tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50893722011-04-21T21:04:33.446-07:00a company of vagabondsA society of fuguers dedicated to forging new and unexpected pathways through city and countryside alike.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comBlogger1251100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1157755590777298102006-09-08T15:46:00.000-07:002006-09-08T15:46:30.786-07:00"The images of surrealism are the iconography of inner space. Popularly regarded as a lurid manifestation of fantastic art concerned with states of dream and hallucination, surrealism is the first movement, in the words of Odilon Redon, to place ‘the logic of the visible at the service of the invisible’. This calculated submission to the impulses and fantasies of our inner lives to the rigours ofjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1157753489996559792006-09-08T15:10:00.000-07:002006-09-08T15:11:30.006-07:00"I believe in the power of the imagination to remake the world, to release the truth within us, to hold back the night, to transcend death, to charm motorways, to ingratiate ourselves with birds, to enlist the confidences of madmen.I believe in my own obsessions, in the beauty of the car crash, in the peace of the submerged forest, in the excitements of the deserted holiday beach, in the elegancejimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1153397530050738502006-07-20T05:10:00.000-07:002006-07-20T05:12:10.050-07:00. . . breathing harder.I found her nailing her breasts to the kitchen table. Calmly, I boiled an egg.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1153397143114919582006-07-20T04:49:00.000-07:002006-07-20T05:05:43.170-07:00DREAMING OF CTHULHU Placing a fresh blade in the scalpel I quickly slashed an opening in my forehead. Looking into the mirror I saw that above my gore-drenched face a new eye glared, unblinking, from the ragged opening. Experimentally I closed my eyes - yes I could still see! Except now I could see so much farther! My bedroom had all but disappeared, beyond its now ghostly walls stretched a luridjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1153066764941312152006-07-16T09:15:00.000-07:002006-07-16T09:19:24.950-07:00A cold sweat streamed from his forehead and his shoulders jerked spasmodically. "Beyond life there are" – his face grew ashen with terror – "things that I cannot distinguish. They move through angles. They have no bodies, and they move slowly through outrageous angles."The Hounds of Tindalos. Frank Belknap Longjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1151142033430928232006-06-24T02:40:00.000-07:002006-06-24T02:40:33.466-07:00But did it ever occur to you, my friend, that force and matter are simply the barriers to perception imposed by time and space? When one knows, as I do, that time and space are identical and that they are both deceptive because they are merely imperfect manifestations of a higher reality, one no longer seeks in the visible world for an explanation of the mystery and terror of being.Frank Belknap jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1150835260514380652006-06-20T13:13:00.000-07:002006-06-20T13:27:40.536-07:00"According to Levi-Strauss, the more complex the organisation of a society, the greater the quantity of entropy produced. The more elaborate a given structure, the more it will be marked by disintegration. Thus 'primitive' or 'cold' societies (whose functioning, according to Levi-Strauss, is something like that of a pendulum mechanism) produce very little entropy; while 'warm' societies (which jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1149364953871965622006-06-03T13:02:00.000-07:002006-06-03T13:02:33.883-07:00"The rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking, andthe passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passagethrough a series of thoughts. The creates an odd consonance betweeninternal and external passage, one that suggests that the mind is also a landscape of sorts and that walking is one way to traverse it.A new thought often seems like a feature of the landscape that wasjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1149361664043048452006-06-03T12:05:00.000-07:002006-06-03T12:07:44.053-07:00“The life of a region depends ultimately on its geologic substratum for this sets up a chain reaction which passes, determining their character, in turn through its streams and wells, its vegetation and the animal life that feeds on this, and finally through the type of human attracted to live there. In a profound sense also the structure of its rocks gives rise to the psychic life of the land: jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1149360057240559742006-06-03T11:40:00.000-07:002006-06-03T11:40:57.240-07:00For Colquhoun, automatism was not simply the adoption of a state of mind which suspended conscious control. Whilst disconnecting herself from her conscious self, she was also connecting herself with a larger whole. Colquhoun aimed to lay herself open to internal, unconscious, forces as well as external spiritual ones. Inspiration could come from any source, internal or external. All that was jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1149359916631481792006-06-03T11:37:00.000-07:002006-06-03T11:38:36.640-07:00An alchemist transforms materials; an artist transforms experiences. Both are, at once, part of yet detached from, the process. Colquhoun was particularly drawn to those moments where a change of state is occurring; the moment of transformation and metamorphosis. Moments such as these occur in the material world, the human world and the realm of the spirit.Richard Shillitoe on Ithell jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1147901513449370032006-05-17T14:19:00.000-07:002006-05-17T14:31:53.460-07:00"...I prefer, by far, real islands to imaginary islands, just as I prefer prime documents to novelistic remakes. Thats because the real is richer than the imagination. The real demands investigation and is an invitation to sensitive knowledge, whereas the imaginary is more often than not just a collection of stereotypes, a soup