Tuesday, July 29, 2008


What can I say before every liquid fire brain drop has scattered into the vacuum to be evenly distributed throughout an infinite expanse in which there can be no center, only an endless number of stars emanating light in waves of particles quivering out to fill every crack and crevice? The laws they tried to teach in Sunday school were overly converted, there was very little there to power this system.
There need be only two clearly understood rules to begin this game:
That the amount of energy available within the universe as we know it is constant and neither reducible nor increaseable
That energy can be more or less convertible, and once converted it can not be unconverted.
Once converted it is as unusable as the scores of born again Christian spread about the floor of the inland valley, waiting to be sucked into the bottom of a black lake, or into a rickety tavern, or one more shopping center converted into an ALANO club meeting place or a House of Christ’s Little Lamb Chops of Hope. Conversion and re-conversion is the magic of the black sages hiding on the other side of your bathroom looking glass, in that world where they walk around on the ceiling and drive their cars from the right side. Yes, I mean England. Isn’t that where Aleister Crowley dwelt? And didn’t he after all write The Book Of The Law as dictated by his half baked love nun, dear Rose, during their honey moon under the wretched and blessed heat of that giant plasma ball called "sun" along the rank shores of the river Nile?

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