%title Nothing of import. %date 2004-07-03 20:21:05 :diary:livejournal:fossils: I received a package today: Pharmako/dynamis came. Pharmako/gnosis is all that's left. ~
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Start from where you are. Saturnian verses, step zero. Let's try to get this right from the beginning. Fat chance. Writing versus research, a metaphor there. Which do you do? Some of both. That is surely the poison path. It's all about the dosage The research is the lunar medicine: visionary exploration and dreaming dreams. But the lunar medicine needs a substrate, a sounding board-- maybe a printing press, a green house, a micrometer, a phenethylamine backbone, a classroom of students. Something for the medicine to work upon: the substrate is the solar medicine. a stack of books debating like a council of citizens a council of citizens fermenting like a barrel of wine a barrel of wine dreaming like a rack of dresses a rack of dresses dangling like a toolbelt a toolbelt smiling like a scalpel a scalpel dropping like a line of hooks a line of hooks disappearing like a revolution a revolution breathing like a forest like a palette of colors, or a waiting laboratory, or maybe a kitchen, or just a pad of paper, an equation condensing like a poem, a poem listening like a guitar, a guitar resonating like a stack of books. ¡Basta! señor. As the man said. Enough. It is clear that the poison path has to do with a certain excess. Hyperbole: what is the alternative to dying a thousand deaths? Madness!