http://www.moddb.com/members/29552/san-j/blog Subscribe to the Mod DB San-J blog feed, and get the latest updates as they are posted. en-us Fri, 16 May 2008 14:55:14 -0500 Copyright 2008, DesuraNET Pty Ltd Articles 180 http://static.moddb.com/cutoff/images/logos/rss.png http://www.moddb.com/ 120 90 http://www.moddb.com/members/29552/san-j/blog/24234/mankind-was-gay-in-a-very-merry-way Sat, 10 Nov 2007 14:43:23 -0600 Me? As far as I know, I'm a wayward wandering wonderer grasping out at intruding delusions of truth beyond this finely knit veil called "perception"; sober carbon cognition and recognition - ammunition for a bastion of dysfunctional functions - is what they really meant. In any case, shortly after an awe-inspiring nebula formed lovingly somewhere near my legionnaire-lesioned left lobe, star shards of a quintessence divided the dust and rust and paupered the Piper to the gates of dawn. Rats ran past the Atom Heart Mother's suckling synchotron as it became a silicone-toned rolling stone of bones, crying lines of the Bagvadgita between intermittent moans. A shout was heard -- "Comte shrinked Der Vater!". All the same, they really only understood, 'don't drink the water...' Mankind was gay in a very merry way while I spitting cherry pits from Stirner's five pillars of creation and Finnigan's knave was grooving with some small species of furry fornicating fauna in a cave before the waves. Tide is in and the tidings are out: Celine was right despite leaving his gin in Berlin - replacing the rites and relentlessly reinstating reason is a double-plus-obfuscating euphemism for entering the Den of Zen. 'Hieronimo is mad again(e)' Tom said, alluding to the Renaissance men that spoke in tongues and lungs and breather'd deep Boyle's pump, leaving their livers to the lives and hives of a thousand diverted divers combing the depths for the five lost aqualungs of an Atlantic copulation acropolis. Dr. Livingstone presumably cried the Ode to Joy a-top a peace train on his Rastafarian safari, but was drowned out by Heidegger the Grave Digger as the bitter old man came by and buried nihil ad rem drivel of the synaptic sky above with two gloves and a shovel. Violently (yet oh-so lovingly) launched into something crowned 'nothing' posing as SOMETHING by its own right, I'm spinning 'round and 'round on the ground while the ever-pounding sounds of a self-contained metamorphosis echo jubilantly across the mounds and out beyond the whirling shroud of dark atomic clouds. Falling into myself I find that nothing is different yet that something couldn't be the same; I've discovered awe... But what was my name? articles24234 http://static.moddb.com/cutoff/images/logos/articles.png