Numinosum Radio

eyes was not / of film as / you can still get a

Persons in juxtaposition; the heads of persons, juxtaposed. They will – they do – face each other and they will (do) speak, are (are) speak(ing).

Remember the Unborn Child, hyperborean, immense.

Examination of the offering; the offering is accepted, and grrr…. grrrrr… the god becomes manifest.

oOo

I shaved today my muzzy mug, shaved it bare and clear. Cut off my eyes, my nose, my mouth, I even cut the ears.

The room was full of people who were not there. Amsterdam, August 2022.

He was not a rhetorician. But he knew one from before.

Running through Chinatown, I have several small pins nailed into my face.

The focus now has shifted somewhat between the two.

The treachery of homes and Liberation through Eating.

soul cohesion

As is or is as done, or done to. Or to. Or.

I didn’t make it, and I don’t have any key, but it’s still mine.

while staring into ghost mind

Are you people? So then when, and how, and why?

Punk as “X” has done with that.

People still say things like, “There is a bright bird under all that.”

The animals here are much taller than we are.

in the scaled light of the fabled sun

abrasion functions as (con)text

and then that thing will / hold still and be science

In the dream, I’m being pushed around by the police. Really, anything I try to do, any effort I make, is immediately checked. These are men in military uniforms, heavily kitted out, a dangerous and violent militarized police force, and I don’t now clearly remember what any of my intentions actually are, or were – only that they are constantly being contained by these forceful heavies, who will allow nothing to pass.

At first, I interpreted the soldiers as an entirely negative, suppressive force. But it is also true that they are a defensive force. If their behavior in the dream did not appear defensive, the fact remains that such limits as restrict points of contact with the wider environment also protect these potentially vulnerable points against assault from the environment, and contain the behaviors that might otherwise invite destructive consequences. I’m not saying that it is best to live in this severely restricted way, only that such defenses have developed from out of actual conditions as the most sensible solution for those conditions, and therefore have a generous side to their nature, a benevolence, despite their appearance.

Bone meal.

And when in the forest, there comes a time, your eyes will unfocus, you will become less a person than a cloud, a diffusion of personlike tendencies, once pulled toward the semblance of coherence, now abandoned to drift in wind like so much mist.

The cops are going to spend you with these familiars.

And yet I find I have nothing to say.

I should've known

but I didn't

so I learned.

Refugees of the soul.

There are no more eyes.

xxOiii

Yes, of course he knew his own face. It was his dislocation from his face that made it look so strange to him; the way it, and the body too of course, carried on without him.

They say things like:

“I’ll get there in a New York minute.”

Or, (or):

“Welcome to the ice floe, stranger.”

I have found that, as a result of being human and existing, I sometimes want to [XXXXXX}.

It helps to remember things like how to walk in lines. And then you walk in lines.

“Some people are somewhat less prepared than others to weather the storms of the land of the dead.”

to the

I hold the macaroni in the palm of one hand, a single uncooked noodle, and have no idea what to do with it. I know it is for something. It must be for something. I know that people, with noodles, do something.

She said, “It isn’t far now.”

“You’re taking me to the quiet room.”

Eyebrows arched provocatively, “Not the quiet room, no. The sounding room. It’s just down the hall. You’ve never been in there?”

“I don’t… I don’t know… what… that…”

“Oh, it’s really interesting. I think you’ll like it, maybe even more than the chamber.”

“The chamber is where… I go for… quiet.”

“Yes. I know. And here is where you find ghosts. I don’t believe in them, myself, but you might. After you’ve seen a few.”

One finds sympathy for the Devil through becoming a goat. This is a gift.

Mostly also almost completely harmless.

The human eye may bend, but only bend.

In fact, in the dream, I was aware that I was taking an unusual route, though one only slightly variant from my “normal”. It did not however put me as far off course as the actual route would, but was itself deeply purposive, getting me to my objective – though what the objective was, was never explicitly clear.

It Follows After the Weather

The ammonium of birds.

