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    Friday, August 21st, 2009
    7:57 pm
    I Killed a Girl Called Reality
    "...in London, “the so-called ‘Ring of Steel’ supports electronic surveillance systems and armed guards on every entry point into the financial district. Cars entering have their number plates read automatically. Stolen cars are detected within three seconds. And the potential for the facial-recognition of drivers, by linking automatically to digitised photographs on national licence records, exists in the system and has recently been tested.” This again raises the question of how unique the airport is in its “state of emergency” features. Only a few weeks ago it was announced that most of Britain’s train stations, for example, will be getting baggage scanning facilities similar to those found in airports. Is it the city, then, that is being airportised?"


    The Auto-Erotic Art of Pierre Molinier
    Thursday, January 29th, 2009
    4:54 pm
    New Online Surrealist Blog-Journal Seeks Submissions
    Oarystis is a new online blog-journal seeking to be an irregularly published hub of surrealist fiction. I realize that much surrealist texting blurs the boundaries between prose narrative and poetry. And I'm not interested in trying to present a firm defintion of what is surreal and what isn't. I'm just trying to create a little corner of cyberia to showcase non-verse formatted work that is of a surreal/irreal/absurd/bizarro/noise-text nature.

    If you think your work could be classified as such, and you want to showcase it here, please send all submissions in the body of an email to:

    radionihilist@hotmail.com


    The author retains all rights to their work.
    Friday, January 16th, 2009
    8:40 pm
    Satellite Variations, The Bending 77
    ...as ancient philosophy asks DNA nine centuries before.
    no parents at all. the full psychogenesis is only a wound against ocean blue,
    a mountain where predictions were free to lose their Zen.
    aesthetics or pistons, a creation orphaned by sly tongues, nothing to zero.
    east or west, the varicose machine switches names, clouds at random
    to striate the womb away. so we all have zig-zagging days and
    pores of green. simple patterns swell a watery permutation,
    a crest beneath what is tomorrow. blackened words for 'liminal.'
    Sunday, January 11th, 2009
    1:59 pm
    Monday, February 11th, 2008
    10:49 am
    10 Ways To Fight Fascism In 2008 code for reposting

    ----------------- Bulletin Message -----------------
    From: Brainsturbator Dot Com
    Date: 11/02/2008




    This is the best guide I can offer for proactive, prolonged, independent and effective resistance against the overwhelming direction towards greater warfare, poverty, and fascist control we see around the world in 2007.

    I was asked by a weirdo I have a lot of respect for to write on this specific subject. I want this article to be as useful as possible, so I'm just going to lay things on the table as quickly and as clearly as I can.

    Let's begin by shaking off bad language -- we tend to discuss politics using old metaphors, which are useless today and actually make understanding the problem more difficult. There is no Left and Right, there is no "inside the system" because none of us are "outside" of it, there is no change "from the bottom up" because there is no "top" to bring the change to.

    We find ourselves up against an entrenched power structure composed of a relatively very small group of wealthy elites. They seldom rule directly or even visibly, and maintain their power through building huge armed bureacracies who enforce power for them. The global power structure is a decentralized, constantly shifting network of organized crime and national control systems, representing many different races, nationalities, religious dogmas and cultures.

    However, there are common threads in all systems of social control: They do not have a sense of humor, they are bitterly opposed to Art, and they are unable to handle bizarre and confusing situations. These systems are built upon enforcing conformity, turning nature into consumer goods, and controlling information. These systems require enemies and they create criminals.

    Because of these common threads, these systems all have common weakness that we have the power to exploit to incredible effect. If you take nothing else away from this, please remember: you are exponentially more powerful than you think you are.

    The simplest summation of the overall strategy I propose is this:

    1. Destabilize Existing Structure

    2. Minimize Destructive Backlash

    3. Establish Robust Communication


    To this end, I propose 10 steps which form a conceptual toolkit. Perhaps that's a euphemism for "disorganized pile of shit," but I feel strongly that these are all relevant and useful:

    1. Practice is repetition is preparation is power.



    Can you win a fight? Can you control a situation enough to escape? Can you outrun police? I'm not saying you need to be able to knock someone out like Brad Pitt, but I am saying self-defense is a core life skill. Without it, you're not effective. I recommend Aikido and Tai Chi to all living humans, unconditionally.

