agonized prevalence with squealing asphyxiation

document 1

68 a

very interesting the quiet hum of noise in his head the clown typing not p0em with reasonable doubt of his fanciful faith balancing both together on a fulcrum of his mind’s eye of a needle in a haystack chance he may not be insane after all. but $$$ making the world go around around like ripples from a stone skipping across the surface of a pond in a garden of overflowing fulfillment. everything exists so long as it keeps moving like the whole of the universe moves ever outward in all directions and dimensions the scientist priests tell us now as the mystic masters had before them.

when is it ever not now? everything possible and impossible all at once and for all, beginning to end, and on beyond zebra. why is this even a question? becuz we’re all simpletons? that’s the easy answer, but nonetheless true enough.
but this is a simpleton’s theory of everything. what do we know? what we don’t know we imagine. but imagining means nothing when presented with the FACTS of reality. a reality that proves to be our delusions about it. but why? why should we perceive falsely? is it a trick? a trick of the gods? a trick of the adversary? a trick of ourselves?
we are born stupid. some of us wise up and suspect everything of not being exactly what it appears to be. is this the trial we go through toward enlightenment? is enlightenment ever really reached? how can it be reached if it is infinite? how can we ever be done, finished. it would be the finish of ourselves with nothing more to wonder, or something like that.


a little more to the left, now down, now up, now to the right.
the same questions with the same answers. what the fuck does the clown know about anything important or of any interest to anyone? he knows enough to have gained understanding such how it is that it is, and on and on.
we sing and dance.
we fall down.
we laugh.
all in a garden of earthly delights.
come on, it’s such a joy.
sometimes we just wanna puke all over everything.

some semblance of order. attention. get over it and get with it. they’re still watching him again. what do they expect to see? some dirty crime? they watch inside his head to observe what he is thinking for thoughtcrimes of which there are plenty as he awaits his baby’s return bringing him a cheeseburger and a vanilla shake.

some secret experiments in the kitchen to the tune of a pornographic lullaby sung out of key like the clown expects it to be.
he wonders what’s up. he wonders what’s down. he wonders what’s sideways.
is everybody happy?


many believe that nothing precedes everything. does it? how? why? becuz? we wonder how everything comes from nothing which we still have yet to answer. an egg laid by a purple silver dragon.
everything perhaps continuing from forever in the past, which does not exist here now anymore. funny how that happens.
all that exists exists here now as we observe it existing. these thoughts tickle the clown’s simple brain. does nothing exist? has it ever existed? can nothing and everything coexist?

if nothing is off – 0, and everything is on – 1, then it could be that nothing and everything exist together as complimentary opposites, like yin yang.
the clown has always thought since taking lithography classes at community college of everything as infinitesimal spherical halftone dots too small to be perceived but adding up into all we do perceive. these would be the so-called particles.
the clown believes everything in the universe is traveling at the velocity of light which would make it a singularity.

particles flash on/off (0/1 – yin/yang) making the appearance of motion while they remain motionless. what we see is what we get.
this is simple enough that an idiot can understand it – though not necessarily. an idiot who has read a number of books and gone to a number of university courses until the $$$ runs out and the idiot must stop, but never stop thinking. it may take the idiot a lifetime to sort everything out.

freak out, baby. everything you know is wrong.
good luck.


part 6 –
now that we’ve been through all that, the clown places a potato in the oven for his baby. he goes back to his studio and eats oreos.
his studio is a mess of stuff. aren’t most studios? if it’s not a mess probably cuz nothing’s happening. whatever.
we do not seek nothing as some others seem to believe. we find nothing amongst everything else. but it is not the total of everything except under certain perspective conditions of mind. even then it is no more than a puff of smoke easily blown away. the clown has a toke and cigarette. smoke it if ya got it.