of cliches offering an infantile kind of satisfaction. Then a jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146665188641818462006-05-03T07:05:00.000-07:002006-05-03T07:06:28.650-07:00'The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace in a continual state of alarm (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing them with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.' Henry Louis Menckenjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146663697527879152006-05-03T06:38:00.000-07:002006-05-03T06:41:37.536-07:00'History would be so much simpler if you could just write it.Without ever having to let it happen.'Kenneth Rexroth from 'Another Early Morning Exercise' (1934/36)jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146661873001571872006-05-03T06:10:00.000-07:002006-05-03T06:11:13.013-07:00TRAVELERS IN EREWHON You open your Dress on the dusty Bed where no one Has slept for years An owl moans on the roof You say My dear my Dear In the smoky light of the old Oil lamp your shoulders Belly breasts buttocks Are all like peach blossoms Huge stars far away far apart Outside the cracked window pane Immense immortal animals Each one only an eye Watch You open your body No end to the night jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146657924065742032006-05-03T05:03:00.000-07:002006-05-03T05:05:24.076-07:00The Wind Howled Against the Window (Micropsia)The wind howled against the window and the building swayed. The pubs came out and people shouted and laughed for a while then just wind and bits of rain.Smell of old pillow and musty sheets. Warm and safe and wide awake. Creaking’s and groaning’s and distant clicking’s. Arguing voices and always wind and spitting rain and the world recedes. I’m jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146657290544617402006-05-03T04:53:00.000-07:002006-05-03T04:54:50.553-07:00Fucking Little DotsFucking little dots everywhere, I don’t know whyThere was this field right, it was fuckin’ endless, freshly ploughed and really difficult to get across, sometimes it hurt so much, lying out in back of the farm shitting kidney stones, my sister right, she used to come on to me all the time, the combine harvester, it really fucked me up what happened up in the back hill, the jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146653086873773742006-05-03T03:44:00.000-07:002006-05-03T03:44:46.876-07:00ARTISTS!Transform Yourselves intoLiving Philosophical Stones!(version)“These people [artists] have the appearance of being idealists, and show themselves capable of self-sacrifice. But on closer scrutiny they will be found to consider enhancement of their sensuous feeling of pleasure of prime importance. Many artistic natures, and those who devote themselves to scientific activity because it jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146652688696456212006-05-03T03:35:00.000-07:002006-05-03T03:38:08.696-07:00NOTES FROM THE SEA OF LEMONADEThere is the faint (but growing) possibility that some of us alive today will be able to extend our life spans exponentially. If the promise of nanotechnology is fulfilled we may all get to live forever, endlessly retuned by swarms of microscopic engines. What would this do to the creative impulse? Would it wither or blossom? I like to imagine that the wilder forms jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1146652432314475152006-05-03T03:26:00.000-07:002006-05-03T03:33:52.323-07:00"I was utterly alone with the sun and the earth. Lying down in the grass. I spoke in my soul to the earth, the sun , the air, and the distant sea far beyond sight. I went there every morning, I could not exactly define why... Later on I began to have daily pilgrimages to think these things. There was a feeling that I must go somewhere, and be alone... After the sensuous enjoyment always came the jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1145296653591330742006-04-17T10:40:00.000-07:002006-04-17T11:00:18.913-07:00NIGHTSTALKINGStalking in the city and suburbs, however, is not as demanding an art form as it is in the widerness or deep country. There is usually no need for camouflage . . . As in wilderness though we still follow the wisdom of the Heron, which teaches us how to hold our upper bodies, and of the cat or mountain lion, which teaches us how to touch softly with our feet. Stalking is always slow, jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1144266660180360202006-04-05T12:39:00.000-07:002006-04-05T12:51:00.193-07:00"I am commencing an undertaking, hitherto without precedent and which will never find an imitator. I desire to set before my fellows the likeness of a man in all the truth of nature, and that man is myself. Myself alone! I know the feelings of my heart, and I know men. I am not made like any of those I have seen. I venture to believe that I am not made like any of those who are in existence. If Ijimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1143832449276006512006-03-31T11:11:00.000-08:002006-03-31T11:14:09.293-08:00"The first task of the man who wants to be a poet is to study his own awareness of himself, in its entirety; he seeks out his soul, he inspects it, he tests it, he learns it. As soon as he knows it, he must cultivate it! . . . --But the problem is to make the soul into a monster, like the compachicos, you know? Think of a man grafting warts onto his face and growing them there.I say you have to jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1136294247656839682006-01-03T05:01:00.000-08:002006-01-03T05:17:27.666-08:00TUESDAY 3 JANUARY 2006Le Chat Noir. Borgergade. Copenhagen. Sitting here with too much coffee running around my system looking at Ray Johnson's wonderful stuff.Ray Johnson's BunnyThe bodyless Ray Johnson bunny is something like a genetic mutant mickey mouse engineered to be a rabbit, or visa versa. Johnson has claimed the cartoon tag to be personal self portraits varied by the daily mood changes jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1130943337225149862005-11-02T06:37:00.000-08:002005-11-02T06:55:37.236-08:00THE MOTH ENCLOSUREsome observations recorded in