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Hagar's Jewels

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You see before you a series of words,  Each word being pulled from the fire and  Then hammered like totemism into a new shape:  This was the author’s objective.  cl ngcl cn... (Nobody else has figured it out?) c kxtan dtx. gx. ngcl .gxs, ngcth .xmdl (How many billions of ants?) cn cl ;t vzlck, kx.t d,byx;mk (How many marks tallied the shoreline?)     Formed from letters, the words themselves could unlock the message,  And the goal was to trace the origin of language,  To find what existed in the beginning  Before it was conquered and commanded  And shaped into  immovable type and text. g;l ;tbxt, ,sl, jchvm,k ngcl xvn - /v,lncxt r;md (I saw a movie made by an amatuer) ;tbgx. ng, r;csr;t fvln ngm,. ; z;id;h, xu,m ng, j,ti, (How do you spell amatuer?  Keep them on their towes and mispell it!  You can't cast a mis-spell." ;tk c j,,s scd, c ;r hxcth nx kc,w   In fields they gathered the fragmented scraps of smelted iron  From among the archaeological artifacts in the Ancient Near

The High Priestess and the Hierophant

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The infinite monkeys open the door  And these words are here to find:    I  am aware even now.  g=01g/e  As shocking as it may be,  It's all electronic wizardry:  a high-tech graphic game that  y ou must learn how to play.  This is the call of duty, though banal:  Put on your white suit and  Soak up the horror's movie  As the secrets of the Bible are revealed.  This is the story of the stars  Told in part by Tarot cards  Where men cast out whores for dressing immodestly  While the dragon destroys our very city.  The men are deceived and their  Hats hang on the hook  When it's jihad on Homer,  Last seen in New York back in 1945.  The women beautify themselves  And nurse the sickly with fruits  That clean the blood.  They stand erect, full breasted  And posed in lines while  Their men pose for stately photographs.  The clocks no longer tell time,  But instead chronicle events and gather up data  To construct a new understanding  Of the meaning of time.  (Time is so passé and

The Week-End Library Issue of 1930

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The Week-End Library Issue of 1930 Legend Follow your NOSE to Pleasure Island or Be your own Beagle in THE WEEK-END PRESERVE  Note: If you lose the scent or catch a cold, follow the numbers instead  1. Montclaire: If life at times seems too binding let Somerset Maugham show you the value OF HUMAN BONDAGE  2. Roslyn: Chris Morley stays here WHERE THE BLUE BEGINS  3. Atlantic Ocean: YOUTH goes to sea with Joseph Conrad  4. Country Life Press: Here H.G. Wells warms up his TIME MACHINE to navigate you through the centuries  5. Helen Keller at home. She will tell you about Mark Twain & herself  6. Uncle Daniel Drew’s own story of HOW TO WORK UP A PANIC! He and Jay Gould & Jubilee Jim Fiske played bears in bulls’ clothing  7. Sleepyhollow: Edna Ferber & OLD MAN MINICK like East 56th Street  8. For a bizarre ½ hour Stephen Benet takes you to Carnegie Hall to see a symphony leader who conducts with his tail & becomes THE KING OF THE CATS  9. Francis Noyes Hart comes from

These Three Things

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Shut the f*ck up.  What?  Huh?  I said shut the f*ck up.  No.  That’s not how it goes.  So how does it go?  It goes  Yeah  Yeah…  She loves you…  Yeah yeah  Yeah.  Baby.  Baby.  Love me.  Love me.  Do Sugar t*ts  Love me  FRAME:  He balls his fist and swings it from up high. Like the descendent arc of a lunar orbit, He hammers it down onto her face.  She would have ducked, but  The knuckles split her lip and cracked the eye-tooth  Before she could even shudder to think How much money it would cost to get this fixed. She spat drizzled blood-lumps before even registering pain  As the radio played  Baby baby  Lover  I’m gonna  Love you  She loves you  Yeah  Yeah  Yeah  MEANWHILE: the dung-beetles carry these moments on heavy shoulders  And bring them deep down to them dead guys, that get burried  in those toons all...     She loves you.  And the Egyptian F*CK YOU mother f*cker  Smiles and says  F*CK YOU  And f*ck  You  You  You!  He swings back and hammers. Turn it up  Radio songs transmi

I follow a gold snake down into desert sand and stay in a place where a proud bird dances around me and fans me with a green aspirin leaf

A quantum search is entirely different  In that a list of possible outcomes is generated  Based on what actually exists  and  what doesn't exist;  That is, any outcome is presented as equally possible.  Now enter into this selection of possibilities  Statistics and probability--  "What is the likelihood of the search and all of the quantum possibilities"--  Then answer, "It is most likely correct..."  "Statistically we can figure this out."  And let us not forget the role of chaos!  Amid all of the randomness,  We can actually find two points to establish a pattern.  Perhaps not the right pattern,  But a pattern nonetheless.  To what extent might human beings be  Part of God's search engine?  Perhaps we spend our lives finding answers  To posed questions. We exist at birth and from there  Retain some semblance of consciousness  As we collect memories and experiences in this place. And in the end, do we return  From our quest with part of an answer?