is nothing necessarily dark? we don’t imagine why it should be. it would have to be an absence of darkness as well as absence of light. imagine that. it is nothing, no-thing. not anything whatsoever. even absence is absent.
and all such foolishness.
but the clown doesn’t think these types of things to necessarily solve or prove anything or whatever other reason there might be. he thinks them cuz they’re fun and challenging to think about, stretching the mind as far as it goes, which for him may not be that far. oh well. prey for him.

is nothing unstable, as one of the wise guys had stated once? in one way the clown thinks yes, another way he thinks no, but the correct answer could be maybe. but why does any answer have to be correct? is that some sorta rule or something? it probably is logically, but with reasonable doubt for sure.

is maybe a valid answer, conclusion? let the arguments commence. blah blah blah, therefore, blah blah blah.
somebody wins, the rest are all losers. what a fun game to play. only it’s not a game, it’s life. fuck it.

75 yay bob

he yawns. there may be a nap coming up. or not. he goes to check on the potato. and he thinks, everything could be a potato’s dream. wouldn’t that be a trip? imagine what some people would think if that was revealed to the public, which it probably wouldn’t be. our masters have their need for secrets none of us are supposed to even know that they are even secret, or even suspect they might be. what secret?
the secret of the monkey’s paw.

then suddenly the clown is whisked away to some undisclosed location in his mind to await further orders, if there are to be any.




not p0em – x91 –

x91 –


well that’s just special, ain’t it? there’s no way of knowing everything about it but it’s ok, baby. long may we wave forever on and off as we will. gazorbnik. peoples dancing all the fuck all over the place like it’s the end of the world or something. hooray for us.

a truckload of beer driving by. partytime for the regular folk, eh? the clown sitting at the counter at the diner continuing typing not p0em as usual as he does whenever he can as it may be as it will. he can only go along with it riding the waves. surf’s up.

then as nothing in particular is happening as much as he can tell he ventures forth with whatever. he has an open approach to most everything that he is aware of which isn’t too much. but that’s that about that. so it goes. it’s our last day in heaven before we’re sent back to a desolate earth. the gods are not cruel except as it may be perceived by those who do not necessarily understand what the fuck with a duck. nevermind.

the clown fantasizes everything under the sun all throughout his simple life of being an idiot as he has been instructed by the voices. there ain’t no cure for the summertime blues. and it’s all good with a dash of evil for spice. whoever thought of such a thing as this? what is it? the clown don’t know. he’s in the dark about it as he is about most everything. he don’t care much about that, he’s not supposed to. he proceeds according to the master plan of the project’s design for 1000s of years and counting. we improvise as we will and/or need to along the way on pathless paths toward some arbitrary destination wedding ourselves to infinity and beyond all that jazz that comes our way oink.

feeling lightheaded he turns on his oxygen. people probably looking for meaning when the clown is unsure whether there is any or not. but that is small potatoes indeed. positively nowhere, baby.

yes, we know by now about the danger involved which excuses our incompetence for the time being maybe or not. we celebrate the difference between everything and nothing as it will be. how about that?

the feeling we feel which may be fake and delusional lead us over the edge of this mundane reality bringing us toward new understanding of the self erupting in our heads bent sideways from our conditional existence upon this rock either spinning or standing still we don’t care much longer than a moment before new thoughts come to mind. it’s all relative.

o’ lord, show us the way from the hell you have created for us after we were banished from heaven on earth. we know we are evil becuz you have so many times told us we are so that we have become deaf. we do as we please, though we often find ourselves in deep shit of trouble against one another as it turns out.

that’s the news of the day. everyone attack. this is what we’ve been waiting for all this long while. we weep and moan and gnash our teeth. that is the part we are to play to make the whole cosmic scheme work for the others who believe they are saved – haha. if it is truly a just god then they are in for a surprise, or maybe not.

but we each have our sense of what is justice. it’s just one more thing we refuse to agree on. whoopie. and maybe we’re not here to come to any agreement about anything. we fight over our personal opinion to amuse and please the gods in their drunken stupid stupor.

