This is a surrealist game of creating meaning through chance. Take five books that are important to you in some way, make a wish while holding them, then open the top book. With as little delay as possible, select a short phrase that your eyes fall upon, then open the next book and do the same. When you have done this with all five books, start over in reverse order. Catalogue the results by placing the selected words for each book on a separate line, and break off the paragraph after the fifth line. Complete the process five or six times, or carry on as long as you like. Share the results, or not.
WILL NOT MARRY OUTSIDE ITSELF
TO JOIN THEORY WITH PRACTICE
CAUSE AN OBSERVER TO FORGET HER AGE
IF THE ‘AESTHETIC STATE’
OF HIS OWN HEAD
SHOULD HAVE NO PLACE
THE FATHER AND MOTHER
FROM THE OLD TO THE NEW
IN SO FAR AS
INTERSPERSED WITH OATHS
TO THIS SORT OF ILLUSION
THIS PENCHANT MANIFESTS ITSELF
AND ADOPT A DOCILE ATTITUDE
THE LATTER MAY BECOME FREELY ADAPTABLE TO CULTURE
BETWEEN THE TWO SCRIPTURES
THE FIRST OF THESE FACTORS
THE GREAT ACTIVITY
SHALL SEE VISIONS
TRANSFORMATION IS THE ISOLATED DEED
THE SEVENTEENTH DAY
WILL HEAR THE ORCHESTRA
PROBLEMS OF EQUILIBRIUM
A DISCUSSION WHICH COULD LEAD US FAR
AS THE ARENA
WE BECOME HIS BODY
A FEW MORE PSYCHIC PECULIARITIES
IT IS TRUE
THE ENORMOUS IMPORTANCE
WITHOUT EXTERNAL REPRESSIVE MODIFICATIONS
WOULD PERHAPS HEAR THE CALL
WILL NOT MARRY OUTSIDE ITSELF
10-07
With Fourier, Sade, Marcuse, O.Brown and Freud, in hopes of creating a harmonian cylinder
1 comment:
AND IF THIS WERE THE ONLY ABUSE!
Anyway here the horse was, tied up in the buttery,
I put no value into my desire or my opinions
However far-fetched this theory may appear,
Fire Snake suspended from a gallows,
I must go home pretty soon.
Some frightful nights must have passed in that fortress,
Which denotes the place of the crossing.
Going away from me in my darkness
The fellow’s power frightens me
Turned out to be a bragging degenerate.
Peculiar long-nosed wooden horses
Did not soar above the care
A high saddle is a power for the hills.
There is a clue to the mysteries:
Man-of-the-world priests in easy circumstances.
I thought there were such undercurrents
The Black Goddess of Time
Littered among the boulders on a hill
The initial moves were the seizure of
An expression of the whole soul.
It was just the soul slowly emerging out of the strychnine
Ever displayed on a high holiday
Unearthly leaps of shadow on his gross countenance
A mere simulacrum of the creative spirit
And if this were the only abuse!
(with Malcolm Lowry, Joseph Conrad, Flann O‘Brien, Kenneth Grant, J.K Huysmans hoping for a damson orchard.)
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