    Establish meaningful and beneficial routines. Our culture is a constant pulse of imposed rhythms and rituals that we need to actively fight against to maintain clarity and effectiveness. Learning any skill set is amazingly simple: learn about it, then try it out until you get it. That iron-clad formula will guide you through anything, from juggling to fellatio to meditation.

    2. Create situations that cannot be controlled.



    I don't propose that because it's punk rock, but because I believe it's a solid strategy. Ideally, in any confrontation, you want control of the situation. However, we're talking about us, you and me as individuals, taking on the global power structure of Earth in 2007 for control of our planet. We are not in control of the situation, it is dumb to assume we could be. So go for the next best thing -- be totally unpredictable, escalate chaos and noise, and create a situation that nobody could possibly control.

    This is basically an unspoken bet with your opponent: "I am giving up control of this situation because I am faster, smarter and stronger than you." Embrace chaos and leverage chaos, because what cannot be predicted cannot be controlled. Only a lawyer would pretend otherwise.

    3. Do not allow yourself to be controlled by situations.



    What do you do if someone puts a loaded gun in your face? Sure, that's a heavy situation, but do you panic? I propose you remain calm and ask the human with the gun what they want. There is never any reason to panic. Self-assembling nanotech hunter-destroyer clusters swarming thousands of feet high, raining down human blood and internal organs, is still not a valid reason to panic. Panic is helpless idiot fear. In high stakes situations, you need to be calm and focused.

    Horrible and amazing things will happen in the next five years, but you're going to survive and maintain, just like humans always do. You yourself should make peace with death. I mean that honestly, not being sarcastic or macabre -- it's important for psychological health to keep your death in perspective. Avoiding it always leads to complications, and as I will discuss later, denial of death has been shown to make people more suggestible, afraid, and prone to violence.

    4. Seek information, avoid arguments.



    The only person responsible for getting you trustworthy information is you. This involves a great deal of work. Am I seriously advocating that you spend hours a day just sitting around learning stuff? Absolutely yes, I am. The wonderful Jennifer Bowen introduced me to the phrase "good company is kept discussing good ideas -- not people."

    The internet is insanely effective for rapidly accessing high volumes of high quality information. It's also a great way to spend four hours checking your email, watching porn, or getting into pointless arguments with total strangers. We all have egos, we all get pissed off occasionally, but don't do that online: get up immediately and use that anger to lift some free weights.

    5. Seek predictive models, avoid explanatory models.



    I propose that it's more important to have a general sense of what's coming up next, than to have a precise picture of what's going on now. The global power structure is not a monolithic, static object: it is constantly shifting, and while we focus on one tentacle, seven more will be taking advantage of our ignorance. An accurate history of this power structure is far less valuable than knowing how they operate, and what their assumptions are.

    Remember, we're living on the same planet. No amount of secret insider knowledge will spare you the consequences of catastrophic storms, toxic pollution, solar and lunar cycles, space weather radiation, etc. The global power structure has to respond and adapt to the world it claims to control, use the cycles of nature against them.

    This is a massive source of power that few activists seem to be aware of: for the past three centuries, governments, militaries and corporations have been waging a very literal War Against Nature, attempting to control what they cannot understand. Recent documents like the UK Ministry of Defense report "Global Trends 2007-2036" make it clear that those in power cannot predict the short-term consequences of worldwide toxic pollution. They are scrambling to prepare for a future crisis they cannot plan for. You can, though.

    6. Become an autonomous cell.



    Do you realize that most of what "intelligence analysts" do is just read through publicly available media and look for patterns? Are you familiar with the concept, technique and theory behind "asymmetric warfare?" What do you think military analysts mean when they predict a future of "constant low-intensity urban conflict?" Is it signifigant that the US government has a long track record of inflitrating, subverting and murdering counter-culture icons and revolutionary leaders?

    As Peter J. Carroll observed in Psybermagick: "In practice the power of any conspiracy rises and falls in inverse proportion to the power of its internal conspiracies. Mutual guilt and bribery mainly hold together conspiracies whose ideologies command insufficient loyalty, but this makes them vulnerable." Take advantage of your opponents paranoia, use their need for control against them.

    Autonomy also implies economic freedom, good health, and secure access to food. Shelter can of course be communal and improvised -- in many climates, shelter is barely nescessary most of the year. Although I'm essentially advocating that we take the Army recruiting slogan, "an army of one," further than they themselves ever will, I'm not avocating turning your back on anyone. I'm advocating that you work for your community, independently and perhaps invisibly.

