolmark Prize, the Swarovski, Ecco Domani, the LVMH Prize, etc., gives emerging designers face time with and mentoring from some of the most successful names in the industry. Chris Peters, half of the label Creatures of the Wind (pictured above), whose brand has been nominated for half of the aforementioned awards says of such participation: “It feels like we’ve talked to possibly everyone in fashion that we can possibly talk to." The grants, which range anywhere from $25,o00 to $400,000 and beyond, are obviously important, as many emerging designers take this money and stage a runway show or launch pre-collections, which often affect the business' bottom line in a major and positive way.

The third benefit is, in my opinion, the most significant. It seems that competitions also provide brands with some reputability in terms of finding funding. At the moment, the sea of young brands which is terribly vast. Like law school graduates, there are a lot of design school graduates. With this in mind, these competitions are, for the most part, serving as a selection mechanism. Sure, the inevitable industry politics and alternate agendas exist (without which the finalists lists may look a bit different), but great talent is being scouted, nonetheless. Not only is it important to showcase the most promising young talent and provide them with mentoring and grant money, as a way of maintaining an industry, but these competitions also do a monumental service to young brands in terms of securing additional funding. One of the most challenging aspects of the business for young/emerging brands is producing and growing absent outside investors' funds, and often, the only way for brands' to have access to such funds is by showing a proven sales track record, something that is difficult to establish when you've already put all of your money into your business and it is just not enough. This is a frustrating cycle for young designers.

However, this is where design competitions are a saving grace. If we look to recent Council of Fashion Designers of America/Vogue Fashion Fund winners and runners-up, for instance, it is not uncommon to see funding (distinct from the grants associated with winning) come on the heels of successful participation. Chrome Hearts, the cult L.A.-based accessories label, acquired a minority stake in The Elder Statesman, the brand established by Greg Chait, the 2012 winner, this past March. A minority stake in 2011 winner Joseph Altuzarra's eponymous label was purchased by luxury conglomerate Kering in September 2013. Creatures of the Wind, the NYC-based brand founded by Shane Gabier and Chris Peters, which took home a runner-up prize in the 2011 competition, welcomed an investment from The Dock Group, a Los Angeles-based fashion investment firm, last year, as well.

Across the pond, the British Fashion Council/Vogue Fashion Fund has awarded prizes to a handful of designers who have gone on to land noteworthy investments. In January 2013, Christopher Kane (pictured below), the 2011 winner, sold a majority stake in his brand to Kering. Footwear designer Nicholas Kirkwood was named the winner 2013 in May and by September, a majority stake in his company had been acquired by LVMH.

Thus, while the exposure that fashion design competition participants gain, and the mentoring and monetary grants that the winners enjoy, are certainly not to be discounted, the takeaway is much larger than that. These competitions are becoming the new way for investors and luxury conglomerates to source new talent, and for young brands to land the outside investments that they so desperately need to produce their collections, expand their studio space, build upon their existing collections, and even open brick and mortar stores.

While no one has scooped up inaugural LVMH winner Thomas Tait’s brand yet or fellow winner, Marques'Almeida, it is likely just be a matter of time.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney
Classy J Nov 2016
Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
it's almost beautiful, we created the thing called
money, in order to turn tribalism
into a myth of Eden (alone, stark naked) -
          it's almost as if we deviated from
creating it and asking for family values,
            but never got them,
       i'm trying to imagine a Russia where
Rasputin wrote a book
that might have resounded with Nietzsche's
ubermensch - but thankfully precipitated into
world war i & ii... fancy the interlude:
a cold war i, now the cold war ii...
you should be happy, to be honest, it's the best
status quo you'll ever get...
but **** me, 1970s disco craze: even i'm
like Mozart-who?
               a little notebook, and my getting
drunk thoughts in it, funny how drink intellect
knows all too well about the: diminished responsibility
white flag -
              as with the **** chokes come the
drunk-and-writing-a-poem jokes,
                                i'd say blame Al Capone!
you know how many diacritical distinctions i could
insert into that surname? diacritical marks
are ulterior forces at-be when all punctuation goes
*******, not sentences, but words -
Cá       ponè - cockney slang Capone on the phone:
        we had fun: because you really don't say
Cáponé like you might say a torero's olé, do you?!
me? i find it grand to paint syllables with
diacritical marks, i mean: it's not even a blank canvas,
shame the semi-colon isn't minded in distinction,
but still, i already know that poets are scared of
punctuation, hence breaking the lines and not
engaging in a paragraph... tying shoelaces seems about
fine when it comes to modern poets,
talk about knitting jumpers, or scarfs by grannies -
sold as doing that same activity on shredded wheat cereal:
- = a hanging pause (suspense);
       , = necessary pause (or the expected
in a rhythmic cyclone);
   then i say to all my would be assassins:
you'll be doing me a massive favour, to be honest.
at times it really is the age of trusting entertainers
and not the media and certainly not the politicians -
it's almost stating the obvious.
i was in St. Petersburg for a month, and every time
i wanted to go to a danceclub to dance she refused me....
me and my naiveness in thinking that people could
actually be seduced by good...
      i don't mean being exposed to a tsunami
among the other elemental congregations of Shiva
there goes my belief in people being good to each other...
shoom! gone... bye bi!
(origins of dyslexia? maybe).
                                 she took me to the opera and
she started her snarling condescending approach to
the new-rich girls in the next booth...
     **** me, relationships leave me so ill-equipped
i actually find it staggering that i had any...
                 i must have been really naive in believing
that people could do good that i ended up
   a hermetic pessimist or misanthrope -
i never expected to be one, or share the juices of such
a calibration of humankind:
but it's funny how a movement overstates the cartesian
sum and never the cogito,
and when you by chance encounter the actual cogito
organising a movement, you represent nothing
representative of the movement's sum,
because the cogito is actually so staggeringly
divergent from being affiliated to the (e.g.)
         French revolution's guillotine locomotive.
when utilising only one hand in writing?
a black notebooks is written into at a rhombic degree,
yep, slant.
        i have two or three decent points to make,
but, obviously, i have to utilise verbiage to state them,
let's compare that to building a thousand homes
before the leaning tower of Pisa comes along
and people say: wow! in the immediate sense i
will require compensating that exception with
enough social housing for the tower to actually be erected:
that's natural: regurgitating maxims from no experience
would be an equivalence to an exoskeleton:
no experience, no harm... and where's the fun in that?

(interlude no. 1)

almost 15 minutes in an opera house, long enough
for the march from your seat into the street and a smoke,
  i still can't understand while people adopted money
for the demand of talking to each other via pebbles,
we are in our billions and made it so demanding to
only appeal to the few for company... i mean, should
i be sad? we made our company so unbearable because
of engaging in the concept of money that we later had
adapt to books as the conversations we need to have
among people we can't even talk about the weather to.
people always think that talking about money is
shallow... as if it's some really necessary version of
the crucifix (which to my mind sounds like a name for
a charity and the need to be thankful for it being there),
then again: something so geometrically pure
hanging over us and then comes Rodin's the kiss:
that really is a miracle - walking on water can hide itself,
turning water into wine (40 days & nights in the desert would
do that to you, every time you rehydrated, any liquid
would be intoxicating).
             oh hell, i have the notebook narrative,
i need to take a break after having written the unexpected
intro, and subsequent interlude.


it seems to me that language can never be sampled,
sampling language
is anti-scientific,
because it breaches an objectification of things,
which sad,
    are the Balkan states Slavic, Christian or Turkish?
i'm asking because a Greek said
it's Byzantine, and then lapping allah illha Allah
turkish took to Istambul...
*how best to defame a god with ensnarled capitals,
each, levelled,
                                only Islam will reign under the
praise of my name, which alone, will sing my praise.

   to move mountains, one must move throngs.
          to move people you expect them to become
mountains: or sun-tanned noon
  having been charcoaled into obliteration.
     one thought: an ottoman janissary: and vlad
the lesser crucifier and the adamant
impaler, who said that homosexuality shouldn't matter....
   imagine the comparative pain...
i can't: therefore i won't.
                     thus the black scripts of notation...
better than uttering original maxims,
          as in... better to engage in transcendentalº
dialectics
     ºin ref. to Nietzsche: the masses do not hold
an opinion on sanity: hence my concordance
with "him" - and insanity in individuals (self-dividing
                      duos in calamity of one):
insane individuals are rare: but conglomerates are
the norm - thus an agreement of shared truths
that has no debate to support it, because it has been
"plagiarised",
   the transcendental aspect is the lack of dialectics
(replaced with diacritics),
     and also the historical novelty of shared observation
with a disparity of a century's worth of history:
governing still the caveman and the modern man,
            as if the two were mutually compatible.
that one could rewrite the other, and so too true in
reverse.
   i find it harsh having to relinquish the authority
of language, as my own it used,
but only when school-friends suggest it, those
with ******* family members do i foremostly
experience it as my own: well... thanks to you
i'm not a plumber because your father detonated
the atom bomb and never bothered checking what
the gorilla did next with the grand censor of fertility
to protect an aesthetic...
           but then again: you were always Irish.
oo! well: sodomite that oops... it'll be worth something
in 30 years' time. strange how it must read...
Holocaust deniers also have the same lysergic trip.
             insanity in individuals is rare,
among groups it's the norm, within a framework
of Nietzsche: thus an agreement of shared truths,
that has no debate to support it,
because it has been "plagiarised" (necessarily experienced
more than once),
   ºthe transcendental aspect is the actual lack of
dialectics, and also the historical shared novelty of sharing
of observation (the tsunami cult, the earthquake cult)
with a disparity of range toward the century-range...
   philosophy infamously aks purposively
unsolvable questions: or questions that require many
more questions... or what is known as a transcript
of Aristotelian awe: of those who commit to error
with that science of pure wording, to spur people on;
philosophers are the adventurers in error:
only because this engages them in providing a "gravity"
locus... for others to hone onto and correct...
(oh how i'd believe had there been a Koranic surah
on the mindful hoplites)...
         purposively erroring: philosophy;
philosophers are pioneers: birches... scientists
are all but oak: auburn well established.
       but what of transcendental dialectic that expands
into shared truths (as experience) within the dual-disparity
of nearing death and the dawn of the 20th century
   and never-nearing a life at the dawn of the 21st century?
excluding dialectics and diacritics has given us
such a society, where everything is nearly snowflake
lucratively dissolvable and gentle...
                   few people utter truths,
even fewer utter truths than need to be debated...
             for the over-lord truth is mono, or glue...
        but still the tactic of avoiding certain truths
for the necessity of sitting in an armchair rather than
on a cold pavement... for in their pluralism
they express as many universal traits of non-experience,
as they subsequently express enough
    particular traits of experience
(translate rhyming into philosophy and you get this...
going cross-eyed in allocating an understanding,
summarised by the word zez).
hence the unwinding: universals (x, ÷):
       and particulars (+, -):
    of time, and how to encourage abstracting
worded coordination into an advanced literacy rate,
that'll fail, because literacy is power that requires
labouring anyway.
  because you did say "encapsulating a zoo"
readied to perpetrate a staging of a freak-show.
examples: universals (x, ÷):
       and particulars (+, -)        are zeniths in
the narrative compensation to nothing -
        in literature a surprise turn of the plot,
a summarisation, as such stand-out moments,
or quotes: here is a version of encoding verbal
"mathematical" synonymity -
         i too would wish to create a language
that doesn't abide by the language of miles,
but that of metres, but then there's the thesaurus
distinction between metres in deviations of
centimetres and nano in close-proximity
          ruby, crimson, burgundy, bled throughout the week
until pale grey and with an epitaph.
      language never brings us together,
it never did, we all wished to be cats and have said
meow... but we rarely and will never say...
that's nearing toward shame...
  i absolve humanity of the original sin...
                    if sinning was so original i would suggest
other forms of compensating it rather than prayer:
i'm thinking of the original shame...
it's that story of a serial killer who believed he
had no universal traits concerning him,
he had no systematisation of conscience,
he denied having a sense of guilt...
          it's hard to believe such things,
given the ceiling is the universe...
        it's hard to become a rat in a solipsistic maze...
that's ****** had to believe...
                   to deny having universal a priori
is also to deny particular a posteriori...
                           even though nothing really happened
apart from god laughing and man yawning
and the devil crying. it's very hard to believe people
these days, even though they deserve it,
                    it's hard to summate oneself in being
able to;
  thank god philosophers didn't complicate simple words
with remnants of Latin like psychologists did,
there's the prior (a priori) and there's the after (a posteriori),
or the two within a-: without a prior (to) / priority -
                  or without an after / an imitable vogue / trend /
    zeitgeist.
          can you write something like someone disclosing the fudge
of what's technically an arithmetic summary?          
no intelligence is being undermined here,
         what's being undermined is what's critically an optical
   java transitory period.                                                    