“Vernal” was recorded shortly after the Spring Equinox of 2020, in the early days of quarantine, as the crowded hush of isolation was just settling in. Its pitch series is derived from a spectral analysis of the featured bell sound, and its two synthetic sources (digital sine and analog square waves), in addition to the organic bell, were subjected to various tape recording and resultant degradation processes, then mixed in the Wave Field Synthesis environment. Despite this somewhat analytical methodology, it still manages somehow to belong within the uncertain expectancy of this now long-extended liminal period, in which something – nobody knows what – is waiting to assume shape, during which the contents of mind are the only actual resources available (as they ever were). Perhaps that makes this a song about waiting; waiting for this New Creature, which emerges strangely from around the corner just turned.

I was in one of the polar regions, North or South, I’m not sure – though most likely the North, given the lack of any land mass. The ice here was largely melted, and any number of people were out on the water, like myself, in the now accommodatingly warm climate. The region, given how remote and normally inaccessible it is, seemed alarmingly crowded with pleasure-seekers in their boats. An important factor to both the atmosphere of the dream and the literal atmosphere in the dream was the “refractory index” – the degree to which the bright, direct sunlight was bent or refracted in the air, caught by the tiny ice crystals or bits of water vapor that hung about, especially when broken free and released. Floating on the water in an inner tube, I could see this effect especially clearly and close-up as the hull of a large icebreaking ship sped around the thinly ice-crusted waters, out of control. I was also the pilot this ship, simultaneously to being in the water and in its path, and therefore the one both responsible for its control while unable to control it.

More about the “refractory index” – this was an incredibly beautiful thing to see. The quality of light and color was sublime. The sunlight itself had an intense red within it, but this was only brought out in refraction: refraction through ice breaking, but also in the sparking of the ship’s hull as it scraped over and through the ice. There was this light like a laser light, and though it was very dangerous – the precursor of something terrible to come in the compromised quality of the atmosphere, almost certain to kill the entire human race, perhaps all life – it was unbelievably bright and simply incredible to see. Where this light was not direct, the refracted sunlight in water vapor, and somewhat also in the atmosphere itself, was rainbow-hued. Though this was deeply, sadly beautiful, and sublime in its detail, it was also inescapably the result of a global ecological sickness, and therefore a precursor of doom.

Now the icebreaking ship… It nearly ran me over: I could only helplessly watch it approach, fast over the surface, crushing through the crust of ice, burning this intensity of red, focused light at the point it broke through, getting ever closer and closer to where I floated. I was unable to do anything to avoid being run over by it, though I was also and at the same time somehow driving the ship. But it pulled to a stop just in time before it hit me. I had already anticipated how it would feel to be crushed and drowned in the cold water as the prow loomed over, and what I would see as the hull hit and killed me. But that did not quite happen; the boat came to a sudden stop just before the fatal moment. I was safe – and so were all the other vacationers out on the thawing waters in their small pleasure craft, here at the pole.

*The intensity of the “refractory index” was partly due to the low angle of the sunlight, as seen at the pole. Refractive index is more likely the correct term, given the property described in the dream, but the word that I awoke thinking was “refractory”, which refers to the human characteristic of obstinacy. But I often get words slightly wrong (that is, entirely wrong) this way. I don’t think the phrase was mentioned in the dream, but what immediately occurred to me as I awoke.

Q: Where is my soul?

A: You are one of the people whose soul is outside of themselves. That is very good. You get to be other people.

I decided to go mad, obsessed with this idea that I was slowly changing into a bird. There was nothing original about this idea – people have transformed into birds throughout history. And so for me to presume to do so now was only imitative, at best.

I think he didn’t want to fight with me over something so meaningless. I think he could see there was something wrong with me. I was mad as hell, furious even, and I’d not been starved half to death yet, like he had. People who are starved half to death don’t have much fight in them. Sure, they’ll crush your skull to get at a potato, but when it comes to stupid things like who gets to dig the trenches…

What a nice day. That was a nice day. I really liked that day.