    7. Don't be a dickhead, and love thy neighbor.



    It's the only rational approach to life: do your best to be nice. By doing so, you make life easier for those around you, you reduce physical stress that wears on your own body, and you will often find yourself reaping rewards at random. Some people call this "karma," other folks call this "emergent properties of complex networks."

    Be nice to your neighbors. Help them out for no reason, refuse to accept money for doing so. Partly because real charity is subversive these days. Also, in 2007, you do not want the cops called on you, period. You truly do the world a favor when you purge yourself of terms like "sheeple" and "the herd" -- I've also learned, through hilarious personal experience, that referring to taxpaying citizens as "slaves" will never work out for you.

    There is nothing wrong with being selfish, only being dumb. Dumb selfish people look for simple self-benefit, smart selfish people look for open-ended, mutually beneficial situations. If you can improve your community, you have also improved your personal power base and your chances for long-term success. That's not "public service," just science, math and common sense.

    8. Invest in tools and share them subversively.



    The old Industrial Revolution plan for social control was simple. Wealthy families owned all the "capital goods" -- the machines and factories that make consumer goods. So they used that power to hire poor people to work for them, in exchange for being able to purchase some of the "consumer goods" they themselves made. Things have changed a lot in 2007, because the line between capital and consumer goods has blurred almost completely. You can launch a record label with about $5000 and be pressing your own CDs, for instance.

    Technology is magick. I think that's become clear enough to just leave that as a statement. We now have the tools for invisibility, weather control, human cloning and burning entire cities to the ground with a single missile. We will soon have the tools for universal translation, undoing one of Jehovah's major curses as chronicled in Genesis 11. It's vitally important that us fringe weirdos get ahold of all these amazing future toys before they get turned into future weapons against us.

    Sharing is subversive. Communal access to important tools is subversive. Growth is a sign of a healthy economy, profit is a sign of a sick one. Break the profit cycle everywhere you can. Nobody will go pay for a service or tool when they can use an equally good one locally, for free. You would be amazed how low overhead can be when maintenance is your only expense. You would be amazed how well you can maintain tools and facilities if you're willing to put in work.

    9. Become a Beacon of Insane Hope



    Yeah, perhaps I'm reaching with this one, but I mean it emphatically. There is no shortage of people telling me how fucked I am, but I've spent the better part of a year tracking down people who are talking about solutions, comparing technique, and putting in work towards something better. I want to talk to people about seed bombs, quantum microdots, urban farming, water purification, anything that can improve reality, here and now.

    There's strong evidence that fear and anger are actively used as tools of manipulation and social control: the White House spent $1.6 billion dollars in 2006 on "public relations." This is a signal that needs to be counteracted, becacause based on psychology experiments, evoking the concept of death alters human perception. People become more dogmatic, nationalist and likely to support violence. This is based on the research of Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, and Tom Pyszczynski, and you can find more information searching for the phrase "Terror Management Theory."

    I am not advocating violence to any extent. Perhaps this is the strangest concept in my toolbag, but for what it's worth: violence is actually not your weapon. Sure, you can throw rocks at cops, shoot cops, and blow up police stations, but you're actually not accomplishing anything. In fact, you're doing Their Job for them, which is why undercover police officers around the world try to start riots at peaceful protests. Violence is not a weapon we can control, so it's not a weapon we should use, either.

    10. Please, be fearless.



    The stakes are beautifully high, the enemy is unbelievably strong, the fight looks completely hopeless. It's too perfect, it's ridiculous. How can we be bored on a planet as deliciously dangerous and insane as Earth? I can only conclude that my entire generation is living inside an open-ended video game that we've been training for since birth without even realizing it.

    So keep pushing, stay calm, eat healthy, seek novelty, breathe deeply, take risks, think slowly, move quickly, speak clearly, fight dirty, dream crazy and please, be fearless.

    If you'd like to contact me, feel free. I am friendly, honest and generous.

    Wednesday, July 4th, 2007
    8:59 am
    The StarFish Journal
    Okay, it looks like the issue of the mighty StarFish Journal I helped put together is pretty much live and ready to go!

    It features the work of some established voices like Andrew Lundwall and Carol Novack, some exciting work by up and comers like John Moore Williams and Luka HeronBone, and perhaps more importantly, there are a number of complete unknowns that we are excited to be bringing to you for the first time.

    Please, check it out.