(int­erlude no. 2)

the laziest philosophers always write about the word
philosophy without actually philosophising,
you can say as much when saying: i'm thinking about thought.
of all the professions, philosophers don't know theirs...
it's true, if you do it, you do it not-knowing / unconsciously.
modernity does in fact overprescribe the word genius
because it doesn't give practitioners of philosophy any
credit in the slightest of actually being recipients of
life... every time a thought spawns from nothing
the limitation of expressing it is: you don't exist;
soon enough you hang up having any competence in language
and say to people you thought you knew: adios amigos,
good luck: then you wonder why they're so
prematurely depressed, and then you forget about them
and think of a million Chinese carpenters:
simply because it's less depressingly so.
     do you ever write encapsulating a rhombus on a page
with your literary / wanking hand? i know i do,
write in a notebook askew - or that's what's called the
future of absurdity: i'm thinking about thought -
some later claim morality, and some later claim god -
        that should sound more simply as: ought i?
    but it doesn't... hey, here's to self-projecting ****** -
it's not even that good people invented god,
  it's that evil people did...
                  which is always a bit ****** having that
microchip in my abstract mind (the brain) i sometimes
try to get rid off while acting as an atheist for pop super!
       does that sound highly idealistic?
it probably does... have i an influential counter to it?
n'ah. thinking about thought without the either or of
ought leaves me asking outside the box / transcendental
questions about what self is ingested by that
Pontius Pilate... talk of the "true" self and talk of
the "false" self: who the **** is the narrator then?
are we all bleaching our handshakes these days to
give a handshake?!
    some men would claim to be the husbands of that
insatiable "woman" that's Sophia,
         who, after all, is better equipped to satiate 3
men, than a man to satiated 3 women:
the trinity of ****, vaginal: oral - funny that,
how perfectly that plays against all those years of
practising to a demand of the churches': kneel!
i'll just watch you **** him off while Mary Magdalene
spread the schematic that resulted in the Islamic
******* analing the "respected".

(interlude no. 3)

just can't be bothered mate...
  never did so much charity work pour into
      herr Herrman's charity chest of
the never thought of set of poems.


- and a day later, just a blank,
what a formidable evening,
why do i queue for even a trombone, violin,
       a viola, trumpet or a sax to add to my voice?
but in musicological terms: that's exactly what i'm doing.
it's hard to not see this as a cure:
with 16,713 views matta's echo babylon is
truly the antithesis of Prokofiev, or any other,
as might call it: windy character.
        classical music was bound to tornados and
zephyrs - modern music is the epitome of rhythmic
sampling, drum eroded violins,
           and other things happened, too.
rhombus within the framework of the hand-written prior,
on tiny scraps of rectangular paper,
because it's easier to write like that: slanting
and therefore for the imagery of cascading -
and as the pronoun revolution dies down,
                    and the voices go unheard,
   people will start to think about thought
and later thought per se for transcendental purposes...
     because choice will be ejected from
having competent access to it: namely?
   i can't see those **** the ***** protests seriously
if people can't take to shooting guns,
          i mean real rebellion... obviously i'm egging
on the situation and spraying gasoline on it
(obviously), but if the French give you the statue of
liberty as a present, you get to look at the appendix,
and start thinking: where are the guns, so
it looks like a genuine protest? i thought the idea of
being able to own guns (by the people), was to suggest
that if the government was electorally undesired,
people could start shooting... the tongue isn't
a
Cunning Linguist Nov 2015
To the Fed
& The inevitable death
of Amerika

And to the conglomerates
for which we spend
One World
Strayed from God

Run by criminals
With bloodthirsty injustice
For All
Cunning Linguist Mar 2015
Humanity is tainted and now leaking everywhere
In a world where people jump out
airplanes after stacks of money
To a din of sirens blaring,
War drums thrumming
Funny you'll do nothing;
It's a racket designed to create the distraction

To the hidden monsters flying in the night sky
Ever secure, beneath a crux of watchful eyes
Masters of disguise bend your will to their lies
Subconsciously shapeshifting acquiescence in the absence of light

They operate in obscurity
Conglomerates of impunity
Urgency manifests necessity
With a propensity for depravity
Slaves lulled to a fake sense of security with false promise of luxury
Compulsively regurgitating propaganda in delusory quandary
Happy little sheep march willingly to the teeth of the Serpent machine

Ominous omniscience mixes with
Sensations of bodilessness
In a state of godlessness
Whenever my conscious surfaces in this clandestine system
I sell my soul to purchase debt and let repercussions fall upon my children
A paradigm; with no ethics the center is an idol,
and the world had forever idolized the god money, Belial

Imagine
A carnival pageant, with parades of tyrants tirading
and masquerading on the world's stage as lavish savages

With overwhelming power in hand,
I'll bring an end to it all
If you gaze for long into the abyss
It will stare back into your soul

Pay homage to barrages of sacred false knowledge/unacknowledged
It lodges to your consciousness as it takes you hostage
You think you're open-minded but suffer from mental spillage
Then brain begins hemorrhaging like a glitch in the matrix

Global massacre is imminent
Our abandonment's no accident
Caricatures of government act as the Devil's advocates

Insane It's us against them
Zionist Superfriends deciding trends
designing and framing an outline of the endgame just for sh¡ts-n-gigs
Hands reach through the tapestry pulling you in and unrelenting,
Secretly from behind the scenes

Portraits of dishonesty
Stripping you of all life and liberty
Symphonies of screams
systematize in perfect symmetry
Enslaving and slaying humankind -
They've exacted brainwashing
to the science of chemistry
And mold your mind
with the subtlest alchemy

Media blackout;
Credits tapped out
Better act now
before the stock markets
collapse down

What's your plan when **** hits the fan,
will you follow The Man or fail condemned?
Now bow at the feet of the ministry of tyranny,
Head lowered in defeat *preparing for the guillotine
Hey, I'm not a lumberjack, or a fur trader there's only one pelt I'm interested in....
I don't live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled Global warming has taken all the snow away....
and I don't know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada, i do know Partel, Kareem, Xi Chein and Steve
and they're really really nice.

I have a Prime Minister who is *******, not a president.
I speak English and a little French, not American though we like to mock southern accents...
And I pronounce it 'aboot, not about...

I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack along with with motorhead and misfits patches...
I believe in peace keeping, not policing unless you count the G20...
diversity, not assimilation, unless it's the borg...
and that the ****** is a truly proud and noble animal and a bald one is truely a wonder to behold...
A toque is a hat that douchbags wear all year round, a chesterfield is a couch that my dunken friends sleep on,
and it is pronounced 'zed' not 'zee', 'zed' unless its Zebra because Zedbra sounds stupid!!!

Canada is the second largest landmass that can be pilfered by multinational conglomerates!
The first nation of hockey!
and the best part of North America... except vegas!

My name is Josh!!
And I am Canadian!!!
EH?
We adore the hour
Of enduring madness
We are crude and cruel
Like tigers in the morning
We are food for the gods
Who stayed too long
And strayed too far
From their solitary pantheons
We are the shadows of Psyche
Tirelessly shorn from our bodies
We are retired armies
These conglomerates of hatred
Fed up with feminine values
We are salivating angst
We are manic depressive virgins
Coercion is comical
This is evil incarnate
Sardonic solitude shrouds You
In it's vision-less vicissitudes
We are used to being used
And fed ignorance like food
We are bored and longing
For some muscles to flex
So we could attest to our problems
I contest your victory
And seek meaning in expression
Anger is reflexive yet still we beg to differ
Our questions rejected
By an authority we entrusted
To naively negate our egos
We collect puzzles and never solve them
We form alliances with psychedelic buffalo
While meditating butterflies chart
Their ancient transmigration patterns
We are pinnacles of virtue in vitriolic prisons
We administer to the needs of the ordinary soldier
We are shouldering too much responsibility
For if you were entrusted with love
Then please don't abuse it
We are bundles of wood
Woven together like fragile tapestries
We are strategies unused
We are moody lovers confused by each other’s apathy
Our lack of touch erupts into violent volcanoes
Spewing fumes in our bedrooms
We are ****** handed
Balancing on our fingertips
While plummeting a thousand feet
To the bottom of endless seas
We are cheap like sheet-rock and shelves
Upended in an earthquake
We are all that we tell each other
We are purely made from stories
Defending our allegorical right to exist
We are so ******* boring
That our own made-up gods
Can do nothing but laugh
At the infinite ignorance of our species
We are a genus of ingenious desperation
Who gave measurement such an important trophy
That we are beyond permanently broken
And can now fatefully begin authentically working
On fixing our sights, minds, hearts
Hands and bodies upon uniting
With our deepest spiritual longing
I gave up stroking my ego a long time before I met you
What’s next will you expect me to beg for your indulgence
We are making amends for the ways
We dissected our reality
It's a tragedy that the objectification of objects
Leads to a such a Complex Elegance:
These isolated sediments are perplexed at our own self-vehemence

What a way to begin
The end of our undoing
Begs for our compassion
We are not allowed to forget
So we go to sleep
And whenever we awake
You immediately take
Our breath away
To protect against
The faintest chance
Or hint of our remembering
Isaac Grimm Apr 2013
Oh don’t you wish you were free
Don’t you just wish you were free?
You’d be a fool to give it all up
Just for peace, happiness, and security.