the clown thinks about how he would not be a god for anything. what a dull existence they lead for eternity. yet we envy them without thinking. and they feed on that envy like vampires on living blood. it’s much the same, more than a metaphor. the gods suck and feed on our energy. but they are more powerful than us so we are forced to submit. without that power we would kill them all. o’ for that day to come. will it ever?

giphy (7)

and the clown comes home from the diner. he begins where he left off writing not p0em easy as he pleases for no one, just himself and all the angels and demons in his head. it gets crowded with their constant bickering. he wishes they’d finally settle down and agree to disagree, or something. why they chose him to sort things out among themselves he cannot imagine why, or why not. do they think it’s easy to be a clown? does anyone? only the foolish and unknowing among us.

us is definitely not them. them is desperately us. we are them. true or not, there it is, a fundamentalistic building block of our theory of everything which itself may or may not be true/false. do you understand? probably not. we’re not sure we do either. but that is not relevant.

there is true and there is false. these can be logically proven – sorta. they can also be intuitively proven, or not. these types of thoughts belong to the mentally ill among us. the clown is relieved he is not one, though many believe he is. however he still is mad, which is a horse of a different color – the difference between a psychiatrist and a gypsy queen – and between pills and potions.

it’s all bust. there is no way outta here. we followed the yellow brick road as far as it goes, down and out on easy street scrounging up $$$ to attend the burning theater to experience the show. (i experience, therefore i am). does a rock experience? very long nearly nonexistent thought and feelings. is that experience? an amoeba experiencing. a particle, which may or may not be true or false. what is it? where is it? when? it’s all waves, baby. chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. the clown chose his death as a child having a dream of his future. yes, he spake, that’s the one.

fuck you too.
now the present scope of not p0em is limitless in theory – our theory of everything we are conducting with 1000s of others on similar missions from dolts to geniuses, everybody’s got an axe to grind. praise gazorbnik, it’s our only hope.

the problem with true/false is that it is arbitrary, whereas the believers consider it absolute, the way they have it figured. any rationale can be used to prove it. however it’s all belief, believing we know truth above all. what a joke. we laugh at these fools, especially when they march off to war against one another cuz they cannot tolerate anything different than their own faith. the clown sighs.

giphy (8)

another day – awakening.
do we realize anything? fuck if we do, fuck if we don’t. it’s the same to us as it is different for everyone else. come on now, peoples – think goddamn it. just don’t believe everything your masters tell you without question. but what’s the use? everyone deaf, dumb, and blind. it’s amazing once we realize that and see them all groping in the dark unable to speak of anything but babble and never hearing anything different from what they believe. it’s fucking frustrating, but that’s how it is, baby.

chains of thought, thoughts like chains wrapped around our brain. no wonder we cannot think “outside the box”. haha.
it’s a scary proposition to achieve that sort of freedom. is anybody ready for it? we doubt it. what is one left with beyond nothing but infinity? is that enough? give us some more. give us a taste of sweet love for everyone. it’s a joke, right? tell us it’s not true, we will believe anything not to face that darkness that is invisible light cuz there’s nothing to reflect it. we are spirit.

more coffee, another toke, another cigarette. ready to go. the clown slept most of the day away while everyone in the house was gone elsewhere.
everything is garbage as far as the eye can see. all we produce is garbage that no longer returns to the earth but pollutes it. we and our grand civilizations that have taken over the world. can anything stop us? perhaps the much rumored vengeful god? we shall see.
but it’s been a set up all along. and we were stupid enough to fall for it. and now that we have lost our way we try to get back, but there is no return to innocence. even our children are guilty.

the clown recognizes this and feels no regret. he probably couldn’t exist in any other time either past or future. he is a 21st century schizoid man. nothing he’s got he really needs. tough shit, baby.
and all will be lost when he is no longer here as perhaps it should be. who wants to be reminded of him and his madness? too much trouble. too confusing. the others refusing to understand, as if there is anything to understand. it’s just life and life only – just existence.