the vicinity of Huntly, Aberdeenshire:My new girlfriend confessed to a liking for' the rough stuff'.From my bedroom window I watched a large girl and a small boy attempting intercourse. There was an audible crack and the boy sank to the ground.I'd found a way to circumnavigate the town without touching the ground.In the last town people began to jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1130357533583695222005-10-26T13:11:00.000-07:002005-10-26T13:12:13.593-07:00BEATING THE BOUNDSReality is a cut-up We inhabit the world of dreams not just when we sleep. Perhaps as an unconscious defensive mechanism we elide what we see with snatches of random reverie. Trains of association are set off by a particular colour, or the cut of some ones suit or perhaps the way a particular person walks. The world is transformed by our minds into a blizzard of subliminal jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1130274179704936072005-10-25T13:57:00.000-07:002005-10-25T14:02:59.710-07:00MOTHS: SUGAR TRAPS AND WINE ROPESSugaring: half pint of beer or bottle of cheap red 1kg brown sugar/molasses sugar 0.5kg dark treaclesimmer for 5 minutes then cool. chuck in a jar. paint on likely spots i.e. postsWine ropes: immerse strips of cloth/rope in the solution and drape about the place.Happy Hunting!jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1129669811832138422005-10-18T14:09:00.000-07:002005-10-18T14:10:11.840-07:00 The RICH Economyby Robert Anton Wilson from The Illuminati Papers If there is one proposition which currently wins the assent of nearly everybody, it is that we need more jobs. "A cure for unemployment" is promised, or earnestly sought, by every Heavy Thinker from Jimmy Carter to the Communist Party USA, from Ronald Reagan to the head of the economics department at the local university, fromjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1129669637505239472005-10-18T14:06:00.000-07:002005-10-18T14:07:17.506-07:00Cunning-folk, who were also known as wise-women, wise-men, conjurors and wizards, were an integral part of English society right up until the early twentieth century. Over the centuries hundreds of thousands of people must have consulted them regarding a wide range of problems, but particularly those concerning affairs of the heart, theft, sickness and most important of all witchcraft. They were jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1129669298476456032005-10-18T14:01:00.000-07:002005-10-18T14:01:38.486-07:00Alexandra David was born in Paris, on the 24th of October 1868. As a child her favourite books were the science fiction fantasies of Jules Verne, and she promised herself one day to outdo the heroes of these stories. One of the first indications of this sense of adventure was her running away just before the family left to move to Brussels. Only after a widespread search was she caught by a jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126035018475134892005-09-06T12:29:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:30:18.476-07:00This essay is backwards. If you can be bothered start at the situationist bit and work your way back.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034759525844872005-09-06T12:25:00.001-07:002005-09-06T12:25:59.530-07:001 'Revolutionary Self-Theory - a beginners manual.' The Spectacle. U.S.A. 19752 mystic -al. Relating to mystery, the mysteries, or mysticism: mysterious: sacredly obscure or secret: involving a sacred or secret meaning hidden from the eyes of the ordinary person, only revealed to a spiritually enlightened mind: allegorical. Chambers English Dictionary. W & R Chambers Ltd. 19903 communism a jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034717790173162005-09-06T12:25:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:25:17.793-07:00CONCLUSION"The emergence of the State seems revolutionary in terms of la longue durée, but appears gradual in terms of human generations. The State emerges slowly, even hesitantly, and never without opposition."109In his essay, 'The Shamanic Trace'110 Peter Lamborn Wilson examines how the State managed to acquire such apparently limitless power. He uses the theories of anthropologist Pierre jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034681601834792005-09-06T12:24:00.001-07:002005-09-06T12:24:41.606-07:00PART TWOGUERRILLA ONTOLOGY AND THE POLITICS OF DISAPPEARANCEA Temporary Autonomous Zone"Our brand of anti-authoritarianism, however, thrives on baroque paradox; it favours states of consciousness, emotion and aesthetics over all petrified ideologies and dogma; it embraces multitudes and relishes contradictions."102If reaction always follows revolution and attempts at subversion are immediately jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034651533113882005-09-06T12:24:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:24:11.536-07:00A PHILOSOPHICAL EXCURSUSWhat is Subjectivity?"As the scientific rationality of Western Civilisation began to bear its full fruit, it became increasingly conscious of its psychical implications. The ego, which undertook the rational transformation of the human and natural environment revealed itself as an essentially aggressive, offensive subject, whose thoughts and actions were designed for jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034624436384312005-09-06T12:23:00.001-07:002005-09-06T12:23:44.443-07:00ANDRE BRETON AND THE HERMETIC TRADITION."The imagination is revolutionary or it is nothing...""81The history of the Surrealist82 Movement has been exhaustively documented elsewhere, therefore I will very briefly outline the basic tenets adhered to by the Surrealists and then go on to look in detail at Breton's shifting allegiances to revolutionary Communism in the form of the French Communist jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034593438990352005-09-06T12:23:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:23:13.440-07:00A MEMEOLOGICAL EXCURSUSOngs Hat: or the cultural dissemination of a 'magical' meme72"You are, each one, a priest. Just for yourself."73Very early on in the life of the internet (around 1978) a strange rumour