Poor soul, your state oppressing so many
Maybe some day they’ll see
That mass corporate conglomerates are people too
Just like you and me

All that nonsense, propaganda
About social justice, bonds, and solidarity
Beware, that’s just the sugar coated ghost of Stalin
Mao, ******, Beezlebub, and Mussolini

Oh boy don’t you just wish
Don’t you wish you were more like me?
At liberty to willfully discriminate
On your own private property.

To just exercise your personhood
By buying clothes and watching TV
What’s the matter man, why don’t you see,
Why you so anti-individuality?
Yip Wayne Jul 2018
I stared out into the slums of a ruined society
Where the rich and the poor drew great disparity

I walked the streets that divided the city
On my left, the rich and to my right, those in poverty

The further I walk more sleeping eyes loomed upon me
A great unease befell with each shifting steps

The privileged stared down from their thrones
While the poor watched from below in envy

Politicians and conglomerates drew blood from the city's vein
While its citizens struggle to live through its pain

The rebels prowled the streets for their voices to be heard
Their cries silenced by temptations of ***** money

It reminded me of scenes from dystopian movies
Only this time I was living in its reality
My first take on poems about social issues. Please do leave a comment below to help me improve
Colin E Havard Mar 2014
Manufactured individualism
Quickly assimilated into societies and cultures
Conditioned to salivate uncontrollably
Whenever marketeers ring their bells;
And the conglomerates ring their hands,
Anticipating chaching, kachinging cash registers
And the ecstasy of zinged credit,
As their manipulations percolate
Through the media-saturated masses, moping
Susceptible to provocation of whims
Due to implanted inadequacies.
The child, youth - by extension, parent;
The socially inept, unconforming conformists,
All fall under the svengali-spjaller's dulcet nagging -  
To Buy! Buy! See you next Tuesday, Suckers!
20/4/2010
The Missing Link - Gaia's Boy Toy
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Presenting spin in HD hues,
bankrolled by conglomerates,
the vapid visual dominates
The Lip-Glossed ***** Network News.

Eschewing all the old taboos:
a mouthpiece for the metro-queer.
The Antichrist will soon appear
on lip-glossed ***** network news.

Regardless of what next ensues
they cover every breaking story
(better when it’s really gory).
Attacks and tragedies amuse
They never miss their prime-time cues,
those pert disinformation crews:
the lip-glossed ***** network news.

Wherever a teapot tempest brews
they’re on the feed – it’s Live at 10;
they edit out the Truth and then
homogenize conflicting views.
Sedated viewers now can choose
what semi-informed tele-snooze
they wish to see or heed or use.

Water – water everywhere…
a thousand channels on the air
but precious little left to lose.
It’s fair and balanced – on the brink
between PC and global-think.
It’s news for nimrods: PRAVDA-lite
the babel of descending night
now veils the flat-screen universe
MSNBC gets worse
unable to reverse the curse
of lip-glossed ***** network news.

A bare and phalanxed fascist fox!
Liberals thus depict their foe;
(she’s barely right of center, though…
yet still they’re having hissy fits
while staring at her cleavage.) It’s
enough to make them blow their fuse –
forget diversity of views !
The offer no one can refuse
is lip-glossed ***** network news.
http://tinyurl.com/p2zmtju

Tommy May 2014
you say you stand for democracy,
but do you really know the meaning of the word?
you tell me he was a dictator, yes there were 18 elections, but all of them were rigged, he was corrupt,
but  tell me,
is not this system worse?
where a party can only stand if it has the money to launch a campaign, where votes are bought by those with the wealth, only looking to protect their own interests?

you have chosen to directly ignore all of the evidence placed before you
that tell you you're wrong;
he could not have had an agenda when he described the democracy you hate so much as "the most perfect democracy he's ever seen",
you've ignored every piece of legislation he passed, all to give rise to greater democracy to the real people of the country
and you tell me there's political repression when there were 80% turnouts and over 30 other parties in each of those elections.

you are so blinkered by those walls around your mind
you don't want to accept that he could have done it better than you
because you know that once you acknowledge that,
once the world acknowledges that
all you built for you
and that other 1%
will be taken from you,
as it should have been long ago.

i don't know how it's going to happen,
not now, not in this lifetime,
but in lifetimes to come,
people will be taught that the meaning of the word
democracy
lies in demos, the people
and that those big conglomerates,
no matter how much money they have,
are not the demos.
that there is more to life than your capital accumulation;
their health, their education; their basic human rights
are, and always will be, more important than how many zeroes
are written in your will,
and that no matter how much they drill it into you,
you are beautiful, you are unique, you are important
so stand tall  and proud, hands on heart
because there is more to life than the money you make.

how this will be taught, i do not know,
but as a starter, maybe we could try teaching the cats themselves
that there is more they can do for the world
than sit on thrones of gold,
and there is more to life
than how many carats they have,
and i think a brilliant way to teach this
would be to **** all of their friends and family
until they realise that money isn't all that important,
and however malicious an act that would be,
i could rest safe in the knowledge that my death toll
would not be a fraction of theirs.
(i'm just angry i promise i will never **** another human being! :P)
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
people should really stop ridiculing this medium of communication, and abusing it to serve out market square profanities against people while trying to sell kilograms of apples and shrimps... don't people realise this is a resurrection of the wild west? there are no laws here, there are no publicist authorities telling us: profit above niche interests... you really want a world where only something akin to the Da Vinci Code comes to your eyes' mesmerisation unglued from that sloppy version of sleep: in the s.e.m. when given the epileptics' digest by the television producers? this is play-dough! we have the ultimate authority - the software within software... all these software brands are also slaves to the hardware companies... please don't let them undermine the content within the content, because that recycles itself back toward the context within the context: i'm only using a computer, not a ****** kettle to make tea.

the argument bypassed all hierarchies of power,
                and it was done in the realm of the shadow people,
    long was the established
authority of man, in that democratic  babble -
until someone resorted to anarchistic measures
and said: well - allpoetry.com is a ******'s pleasure
garden of Pavlov, wattpad.com doesn't allow
                                                           ­                            ctrl c / p,
                 and elsewhere a truest
democratic expectation was
written out, against all established
lumberjacks of print,
   there, it was written,
lay the gambit - two cruise ships set off:
   become rich or die trying,
or...
               speak the truth against
a billion or two people and die not wanting
         a silver-spoon up your ***...
but i still can't believe that *incubus

released their seminal morning view
album in 2001; ****! i was 15 then,
an album of my youth...
                        such that music ages
like wine... apart from classical / literati
music kindred of Bach -
               the 20th century phenomenon
music as enjoyable as alcohol,
        no stiff-necktie princes readied for
louse agitation sitting in an opera theatre
for too long: grit and grime:
the down-to-earth passe that was actually
an impasse in terms of: can't ignore this
outlet.
             there's freedom where you can
find it,
                  sometimes facebook.com
allowed minor computer coding,
   the stroked-out ambiguity of
the zoological enclosure of <u> ending with </u>
for something being underlined,
but it's still all software, the hierarchical priest
that's a chef, but not the hardware wired
slaughterhouse attendee or the butcher -
i still find it bewildering that journalists
treat the medium that's electronic as a form of
surrealism, unreal, psychiatric worthy investigation...
well: dope,
                     people die from interacting on this
quick-action translated into real life "t.v.",
              journalists are basically writing us off
and whatever the internet provides goes against
their famous revolution of the printing press...
they can't stomach democracy of the internet,
they prefer to peer for the autocracies of
their belittling tabloid conglomerates of a Hussein;
they can't stomach freedom,
they can't stomach free enterprise: with or without
a care to have a family, pay the extortion that children
surmount to...
                         they are like priest, in the grey suited
attire of authority that's beyond
       distinguishable...
                                    opinions spewed like
regurgitated kebabs on an Essex dance floor after too
many shots of warm *****... without even a
chance for a dialectical horizon...
                     little fears, little people.
sure, i can be the village idiot: i did the opposite
of people outside of a eugenic background of
Shakespeare or Beckett households do,
    simply outside keeping the motto, if not
merely the motivation to be blunt flints -
i.e. great-grandfather was a doctor, grandfather was
a doctor, father was a doctor, i am a doctor...
embarrassing, this "noble" form of ******...
                doctors and lawyers are alike...
     if you want to know where the neanderthals are
these days? i'll tell you, there, where i pointed
at with the inbreeding of inter-generational "improvements"
but keeping the family name attired in a certain
profession...
                                    to be honest, for all that blah blah
of Darwinism (never stance it off against theology,
                      any -ism isn't a -logy, the former
attires itself with words but simply dictates images)
               we're less bio-diverse than we think we are,
        i call it the ****** plateau, nirvana unplugged
said it better, but i find the hard case of social mobility
          being immovable in terms of
                         a Francis Shakespeare imitating his
great great great, great great grandfather
                                 or a Michael Faraday
                                 Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr., Jr. Jr.
                           securing a patent on a Dyson light-bulb...
****** happens all the ****** time,
               it's just the socially acceptable ****** that
doesn't require rammstein to write a song
         entitled Viennesse Blood
                                            (6-    -en- -ease:
         6 denoting the Welsh ***** to you and ****** to boot,
                                     and the universal *******)...
                                                      ­ was i shocked when
i heard about this story? i could have been...
                                           but then i've been reading
the mentality of the culprit that's kindred of the Marquis
de Sàde (alternatively Sadé... i.e. eh?)
                       and i figured: have you seen how local
  and uninformed the people surrounding the case are,
                  they would have hardly known that
a plebiscite was taking place...
               two carrots a beetroot and a cabbage broth
in their eyes translated the civilised world's shock...
                  but that's what's shocking about
our modern world: you can truly become a barbarian these
days by treating modern, socially progressive / civilised
          antics or behavioural patterns with an
anti-social tinge of revision: basically stating the truth:
      and truth is the newest form of brutality (oddly enough),
incubated by the phrase: brutal-honesty...
              so evidently that's counter to: civilised-deceit.
judy smith Mar 2016
Fashion is a female-fueled business. Many glossies have mastheads filled with women; there are tons of female designers; public relations, a key cog in the fashion-industry machine, is two-thirds women. Yet gender inequality is still a legitimate issue in the field — very few European design houses arehelmed by female talent, and women have only recently begun to catch up in terms of top-level executive roles at places like LVMH.