    And, if you are interested, we are looking to link exchange with as many sites as possible, so if you are down with that, please drop me a line at:

    cosmiccommunist@hotmail.com
    Thursday, June 14th, 2007
    10:50 am
    File Under: Technology Sure Can Be Creepy!
    Thursday, June 7th, 2007
    2:29 pm
    Thursday, May 31st, 2007
    1:34 pm
    Hey folks, The Tactical Reality Dictionary is now online!
    Monday, May 28th, 2007
    1:46 pm
    Surrealist Writers--Call Out For Submissions!
    Call-out For Submissions!

    Ok, I'm going to be at the editorial helm for the next issue of the mighty StarFish Journal, an online surrealist joint that has been home to a lot of critical-paranoiac fun.

    If you are interested in submitting something textual for the upcoming issue, please send all submissions to:

    cosmiccommunist@hotmail.com
    Friday, May 18th, 2007
    1:32 pm
    Sunday: The Magik Markers
    Details are a bit sketchy at this point, but the mighty, mighty tactical assault unit disguised as a band, The Magik Markers are set to play The Tiger Bar (414 College) on Sunday.

    Give them a call to find out when at: 416-710-2453

    Via: Zoilus


    Bring ear-plugs!

    And, speaking of mighty...

    Thanks Rotten Meats!

    ****
    Tuesday, May 15th, 2007
    10:37 am
    9:55 am
    Wattage #9
    Adroitly, in amnesia
    full of colour. Lungs carve away at
    meaning with aimless levy.
    Brash winds rise on
    the breathe of your name.

    Technique glibly muscles tongues left ashore.

    Old men suddenly thrust their arms into ash.

    Torrents of agriculture, the habitual
    music of autumn's thigh forever in silhouette.

    The jackboot of astrology is universal,
    anonymous. It crisply shatters ubiquity in
    soft machine form. Every exit concealed by silver,
    impossible to imagine with wings.

    Taking the Brim
    Tuesday, May 8th, 2007
    12:46 pm
    Ideology
    Ideology: my tiny fierce masseuse says that given the concentration of power authority and wealth in incredibly limited agency, all else is unable to find expression, resulting in the wealth of disease, constraint, enjambment and futility. Ludicrous simulacra fill the void.And then passive aggression arrives to save the day. It is quite incredible to be smoking cigareete after cigarette, guzzling cup of coffee after cup of coffee, certain to die of it, but alive and doing it at the time.
    --John Barlow,