began to circulate. A list of books known as the 'incunabula'74 was passed around which purported to be the residue of an experiment carried out clandestinely in the 'village' of Ongs Hat in jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034559543848112005-09-06T12:22:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:22:39.550-07:00THE BRETHREN OF THE FREE SPIRIT"The Middle-Ages were no more Christian than the late Eastern Bloc was communist."51Then, as now, political orthodoxy can be viewed as a thin skein of obfuscation, flummery and bullshit thrown over an untrammelled wilderness of both heresy and refusal. The Brethren of the Free Spirit was one of the more outre´ manifestations of religious and political dissent at jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034524677491422005-09-06T12:21:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:22:04.676-07:00SOME MILLENARIAN ANTECEDENTSHERETICS, MYSTICS AND ANTINOMIANS"Like the other phantasies which have gone to make up the revolutionary eschatology of Europe, egalitarian and communistic phantasies can be traced back to the ancient world. It was from the Greeks and Romans that medieval Europe inherited the notion of the 'State of Nature' as a state of affairs in which all men were equal in status jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034447418213852005-09-06T12:20:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:20:47.423-07:00The Situationist Project: A critique of everyday life'Le Internationale Situationniste' was born out of the theoretical writings of the young Karl Marx,17 the artistic and political fulminations of the Surrealists and the poetic urbanism of their immediate forebears the Lettriste Internationale.18"...the surrealists were wrong, says H. Lefebvre, to escape from everyday life into the surreal; the jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1126034370193987772005-09-06T12:18:00.000-07:002005-09-06T12:19:30.200-07:00Into the Mystic: A short introduction"An idea is something you have, an ideology is something that has you."5We have become 'de-centred subjects'. All the old certainties have been erased. All those pensioners you can see on the streets of Glasgow with fear in their eyes and in their bearing are not so much scared of violent crime (although they are of course6) as of the bewildering changes that jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1116274030703086882005-05-16T13:05:00.000-07:002005-05-16T13:07:10.706-07:00APOPHENIA: the spontaneous perception of connections and meaningfulness of unrelated phenomena.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1116272849348984372005-05-16T12:46:00.000-07:002005-05-16T12:47:29.353-07:00“The best thing for being sad,” replied Merlyn, beginning to puff and blow, “is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1115756491516984372005-05-10T21:20:00.000-07:002005-05-10T13:21:31.523-07:00Country Lanes & Travellers At an early hour on a fine morning of August we bid adieu to the city, and proceed, by way of Cathcart, towards Eaglesham. ..The luxuriant wheat, a perfect wall of bread, with the first faint russet tinge of autumn, is waving on the fertile fields, and contrastng sweetly with the fresher verdure of the oat and the silken awns of the bearded bere. The potato ridges are jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1115757036275342992005-05-10T13:27:00.000-07:002005-05-10T13:30:36.280-07:00"Climb aboard my ship," Sun Ra instructed teen-agers assembled in Oakland, California. Met with incredulity he persisted, "you're in chains now here, space is the place." For this artist, the map of the world as he saw it in the 1970s had no place called utopia. While extraordinary in every way, Sun Ra's is perhaps the purest and most profoundly motivated instance of what characterises the jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1115756714489365262005-05-10T13:22:00.000-07:002005-05-10T13:25:14.493-07:00In Walkscapes: Walking as an Aesthetic Practice - a study of theartistic practices of walking in the passage from Dada to Surrealism, Lettrism to Situationism, Minimalism to Land Art - Francesco Careri employs the metaphor of the sea to describe the transformed experience of the city realized by such experiments in human drift. «What the rovings of the artists discover», he suggests, «is a liquidjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1111785995966248392005-03-25T13:25:00.000-08:002005-03-25T13:26:35.966-08:00In our big cities where land is so valuable that an acre commonly brings millions of dollars, we have long been pinched for playgrounds, and Woodcraft pursuits seem out of the question. All the cry of overstocked cities is for light and space. And with all this need, we have long shut our eyes to most obvious and abundant supply.In New York, congested New York, for example, there are thousands ofjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1111785806970060772005-03-25T13:22:00.000-08:002005-03-25T13:23:26.970-08:00All cities are geological; you cannot take three steps without encountering ghosts bearing all the prestige of their legends. We move within a closed landscape whose landmarks constantly draw us toward the past. Certain shifting angles, certain receding perspectives, allow us to glimpse original conceptions of space, but this vision remains fragmentary. It must be sought in the magical locales ofjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1111785727719704452005-03-25T13:21:00.000-08:002005-03-25T13:22:07.736-08:00THE MAN OF THE CROWDby Edgar Allan Poe1840------------------------------------------------------------------------Ce grand malheur, de ne pouvoir etre seul.LA BRUYERE.IT WAS well said of a certain German book that "er lasst sich nicht lesen"–it does not permit itself to be read. There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1111785562771562432005-03-25T13:18:00.000-08:002005-03-25T13:19:22.773-08:00A Pudding Wand*Let there be Light and there was LightTo All and Sundry To whose knowledge these presents shall come.Let there be an Instrument with which to SplitBy Degree’sThe Holey of HoliesAnd bring forth:A Blood Pudding, anointed by His Concupiscent & Skittery Ichor.