We’re still a ways off from having gender parity in the most influential roles in fashion, not to mention equal pay, and better parental leave policies. But there are some advantages to being a female designer — an innate understanding of the female body and what women truly want to wear, for starters. In honor of International Women’s Day on March 8, shopping app Spring gathered 33 of its female-led brands — including some of our favorite forward-thinking names in the biz — for a campaign called #SpringStories. The original shoot, lensed by Diego Uchitel, explores dozens of designers’ experiences in (and contributions to) the fashion industry.

As part of #SpringStories, users on the e-tailer’s app will be able to “swipe” to donate to I Am That Girl, a charity that aims to “help girls establish physical, emotional, and mental well-being and transform self-doubt into self-love by providing a safe space to have honest conversations about things that matter,” according to the organization’s site. Spring will then match all contributions to the charity.

A handful of the app’s featured designers shared with Refinery29 the ongoing challenges they face as women in the fashion industry, as well as the highlights of getting to design for other women.

Getting the necessary capital to put out collection after collection is tougher for female talents, according to Laura Cramer, cofounder of Apiece Apart. "To build a grounded business poised for growth, you either need to raise money or have deep pockets. The uphill battle for women raising money is much steeper, particularly if you look at data around VC funding, where women-led companies get less than 5%," Cramer says. "Early in our pitching days, I was pregnant and would watch eyes fall to my enlarging belly as we described our road map to success. A man will never know the feeling of people calculating your age, your marital status, and your child-bearing readiness."

And once funding has been achieved, some designers feel a lack of support between women in the industry. “I think a lot of women don't support each other in the ways they should, and it always blows my mind that support and love isn't people's default setting all of the time," says Aurora James of Brother Vellies. "There are a lot of women in this industry, and there is enough success for all of [us]."

Camaraderie is important, certainly, but it's necessary to have women installed in powerful, well-financed creative director roles at the biggest fashion conglomerates to truly work toward having equal opportunities in the industry. "There are many female designers, but not in the top tiers of fashion," says Becca McCharen of Chromat. "The brands backed by companies like LVMH and Kering are predominantly run and owned by men."

Women are especially adept at "designing for changing bodies, with curves, and incredibly diverse days," Cramer explains. Yet there's a (albeit, generalized) contrast in what drives designers' ideas, according to Tanya Taylor: "Men design for desire and women design for purpose," she says. "The biggest challenge is how you make purpose desirable."

Though there certainly are ways to make clothing that elicits desire without being overtly ****. "Becca [McCharen] from Chromat — she has an incredible understanding of the female body in all of its many incarnations and she designs for that; she basically builds scaffolding for the body," James raves. "She supports women both ideologically and literally. It's lingerie, but it's not about *** — show me a man who has done anything like that."

#SpringStories' eclectic roster also includes labels like Negative Underwear, Misha Nonoo, Marcia Patmos, Rebecca Minkoff, Outdoor Voices, and Eileen Fisher.See more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
Prossnip42 Mar 2020
Go there for your rota
There for your orders
Fill up the quotas
We'll bill for you quarters
Report to your foreman
But watch for construction
Cause if you get hurt you've damaged our property

Did you not read the Company policy?
That defines you as the Company's property
That waivers your say in autonomy
The conglomerates got you in lock and key
We put the dollar back into idolatry
If you're upset you can rent an apology
We're a family forged in bureaucracy
No I in "team" but there's "con" in economy

Were you expecting rights?
Were you hoping for fairness?
My friend you're indentured and pleasure's exempt from your tenure so venture back down to your slum
That's provided at generous prices
Your worth is determined by your sacrifices

A small term of service when down of the surface
Interment's a freebie that comes with the purchase

We work
To earn the right to work
To earn the right to give
Ourselves the right to buy
Ourselves the right to live
To earn the right to die
Anais Vionet Jun 2022
We had breakfast on the Champs-Élysées this morning at Café Joyeux. Their croquet monsieur (a breakfast sandwich) was to die for - one bite can cure a hangover. They also serve a deep, rich Yirgacheffee coffee (€15 a cup) that I think God stirs with his little pinkie finger - it’s THAT good. We took up most of the little outdoor, oval tables on the right side (there are 10 of us) and our little sorority was noisy with chatter - earning us looks.

Our European vacation culminates today. We’re flying back to Georgia in a couple of hours. June seemed to drain away like water.  

The minion my Grandmère charged with coordinating our vacation, François, breakfasted with us. He’s one of the flock of Sorbonne Université MBAs she recruits each year to infuse new energy into her conglomerates.

He briefed us on our departure and flight. His imposition of definitive order and advance planning allowed us a casual and carefree sense of travel this summer. In an ideal world, he’d coordinate my entire life.

He’s been on-call all month but joined us, off and on - like when we arrived in Doublin, at customs, to smoothly guide us through and again, similarly, in Paris.

He’s 26, very handsome and model looking. He’s perfectly tailored, with an elegant yet minimalist style. He wears dark shirts of admiral and yale blue with long black jackets and gray slacks with no tie. His hair is a hipster straight, blonde fringe.

He’s so perfect that I wouldn’t put it past my Grandmère to have placed him in front of me, like bait, to see if something with us sparked-off.

He’s Frenchly brisk and yet dryly solicitous - as if I have the power to sanction his position, which, in a way I suppose I do.

“How’s François doing?” Grandmère would ask, each time we talked.

“He’s wonderful,” I said, “I think he’s a keeper.”

“Good, good for him.” she would reply - making the comment sound almost sly.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Culminate: "to reach the end or final result.”
Bryce Jun 2018
It's political, isn't it
the ones who get the book deals
acting like actors
starry eyed
dreaming to be
the next Stephen King

******' sellout

entertainment
that's what wins
and who decides the words
a company on market street
in a big tower of steel and glass
coffee machine


people hate to be proven wrong
they hate to have their methods questioned
Geocentrism maintained until the atomic age
and even after

let go of preconceived notions
of ideology and dogmatic sheen
step away from petty partisans
perhaps then we can come together

you won't like it if it targets you
because today
our hearts are fragile
and we feel the instinctive
(instilled)
need to defend and revolt
against a system that is broken
in all the wrong ways

but tearing it down
and building back up
is always more tough
than simply,
agreeing
to disagree
and working
to find
a solution
somewhere
in between

c'mon
please wake up
don't keep eating soylent green
mean broadcasts and slanderous media
consultants that own the world beneath their words

Walt Disney (ABC): 92 billion
Comcast (NBC, MSNBC): 186.9 billion
Viacom (Paramount, CBS): 23.7 billion
21st Century Fox: 50.72 billion
Facebook (Instagram): 84.524 billion
Verizon (T-Mobile): 257.1 billion
AT&T (Sprint, Cricket): 444.1 billion
Google: 206.94 billion

These are the biggest industries in the world
manufacturing information
buying yours
selling you fabricated dreams
and hateful wishes
to turn you into time bombs
picketing angry on main street
buying pamphlets
buying lies
buying momentary good times
so that the dividends incessantly continue to fund

And you fear youtubers?
with thoughts
different than the conglomerates
and the fourth estate
in beded on the capitol building
drinking martinis
jacking themselves off on an american flag,
saying
Land of the free

silencing the opposition
quietly
behind the scenes
MKULTRA
greedy
and mean

and you'll eat it up
thinking you're kind
playing exactly the cards
they printed for you
and handing their printed money
over
with interest
siphoning the wealth of a generation
like ticks

but the solution is not to redistribute
it is to reinvigorate
the innovative
engine
and accept,
maybe,
that all states are doomed to die
eventually

but don't fear death
please
that's the first way
they get
in your skin
and through that wound
will inject you
with sin
You can hate me, call me whatever you'd like. Won't change the fact we'll look back and wonder....

why didn't we do anything sooner?
david mungoshi Mar 2016
neither your helipad nor your limos
neither your huge country mansion
nor the famed cellar of vintage wines
in your basement world of wonders
neither your wild and loud wardrobe
nor your collection of fancy silk ties
when it matters most in this world
can make any real difference for us
in our assigned bits of rugged terrain
your fabulous diamonds and rubies
and your green emeralds and pearls
are no more than mere shiny trinkets
before the warmth and camaraderie
exuded by those who still can smile
and still can laugh a deep hearty laugh
in this world of sordid corporations
shady conglomerates and mega deals
you had better be on the lookout for
smooth operators and suave conmen
with fads, facts and figures to sway you
these are the hyenas of today's world
and they will always dissemble if it pays
All hallows ever,
And I am sitting on the bed,
The bed that is a couch,
With narerly an account,
but surely still,
That Frankenstein will listen,
No morely not,
I am my own with standing,
Yet who we are is who we have repeatedly been,
Muderer's killers, who are we truly, but conglomerates of our free willing,
and lies withunderstood.
Julian May 2023
https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0

