Adjagas – Mun ja Mun
Greeting the dawn
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Rime of the Ancient Mariner – Orson Welles, Larry Jordan Part 1
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moth here.
the ubiquitous moth bent-winged its way toward a scotch pine, landed and wondered if any of a number of bird of prey had calculated its location. satisfied that no danger followed he called to his grandchild and awaited his appearance.
——–
grandson, hid and rigid to a fault, stiffly removed all pretense of concealment and to his grandfather fluttered.
come. grandfather encouraged.
grandfather produced a partially consumed paste of leaf. grandson completed the course and licked grandfather’s face in appreciation as well as hope that a bit more would be found about the corners of grandfather’s mouth.
grandfather laughed and promised grandson there would be more tomorrow. but now…now it was time to watch! the two turned to view the hill’s dirt road. already an upright figure, with cages in left and right hands, makes way across the hill.
clear view. grandfather…so many years yet the desire stirs within…the great cloth about the upright figure. o to spend even my last day into the cloth!
he turns to grandson gozo. listen to me carefully. you must avoid the upright one. the temptation of the cloth is in each and every one of us. but watch…
gozo blinks. a soft hum of longing emerges from his rubbing wings.
the upright figure stops at an opening and rests the cages to the earth. he bends and disengages the gate of the smaller housing. a streaked and low-running animal is released and the upright one turns to watch its course.
a curious sound trails the animal.
gozo. that is a ferret. fixed with a bell.
——-
after streaking to the edge of the woods the ferret runs a course back and forth, gradually moving in the direction towards its point of origin. the terrain’s pitched and rocked efforts to slow the ferret fail to register effect. in fact, the ferret’s drive quickens and he breaks from his grid.
the ferret dives under a weed clump and the upright figure breaks in full stride towards the clump. the figure marks the spot with a stake into the earth and listens intently. the ferret’s bell is underground! and moving towards the forest edge.
the upright one hooks a net to the stake, moves in the direction of the forest and hooks another stake planted at the forest’s edge. he waits.
The Professor’s nutmeg kicks in
Les Maitres Fous (part 1/3)
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Beware of six legs
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The archangel takes Klare out for a spin
Don John makes a confession
In all his petty delinquencies, the Don has never dared broach the last dam.
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Music for Batuk
Clapton & Winwood – Had to Cry Today (Crossroads)
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On the Nature of the Troll
Dr. Grintspeed writes:
There is a commonly held opinion – and my good friend Professor kargatron will agree with me that commonly held opinions are almost invariably false in their contents and flaky in their expression – that the Troll is a distinct personality type with certain recognizable and regrettable characteristics.
This is, quite frankly, baloney, with a side order of Cinderella’s pumpkin. The Troll is, in reality, an emergent property of the internet itself. Wherever an internet “conversation” is held (we will leave the term “conversation” in the bucket for the moment), and wherever there are three or more identity labels functioning as discursive boundary markers within a given “conversation”, one of the markers will sooner or later be awarded the additional marker of “Troll”. Read more…
The 68 memorial farewell thread
Don Pedro sang this song :
Every story is a world, and every song is a story. Worlds belong to no-one, although they take temporary residence upon our tongues and fingers, spoken, chanted and accompanied. It is right that the messenger should be paid, in love, in kind or, as is the way with you, in money. But messengers are not gods, even when they are in the service of gods. Messengers are women and men, and they should eat, sleep, fuck and fight with women and men. They should drink with them, from the same bottle, and lift the food to their mouths from the same plates.
Lay out your bottles, and let them be filled. It will cost you more than the water that you fetch from the river. It can cost you much more, however much you pay for it.
A world in each bottle. Lift the bottle to your lips and taste the world.
Do Not Feed the Trolls!
This is an edited version of the Do Not Feed the Trolls thread. I’ve included all of my posts, and all of 68’s. I will include others as and when their authors agree. The main point of doing this is to see how well the WordPress program adapts to our needs.
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