    who is, of course, not to be confused with the other John Barlow
    Sunday, May 6th, 2007
    3:09 pm
    "Personism: A Manifesto" by Frank O'Hara
    Everything is in the poems, but at the risk of sounding like the poor wealthy man's Allen Ginsberg I will write to you because I just heard that one of my fellow poets thinks that a poem of mine that can't be got at one reading is because I was confused too. Now, come on. I don't believe in god, so I don't have to make elaborately sounded structures. I hate Vachel Lindsay, always have; I don't even like rhythm, assonance, all that stuff. You just go on your nerve. If someone's chasing you down the street with a knife you just run, you don't turn around and shout, "Give it up! I was a track star for Mineola Prep."
    That's for the writing poems part. As for their reception, suppose you're in love and someone's mistreating (mal aime) you, you don't say "Hey, you can't hurt me this way, I care!" you just let the different bodies fall where they may, and they always do after a few months. But that's not why you fell in love in the first place, just to hang onto life, so you have to take your chances and try to avoid being logical. Pain always produces logic, which is very bad for you.
    I'm not saying that I don't have practically the most lofty ideas of anyone writing today, but what difference does that make? They're just ideas. I've stopped thinking and that's when refreshment arrives.
    But how can you really care if anybody gets it, or gets what it means, or if it improves them. Improves them for what? For death? Why hurry them along? Too many poets act like middle-aged mothers trying to get her kids to eat too much cooked meat, and potatoes with drippings (tears). I don't give a damn whether they eat or not. Forced feeding leads to excessive thinness (effete). Nobody should experience anything they don't need to, if they don't need poetry bully for them. I like the movies too. And after all, only Whitman and Crane and Williams, of the American poets, are better than the movies. As for measure and technical apparatus, that's just common sense: if you're going to buy a pair of pants you want them to be tight enough so everyone will want to go to bed with you. There's nothing metaphysical about it. Unless, of course, you flatter yourself into thinking that what you're experiencing is "yearning."
    Abstraction in poetry, which Allen [Ginsberg] recently commented on in It Is, is intriguing. I think it appears mostly in the minute particulars where decision is necessary. Abstraction (in poetry, not in painting) involves personal removal by the poet. For instance, the decision involved in the choice between "the nostalgia of the infinite" and "the nostalgia for the infinite" defines an attitude towards degree of abstraction. The nostalgia of the infinite representing the greater degree of abstraction, removal, and negative capability (as in Keats and Mallarme). Personism, a movement which I recently founded and which nobody knows about, interests me a great deal, being so totally opposed to this kind of abstract removal that is verging on a true abstraction for the first time, really, in the history of poetry. Personism is to Wallace Stevens what la poesie pure was to Beranger. Personism has nothing to do with philosophy, it's all art. It does not have to do with personality or intimacy, far from it! But to give you a vague idea, one of its minimal aspects is to address itself to one person (other than the poet himself), thus evoking overtones of love without destroying love's life-giving vulgarity, and sustaining the poet's feelings towards the poem while preventing love from distracting him into feeling about the person. That's part of Personism. It was founded by me after lunch with LeRoi Jones on August 27 1959, a day in which I was in love with someone (not Roi, by the way, a blond). I went back to work and wrote a poem for this person. While I was writing it I was realizing that if I wanted to I could use the telephone instead of writing the poem, and so Personism was born. It's a very exciting movement which will undoubtedly have lots of adherents. It puts the poem squarely between the poet and the person, Lucky Pierre style, and the poem is correspondingly gratified. The poem is at last between two persons instead of two pages. In all modesty, I confess that it may be the death of literature as we know it. While I have certain regrets, I am still glad I got there before Alain Robbe-Grillet did. Poetry being quicker and surer than prose, it is only just that poetry finish literature off. For a time people thought that Artaud was going to accomplish this, but actually, for all their magnificence, his polemical writings are not more outside literature than Bear Mountain is outside New York State. His relation is no more astounding than Dubuffet's to painting.
    What can we expect of Personism? (This is getting good, isn't it?) Everything, but we won't get it. It is too new, too vital a movement to promise anything. But it, like Africa, is on the way. The recent propagandists for technique on the one hand, and for content on the other, had better watch out.

    Via: Andrew Lundwall
    Friday, May 4th, 2007
    1:12 pm
    Follow Orders
    Drag the rainbow into the interrogation room.
    Use thumbscrews on clouds if necessary.
    Arrest the wind for being shiftless.
    Take a lake to headquarters for loitering.
    Sentence aspens to 30 years hard labour
    for having leaves that quiver.
    Turn rainforests into deserts.
    Put deserts behind bars because
    poets see worlds in a grain of sand.
    Accuse sanddunes of being drifters.
    Accuse snowdrifts of being drifters.
    Tell the birds to shut up and listen to your song.
    Cross-examine snowflakes till they break into tears.
    Accuse a leech of being a leech.
    Accuse a sponge of being a sponge.
    Accuse a yawn of being a yawn.
    Search milk-weed pods as suspicious characters.
    Hog-tie will-o-the-wisps,
    take them into custody.
    Tar and feather every inch of living soil
    that refuses to be covered with asphalt.
    Put Lake Michigan on the witness stand
    to testify against Lake Superior.
    Arraign the rain, indict the kite
    and prosecute the bandicoot.
    Charge lightning and thunder
    for practicing without a license.
    Charge the view from the skyscraper
    with making people look like ants.
    Warn autumn colors to stop rioting.
    Throw the rich odors of thawing earth in a dungeon.
    Frisk the shimmer of light on moonlit water.
    Search crotches of virgin timber for concealing drugs.
    Straightjacket elephants for jacking off with their nose.
    Make a bear paw the Bible to take oath.
    Ban the banana because
    it reminds you of something.
    Flog alpenglow with a rubber hose
    under a hundred-watt lightbulb.
    Slaughterhouse moonbeams.
    Summon the lemon, subpoena the peanut,
    impeach the peach, arraign the terrain.
    Order the space between the stars and
    the space between molecules to change place.
    Order turtles to get licence plates.
    Order sunflowers to pay their electric bills
    or the sun be disconnected.
    Order rats to join the rat race.
    Order orifice and artifice to be reversed.
    Order ripples of water, ripples of light.
    ripples of heat, ripples of shade
    to do your bidding.
    Order poems to close down and move to Mexico
    where they can get words to work
    for one-fifth what they're paid here.
    Millipedes must obey or be drawn and thousanded.
    Decapitate ecstatic tomfoolery.
    Give the finger to the wind
    for being fresh with you.
    Gesticulate before the bristlecone pine
    how you made more money than anyone.
    Brag to the Pleiades you played the stockmarket
    better than anyone.
    Tll your Death you're going to hold your breath
    till it grants your wish.
    Sentence leaf-shadows to the elctric chair
    for seducing millions of youths.
    Torture the Ocean till it talks,
    and none of this surf-sound mumbo-jumbo.
    Reduce to toothpicks the oldest biggest trees.
    Tame wildflowers and coat them with plastic
    and mount them on wire stems.
    Buy the water, buy the earth, buy the sky.
    Sell the water, sell the earth, sell the sky.
    Beat up the night 'cause it's black.
    Spit at the sun 'cause it's yellow.
    Massacre the dawm, it's red.
    Chart how many ants you can kill.
    Ambush waterfalls with machetes,
    mutilate them beyond recognition.
    Assassinate the last condor in your spare time.
    Assign hit-men to rub out hummingbirds
    while paring your nails.
    Assign hit-men to rub out dolphins
    while paring your nails.
    Step into your mile-long limousine
    snort a thousand dollars
    and tell the chauffeur-
    "Next universe, please."