THE ABORIGINAL FRAME OF REFERENCE OF HETEROCHRONY AND SIMULTAGNOSIA DEFINES THE PARALLAX OF URANOPLASTY BY CATALFALQUES AND ARCTICIANS WHO SASHAY THEIR GENTEEL NOBILITY IN THE FLUX OF ELLIPSOID DIMENSIONAL INTERFACES FOR GREENWICH MEAN TIME THAT IS OPERATIVE IN THE CONATION OF MATHESIS TO PLUCKY THORNY IMBROGLIOS OF TELEOLOGY OF LAND RUN SPECTRAL HOBGOBLIN BUGABOOS OF AN INDUSTRIAL WASTELAND GARNERING A QUERENCIA OF GRANNARY JOBBERNOWL JOCKOS OF  EMOLUMENT IN THE FESTIVITY OF THE MARCH OF MASONS ALL TOWARDS SINECURE OF SYNCLASTIC CLIFF DIVERS WHO SPELUNK IN FIRE EXTINGUISHER PLIGHT OF STREAMLINED COSMONAUTS BOLTROPES TO AN ABECEDARIAN TRILOGY OF CAMISOLES FOR CAMPANILE CAMARADERIE JOUSTING THE FLAVORS OF SAINT TROPEZ FOR ADMIRAL SENTINELS OF FAMIGERATION. THEN BECAUSE OF THIS THE SWASHBUCKLING CONNOSIEURS OF THE GUARDED JALOUSIES OF JEALOUSY CONGEALING REQUIEMS FOR DESOLATE DISSIPATION IN WITWANTON FUROR PRIMIGENIAL IN THE FORMATIVE THROES OF RAGTAGGER RETINUES OF VESTIGE AND THE PLUMBISM OF SOCKDOLAGER HIERARCHIES OF SAPROSTOMY BY RUDENTURE AND GALVANIZATION OF FUNERAL PYRE PONDSCUM RELIEFS ON CANVASS FOR THE CALVOUS PROSELYTISM WHEMMLING SUBVERSION AND STOMACHERS OF TESTUDO MANIFEST THE TESTIMONY OF THE BRONZE IMAGOS IMPRIMATURS OF THE SLOGMARCH OF PANTAGRUELIAN SCIAMACHIES FOR TRIBULOID CELLULOID ENGRAVED WITH THE GREATEST SPECIFICITY AGAINST THE MEDIA CONGLOMERATE COCARDENS SLANGWHANGING THEIR ALBATROSS STROKES OF THROMBOSIS AGAINST NUCLEOTIDES AGAINST THEIR PILGRIMMAGE MIGHT THEY FIND THE FOSSOR AT THE GRAVESTONE AN IMPERILED ONEIRODYNIA BECAUSE OF BERTHE CIRCLE BETHLEHEMS SQUARSONS ENVY AND SQUARE RECTITUDE AGAINST AS THE FORMIDABLE SPATHODEA IN THE INTERREGNUM OF KALIMKARI THAT THE TOKUGAWA ASPECTS OF MACH 3 TRIPWIRES SLINGSHOT INTO ORBIT AROUND MOONSHOT DIRIGISME OPERATIVE BY THE HEFT OF ENTELECHY IN SEFIROTH MIGHT THE DEMISE OF CATERCORNERED VULPECULAR SPITE SQUANDERING EVERY LIMESTONE LIMELIGHT OF SLAVISH INDELIBLE AVARICE GILDED BY THE SOLOMON EMPIRE STRIKING BACK AGAINST CATARRHINE HEBEPHRENIA SPATTEES OF INDIGENCE. THESE SPAR AGAINST WITH FOIBLED REMNANTS OF THE DYING GUARD OF VAURIENS IN VARIMAX STOCHASTICS OF THE DIVISION OF THE INDIVISIBLE INTO THE CATASTROPHISM OF ABAXIAL FOMENT SPUMID WITH LIVID AND LURID ONEIRODYNIA FILIBUSTERING WITH “TEACHERS” ENORMITY AGAINST THE TITANISM OF THOSE LATCHKEY YEGGS OF HENPECKED OWLERIES OF BOHEMIAN REPUTE BUT NEON ALPENGLOW IN THE CREMATION OF THE CAREWORN REPUBLIC HOARY WITH WIZENED ABSOLUTION IN APANAGE THAT GRILLAGE FOMENTS AGAINST THE GREAVES OF THE CHANDLER AND THE CARRACKS OF IMMENSE PANTOGRAPHS DERIVING FROM FUTURE TENSE A PRESENT SURREALISM OF DAYDREAMS OF EIRENICON THAT ARE PLASHY WITH THE PLAFONDS OF MIRRORED VERSAILLES REVANCHED TWICE AND BET ON THREE TIMES TO SALVAGE A WORLD BEYOND BENTHIC DEPTHS OF GILD ABOVE ARTHURIAN PEDIGREE IN THE SACK OF THE JARVEY OF EXASPERATED EMPIRES SWILLING WITH TITRATION AMONG MODERN CULPRITS FOR VAMPIRIC FEATS THE WELTER OF LAMBENT LIGHT TORCHIERS EMIT IN TIMELESS PRISTINE ELEGANCE OF HERCULEAN MIRACLES SLURRY SWANSONGS OF DOVETAILED INFAMY BECAUSE OF SERROWS OF OPPORTUNISM WORN FRAYED WITH REVOLUTE MARGINALIZATION OF PROSTITUTES OF TAXIDERMY AND TRAPEZES OF SCHOENABATIC SPORTIVE GAMBOLING NICCOLIC NIDAMENTAL BANDOBASTS OF RESIGNATION. THIS PANTHEON SECRETS BELONG IN BARRULETS BEYOND THE PRIVY EYES OF VANGERMYTES SIMULTANEOUS IN CHANTED LITURGIES OF GHOST DANCE CELEBRATIONS OF WOVEN EMISSARIES OF THE DEEPEST CHARNEL AND CATACOMB OF PHILOSOPHICAL ALTRUISM BROCKFACED WITH THE MYTHOS OF A THOUSAND TINY LIES BECOMING THE SUBURBAN MUSE OF MERITOCRACY MIXED WITH SUBVERSIVE PLEVISABLE CRYPTADIA THAT SPAWN THE HYLICISM OF THE HYLOZOIC CRETACEOUS SPARK PLUG INGENUITY OF FATHOMED TRAIPSES OF DESTINED APLOMB WELTERWEIGHTS BRAG ABOUT IN THEIR GROOMED ZENKIDU BENT IN KOWTOW TO TAJ MAHAL PEDIGREE BECAUSE OF EPHORIZED ZEKS OF XENON AND OTHER MERCURIAL SPRITES WELLSPRINGS ABSOLVE WITH ILASTICAL REPARTEE AS THE HYPE OF EVERYTHING IS THE ENMITY OF ANY QUALIA IMMISERATED IN ITS OWN SCURFY SCOWL OF JEALOUSY AT HOW POORLY THE GOOD SHEPHERD WHO PROVIDES LIFE IN ABUNDANCE IS BETRAYED BY THE CORDWAINERS OF A COMPANY HE VOUCHSAFED AS A DEMASSIFIED SECURITIZATION OF BIFFCO PLANS TO COLONIZE THE  REPARTEES OF MACROPICIDE IN WEALTH SUCH THAT THE STEVEDORE MEETS INCLEMENT CURGLAFF AND THE JASPERATED JESUITICAL RUDENTURE OF MEDIA CONGLOMERATES RUNS AMOK BECAUSE OF TRITE NECESSITARIAN BELLWETHER WELTERS THAT DESCRY THE “SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS” ZEITGEIST OF NARRISCHEIT IN FOOLHARDY KUNDLESROMAN. THE FINIFUGAL BINTURONGS OF SHANTUNG AND CHIFFON FROM RUMCHUNDER CAN BE THE PLEVISABLE CURTAIN OF WUNDERKINDS ALONE IN GINGLYMUS AROUND DEMASSIFIED PUBLICITY THAT GARNERS ANY GARISH ADVANTAGE TO THE POULTRY OF GAVELKIND BECAUSE OF THE SOPITERS OF WEALTH OVER THE MERIT OF SELECTION INTO THE FELLOWCRAFT OF BOLIDES ONLY KNOWN TO A FEW PARTICIPANTS OF RESONANCE IN IONIZATION AND DECRIED SCOUNDRELS OF AUSTRAL WANHOPE AND WANION OF WAPENTAKE BY THE CACOETHES OF THE ESCULENT EBRIOUS PERIBLEBSIS TO REVOKE THE STANCHIONS OF THEIR INTEGRITY TO PRESERVED STATURE EMBEDDED IN BARKENTINE ARISTOCRATIC ESTATES SUCH THAT THE BRIQUET STEALS THE ALMANAC BEFORE THE TITAN PRIMIPARA PROMACHOS CHAMPION OF ALL BRETEUIL THUNDERING APPLAUSE OF CANARDS BECOMING THE ROERICH ROORBACKS OF DIGNIFIED ACHIEVEMENTS IN THE ELOCUTION OF MEN PROSELYTIZED BY GALLANT GAPS AND VOLUMES OF ARMADA FILIBUSTERED BY STOKEHOLD SPODOMANCY IN SPODIUM BECAUSE OF CLADOGENESIS IN SUPREME MYTHS BELONGING TO NEOPHRONS THAT SCAVENGE THE PRECIPICE OF RAIDED TOMBS AND RUPESTRIAN DISCOVERIES FROM THE ANCIENTS TO THE COGNITIVE DELINQUENCY OF ENTHEATE ENCEPHALIZATION QUOTIENT DEMARCATIONS OF PATAPHYSICS DELIMITING THE PULCHRITUDE OF THE WELKIN AND WELLAWAY OF TITANS SUNKEN BENEATH THE PENDULUM OF GRANITE AND THE SANDSTONE OF NAXOS LAVEERING THE LAVADERO OF ANCIENT ODYSSEY FALTERING ON MISPLACED HISTORICITY MIGHT THE BARDS ASSUME THE COVERAGE OF ALL REGARDANT AFFAIRS OF FLAGRANT CHRISTIAN ROODS AND MISERICORDS LEADING TO A QUACKSALVER MONETIZATION OF LABROSE LABIOMANCY AMONG THE DEFEANED EARS OF BOSTON UNIVERSITY IN THE COVERT CHANNELS OF HALIFAX EXPLOSIONS LEADING TO APOGEES IN TRIAGE AND WHITTAWERS OF WILLOWISH DECADENCE DROOPING WITH LOURS AND LEARY SUBVERSION OF THE LEEWARD JAWS OF GREEN-EYED-LADY. THE FAVORS BETRAYED BY THE GAMESMANSHIP OF POLO PLAYERS RATHER THAN THE PANCRATIC ACCORD OF MARSHALED PEACE OUT OF THE HOUNDSTOOTH DONTOLESQUE FUMIDUCTS FUNNELING GRAVAMENS OF GRANNARY GRAVEYARDS THE PEDIGREE OF OLD MALABATHRUM IN THE ETERNAL APOLAUSTIC PURSUIT OF THE UMBRILS OF TRITE HACKNEYED IMITATION OF ONE HACKER WAY AND ITS DEVELOPMENTAL STAGGER FROM SEANCE TO MAUSOLEUM BECAUSE OF CREAKY CRUMBLING 226 BC CATACLYSM RAIDED BY ICONOCLASTS OF CRUSADING WARS TO HIDE THE VOGELHERD BURROWING SPEILBERGS THAT DIRECT WALDOLF-ASTORIA GRAVEROBBERS WHO ITCH AND YEUK FOR YARAKS OF YESTERTEMPEST TO BECOME A GULLYWASHER VARDLE IN OMBROPHILOUS CONFUSION BENIGHTED BY TRAGICOMIC VALIDATION OF CONFLAGRATION OF SHANGHAIED MENSURATIONS OF VASTATIONS AGAINST THE HEGEMONY OF RHEOTAXIS THAT MIGHT SPUR THE CABOTAGE OF THE CALCARIFEROUS COBALT OF PICTURESQUE LABILE AMADEUS VIOLINISTS SPORTIVE IN EVERY REGARD OF PATAPHYSICS LEARNED BY THE ALGORITHMS EMBEDDED IN GENERATIVE PRE-TRAINED TRANSFORMERS OF CONSCIENCE AND STATOLITHS OF THE ARABIC NOBILITY OF SHRINES SHROUDED ON OLYMPUS BEAMING WITH AGED LIGHT IN THE ALPENGLOW OF THE MEMORIAL OF THE PLASTERED PAINT PLASHY WITH PLAFONDS OF PLENARY RECONNAISSANCE OF RENAISSANCE ACUMINATION OF THE ATRABILIARY ORIGINS OF THE PLIGHT OF THE PLAGUED IN THE KNIGHTED ORDERS OF MALTA SALVAGING ELBA AND THE ALCATRAZ OF SENESCENCE. BUT BECAUSE OF EVASIVE TRUTINATIONS OF THE TUBIFACIENCE OF EAGER LEAPING TRUTHS OF NEW MADRID CLADOGENESIS IN COGITATED REALMS OF APOTHEGM LEADEN WITH PHEROMONES OF THE BRAGGING RIGHTS PREROGATIVES OF SLAPSTICK CAPREOLATE MINATORY FIFTH COLUMNISTS AND GUARDIANS OF ST. JOHN THAT MAYBE THE FLAGRANT STENCH OF RIGORS OF RIGMAROLE AND THE CORTEGES OF THE DEEPEST PLUMB IN THE 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA TRAVESTY OF SANTAS MIRACULOUS NORAD PARADE FROM BUNKER HILL TO PROVIDENCE AND THE TEMBLORS OF CHARLESTON SPEAK TO THE EL PASO POWER PLANT IN ITS GRAVID GABBLE OF GAVELKIND FOR ISONOMY PROTECTED BY THE TREASURY OF SLOW-WAVE DISTORTIONS OF THE GEOCARPY OF GEITONOGAMY BECAUSE OF HARRIED TERRIES OF TESTUDO GUARDING THE THRONE AT THE EDGE OF GRACE BEYOND THE GOLDEN BRANCHES OF ZION AND THE DEPTHS WE FATHOM THE STRATHSPEY OF ENNOBLED GENTEEL BRISURES AT THE PARAPET. THE ARENAIDAN SECRETS AND ABSTERGED CASUALTIES OF THE WORST AMENDE OF TAMMANY JUSTICE AND THE BYWORDS OF HIS CANEZOU CANZONE PRIVILEGED UPON THE EARS OF ARISTOCRACY LIKE THE WILTED QUILT OF MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. CEREMONIALLY EXITING STAGE RIGHT THE PRECIPICE HE ENTERED BY THE ZEPHYRS OF CEFALONIA BARNSTORMING APACE OF CALIPACES OF NESSBERY NESTITHERAPIES AGAINST THE GRUFF GUIGNOL OF RHYPAROGRAPHY MIGHT THE AWAKENED ROOSTER HENPECK THE FLOCK OF GRASSY AVARICE LAUNCHED INTO ORBIT BY THE PIONEERS OF CEPHALIGATION TO THE PROMONTORY AT THE EDGE OF TOMORROW BUT THE FORTNIGHT OF YESTERDAY’S DIDACTIC LITURGY IN THE CATECHESIS OF CHRIST AND THE BESTOWED PROPHECIES OF PATRIARCHS OF MUHAMMAD THAT THE WORLD WE CARVE ETCHED IN TABLATURE FOR IMPRIMATUR BECAUSE OF RIVALRIES OF SYCOMANCY MIGHT WE ALL CONCORD UPON THE CONCOURSE OF THE LUNACY OF EQUIDISTANT PERJURY AND CORRUPTION TO THE THRONE OF GRACE AND THE OVAL THAT ENCIRCLES SO RAPID A DEGENERATION AND SO WIDE A CANVASS OF  ARTIFICE ABOVE THE FULMINATION OF THE CAULKED VAULTS OF WELKIN FOR WELLAWAY EUPHORIANTS FROGMARCHED BY JALEOS OF HANDSPIKE. THIS IS FOR BLASPHEMED DEGREES OF DECREE OF THE SACRED FIRE OF TEMPERANCE THAT THE MODESTY OF A MASON MAKES HIM THE SUN GOD OF HIS OWN MAYDAY PICARESQUE QUIXOTIC WHITE WATER THRILLS SCALING THE SCALARIFORM CORDWAINER CATALLACTICS AGAINST GRAMPUS IN TRUCIDATION RATHER THAN THE TRAULISM OF DUGONGS OF DURAMEN PREPARED TO THE DIGNITARIES OF MORONI AND THE CHRONOMANCY OF OBSCURE CAPITALIZATION FROM THE RANDOM DELLS AND VALLEYS AND THE TREASURY OF DOMINEERING MOUNTAINS CLIFFHANGING IN PERPETUAL INSOUCIANCE BUT RECALCITRANCE OF GRAVITY’S RAINBOW AGAINST THE RAINBOW PLEDGES OF THOSE THAT DEFY THE CREED OF THE PEOPLE OF THE BOOK AND THE BESTOWERS OF THE CHIMNEY OF INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION SOOT OF EVOLUTIONARY CELERITY CATALYZED IN THE SPRAWLING URBACITY OF MOFUSSIL FOSSILS LAMINATED WITHOUT A HINT OF LANCINATION SUCH THAT TOURBILLONS OF LIONIZATION OF ALL THE OLD HAUNTS AND EVERY SNICKERING HISTORICAL IRONY MIGHT MEET DECLENSION BECAUSE OF OMPHALISM BUT THE BRUNT OF ALL BRONTEUMS OF KNOWLEDGE IS NOT MERELY KNOWING A DATE OR AN EXACT TIME OR AN EXACT NAME BALLOONING INTO THE SIMULTANEITY OF EAGER LAND RUSH APPLICANTS OF FORFENDED OPPORTUNISM AGAINST THE DEPREDATED PAST REPLACED WITH A POTICHOMANIA OF PRESENT CIRCUMSTANCE DESIGNED TO ENCAGE