re-occurs hon

medical imaging technique detects and records human emotion, or, Fuck Friendship

Hamlet, William Shakespeare, Act I Scene V ll 106-109.

subject A (unaware of test):
Female, three months from her fiftieth birthday

subject B (aware of test):
Female, one month from her fifty-first birthday

Image taken at the exact moment a friendship of over twenty years is thrown away.

This device, still undergoing testing, produces extremely precise images of emotional biological states.
B purposely betrays, insults, and ridicules A, repeatedly, and irrevocably, in an effort not to honor a previous agreement to split sum of money that A and her partner, C, helped B to recover after B had been injured by persons not mentioned. The agreement having been made years earlier, B waits until, the work being done, the money assured, minutes before the award is announced, and then turns without warning into a vicious cunt. The imaging device that produced this picture was put into place that morning under pretext, producing the following results.

NOTE:
Two images were taken, of each of the subjects, but only one, that of A, was recoverable. It is shown below. It was discovered, when examining the results, that in the case of the second image the biological substrate was too degraded to provide any useful data.

Best viewed if right-clicked and viewed in another tab.
 

friendship, or, not this again

friendship, or, not this again, by a female faust

consummatum est (or, "...a mi madre") | a poem by a Faust

Consummatum Est

(...a mi madre)

May this -verse be neither ob- nor con- but, 'cross the uni-,  trans-;

A sword alike the Sonne, whose thorough penetrating fire,

to us two whom yet together trussed become as palms of Hands

that shadow dreaming memory the Moone reflects desire.

for behind all Love is Agency found secret, intertwined

far from distant landed gentle here by now a days' declared

to threaten promise both and each by each as some are minded

only with already having done that been and cared

like receivership Divine from which to benefit if needed

that because it is Divine gives no suspicion ground or reason

let not that language in which meaning must be clothéd to be heeded

be weaponized even as we find declared an open season

a palimpsest forensic revealing oft rescripted roles

words like the soul within us if they could ought not be sold

MEMENTO MORI

le pido a Dios pueda volverte a ver

Luisa Maria Romero-Ortiz

August 19, 1929

to July or August 2016.

Peace.

May evil be vanquished one day forever.

memorial service to be announced.

Sonnet: Because Nonetheless Now And So

As always with verse here, original, do not reproduce without attribution.



Comments, I have heard they happen.

Careful Feedback To A Fellow Blogger (Or, Perhaps A Sonnet)

A Sonnet To My Beloved, Legibly Reprinted

the original is here.

Upon Revisiting samy.pl, Or, What Someone's Girlfriend Thinks Of How They Met Samy Kamkar

Happy New Year, Samy.

Upon Revisiting http://samy.pl

or, What Someone's Girlfriend Thinks Of How They 'Met' Samy Kamkar

by a female faust, drafted this eighth of January, 2016

How fucking cool is Samy must needs be measured in surprise

again, anew, re-realizing -- which sets it quite apart

from all for whom (reputed) coolness does their cranium resize

because here with genius, purpose ethical: because this one has a heart.

...as any fool (not jealous) learns from briefest introduction

to Mr. Kamkar – to his work, that is – the magick of his code – 

I have heard some even go so far as to describe this as seduction,

for which they have but their own selves to blame, as they impatiently download.

More to the point, by which I forcéd am, such flattery to write:

not only because aforementioned, because these reasons do not fade;

the years have served his purposes to show much more less wrong than right,

upon such ground foundations of great Work indeed are laid.

In the end but exorcised futility, this rhyming bit of fluff:

for as long as Samy lives to code, it will never be enough.

Happy New Year, Samy.

If you read my poems, please consider leaving a comment.  

Comments are why I post.

Comments make me happy.

Thank you and -- 

Be seeing you.

A New Year's Celebratory Sonnet Dedicated To Some Hacker I Never Met

::ring ring::

::ring ring::

(over the loudspeaker)

"its 2016.  Samy kamkar, 
paging Samy Kamkar...
Samy Kamkar,
please step to the white courtesy phone...
oh and do have a happy new year, Mr. Kamkar...."

"Upon Revisiting http://samy.pl, Or, What..."

