by achrilock
The primates of Earth tend to go a little crazy in spring. Probable catalyst being a subconscious desire, and biological imperative, to mate with novel partners for the purpose of humanoid pollination, which their societies prohibit. Akin to the reversal of the phenomenon known as the ‘wormy paradox,’ wherein cold air, water, or encounters with disagreeable people cause the penis to retract into its own form, creating an implosive singularity of squish. An imperfect, but useful, inverse analogy.
Lynyrd Skynyrd – Call Me The Breeze
Also, the colonial project, and its inheritor capitalism, has always been a project of the creation of controlled spaces, physical, sensory, systemic, legal, and now cognitive and emotive. This is as much a disease of the mind and soul as it was once a surety and comfort to the body, though it now poisons the body as much as the mind. The true costs of this control are hidden and deferred, but they are very high, and they are coming due in our lifetimes. A new way will be found, or we will die.
Looking backward into shared stories can teach us things, about ourselves, about others, and about how to be better people. But deities and cults have lifespans, just like human beings. They come and go in time. Anyone who tells you that they are more than parables, that, through them, these stories will solve your problems, is not interested in solving your problems but rather in controlling you and your life for their own ends. The forces of this universe operate independently of our beliefs.
‘sophist-a-cat’ by achrilock | 2024
And worst of all, the little spritz of slurry on top of the shit sundae, is the fact that a lot of them airdrops seem to be failing. How hard is gravity? What are the American purple paying for? What if the trapezoid had to invade the orphanage to stop the Kremlin Hitler baby from invading Chinese waters? And the fuel for the brave men women was compressed sandwich meat product? Would it arrive? No, no it would not! And that failure is coming out of your checks, my friends. Gone!
Mary Chapin Carpenter – Down At The Twist And Shout
Cliff Eidelman – Rura Penthe