*The PuddingWand may be displayed beside the Pudding, or alternatively, it may be inserted into the Pudding. If using the jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1110896258410962842005-03-15T06:13:00.000-08:002005-03-15T06:17:38.413-08:00Bricoleur The flaneur is old hat and dependant on the male gaze; the street is alive differently now. I had always found the concept of the flaneur insubstantial. The notion of bricoleur is more rewarding. In 1973, Claude Lévi-Strauss introduced the notion of the bricoleur who appropriates pre-existing materials that are ready-to-hand. We use things to hand and improvise our lives, actions, jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1110894976182664982005-03-15T05:55:00.000-08:002005-03-15T05:56:16.193-08:00Upon his shoes must be written Tetragrammatonjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1109773617709682042005-03-02T06:21:00.000-08:002005-03-02T06:26:57.713-08:00When the Situationist International reinvigorated the old Lettrist technique of ‘psychogeography’ it is unlikely they could have imagined, or indeed approved of the developments now taking place around the world. Numerous artists, academics, ‘urban explorers’, political activists and scientists are in the process of redefining Guy Debord’s original definition of "the study of the precise laws andjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1109773146132583882005-03-02T06:16:00.000-08:002005-03-02T06:19:06.133-08:00“Here then is the pattern in my carpet, the sense of eternal mysteries, the eternal beauty hidden beneath the crust of common and commonplace things; hidden and yet burning and glowing continually if you care to look with purged eyes.”Arthur Machen ‘The London Adventure’ (1924)“The world is a cypher, he does best who hints most closely at the secret message latent in the signs exhibited to us.”jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1108326395414696062005-02-13T12:25:00.000-08:002005-02-13T12:26:35.416-08:00ADVENTURE PLAYGROUNDSAdventure Playgrounds emerged from movements in 1960s Europe that worked to reclaim derelict urban spaces, many caused by the devastation of World War II. Filled with trash and debris, the sites were considered unfit even for parking cars and were therefore abandoned by developers. However, children had no qualms about these forbidden sites, often playing happily in rubble jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1108325956836428462005-02-13T12:18:00.000-08:002005-02-13T12:19:16.870-08:00Dr. Johnson's Walking Staff.By Mark TullyWalking sticks or staffs were commonplace in the 18th century and were sometimes carried in place of a sidearm. The upper classes often had fancy sticks with heads decorated with ivory or gold -- sometimes these were even "loaded" with a lead weight in the end.1 Common folk also employed walking sticks, but rather than the fancy versions used by the upper jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1100727185352764282004-11-17T21:28:00.000-08:002004-11-17T13:33:05.353-08:00Vaughan caught the ground with his hands and stretched forward, wondering what he was to hear. At first there was nothing, and then a low and gentle noise came very softly from the Bowl, a faint sound, almost indescribable, but as if one held the tongue against the roof of the mouth and expelled the breath. He listened eagerly and presently the noise grew louder, and became a strident and jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1100726464102506042004-11-17T21:16:00.000-08:002004-11-17T13:21:04.103-08:00Nurse said there used to be lots of games like that some people knew of, and there was one by which people could be turned into anything you liked... And there was another very ancient game of dancing and winding and turning, by which you could take a person out of himself and hide him away as long as you liked, and his body went walking about quite empty, without any sense in it.
from 'The jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1099931705102817462004-11-08T16:29:00.000-08:002004-11-08T08:35:05.103-08:00The Rotting Landscape
While wandering down the back alleys of an abandoned building, arched by the sticky cobwebbed fingers of trees and briars I was suddenly struck by a peculiar sense of arousal. The odor of rotting dirt and wood had an almost animal smell, and it was then that I realized that there was sex all around me. Vines and branches penetrating the chinks in the masonry, The decrepit jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1098612595148726412004-10-24T11:05:00.000-07:002004-10-24T03:09:55.146-07:00Appropriately enough, in light of the preceding text, the recent Randomiser event was a no show. I suppose I was chancing it at 10.30 on a dreich Saturday morning? Did it matter that nothing happened? Were various people lying guiltily abed wondering what wxactly happens at these things, and if they were missing something interesting? Who knows.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1098612067825627442004-10-24T10:57:00.000-07:002004-10-24T03:01:07.826-07:00Mondo Mythopoesis
Stewart Home
It is incredibly difficult to summarise the bizarre developments that have taken place in what can be misrepresented as the ‘underground’ in recent years. The origins of the London Psychogeographical Association, Association Of Autonomous Astronauts and other even more bizarre groups, are now obscure. The same can be said about the arguments taking place on privatejimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1098004256798612272004-10-17T10:07:00.000-07:002004-10-17T02:10:56.800-07:00There is something servile in the habit of seeking after a law which we may obey. We may study the laws of matter at and for our convenience, but a successful life knows no law. It is an unfortunate discovery certainly, that of a law which binds us where we did not know before that we were bound. Live free, child of the mist—and with respect to knowledge we are all children of the mist. The man jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1097272393381211532004-10-08T22:51:00.000-07:002004-10-08T14:53:13.380-07:00Heron house (now, risibly, renamed ‘The Pinnacle’) was/is a New Brutalist behemoth sitting astride the Glasgow skyline like a giant discoloured monolith. Or alternatively, a grave marker for the kind of visionary utopian thinking now so resolutely unfashionable. Originally the Citizens Theatre was to be housed there, as well as bars and restaurants and an outdoor performance space (complete with jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1097271387307202632004-10-08T22:33:00.000-07:002004-10-08T14:36:27.306-07:00Gran Feudo, Navarra. 12.5%