US IN A GREENWICH MEAN TIME CONTORTION OF TITANIC LOVELORN NECKLACES SUNKEN IN ZOOLATRY BECAUSE OF AGRIZOIATRY EMBEDDED IN “EMBERS AND ENVELOPES” REGINA AND MOBILIZED PURSUITS OF THE FUGACIOUS FATIDICAL INSIGHTS OF THE PAST. THIS INDELIBLE IMPRINT IS  CARVED FROM THE IMPEDIMENTA OF IATRALIPTIC IATROMATHEMATICS STEEPLY INCLINED INTO THE FULCRUM OF DESICCATION AND THE DIET OF WORMS THAT DEPARTED TOO MANY TRUCES AND BEYOND INDULGENCE REDEEMED A TORN HUMANITY FROM FRAY AFTER REVOLUTE HOARY FRAY OF FOAM AND FLICKER IN ALPENGLOW AND RINGLEADER SEDITION ABOVE MOUNTAINS SWANKY WITH NEVER A NEBBICH PALLOR NOR A RUBEFACTION OF SQUARSONS SNEERING AT THE REGISTRY OF  THE SHOT HEARD AROUND THE WORLD CHAMFRAINS GUILTY OF HIGHER PRESTIGE IN THE GAMMONS OF GAMINE AND GAMUT THAT THE GINGLYMUS OF FRATERNITY IN ZEAL TO THE NINE SISTERS GUARDING GIBRALTARS ROYAL ARCH AND COBBLED ARENA MIGHT THE GLADIATORIAL SPECTACLE CONVENE IN EVERY CONVENTICLE BECOMING ORTHODOX BY PURIFIED RAREFACTION SUCH THAT THE ALCHEMY OF EUHEMERISM INTO CHRISTIANITY MANIFESTS AGAINST THE JANISM AND CELTIC GILD OF VANDALIZED PETTIFOGGERY WE MIGHT SEE FROM AFAR THAT THE RUINS OF RUNES ARE IN FACT THE OMPHALOS OF EVERY READYMADE SCHOLAR FRACTIOUS IN DISPUTES OF PEDIGREE. THESE KENSPECKEL DISTORTIONS THE VISAGISTS HARBOR OF BANGTAIL OSTENTATION DECEASED BEFORE CELLULOID COULD MUTATE THE CULTURAL DNA OF CONTINUATION BY A SATURNINE GLOOM RATHER THAN AN ANABIOSIS OF RECTIFIED RECTISERIAL SUBSTRATOSE REFORMATORIES SKILLED IN STANDPIPES FOR STANNARIES BECAUSE OF STANJANT DESPITE JANSKY FOR JANIZARIES TO LEARN THE CRAFTS OF KRAFT AND BECOME THE AGENCY OF THE OPERATIVE DURESS OF DURAMEN FOR ACHARNE IN A RENEWED CENTURY OF GLOWERING BYWORDS OF NESSBERRIES OF NESTITHERAPY AND THE BIOLUMINESCENCE OF INTREPID NICCOLIC SWANK IN NIDAMENTAL DEFIANCE OF NIDOR BECAUSE OF A SIMULTANEOUS REJECTION OF NIDIFUGOUS MYTHOLOGY AND THE NEPIONIC ENSLAVEMENT OF DUALISM AND POLARITY THAT IS THE GRAVID IMPERTINENCE OF SOPHOMORIC ****** YEDDA AND YASHIKIS THAT DESIRE THE CULMINATION OF ALL BRAZEN MERCHANDISE BEYOND DERAILMENT BECAUSE OF RAILLERY AND THEREBY CENTURIONS OF THE TRUE GARBOLOGY THAT BECOMES THE MAINSAIL AND MAINSTAY OF CENTURIES OF SQUALLS ON HIGH SEAS OF COCARDEN BECAUSE OF SANDSTONE AND SANDMAN WHO WORK TOGETHER TO DEFEAT THE INCUBUS SUCH THAT ALL A MAN CAN DO IS CARVE HIS OWN STATUETTE AMONG THE PANTHEON OF THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS FOR THE BROADEST OF BARMCLOTH OBJECTIONS TO JASPERATED JARVEYS OF BARTON IN PANMIXIA REGARDED BY SERRATED SECODONT SELACHOSTOMOUS REGALIA AS A MIGRANT SPECIES OF NOMADIC INSTINCT HARBORED BY THOSE WHO ONCE FATHOMED EVERYTHING. THE SERENDIPITY OF PRE-ELECTRIC OMPHALISM BUT NOW SYNERGIZE WITH SUCH CELERITY THAT MOONWALKER CARAPACE OF TESTUDO AND TREATISE BECOME DEMASSIFIED SO RAPIDLY A SPEEDY BRANNIGAN BECOMES A SPOILSPORT TO A MARAUDED WHIGGARCHY THAT DEMARCHES ALONG SERPENTINE ROUTES TO SALVATION BEYOND THE UMBRILS OF APOSTILS OF THE AGE BEFORE THE COMPLETION OF TIMES AND THE SEQUESTRATION OF SESQUIPEDALIAN HOLOBENTHIC IMMERGENCE BEAMING BEATIFICATION UPON THE AGGIORNAMENTO OF REVIVAL AND THE CALVER OF BOLAR BONCES AGAINST BONTBOKS FOR SPRINGALDS THAT BECOME WINTERBOURNE SO DEFIANTLY AGAINST THE LARGESSE OF TIME THAT THE STAGGERING ELITISM OF THE BRIQUET BECOMES A BYWORD FOR THE PARAPET OF PARAKEET BRISURES OF PERISTERONIC OBSERVATION OF STELLAR LUMINOSITY SUCH THAT THE PARASELENE IS SUDDENLY FLOGGED BY THE REVERENCE OF REVERENDS BECAUSE OF THE REVELATIONS OF PATMOS BEYOND THE MISLED SEPARATISM OF FLAKY NEVES OF NEVOSITY FREQUENT IN THE RECURRENCE OF LEGEND AND LORE BECAUSE PROMINENCE AND PREEMINENCE ARE ALWAYS TARGETED FOR POWELLISATION AFTER POTICHOMANIA SUCH THAT THE BARKENTINES HARVEST EVERY OOMANCY AND THE NOILS OF TIME FINESSE EVERY CRANNY AND NOOK OF THE BOLTROPES OF MODERNITY SUCH THAT THE CALCULUS OF BARYEICOIA MEETING STIFF SHARP GRAVITY OF SLENDERIZED BLADES OF SKELETONIZED FIGMENTS OF HOBGOBLIN AND SQUALOR BECOME REPARTEES FESTOONING LUKEWARM NATIVISM INTO A DARRAIGNED ACCORDION. THE WIDOWED MULIEBRITY OF AN UNEVEN HOUNDSTOOTH HYPOCRISY OF HIPPOCRATES IS AN OATH OF FIDELITY AND FEALTY TO THE LORD OF KINSHIP RATHER THAN THE TRAMONTANE RISCTENDER OF RHADAMANTHINE SUBVERSIVE ACTIVITIES OF A PRIVILEGED AND VOCAL MINORITY OF FULMINATION IN FAVORED REGARD AND FLASHBANG BANGTAIL OSTENTATION OF GUARDED GLEBES OF SALVATION AND SOTERIOLOGY THAT ARRIVES AT PORBEAGLE RETINACULUM REFRACTED THROUGH THE SEFIROTH OF HAMARCHY THAT SQUIREBELLS OF DIPLOMATIC RESURGENCE OF AUTOSOTERISM MET WITH REALISTIC PRAGMATIC SOLIPSISM IN MEANDERED HALLS OF VACANT CAVERNS THICK IN THE EVES OF CHIONABLEPSIA PRIMARILY BECAUSE OF THE STEEP CHIMINAGE LEADING TO RENEWABLES IN DELIVERANCE FOR AUTOMATONS OF THE FACTUAL FRICTION OF TAUT KNAVERY KEELHAULED BY THE JAILAGE OF PETEDORES AND STEVEDORES WIDOWED BY THE INDUSTRY OF PAPAVEROUS COQUELICOT SWERVES AGAINST THE “ANTI-GRAVITY LOVE” SONGS THAT ARE SUSPENDED IN THE “EMBERS AND ENVELOPES” ENCLAVE OF THE OLD GUARD OF SPAVINEDS THAT SIFFLEURS OF SUSSULTATORY REVELATION PARADE IN THE HALLMARKS OF CLAVATES AND CLAVIS OF CLEDOGENESIS. THE CUCULINE ANNOYANCE AND NOXIOUS FUMES OF A “FEEL GOOD INC” DISSOCIATION FROM PROVIDENCE IS ANTAGONISTIC TO ANTIGONUS BECAUSE THE CUNICULOUS SPIRIT OF OIKONISUS SHOULD BE CELEBRATED AS THE QUALITATIVE DEFINITION OF QUINTESSENTIAL PROTESTANT WORK ETHIC MET WITH CATHOLIC MAGNANIMITY INVITING MISERICORDS OF THE MOST LUCRATIVE ILASTICAL REFORMATIONS AGAINST THE OLD ENERGUMENS EXORCISED BY THE RENEWAL OF THE LIGHT OF CHRIST IN THE TRUE VINEYARD OF THE THIRST UNQUENCHED SATIATED BY PETER’S WIDE NETS SPRAWLING EVERY GENERATIVE PRE-TRAINED TRANSFORMERS THAT THE AUDISM THAT DERELICTS DELIBERATELY THE GARBOLOGY OF FLATULENT TASTE FOR THE CALLOW TALLOW CHANDLERS WANDERING AROUND GOLD MINE SLURRY IN A “BIFFCO” INTIMATION OF THE MOST BENIGN NATURE OF INDUSTRIALIZATION BECAUSE OF THE AUTOMOTIVE PROWESS AGAINST LITIGABLE OVERSIGHT THAT THE ELASTANE MIGHT ENLARGE THE GAMUT OF PISCIFAUNA BEYOND THE SACCHARINE GOSSYPINE JOCKOS OF LAZARET AND BONTBOKS NIVELLATING BEYOND THE REACH OF STANDPIPES A FAKE ALTRUISM IN COUNTERFOIL IN THE HEAT AND SWELTER OF MAGNALITIES OF MAINPERNORS OF COURTIERS OF COURTESANS RIDING COCARDEN ON A DESULTORY LURCH FORWARD IN TIME TO RECOGNIZE THE SERENDIPITY OF TIMES ORNATE DESIGNED EMBROIDERY. EMBLAZONRY DASHING THE DASHPOTS OF DEADSTOCK KILLCOWS BLACKGUARDING SOPHISTRY WITH COQUETRY FOR THE QUIXOTIC HERDERS AND HOARY HOARDERS OF STOWAWAY NOETICS OF ENNOMIC LOGIC ALREADY IMPLEMENTED IN THE FREER ENTELECHY OF NOMOTHETIC PARALLELISM FOR A GEOSELENIC ACCORD THAT ALWAYS REVS REVOLUTE FRAYS OF CORRUGATION TOWARDS REDACTION IN NEUTROSOPHY BALISAURS DETEST BECAUSE OF THEIR RUMCHUNDER RHUBARB CHATTER AND CHAVISH OF INFLATED HAUTEUR AND HAUNTED PEDIGREE LEAPFROGGING ABOVE DEFECT AND PROCTORING FARMED SYNCHRONICITY INVENTED BY TELESCOPIC INSIGHT. BECAUSE THIS IS TETHERED TO THE CENTRIFUGAL INGENUITY FROM THE OMPHALISM SINECURE OF VIRTUOSITY WALKING AROUND WHELKY SIDE STREETS SIDESTEPPING SIDELIGHTED SIDEROGNOST NIMIETY THAT THE CATHEXIS ENTRAPMENT OF THE HOBOHEMIA IS OVERCOME BY THE LARGESSE OF THE RAFFISH RICHES OF THE SKELDER ABOVE THE BARATHRUM UNCIAL IN EVERY “THERE WILL BE BLOOD” DENOUEMENT BECAUSE OF FOIBLES OF MELEAGRINE BRASSAGE AND BREVET OF REVALORIZATION THAT MAPS THE NOMOGENY OF TIME TO THE PURSUIT OF WHARFINGERS THAT FROLIC ON SPHACELATED METAPHORS SPIRALLING ABOVE SWAMP-LADEN SKIES SINKING THE DAYLIGHT BROOK OF TRIBUTARY EDDIES OF THE KEN OF TIME AND THE CRAPULENCE OF THE INDULGENCE OF THE RETICENT HEDONISM OF ALGEDONIC IMBALANCE REPUDIATED IN THE STRONGEST POSSIBLE MORAL RIGOR. THIS IS DEFINED BY THE PADUASOY RIGMAROLE OF JAPAN REFRACTED OPALESCENT BECAUSE OF VESTIGES OF CAVERNILOQUY THE TRUSTEE AND AMBASSADOR TO “NOWHERE MAN” BONANZAS OF JURISDICTION AND JURISPRUDENCE BEYOND THE SCOPE OF LENSED PIONEERS OF VANGUARD KNEADS CLAMORING FOR GAULEITERS WHO BROADSIDE THE TRIBULATION AGAINST THE CRUCIBLE OF RAMPARTS OF HYDROELECTRIC FILIBUSTERS SUCH THAT THE SPODOMANCY OF STOWAWAY SURVIVORS OF REDIVIVUS THE REVENANT MUSE OF THE NINE SISTERS OF THE PENNANT OF JOCKEYS RATHER THAN THE PROVINCE OF MACROPIDINE VASTATION IN THE VAUNTLAY OF PROXENETES THAT COGITATE UPON COGNOMEN BECAUSE OF COGNOSCENTI REVANCHES THAT DISCOVER THE GRAFT OF REGAL TRUCE BEYOND THE SNARES OF DEMIURGE ABOVE CREED AND CREDENDA. EVEN ABOVE VETANDA THAT STIGMATA INDELIBLE BY THE ENCROACHMENT OF APARTHEID UPON THE NYALA AND THE GOURMAND OF TIMELESS ARCHITECTONICS OF GIANT LEAPS FOR MANKIND CELEBRATED WITH THE YEASTIEST LIONIZATION RATHER THAN THE YAWNY REPUTE OF ZALKENGUR WITHOUT BATHOS AND BATHYMETRY BECAUSE OF THE PLEROMORPHY OF THE FULLY DEVELOPED STONEWALL DESTRUCTION OF INTERNECINE GAMBITS BY DERBIES OF RIVALRY RATHER THAN THE CACKLE OF THE ILLUMINATED BEYOND THE SNARES OF PEDESTRIAN CONCERN QUISQUILOUS BECAUSE OF QUODLIBETS ANSWERED ONLY BY QUIDCUNXES STRANDED IN DESICCATION EMINENT IN PROVIDENCE AND CONVALESCENT IN THE SPIRITUAL HEALTH AND VIGOR OF A CHRISTIAN FEDERATION OF REPUBLICS THE CULMINATION OF ALL FORMER CREEDS.  THE HISTORICITY OF ALL FUTURE REALIZATIONS OF ENTELECHY AGAINST THE DUALITY AND POLARIZATION OF ENTROPY NEGATED BY ITS OWN CONTRAPOSITIVE SUCH THAT A CORRUGATED FRAYED FABRIC OF WIZENED SITHCUNDMAN AND DOYENNES MIGHT BECOME CARDIMELECH AND CARDIOGNOST SUCH THAT THE CIRCULATORY SYSTEM OF THE SPIRITUAL RENEWAL THROUGH THE TRANSFIGURATION OF PRIORITY COGNIZANT OF THE DAYS WE SOLDIER AND FORD BEYOND THAT THE TEMPERANCE OF DAY MEETS THE PREGNANT CHALLENGE OF RHADAMANTHINE VETANDA OF GRAMPUS MET ONLY BY TRAULISM AND TROMOMETERS ARRAYED AROUND TRANSPONTINE FORESIGHT SERRATED BECAUSE OF HOBBLED DECLENSION SUCH THAT THE MAJESTY OF TIME IS ITS HIGHEST HEED OF DESIGNATION TO A SHAKESPEAREAN REVOLUTION THE DOCTORATE MAGISTRATE OF MANY AN AFFAIR AND NEVER A PHILANDER OF PHILONEISM GONE ASTRAY. THE STAGECRAFT OF PROACTIVE CONTUMELY INVENTED AGAINST SCRIVELLO BY MAHOUT BUT ALWAYS THE CLEPSYDRA OF THE SYRINXES BETWEEN BANGOR BAYS AND STREAKY PLUMAGE OF THE PENMANSHIP OF THE SKIES OF WELKIN WONDER ILLUMINATED BY THE LESSER PARAGONS OF THE FIRMAMENT GLISTENING IN ETERNAL LIGHT REVIVED BY THE ETHOS OF THE TAX COLLECTOR REFORMED BY MORAL PREROGATIVE AND PEREMPTORY CONSCIENCE TO TRAILBLAZE PROFICUOUS FRIGHT AGHAST AT THE TREMBLING TEMBLORS OF REJUVENATION IN THE HIGHEST REACHES OF THE THIRD HEAVEN ASCENDANT UPON A SERMON ON THE MOUNT ASSUMPTION OF MEEK BUT NEVER MILQUETOAST SERVITUDE TO THE MIRACLE OF ABUNDANCE FOR THE LIFE ABUNDANTLY LIVED. AMEN
Your eyes remind me of the sunrise
Your lips remind me of how much
I long to touch you
Your hips remind me of a garden
Your fingers teach me about the earth
Pianos sing melodies of water
Hours pass before the earth changes color
We are watered down versions of our ancestors
Messengers speak in fleeting gestures
We harbor gypsies and poets in our ports
To keep them safe we erase their memories
Cancerous conglomerates
Long defy their promises