No Fantasy — a poem by a faust

title a nod to the Madwoman of Chaillot:

No Fantasy

or, what what is will have been seen to have been

always and me special even now life amazes

this most from the looks of it moment

the least of which singing in praise for the ages

though the everyday barely would comment

if such transience it into cognizance raises

although proper politeness would blush and demure

still glances perception search myriad ways as

it honest to honesty honestly were: 

seeing mine doubt of nothing 

out of you seeing me knowing 

out of each and both ours 

this perfection becoming 

out of darkness so still hours wrapped up in the cold

thankful again just to be here to feel sunlight and morning

may you and yours your Divinity bless 

answering meet and swiftly our gratitude

with beyond expectation's success

– over Evil the triumph of Good – 

over Evil the triumph – of Good – 

dedicated to yar

Solstice 2015 

by a female faust

People, Or, Why I Don't get Out Much (The Talk To The Hand Version)

"People, Or, Why I Don't get Out Much"
©1980 by a female faust.
Reproductions unauthorized without permission.
Credit where credit most assuredly due:  
"Talk to the Hand" image by aliee-s on Deviant Art. 

Be seeing you.

To Jeremiah Young, who died before we met, I think

 

to jeremiah, who died just before we met, i think

(a poem by a faust)

a friend of a friend 

upon whom did depend

all manner of things now set free

a few days ago through 

some people i know

wrote some words that managed to reach me

after he died, 

after he died --

between that moment and this one he died --

everything strange no doubt rearranged

but how could it be, to me

how is it this way for me?

that each separate word nevermore to be heard

as should be, said by him, properly

now only in silence 

in the mind of a stranger

speaks 

as soon enough mine will, 

for me.

Death sucks.
Be seeing you.

mikey likes the illuminati

i am so tired of the stupid illuminati-as-bad-guys disinfo bullshit.
it was tired when it was born, four hundred years ago.

its tired now.

only difference is that then, the fit though few cogniscenti
all thought it was too silly a flipmode to ever be believed.
Giordano Bruno warned us about the media.....

little chains of love that they bind around your minds.


so, ineffectually perhaps, i played with some equations
as i meditated on these things.

h/t to @ArtofeVan.

 

Be seeing you.

The Nervous Leader, a meme from a faust

badly photoshopped by yours truly.

For more info, read about the 'nervous leader' here.

Be seeing you.

voir not so dire | a work in progress

layout and content by a female faust

 

we wander we wonder forgotten

we were wrong, we tried, and we failed

but what if that was the thing that was rotten

what if judge, jury and jail

threw not the book but their hearts in

could they make you make yourself well,

if you did would you know you were real

Be seeing you.

Sonnet: To My Godmother

No reprint without permission.

Sonnet for my Godmother (perhaps unfinished)

Neither, itself, perfection impossible (proving me, perhaps, passably wise)

would this seem, to me, surely, were it meant for just any one --

this, that I am compelled, yet again, yet again! to revise --

no, nor, even half so literally incapable of being done.

Knowing this is no help at all, notwithstanding my knowing it well;

that and a phone call is calling you; who first proved to me someone could care,

could love without twisting that love to force or defraud or compel,

that love is in fact not about proof at all ;  love is about being there --

-- and about patience, and listening. These I learned, first, from you,

or rather, I thought I had learned, or perhaps should say "want" or "am still"

because learning this theory in practice would be a start at respect you are due

and to teaching my own godchildren, by example, love under will -- 

-------------------------------   and maybe, just maybe -- is it so much?

I would finally know how to get in touch.

People, Or Why I Don't Get Out Much | a poem by a faust

PEOPLE 

or why i don't get out much

by a female faust

this instantiation for xeni

they talk to me & 

wait

to see if i agree & smile

& if i play w/what they say

i know they'll stay  -- awhile

& when they go 

they'll never know that long ago

i learned (they think they share

(& think 

i care) when its 

their

words

returned)

Unless Our Spirit Wakes In Us We'll Drown: On This All Too Near But Most Unnecessary Apocalypse

Unless
Our Spirit
Wakes In Us
We'll Drown
(Or, On This All Too Near but Most Unnecessary Apocalypse)

by a female faust*


We all of us together living dream alone,¹
& when all is (almost) said, & some of it is done
stand, if we are lucky, on the shoulders of those peers
made expert by experiment, if not enough by years.


It's like that story with the garden, you know, the chick, the snake:
They struggle to sedate us;
We struggle to awake.


This 'They' is a neither unified nor organized assault,
is powerful, relentless, one-pointed to a fault.
Despite its seeming gentleness, we find tsunami² threatening:
So should we recognize the enemies
of dreamer, set, & setting.³..