Just got back from the CCA. 4 Icelandic women and their art. I'll go back later and look harder, but Bjork has a lot to answer for. There is a certain whimsy going on here. Goes all the way back to Siggurdur Gudmundsson and his playful conceptualism I think. (Who is excellent by the way. Although the later stuff seems a bit laboured, as if he began to get paranoid aboutjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1096659846716751382004-10-01T20:41:00.000-07:002004-10-01T12:44:06.716-07:00'It is a very strange place,' said Amberville, 'but I scarcely know how to convey the impression it made upon me. It will all sound so simple and ordinary. There is nothing but a sedgy meadow, surrounded on three sides by slopes of yellow pine. A dreary little stream flows in from the open end, to lose itself in a cul-de-sac of cat-tails and boggy ground. The stream, running slowly and more jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1096657819208640062004-10-01T19:48:00.000-07:002004-10-01T12:10:19.206-07:00orgono-tumuloccumulator. mons veneris. a giant moist vagina nestling in the hills of aberdeenshire. one day I went down a souterrain and crouched beneath the neolithic stonework wondering what the fuck those people thought they were doing. another time I stood in the lee of a triangulation point at the summit of 'the buck' and surveyed my domain as the R.A.F. played war games beneath my vantage jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1094566082866907142004-09-07T15:10:00.000-07:002004-09-07T07:08:02.873-07:00LUMSDEN, ABERDEENSHIRE
satellites pinging and tumbling overhead / the view from Tap O' Noth / alcoholics getting an extra £21 on their dole (according to the woman in the shop) / abandoned crofts / rich Belgians in the big house (Clova House) / gutted rabbits by the roadside / bad sculpture extra creamy gold top ice cream from Rizza's cafe (Huntly) / felt skulls in the sky (Stuart Gurden) / a jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1089032358304544682004-07-05T05:54:00.000-07:002004-07-05T05:59:18.303-07:00COPENHAGEN: rain / roskilde / bad bread / big swing / tiny swing / Nymosen / statens kunst muset / watching more and more rain pour from the sky / shivering sickness / bevar christiania / the high heels and bicycles combo still going strong / an infestation of Yogi's jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1086522705058892692004-06-06T04:50:00.000-07:002004-06-06T04:51:45.113-07:00WHAT IS PSYCHOGEOGRAPHY?
Psychogeography — as noted by Guy Debord, is a concept with "a rather pleasing vagueness".
In 1955, he defined it as "the study of the precise laws and specific effects of the geographical environment, consciously organized or not, on the emotions and behaviour of individuals ". [An introduction to a critique of urban geography, 1955]. This has been echoed much later byjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1084013968327790212004-05-08T03:58:00.000-07:002004-05-08T04:03:49.733-07:00When everything is ready in the space remove all clothes. Leave the space. Title: The Rapture.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1084013820426496062004-05-08T03:54:00.000-07:002004-05-08T04:01:21.856-07:00Literature is made at the boundary between self and the world and during the creative act this borderline softens, turns permeable and allows the world to flow into the artist and the artist to flow into the world.
Salman Rushdiejimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1084013669452315172004-05-08T03:52:00.000-07:002004-05-08T03:58:50.920-07:00In all my work I was attempting to erase the supposed boundary between dream life and waking life. Because what I do...is to pull out for scrutiny those images or ideas which are visual, visible, but are rendered invisible and therefore marginalised.
Susan Hillerjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1084013466016834712004-05-08T03:49:00.000-07:002004-05-08T03:55:27.530-07:00The most important thing is to believe in what you are doing, even if it is absurd. Most peoples rational consciousness prevents them from doing what they should have blind faith about.
Ed Ruscha 'Leave any information at the signal'jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1084013226199774152004-05-08T03:43:00.000-07:002004-05-08T03:51:27.763-07:00The initial concept for a project often emerges during a walk. As an artist, my position is akin to that of a passerby constantly trying to situate myself in a moving environment. My work is a succession of notes and guides...Each of my interventions is another fragment of the story I am inventing, of the city I am mapping.
Francis Alysjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080566222062162062004-03-29T05:03:00.000-08:002004-03-29T05:20:31.263-08:00SO-CALLED HIPPIES
Licking each other all over in a drug-fuelled orgy of lustful abandon! We are the hippies, come to bugger your dog and feed your children to each other! We like sex and we want to do it with YOU. Right now! We love drugs and we are going to make sure that you love them too. Whether you want to or not! There's nothing we won't do to mess with your heads and fuck with your jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080565348699340852004-03-29T05:00:00.000-08:002004-03-29T05:05:58.076-08:00It is curious to note to what extent memory is unfaithful, even for the most important periods of ones life. It is this, indeed, that explains the delightful fantasy of history.
