eyescratch on Mon, 9 Sep 2002 05:26:43 +0200 (CEST)

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<nettime> this post whethers with time

disposal of ethics

rush. o.d. of mores, as the mind reaches out to aliens who remain the 
custodians of the earth, keeping the world in check. lightning 
strikes here, now there, as oil refineries burn to power our sense of 
the artificial. feng shui manipulation from above. in an effort to 
finally get off, planning committees sit in recess.

speaking in loaded terms, this position proposes giving in to the 
deeper urges. who is mapped unto the nameless masses, i.e. aliens, 
remains a mystery defined only by a stolen primal scream. stifled, 
the jettisons take control. the loss of the critical voice helps the 
mishmashed doe of culture rise, turning the roots up upon themselves.

no stone left upturned by ravage foraging pleads for revenge. 
communication protocols watershed in diversions unknown. we come to 
accept the cancer as it lunges forward and up with megalomania. the 
fact that it will blow up in its face does not deter the prey. seen 
appendages carry with them the personalized histories making memories 
cry out, coloring in the graphs for vapid ascension.

tugged at, toiled for, objects wander from fridge to counter-top in a 
never-ending cycle of attrition. the wisdom how-to novel spawns 
preemptive consumption, wandering verse. does software degrade with 
use? that would make it like a drug. to whom are we obstructing the 
second viewing? wake-ups occur like hiccups. the dollar a day recipe 
remains nebulous.

personality as ideology has been chasing its tail for quite some time 
now. characteristics seep out as little apps. the clash of security 
and creativity sanctions ghostly ambivalence toward the solution 
enabling the overall effect.

as we perform self-immolation, the fluff versus the attitude contest 
sniffs at us demanding a treat. hacking is figuring out which things 
work. making software run. gaining control for a brief instance. 
changing the content and then letting go. the thing about terrorism 
is that we are all guilty, walking stone-faced forward through the 

---> Guarenteed 100% garbage thoughts.

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