Word

Up.

Yup.

Sup.

It is snowing lots.

I am trying to remember what warm sand at the beach feels like.

Only by forgetting this primitive world of metaphor can one live with any repose, security, and consistency within a technology breakdown: only by means of the petrification and coagulation of a mass of images which originally streamed from the primal faculty of human imagination like a fiery liquid, only in the invincible faith that this sun, this window, this table is a truth in itself, in short, only by forgetting that he himself is an artistically creating subject, does man live with any repose, security, and consistency. If but for an instant he could escape from the prison walls of this faith, his"self consciousness” would be immediately destroyed. It is even a difficult thing for him to admit to himself that the insect or the bird perceives an entirely different world from the one that man does, and that the question of which of these perceptions of the world is the more correct one is quite meaningless, for this would have to have been decided previously in accordance with the criterion of the correct perception, which means, in accordance with a criterion which is not available. But in any case it seems to me that “the correct perception"-which would mean “the adequate expression of an object in the subject"-is a contradictory impossibility. For between two absolutely different spheres, as between subject and object, there is no causality, no correctness, and no expression; there is, at most, an aesthetic relation: I mean, a suggestive transference, a stammering translation into a completely foreign tongue-for which I there is required, in any case, a freely inventive intermediate sphere and mediating force. “Appearance” is a word that contains many temptations, which is why I avoid it as much as possible. For it is not true that the essence of things “appears” in the empirical world. A painter without hands who wished to express in song the picture before his mind would, by means of this substitution of spheres, still reveal more about the essence of things than does the empirical world. Even the relationship of a nerve stimulus to the generated image is not a necessary one. But when the same image has been generated millions of times and has been handed down for many generations and finally appears on the same occasion every time for all mankind, then it acquires at last the same meaning for men it would have if it were the sole necessary image and if the relationship of the original nerve stimulus to the generated image were a strictly causal one. In the same manner, an eternally repeated dream would certainly be felt and judged to be reality. But the hardening and congealing of a metaphor guarantees absolutely nothing concerning its necessity and exclusive justification.

Ah, but this could be:
A missed syllable somewhere.
Where could it have gone?

Our nether regions
lead to our baser instincts
doing what they will.

Yeah..sometimes I wake up and feel claustrophobic inside my body.

The DSM-III eliminated the diagnosis of neurosis,

So now I am free to re-define the word neurotic, as mentally sexy.

“It sometimes happens,” said a claustrophobic pedant and trifle- retailer, “that I honour and respect an unselfish man: not, however, because he is unselfish, but because I think he has a right to be useful to another man at his own expense. In short, the question is always who HE is, and who THE OTHER is. For instance, in a person created and destined for command, self- denial and modest retirement, instead of being virtues, would be the waste of virtues: so it seems to me. Every system of unegoistic morality which takes itself unconditionally and appeals to every one, not only sins against good taste, but is also an incentive to sins of omission, an ADDITIONAL seduction under the mask of philanthropy—and precisely a seduction and injury to the higher, rarer, and more privileged types of men. Moral systems must be compelled first of all to bow before the GRADATIONS OF RANK; their presumption must be driven home to their conscience—until they thoroughly understand at last that it is IMMORAL to say that 'what is right for one is proper for another.'"—So said my moralistic pedant and bonhomme. Did he perhaps deserve to be laughed at when he thus exhorted systems of morals to practise morality? But one should not be too much in the right if one wishes to have the laughers on ONE’s OWN side; a grain of wrong pertains even to good taste.

I will curtsy to that line of reason.

Enjoy the infinite number of spices in your cabinet.

Well its been over a year since I have seen this thread. And it indeed as grown. Good for you guys to keep it going.

Maybe a sincere note to Kris Kringle under your pillow might work.


Snowingsnowingsnowingpelletspelletspelletsslickwaterslickwater.

Memories of weighing 55lbs.

My father carrying me up the long steep hill, behind his sisters house in
Pottstown,Pa.

The layer of ice was at least an inch thick over three feet of snow.
Every step he took, a moments hesitation as his booted foot broke through,
the ice chafing his shins I imagine.

He set me down on my stomach, gave a right good push on the soles of my boots, my arms as wings.

No trees to crash into, simply a marvelous time, the hill had undulations that
kept the descent speed variable.

Years later, I realized just how much effort he put forth that day.
Thanks Dad.

A friend of mine in NY took this pic of a note attached to a phone pole located in Union Square:


http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2355/...89128e9a_b.jpg

That's quite the elaborate "Missing Bike" sign.

mmm... cookies exchange.

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/28/64...9a9945de_m.jpg

Dracula, Draculaaa

Dracula, Draculaaa

Dracula, Draculaaa

Dracula, Draculaaa

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2362/...41134b98d9.jpg

I joined TFP on SAMHAIN.

European paper money is intricately intriguing.

Romanian in particular.

Check out my profile pic.

Post script: First Dibs on all the chewy edge pieces of those cookies!

No not really, I like to share, I must curb my selfish tendencies.

with 2!! not just 1.

Hello MexicanOnaBike,

I have been pedalling,

nice to see you did you have an O.K day?

"People come and go so quickly here"

SSTAge FRight.



Gentle me firmly
until I laugh or bite you,
I fear no shadow.

I need more tinfoil
for the lining of my cave
so I go insane.

keep on going!

what food is fuel
can I find the fire escape,
firemen are hot.

Ninety-nine forty?
No way, could it really be?
I've dated myself.

Ah-ha?

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2329/...7f19fe0b_o.jpg

ninethousandninehundredforty 2 for tea and tea for two.

May I have some, please?
I have no sense of timing...
Chamomile and rue.

You have now found yourself trapped in the incomprehensible

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/100/2...2f49621231.jpg

And may I stay there?
Or must I be hurried on
to other wonders?

9÷9+4=5

Is the "Rocky Mtn Bulldogs" a real team, or is my sweatshirt lying?

I still wanna see some tits......



http://www.ducttapeguys.com/

White Minus Red Equals Blue.

Hello

My mind has halted to a grind,
there's nothing left but melon rind.

Where oh where, can I find
The monster whom on my brain has dined?

Cow brains don't taste bad.

You say some funny things.

Moo to you too.:D

We're close to 10k!

"Do Beauty Things" - Chuck the bicycle messenger in New York 1983

Likewise with technology. I hate, hate, hate technology that makes my life more difficult. For example mobile phones. They are a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Supposed to make life more convenient and simple. Hah! Is trying to type complicated text messages on those tiny keys easy? Is trying to work out how to bluetooth a photo from my computer to the phone easy? Well apparently it is, but I can’t bloody do it!

Hell, I didn't even know what a troll was until recently,
I didn't know what people meant by LOL, I kept picturing people lolling
and roffling around.

I'm still clinging to my Olympus OM-2S camera.
I will get a digital camera soon, need to learn about them first.
What constitutes a good one, and all that.

This dinosaur has the capability to evolve.

Poignancy
A bittersweet song,
That heartens.

Endearingly Weird
Spacey Gracie my nickname,
Bumping into walls.