Of course, it was customary in the 15th century to swear on something more lofty than a testicle. But the sun sinks west of the city. So note the poem beginning To begin with. What we call taste is actually almost all smell. If you try hard enough you can hear the sound of Gaia turning. To some it’s a whirring sort of noise, to others it sounds more grinding. Obviously where the snows of last year are is here. God how you sweat! His fame as a pilot lent a certain dignity to the vanguard activities in which he participated – often appearing with an airplane painted on his forehead. That’s right, y’all. Anyone can have a dead pony, but it takes a specially fucked up kind of birthday wish to end up with a dead pegasus. Make sure when writing about my new album / project ARTPOP that you CAPITALIZE the title, *its all in the details* good morning twitter! Hey, I’ve got an idea: let’s go shoot up … I know! A Sikh mosque! Happy birthday, Andy! Isn’t our heart a sidewalk? Isn’t our body a wreck? Isn’t our pictures soaked in wine? Aren’t we drinking from our mother's hands in Hiroshima? Aren’t there hummingbirds feeding from our open sores? In the summer of the Upper Engadine I had been convinced that I did not live ghost upper latter Sumer when >>>led <<< to ^^^ as braveolene ecce homo with fork and spoon this suited plate hat or upside down the head meal ponder the last supper the first season reason how facts face fiction out in its stead the rocky face before all time time beginning time remain eloquent homogeny again, again, again??? What good does it do to say with Descartes, larvatus prodeo: I come forward, bewitched-slash-masked? We walked under the syrupy / tree, its cum-fragrance hazing / the surrounding air. / The image car deviates / like it’s begging for food. / And to think / it thinks some spells are conductive, and goes on letting / you believe just what it does. But those who make it look mostly just like to wander around with one foot forever stuck in a landfill they make funny faces with your bloody dreggel as zzzzz. So is the rest of us and everyone ugly and has no track. Have they poured smoke into our pipes, Master? My brain is like a little cat stomach. “A Procession of the damned. By the damned, I mean the excluded.” Falls of fish and stones from the sky, Rains of blood and flesh. People disappearing and reappearing and disappearing and reappearing and disappearing and reappearing. Pareidolia is the collective terminology to denote interpretation of sensory perception (usually vision or hearing) of meaningless stimuli in terms of something meaningful. The paradigm examples are faces in the clouds, the man in the moon, hearing words in music that is played backwards. According to Stewart Guthrie (1993, Faces in the clouds) they are good examples of the dictum that it's better to be safe than sorry. Better to have a false positive (seeing a face, viz a social agent where there is none) than a false negative (failing to see a social agent where there is one). This would plausibly explain why many instances of pareidolia are faces. Michael Taussig, in his new book Beauty and the Beast, calls this “cosmic surgery.” He writes, “For have not women’s bodies become a type of agribusiness, along with monocropping, artificial fertilizers, dangerous pesticides, and irrigation? And has not nature struck back…? That woman in the dark, hot room, in a coma after a lipo, the woman who can’t close her eyes, the woman breathing like a cat, those double mastectomies and liters of pus drained from each buttock.” “A breach of reality,” Taussig calls it, but then what is reality? Jean Améry wrote once that the Auschwitz number tattooed on his left arm gave more information than the Talmud or the Pentateuch. I’m sure you have no idea now why you wrapped your feet in aluminum foil.
[Note: Sources: Jean Calais / Stephen Rodefer, and Francois Villon, in Calais/Rodefer’s Villon; Steve McCaffery and Jed Rasula, “Vasily Kamensky”, in Imagining Language: An Anthology (eds. Rasula and McCaffery); Jenny Lawson, “I’m tempted to do this whole post in caps. THAT’S HOW EXCITED I AM ABOUT IT”, at The Blogess, 6 Aug 012; Lady Gaga, as quoted in Hrag Vartanian, “Brace Yourselves, Lady Gaga Goes ARTPOP”, at Hyperallergic, 6 Aug 012; JBR (channeling the white supremacist “terrist” (as George Bush called em) who shot up the Sikh temple in Milwaukee, 5 Aug 012, and acknowledging Andy Warhol’s birthday, 6 Aug 012); \Johannes Göransson, “Isn’t Poetry Dead”, at Montevidayo, 5 Aug 011 (lines used last year when the anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing rolled around, and, for the same occasion, used again); phaneronoemikon, “Eloquent Homogeny”, at Jellybean Weirdo With Electric Snake Fang, 6 Aug 012; JBR;
blurb for Jon R. Snyder, Dissimulation and the Culture of Secrecy in Early Modern Europe, and PROZ.com; Dunstan Christopher, “Chadwick Motif No. 120”, Ally Harris, “Overpass”, Ben Mirov, “From darklings”, Daniel Poppick, “Glass Horse”, as quoted in “Word Choice. 2012 Poetry Contest: Six Poems”, at BOMBLOG, 6 Aug 012; Stina Kajaso, “Joe lab rat”, at SONOFDAD, 6 Aug 012; William Keckler, “My Brain”, at Joe Brainard’s Pyjamas (The Sequel), 6 Aug 012; Charles Fort, and Tony Morrill, “Happy Birthday Mr. Fort!”, at Disinformation, 6 Aug 012 (6 Aug = Charles Fort’s birthday); Helen de Cruz, “Why don't we see Richard Dawkins in a tortilla? The puzzle of religious pareidolia”, at New APPS, 6 Aug 012 (“Christians across the world see the face of Jesus in slices of pizza, coffee mugs, toast, and even a cross-section of kit kat. Catholics see the face of the Virgin Mary. Muslims see fragments of Qu’ran verses or God's name in beehives, watermelons, and chapattis. The Muslim example is particularly interesting, because the pareidolia aren’t faces but a word in calligraphy. Hindus see Hanuman. Similarly, the backwards played music isn't just random words, but typically, sinister satanic messages. So why religious social agents, rather than just social agents? Why don’t we see Richard Dawkins in a tortilla? I'm not claiming that there are never non-religious pareidolia. But they are a lot rarer than the religious ones …” The author, quite reasonably, has no idea why); Elizabeth Bachner, “DEGENERATION: READING “‘DECADENCE’”, at Bookslut, Aug 012; Brad Zellar, “All Those Lost Years”, at Your Man For Fun In Rapidan, 5 Aug 012]