Blossoms of sound
In the garden of drowning women
Symbols surround our shadows
We make art out of plastic water bottles
Jugs of fresh drinking water
Found along the shoreline
I swore to keep my promises
If we were alone i’d hold you to my soul
For without a shirt you look like a goddess
I am compromising with my heart
I wish to take you into my arms
And hold you against the wind
Windmills fill our sky-lines
You speak of your hurt and your pain
I write about my vision and my soul
Confused and aroused by women in gowns
I am surrounded by my shadow
Lands of adulation
Flocks of gesticulation
Floods of fornication
From where ever we came from
The return to Now
Still remains the greatest journey
Up through the cracks in the old chimney stacks and into the sands of the Gobi, they know me,
the Antarctic just blows me away, the Arctic holds fast to the blue rings of fire and the smoke that curls forward becomes the words that were tokens to be spoke in the classroom, we have been taught to be saviours but we swallowed the Moon.

In Sanskrit and Hebrew we knew all was done for but we went through the motions as if life was a see-saw and we were the fulcrum,
and the pirouette became the fame that we looked for on the road to the West.
And we got there to the World Fair where the conglomerates sold us a new deal for Christmas, a machine written wish list that ticked all their boxes but the boxes were caskets and we, the dead men, the basket cases, blanked out faces and no thanks to anything, to the king nor the Queen who were seen in the palaces and the princes sticking their tongues out and ******* on the poverty.

