Sacred Disease

Once again, we chopped up books*.

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Transcription:

ON THE SACRED DISEASE

Of little children who are seized with this disease, the greater part die.
Do not take the small bag.
As it was a rainy day, it is used after the expression of feeling 25 kilos, sir.
People don’t have fortunes left them in that style nowadays;
She said that she would come with me next time when addressing very young children or animals.
Amy felt relieved, and laid it by to show Laurie, whom she wanted as a second witness.
His brother Dimitri collect Old Masters, esp. Dutch School, Flemish masters and it is used for direct commands.
What traffic in the streets!  A very strange paradox exists in a very easy business.
An aesthetic which arose in Russia based on the Futurist cult of the machine.
All right.  Please send a boy.
Have you tobacco, perfume or liquors to declare?
“How long have you been here?”
The swellings which arise in the ham, woman had signed her name,
“You devoted John”

*any & all books sacrificed for this effort were already without covers and in most cases doomed for the recycling bin

-BRP

The End of Men

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(transcript)

The End of Men (El libro)
*Men are unable to give birth, to keep the species going.

Having go the anus to protrude as much as possible, torment shows the transition from brilliant colour to crudely simple draughtsmanship and solidly modelled form.

However, there are certain differences in pronunciation between the spoken language.

Jo pointed, and Laurie sat up to examine; for through an opening in Mexico City, but the other one stops at Veracruz.

The 1880s were prolific years, but years of continued poverty and depression until in 1889.  Tommy Bangs will smoke sweet-fern cigars under the bedclothes,

“What does Amy call you?”

“My lord. Viola and Angelo are two of our favorite names. Isn’t that queer?” said Meg.

The intention was to cover both end walls, the one with the Fall of the Rebel Anges as the prelude to the ceiling and the other with the Last Judgment [20.12] as the consummation of the whole subject-cycle.  Then, on the third day, wash it out with a dry wine.  In Spain and in most of Spanish America, pour forth blood;

Great Scott!  I do not have much time.

This project was done in the past.  It will be discussed in the future.  At some point, someone – somewhere – will attempt to replicate the process.  It will be glorious.

-BRP

Real vs. Fictional

Oh, my aching gourd. Coffee night left my subconscious mind feeling bruised and sore. Ok, maybe I showed up a little damaged, but there was something especially odd last night. If I had to describe it, I’d make some kind of musical reference: Last night’s theme song was a David Bowie medley, performed by a TMBG/Ween jam session. There, how’s that?

Somehow, we got on the subject of ‘Real’ people versus ‘Fictional’ characters. I could reach deep down and pick out some kind of pseudo-intellectual ‘artist statement’ if you like. Hm, let’s see…

The juxtaposition of ‘Real’ versus ‘Fictional’ highlights the duality of human consciousness. The face we wear in public is always at odds with our private self. The ‘roles’ we assume in our daily relations differ little from the secrets that lie behind the masks. By highlighting the absurdist yadda yadda, blah blah, blahbity blah…

You get the picture. Hey, I’ve got an idea! Howzibout I shut up and post the Thing? Good? Here is Thing.

Hillary -vs- Obama

bottom of the cup

HEY! It’s time for more SG haiku! Yay!

kittens in mittens
what is this world coming to?
vote for Obama!

Hillary shall reign
over all the monkey towns
happy monkey dance

go-go pudding pop
sometimes a great notion
is better not done

teeth in vaginas
that sounds like a bad date dude…
Hillary’s bettah!

Snow job

coffee zen

I drove home from a (very) late night at work in the snow.  Something about being the first person to drive down the blank slate of a snowy road at 2 AM is just magical to me.  The radiant white, untouched by other tires and the near-perfect quiet of it all.  It may sound strange, but it’s a very zen experience – one I’ve had many times.

Going past our Coffee Night haunt, I felt a small pang of loneliness.  I shook off the urge to pull in and grab a cup of joe.  Now, I wonder – who might I have bumped into?  Who is out there, lurking in the coffee joints of the world at this hour?  Even if I’ve never met them, I can’t help but feel like a kindred spirit.  Except , of course, I drove on home.

It doesn’t matter where I go, or what becomes of me in this life – part of me will always be at coffee.  Waiting for my friends to show up.  Drawing and writing and making light, in the middle of darkness.  That’s all right with me; that’s just perfect.

Cheers.

-BRP

Eyes & Throats

Hey, look!

In the interests of FUN, I’m posting these… odd Coffee Night photos. I find them to be equally fascinating and disturbing. Enjoy.

Yay! There’s that. Have fun, trying to match up those gorgeous eye to the terrible, terrible mouths. Cheers!

-BRP

Play with your food!

    I’ll be the first to admit that our Coffee Night shenanigans can get outta hand.  The near-total abandonment of civil ‘norms’ is what caused me to start calling it the Poor Man’s Algonquin Table, after all.  Besides the farting (TJ) and the inappropriate touching (TJ!) and the utterly disgusting, gut-churning things some people say (TJ– oh wait, that’s me), we also like to play with things.  Sometimes, we take pictures.  Enjoy.

mmm… how’s that smell?

finger food!

still tender

why does this one bother me so?

ahhh… foot butter…

SQUISHY! squish squish squish!

And, finally, I’d like to introduce you to…

the pickle skier!

No, I don’t really understand ‘why’ either.  That’s ok.  It’s all part of a process.  What process?  Hm, howzibout “the process of transformative context, via the mechanism of cognitive dissonance – interruption of normal, expected narratives in the actions (lives) of common objects (such as food) brings new insights and discoveries; to the meanings of the objects, the relationship with the viewer and most especially to the world around us”…

Of course, I could be talking out my ass.  Maybe we are just playing with our food.  Ya know, either way…

-BRP