    --Antler
    Thursday, May 3rd, 2007
    11:49 am
    This is a crucial blog!
    Sunday, April 29th, 2007
    3:39 pm
    I May Be in Huge Trouble. Please Watch My Back
    My name is Robert Chrysler. Iam a 39 year old male from Toronto, Canada. (Born November 21st, 1967 in Hamilton, Ontario to Judith Claudette Hendsbee).



    On Thursday April26th/Friday April 27th, I was coerced/kidnapped by a man wielding what he led me to believe was HIV-tainted blood into a horrifying night of fear and psychological torture. I was taken upstairs to an apartment on the south side of Queen St., just east of Bathurst, beside Suspect Video.



    The man who initially took me there gave his name as Mark (probably a fake). He is caucasian with light brown hair. He is of medium height with a very stocky, muscular build. He said at one point that he is 46-49 years old and that he did prison-time once for kidnapping/forcible confinement. He should be seen on video with me at the ATM machine at Spadina/Adelaide or Richmond (not sure of exact location) during early Friday morning when he "escorted" me there to get more money out of me from my bank account.



    When we first arrived at the apartment, there was a brown-skinned girl with a British accent already there. She went by the name "English" (probably also fake). She is apparently the kept girl-friend of the shop owner downstairs, who lets her use the place to turn tricks. We were soon joined by a brunette with long hair named "Dread" (although he has no dreadlocks as of this writing). He is someone I recognize as a regular at that corner (Bathurst and Queen), a known drug-addict. He looks Native American, but he said during the course of the evening that he really isn't, that he often pretends to be when he gets busted so he can go to Native Court.



    They made it very clear to me that I should buy crack-cocaine from them as they needed cash. Their demeanour went from friendly to threatening at various points during the night. I kept buying because I believed that if I didn't, they would beat me, or stick me with the needle, or both. They eventually got 400 dollars out of me before my ordeal ended.



    However, before I was allowed to go, a few things happened that have me frightened to death. Earlier in the night, before we got to the apartment, it came out during conversation that I work for Shoppers Drug Mart at Parliament and Queen. Basically, Dread and Mark wanted me to steal 1000 oxycotins from work. Mark told me that he was very well-connected in the world of crime and that if I didn't, he would "get me." Terrified, just hoping to get out of the situation alive, I agreed to the deal. I even played along that I wanted to do so because I needed the money in the hope of winning their trust and mercy. So, the deal was that I was to contact Mark the next day by cell-phone to recover 80 dollars he "borrowed" from me (he said that he could beat me to death and just take it anyway if that was what I wanted), as well as to confirm that I would steal 1000 oxycotins from work, meet him at The Coffee Time near my work and be paid 2000 dollars.