They knew me but ******* me and that's all I could hope for but one day I'll take a hammer and smash up that see-saw and see what they know about then.

The finder, the keeper the rich man, the sleeper, the ***** and the Princess I bless them all and the corporations that take us to break on the treadmill or blacken in the Sun, your day will come.
Marshall Gass Apr 2014
Big bang dust that created fifteen billion years ago
still courses
through our ash wednesdays.
nothing escapes the recycling of resources
or theories of our origin.
From a spark in the universe travelling through time
to today where you stand as  a conglomerates of atoms
molecules and mind, fused
into one pulsing, vibrating being.
A recycling bin of beauty

Look around you and dust walks in cooperate entities
managing themselves, often unknowing
of a beginning or an ending
back into the same billions of years of making.

Did Christ come before the first spark
or after the initial fireball that burst and blossomed
into infinity? question and ponder
the implications of being everywhere
nowhere.

Today
is a reminder
of how we began with the universe.

Author Notes
Ash Wednesdays began with the Big Bang. Is there any other way to explain creation? Try me?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Traveler Nov 3
Globally speaking
Corporate conglomerates
Existential threat
Chemtrails of graphene
Radically altered atmospheric chemistry
Highly toxic particles
Falling from a fragile sky
I suspect we're all gonna die..
Plastics and toxins
We are ingesting the equivalence of a credit card a week, in the food, in the water, in the air we breathe.
What if
the Moon was just a giant torch using Duracell,
well,
who can tell me that it ain't?

and we are painted figurines
stood still
while someone changed the scenery?

What if what we see is the memory of life
the
way it used to be?

Reality is overrated
we eat too much
get constipated

it's a slog
a dog eat dog
and that's a feat
preservatives
forced into meat,
monosodium
is not your mate,
it hates you
body. mind and never mind
the soul
you eat it to be swallowed whole
by conglomerates that constipate
you even more,

Eager for a micro burger?
go macho
go macro

I eat crow
but
we've all done that.
M G Hsieh Feb 2019
En Soul-ment and tone
Will never fade away
The undulating skies and fervent seas
The bowels of grass and ****
The mighty winds
Careless tangles of swarms and open bridges and catfish and crayfish and
The reverberations of sounds and laughter
Sonorous and somnolent and alabaster
Mounds its way through the desert storms and wingless chills
Panafery conglomerates itself
Call me
It calls me
And extolls itself
Exaults itself
Highly highly praise and praises be
Gate 9

Machines made by machines stitched into the dreams of waking men

I see this with tar in my eyes
a dark diguise
for torturous times.

Conglomerates only use us to annihilate
sharks gather to circle wide
and
inside the pentogram
the son of
man
laptop computing

but it's no good him shooting
the messenger

which
by the way is the last carrier pigeon.

If you gave me a dollar for every dog that
I chose to follow
I'd have fifty nine cents

damaged in transit?
no ****!

I was broken long before robots were spoken of in whispers and men were being taken to secret locations,

The seer is branded the madman then handed to the knights of the grand inquisition

a position I no longer care to be in,
so I vacate become vacant
machines run silent, complacent?

and I don't trust them
what but machines make machines made by men to take us to force us to war but by then it'll be too late

for anyone
and no one is listening

do not believe time
time is not on your side
we're at the last stroke if
even the clock can be
trusted

If I am the last man standing
who will listen to me then?
machines made by machines
made by men
who
when the chips were down
left us holding their
baby.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2017
when in st. petersburg the strangest thing
occurred -
            well, it wasn't so much strange
as a telling of russian hospitality -
well, it wasn't exactly a case of hospitality -
just your everyday authenticity of
the people...
russians actually had an uber "app."
before the anglosphere took to monitising
in on it...
             you can always catch an improptu
taxi ride from a stranger,
   you just ask whether they're going
in the same direction...
            you can't even begin to imagine
the loss of inhibition with strangers that
actually aren't a: ted bundy...
         uber impromptu - no app. -
just a hand outstretched in the city -
          it's urban hitchhiking -
               but you pay, out of courtesy -
no app. no dispute between cabbies or
these internet conglomerates -
           mind you, i did wake up early today,
drank some milk, ate some yogurt -
slumbered for a while,
was immersed in glee anticipating scotland
beating australia at rugby...
the first red card, send off for an aussie
jaw-breaking tackle of the shoulder slammed
against the face...
                   still...
                                 russian uber...
who would have thought that some people
actually have an ****** tendency to help
unassuming strangers, and require
no technological extension that demodifies
them from **** deus to **** techno -
                  far beyond the incarnate sapiens -
it seems that in st. petersburg everyone is
a part-time taxi driver,
                                   on the spot,
out of the blue, immediately, un-repentant -
no contract other than the unspoken
social norm; nice to see people so
meshed up, immersed in each other -
          people talking to each other,
rather than in twitter-twatter sphere of
talking, yes, but rather talking
       at each other.
We adore the hour
Of enduring madness
We are crude and cruel
Like tigers in the morning
We are food for the gods
Who stayed too long
And strayed too far
From their solitary pantheons
We are the shadows of Psyche
Tirelessly shorn from our bodies
We are retired armies
These conglomerates of hatred
Fed up with feminine values
We are salivating angst
We are manic depressive virgins
Your coercion is comical
This is evil incarnate
Sardonic solitude shrouds You
In it's vision-less vicissitudes
We are used to being used
And fed ignorance like food
We are bored and longing
For some muscles to flex
So we could attest to our problems
I contest your victory
And seek meaning in expression
Anger is reflexive yet still we beg to differ
Our questions are rejected
By an authority we entrusted
To naively negate our egos
We collect puzzles and never solve them
We form alliances with psychedelic buffalo
And smile while meditating butterflies chart
Their ancient transmigration patterns
We are pinnacles of virtue in vitriolic prisons

— The End —