Crowley was particularly energetic and I was just pissed off as we walked outta the Rialto, having just watched some Vaudeville patchwork of pseudophilosophy and quasirealism and postmodernselfconciousirony and Intelligence like a rubber stamp and quota system, a new Hollywood paint-by-numbers, another Joel pounding cigar haze with an authorative ( Read more... )

*Fucking* bureaucracy. Today, I tried to use the overdraft from my bank and discovered that right now, when I really need to use it, that it's been expired because apparently it's a new financial year and I need to reapply. Which is okey but I'm of course expected to care so much that I keep track of this as opposed to the other things which ( Read more... )

I found The Truth today and it only cost me $16, which is sort-of Bargainish, really:

"The Book of Truth", by Osiris (channelled by El Eros {also known as H.C. Randall-Stevens}), Knights Templars of Aquarius, London.

So it *can't* be a load of old bollocks.

Read this today: "And if 1anyone was not found awritten in the book of life, he was cast into the lake of fire." And thought "Oh God, even Heaven has a bureaucracy ( Read more... )

I'm not sure I'll find a quote any time soon that has as much personal meaning as this one. It's from Frederick Karl's Introduction to William Gaddis' "JR ( Read more... )

Last night I had a particularly feverish dream involving a multitude of voices all my own but dissimilar in some way who were their own unit, their own existence, and all suggested that they were the true voice while the others were fantasy. At least, this was the inference. They were screaming for me to listen to their worries and complaints, as ( Read more... )

A while ago I called up The Bank and asked them if I had my thousand dollar overdraft. They said yes. Reassured so, I journeyed down to the supermarket to buy a shitload of energy drinks, only to find to my horror that my transaction was declined. So I called up The Bank again and waited patiently on hold for half an hour and was tole by a ( Read more... )

Delia says: but what is worthy is for people to tell us of our lives so that we can see the beauty of them or the song in them.

There is a girl who loves me even though I fear it is ridiculous to do so. I tell her this and she replies with ( Read more... )

Or perhaps this is one of those projects I intend to do but fail due to a form of pre-emptive entropy, a self-concious Gersham's Law, a menacing phantom you glance out of the corner of your eye when you hear a whispered voice who begs to be written. Is it paranoia of the self that's turning concepts into shadowy threats ( Read more... )