Marcel Duchampjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080479178863110352004-03-28T05:01:00.000-08:002004-03-28T05:09:46.903-08:00PHILOSOPHICAL CLASSICS. Religion of Science Library No 46
On the Pleasures of Fiesta Magazine circa 1977, with particular reference to the epic public toilet scenario described in the 'Readers Wives' colum of issue 320 (vol 3) of that year, featuring 'Bob' from Dennistoun and his wife 'Sylvia', wherein 'Sylvia' entertains several off-duty policemen whilst 'Bob' looks encouragement from the jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080473787902154882004-03-28T03:35:00.000-08:002004-03-28T03:39:55.436-08:00Myths are necessary. We couldn't live together without stories to tell and listen to, without "heroes" whose example we can follow or reject. Our language, our memories, our imagination and our need of forming communities are the things that make us human beings, and the stories keep them all together. There is no way we can get rid of myths, and why the fuck should we? Instead of wasting our jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080471770927664842004-03-28T02:51:00.000-08:002004-03-28T03:33:52.233-08:00THE NEDDES TAKE OUT A PEELER
The bloodlust of our youngest citizens knows no bounds. On a nightly basis they will savagely attack any and all who stray into their territories. Often times they will dress as ladies of the evening to confuse the poor peelers, who at times find themselves running hither and thither, at once chasing young ladies , as seems, and of a sudden said 'ladies' throw of jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080470024193914832004-03-28T02:33:00.000-08:002004-03-28T03:34:35.763-08:00MYTHOPOESIS
This inquiry and pilgrimage to the soul of the city is deeply dependent on a view of the world that I call the mythopoetic, a term borrowed directly from the Greeks -- [muthopoiein, to relate a story : muthos, story + poiein, to make.] --and used by Robert Bly and consequently the men's movement here in America, and now popularized in numerous literary and critical essays. (For jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1080469838831389052004-03-28T02:29:00.000-08:002004-03-28T02:34:06.373-08:00SPIRIT OF PLACE
In architecture, urban design, and public art circles, we often refer to "genius loci" or "spirit of place" as a phenomenological concept which can be experienced more easily than described. I have often thought of it as "places as art." We all recognize that there are places either created or natural which embody a power and mystery evoking something deep inside. Christian jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1079275872618356352004-03-14T06:44:00.000-08:002004-03-14T06:54:21.670-08:00DOWSING THE MOLENDINAR
The Molendinar Burn once ran from Hogganfield Loch all the way to the River Clyde. On the way it coursed around the Necropolis, where St Kentigern brought the scourge of Christianity to the Good People of Scotland (as that place became known).
Nowadays the Burn is a sewer, which can be viewed at only a couple of places within the city. In deciding to follow it from where jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1073511689712974872004-01-07T13:28:00.000-08:002004-01-07T13:43:10.670-08:00COELACANTH ANTIQUARIAN BOOKS est. 2003 in Dennistoun, Glasgow.
Recommended titles:
Masonic Catholicism Unveiled Marie Lawrie
The Hordes of Hades
The Dennistoun Perambulator
Bygones Series: A Map of East Glasgow
St Kentigerns Tomb Marie Lawrie
Popular Studies in Folklore & Romance (5 volumes):
The Anseiratic Mysteries Lady Sarah Lowndes
The Dennistoun Working Capt William jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1068845998620512332003-11-14T13:27:00.000-08:002003-11-14T13:41:07.436-08:00Which films could be considered to be psychogeographical? (Films about the effect of the particularities of place on people)
'Walkabout' by Nicolas Roeg.
'Stalker' by Andrei Tarkovsky.
What about novels?
I'll continue to post them when I can think of any.
Any suggestions to: the_blackdrop@hotmail.com
jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1068845186466987662003-11-14T13:21:00.000-08:002003-11-14T13:26:55.560-08:00"We who speak with the sky, we, covered with dew, the mineral dancers feared by the nights, we the tamers of breezes, the charmers of birds, the guardians of silence."
Louis Aragon 'Paris Peasant'
"The world is seen from the window: roofs of grey oilcloth, chimneys like sensuous onlookers; studios dulled by dusty blinds."
Ditto 'Litterature'
jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1068047851406651962003-11-05T07:50:00.000-08:002003-11-05T07:57:48.060-08:00Me and Una (16 month old psychogeographer) took to the back lanes today. Mud and swallowed trees, a pile of around 50 empty tennents super lager (a cynical abuse of the addicted). A newspaper (daily record) from 1976 told us that popstar Gary Glitter was retiring for reasons unknown and that various VIP's are mired in a 'guards' vice scandal. Picking up handsome young soldiers being the jealouslyjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1067982000180497912003-11-04T13:39:00.000-08:002003-11-04T13:40:16.200-08:00A full report of the recent deambulation will appear soon.jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1067596000418099862003-10-31T02:23:00.000-08:002003-10-31T02:26:50.716-08:00PANOLEPSY: wherein a person in the woods is overcome with intense elation/fear i.e. possession by The Great God Pan. For my own personal experience of Pan go here:
http://www.forteantimes.com/happened/panic.shtmljimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1066473089470270652003-10-18T03:20:00.000-07:002003-10-18T03:31:29.370-07:00http://www.katearmstrong.com/preamble/index.html
I will be participating in the above through a simultaneous event here in Glasgow and in Vancouver. More details to come, but if anyone is interested . . . the_blackdrop@hotmail.com
I'm having to (dirty word alert) W**K at the moment so time is being squeezed into strange and unpleasant shapes.