...even if within our Selves. Especially. Could be that part deciding!⁴
(What?) (When?)(What if?) the question overpowers, our innocence confiding
as bright of eye & pointy tailed as government recruits
set up to be knocked down
by once trusted men in suits.


Where -- this metaphor... does not 'do justice,' is also where -- the Law...
ius, iura ⁵may be both, my Friend,
but in the end, l'Etat c'est Moi.⁶


So... 'let us go then, you & I,'⁷ indeed, this time to make a vow
as holy & as sacred as any we know how
as serious as if our hearts hung in some balance otherwise⁸
to do a little more each day to extirpate their lies.


If all of us (imagine!) at once withheld informed consent
TPTB⁹ would find their hands were forced --
most fully --
to relent --


...& ...not in empty word alone! ...although... so difficult a vision
hinges more upon our accuracy than it does upon precision:
for it must vanquish at long last the forces of stagnation,
of corporate indifference, of fascist machination,¹⁰


that in this foreboding pre-apocalypse seems to me sine qua non¹¹
of all the creeping evil that we, together, face
& all of us, right here, right now, must choose to carry on:
Must create anew this broken World
Must save the Human Race.


notes *originally dedicated to Dr. James Fadiman of Sofia University.

Joseph Conrad, "Heart of Darkness," (cinematized as "Apocalypse Now"), Marlow(!) "expresses this feeling en route to Kurtz," "We live as we dream, alone." Has haunted this faust. Read about it here; also worth grokking the interpretations of Gang of Four, here, and of Mr. Michael Stipe, in his introduction to this song.

See note 4.

see amazing footage from 3/11, Japan. It is cued for the moment the memory of which directly inspired this line -- but so fascinating, it is worth rewinding to see the whole thing. (... uh, rewinding?!)

As per Altered States' "...And I'm going to find the fucker", also Leary, and thus the Illuminatus! trilogy; Sufism....

Means both "justice" and "law" -- see here.

"The State, it is I." Attributed to Louis XIV of France; read more here.

first line of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot. Read it here.

see the Myth of Anubis, your Lawyer in the After-world, here.

"The Powers That Be" chat

line originally was "of corporate indifference, of negligence, of prejudice, of pride, of self serving short-sighted negligence, of force, of fraud, of will-full misuse, of hypocrisy, of abuse, of lies, of fascist machination......"

"without the which, nothing" [Latin]

thank you Darren Wilson for being the vehicle for the Ghost that did not and will never give or be given up upon

Be seeing you.

"hunc erit novum ordinem saeculorum"

First Church of the Last Human

lostkat found, or, to a friend whose mother may have learned something, or not

commemorating my having found out that a dear friend (after patience deserving praise, and, in the face of much bullshit, acting with a decorum that commands compassion and respect), at long last told her mother what she thought of her, a none too pleasant experience on her mother's part but one which i have no doubt was both accurate and richly deserved:

in video form, a poem.

This Remembers Until Delighted You

UPDATE
see
medical imaging technique detects and records human emotion, or, Fuck Friendship

& always remember to be wary 



or, The Righteous Unrelenting Delightful You*

click to enlarge

love

and also with you














*that as it turned out was a lying evil cunt

She Said Yes!

To what?  To an evening of Dark Delight, dancing and drinking and disporting....


the above was just as a screenshot.  the ascii art will not reproduce.

Be seeing you.  Some sooner than others!

JSUNPACK IS BACK: WOO-HOO! | a bit of verse in celebration

in  gratitude and celebration: 

Dedicated, of course, to those responsible for jeek.org, where you may find jsunpack, as well as links to the source thereof, which this green geek must confess she had not the wit either to reanimate or to compile correctly during its long absence of her beloved generic javascript checker.

Let my long held fondness be proven, should proof entertain and delight, by its appearance in my silly little firefox searchplugin:

and the tutorial I wrote for a friend to go with it.

 As usual, the text of this poem is appended cleverly in tiny one-point-sized text below (unless of course you have overridden that preference). 

Thanks again, jsunpack.jeek.org.

JSUNPACK IS BACK: WOO HOO!

A Bit Of Verse To Mark The Happy Day 

Just imagine: that yet unclicked link may be -- a disguise --

Sent securely, it's safe, surely -- certainly it seems

Uninfected by virulent malware, or suspicious prize.

Not reassuring.  Netizens wise, from such schemes,

Protect themselves and their browsing with one simple tool:

All before accounts are made empty, or inboxes full.

Credit be given where credit is due: 

Know what you click on before it knows you.

Be seeing you.