Leapdragon 2016 - Aron Hsiao Was Here

cloudy bitter love juice  §

We face climate disasterYuri”s NightMobile ChernobylHills Like White ElephantsInside HamasAlpha-Thujone (546-80-5)On A New List Of Categories–one giant evolution; one gargantuan organism from singularity to epochnone are reinventedall are reusedall are the basis for new constructioneveryone lives forevercode reuse! code reuse! “class organism {}” “class universe {}”history is not thought; history is matterthought is matter; matter is thought; both are energyrules are simply the lack of mastrygod does what he does because he cannot do otherwisegod did not reinvent the wheelwe did not reinevent the wheelwe are inept at extracting knowledge from matter, just as the programmersare; god is a programmer; god is ineptis knowledge extractable, or is the process irreversible?matter is the “waste” from the “combustion” of essencewhat can god do but follow the rules? His lack of mastry! The beauty ofthe “code” is rather incredible, but also precious, like hellgod as the tragic geniusinevitabilityhow did hegel know? how did plato know?einstein is in my monitor! what a concept!everyone understands, but doesn”t realize!is subconscious understanding merely a part of existence?life? death?”a little bit of him lives on in…”what about god?what about god?truth?–I had never been all the way to the edge of the lake before, but I had been told that the northeast shore was the most mercilessly bleak place on the face of the Earth. Standing there as the sun set, shivering, with the smell of salt and decay in my nostrils, I understood. The countless acres of black sand on every side seemed to squirm and shift, teeming with mosquito larvae in the fading light. The thick, cold shallows just in front of me stretched out forever into the lake itself; they were littered with dead gulls and pigeons, many of them partially submerged and covered in worms. Above, the sky took on a grim, colorless appearance and the freezing wind did little to alleviate the stench. Over the sound of invisible waves on the other side of the lake somewhere out of sight and over the low moan of the wind across the desert floor, I began to notice a steady rustling noise all around me. I squatted to look at the ground more closely and immediately stood up again, wiping my hands on my legs and shivering in disgust. Squinting in the last moments of remaining visibility, I could see eddies of dried, dead larvae bodies shifting endlessly above the surface of the writhing mud, carried by the breeze.–Maniac Sinatra. Maniac Sinatra.Maniac Sinatra.