Got a show coming in December at Market Gallery in jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1064240135852349832003-09-22T07:15:00.000-07:002003-09-22T07:15:35.880-07:00A Company of Vagabonds.
(purveyors of Vagabondage)
A society of fugeurs dedicated to forging new and unexpected pathways through city and countryside alike.
Freewheeling psychogeographers intent on uncovering the hidden, the forbidden, the derelict, the subterranean.
We will identify those spaces and places that have slid below the ken of planners, developers, councillors and others intentjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1063658378428908172003-09-15T12:33:00.000-07:002003-09-15T13:39:38.353-07:00A PERIPATETIC RANDOMISER.
Report:
Five of us met below the plaque commemorating Thomas DeQuincey. The Randomiser told us to 'ask for directions then follow them'. Ten minutes later we stood outside a police station. 'Follow someone for ten minutes' it said. We followed a large and overweight person into the Novhotel and on up to the Hunterian Suite. He asked us who we were trying to find. jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1063274123409183092003-09-11T02:54:00.000-07:002003-09-11T02:55:23.256-07:00Glasgow is riddled with tunnels, here are a few . . .
There's a good one running from Balcarres Avenue in Kelvindale right under the hill to Lismore Rd. It comes out under a pub just off Gt Western Rd that I cant remember the name of. Last time I tried it, it had been closed off. But these things have a way of opening right back up again (funny that).
An interesting one can be seen from jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1063273215598650852003-09-11T02:37:00.000-07:002003-09-11T02:40:15.500-07:00PSYCHOGEOGRAPHY
Psychogeography is now an idea that many more people will be familiar with than they were even five years ago. How do you feel about your involvement with it?
In its classic sense I don't think I had anything to do with it. But the whole term has been dusted down and reinvented and re-used by people like Stewart Home and The London Psychogeographical Association. There was a jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1063140962548960102003-09-09T13:56:00.000-07:002003-09-09T13:56:02.533-07:00TOWARDS SOUTH STREET September the 9th, 2003
Left the centre going parallel to the river. Endless light-industry, with hotel/leisure/lifestyle on the side.
Found myself in a vast warehouse space browsing through fire prevention equipment.
Acres of car park and swirling, grinding traffic later I found South St, a long long road, beginning with the cannibalised innards of the Meadowside jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1063055037083552912003-09-08T14:03:00.000-07:002003-09-08T14:08:09.493-07:00Compulsory attendance at the education mill, where the recieved theories and notions of the time are presented to the innocent as established facts, encourages such totally false impressions of the past, that it becomes hardly possible to understand the present or to foresee the future. With every approach to knowledge guarded by a formidable array of experts and bibliographies, the aspirant mustjimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1062497546107145422003-09-02T03:12:00.000-07:002003-09-02T03:12:26.120-07:00ATTENTION!
Unveiled . . . the Peripatetic Randomiser.
Meet outside Thompsons Coffee Shop (underneath the DeQuincy Plaque) on Renfield St.
SATURDAY 13th SEPTEMBER 10am for an assisted drift/deambulation.
ALL WELCOME. Sturdy footwear and an open mind are essential. jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1062098524886936032003-08-28T12:22:00.000-07:002003-08-28T12:22:04.890-07:00Those we like are tales of conflicts, woven at the handlooms of epos and mythopoesis, adopting the mechanisms, styles and manners of genre fiction, biopics, militant reports or so-called micro-history. Novels that process raw materials found in the gloomy zones of history, real stories told like fiction and vice versa. Recuperation of forgotten events, at the core or at the margins of which our jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1061984033246587022003-08-27T04:33:00.000-07:002003-08-27T04:33:53.190-07:00COMING SOON
THE EIGHTFOLD WAY: The Technological Application of Serendipitous Indeterminacy.
Colquhoun's Patented PERIPATETIC RANDOMISER for the Pleasurable Negation of Spectacular Space.
AND ALSO
Colquhoun's Patented EROTO-PRECIPITATOR for the Pleasurable Negation of Libidinal Tension.
Used in tandem they could constitute a revolutionary new take on 'Fucking in the Streets'! (see 'The jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1061845382079357462003-08-25T14:03:00.000-07:002003-08-25T14:03:02.040-07:00FAVOURITE PLACE
Rosneath Point.
Part of the attraction of Rosneath Point is in getting there. You take a train from Glasgow Central station to Gourock (30 minutes), jump on the ferry to Kilcreggan then hang a right. Keep walking (about a mile) until you reach a place of desolate pine tree's, shelving rock crashing into the sea and endless amounts of washed up stuff.
I found this wonderful jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089372.post-1061329497903017592003-08-19T14:44:00.000-07:002003-08-20T14:04:33.950-07:00THERE was a glow in the sky as if great furnace doors were opened.
But all the afternoon his eyes had looked on glamour; he had strayed in fairyland. The holidays were nearly done, and Lucian Taylor had gone out resolved to lose himself, to discover strange hills and prospects that he had never seen before. The air was still, breathless, exhausted after heavy rain, and the clouds looked as if jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02526821286427752936noreply@blogger.com