    The cellphone number he gave at first was: 647-236-4747. I took Friday off work and didn't phone him as agreed. When I went to work Saturday, though, I received the message that a "friend" had called Friday, said he was grateful for the "loan" and he would pay me back if I contacted him at: 647-341-3151. I arrived at work early, so that I could leave earlier than the time we were supposed to meet. I didn't call him at all, so I spent the night in fear at the Maxwell meighen Center on Sherbourne St. because he said he didn't need to see me to get me. He also said prison doesn't frighten him because he rules inside.



    Iam terrified of him and his connections.



    Moreover, I fear that during the night, I was exposed to tainted blood surreptitiously. At one point, I looked down at my left hand and noticed that a quantity of blod had gotten on it somehow. I was shocked and washed it in the sink without knowing how long it had been there. I suspect that I was manipulated into somehow placing my hand into it without noticing, or that I scraped my hand along blood left on the railing bannister without feeling it.



    This scares me a great deal, as I now suspect I was either deliberately infected, OR they were all somehow trying to set me up for a crime I didn't commit by planting what could possibly be evidence on me. Also, my fingerprints would be around the apartment, as I was allowed to move relatively freely, with the understanding that the door downstairs was locked, and even if I did get out, one of Mark's "soldiers" would get me. And there would be traces of my DNA from my hair, cigarette butts and the crack-pipe I smoked.



    Although Iam terrified, I feel reporting this to the public at large and the authorities is my only course of action. If anything terrible happens to me, I want for there to be some sort of record of my side of the story as to what really transpired that night for possible investigative leads to the truth.



    Iam asking those who know me, those who care what happens to me, to simply copy this text down and keep a record of it in case Iam no longer able to speak for myself.

    Please have my back in any way you can because Iam relatively isolated and alone in this.
    Thursday, April 26th, 2007
    1:07 pm
    In Case You Didn't Know...
    Rush Limbaugh is a certified asshole!
    Tuesday, April 24th, 2007
    2:49 pm
    Shameless self-promo time! Those lovelies over at Outsider Writers are currently featuring a few pieces of my work. Scroll down a bit and check out the guh by that weirdo, Robert Chrysler.

    Rubber Embryos Space Knots

    dynamo shamens this white.
    snatched from shatter. viral tresses hello.
    shaken for images of naked paradise. coughs stalled
    in tribal bridges of embryo.

    smoke curls the avenue.


    cells flying open a paradox. keys to dream as breath traced
    little by the larva of an old rubber silence.

    slower lesion circuits. murderous volleys trained to kiss.
    rhythm astronomies skin asleep in psychedelia. moats breast yourself.
    turning distraction up then down lunar walls of drift.


    moist with battle's seismic mercury. ghosts declare refraction.

    this howl's militia exceeds a question scraped from its own glory.
    devoid of bone. green plateaus a flicker ornamented by shameless molecular prayer.

    fixated on dialing a day in echo spent two boxes of silver nexus.

    an atmosphere crawls and taxies altitudes of melody losing their phylum.

    awash in the ease of alien fragrances. meteorites unfurled. superlatives interior

    in fifty miles of later. illusion saucers illusion as hieroglyphs impose

    fictional skies on upturned strokes of thirsting beamed to prey. sister the cliche
    trolling for periodic tropes in the ceiling. armour nods at bitter ecstasy.


    called waste into blacklisted veins.

    subhuman barks behind narrative's fading moon.

    beaten adrift that omens limbs deft with anarchy.

    an angel into spaced knots. labyrinthine bass piled to blitzkreig.

    inside trellis muscles.

    insurgency chants a womb at midnight's spire of frozen matter.


    tubas wearing constellated jazz.

    young loops slash at
    worn colours of accumulation.


    velour prone to mix with microscopes
    offering their tainted away.



    Introducing the Now

    in the grey.

    another embedded cigarette.

    investigator fatigues plop the non-verbal
    between filthy sheets. fly punches authority
    square in the jaw.

    your wondrous smiles the year in my direction.

    rusted eyes limbo a blonde hat
    just to foul the public washroom's mourning.

    not impressing the nubian long wearing radiation ears.
    epic next to chafed clicks. more hits than Muhammad Ali's crooked smile
    all for a good cause to stop like a robot has the hang of it.
    hips and lungs quiver at its waking.

    clouds of ecstasy caress your brain and always speak better for themselves.

    a yellow formaldehyde does it for me everytime I think
    about glory sopped from forgotten Beatniks. dialed memories of white
    poison fed my abortion out of the mix forever.

    the sky never dances in politics. droll bicycles lounge in the hypotenuse.

    is everything now?
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