someone said someone else said politics confusing the issue till our heads spin. that’s the game. the only game in the company town. the worldwide company town, baby. don’t you doubt it. just pay attention to what we tell ya and you can’t go wrong. and you can’t go right. it becomes a fright to behold and it won’t let you go. whoa, honey boy. let’s get our kicks.

a dismal portrayal of life and existence, and reality. it’s not up to us. we feel accomplished to get outta bed much of the time. haha, what a sight we have become. too funny. find the light from the cracks in the ancient wall. the dam’s about to burst wide apart and flood the world with magick – S.P.L.I.T.. just you wait and see.
but how can this be?. some sort of crazy idiosyncrasy to come among us bonding us together despite our differences in ways of living for ourselves – a critical mass of madness that even those who abhor it still fall in love regardless their stubborn resistance to reason expressed as dystopian thoughtcrime achieved through telepathic mind shift/ship thing from brazil of all places, but that’s where it’s at, you know? – dreamers dreaming a dream become reality.

and it’s always a good morning when if we choose to perceive it believingly to experience the gazorbnik of it. everything passes by the clown typing not p0em for the faithful possessed of mighty spirits always surrounding us within. within what? what circumferences bind us? how come? where we do we end and everything else begins. it is it, and all like that.

and then he’s tired, and he sleeps.



document 3

document 3



coffee’s on. pumpkin pie. the clown goes out for supplies, then home for a toke and cigarette and pistachios.
onward with typing not p0em right after a nap.

continuing not p0em the clown farts as it pleases him so to do. this is one of the time periods he is scheduled to experience melancholy sorrow which he enjoys the emotional depths of it and the foreboding devoid of meaning. if bliss is contentment then he is blissful, he is contented as a sacred cow. what joy.

what joy? the joy of sorrow? let us not be absurd for this surely does not stand up to reason. then reason be damned. it is unable to fulfill us to the extent we desire and politely demand, not like the dark regions of these overcoming moods we feel without thinking, dancing with the winds and the still calm moon and rapidly moving silver clouds – rapidly moving for being clouds, if we can trust our senses which we sometimes doubt.

but if all is illusion, what of it? if we all are being deluded, what of that? and we probably are, when we are considering our position and status in this scam scheme. why should we expect we are not being manipulated?
the clown’s only objection is not that it could not be done, but that doing it seems to be a lot of work for such little gain. a planetful of metals and minerals and such stolen from the earth with our slave labor. oh boy, what fun. the clown laughs with glee. he managed to avoid the brunt of that, though he was among the lowest of the low, digging holes for a living, work many could not endure cuz they’re important people going places.

another toke after dinner. a vanilla cream soda, a cigarette, and coffee – dyn-o-mite. a babble of indistinct voices on the tv in the other room. it’s all fake, on all sides.
it’s all what one expects that brings us disappointment, and la-dee-da-ding-doo.

images (5)

don’t connect the dots, the dots connect themselves – guru jeff.

our mission is clear. destroy the world by any means possible and appropriate to the name of the cause ($$$) which forever will be a secret to ourselves. why not? becuz. the clown has this dream when there’s an actual monkey on his back. finally after sweetly talking to it so it would calm down he woke up thinking maybe it was a demon of some sort pestering him. but why should he think that? it’s not true, he doesn’t think. it was probably a friendly monster playing with him for some reason. it could be anything. a dead goat for our pleasure.


a couple days later –
awakening before the butt crack of dawn. 1st he’s been  up this early in a while it seems. everything is as it seems, as it appears. can we be certain of any of it even when it seems to follow rules and logic of physics? what is it that is following the rules and logic? what is its substance, its composition? do we know, or do we theorize?
and it’s easy to claim it’s all god, but that explains nothing. we don’t know god any more than we know the universe.

a few days later –
one eye open, one eye closed. flip a randomly selected switch, on/off. is it nothing more than that? it is it.
people being left to die. social darwinism at its best.
the aroma of fear. everybody in line for the underworld.

our physical selves slough off as we are born in death the wise guys tell us. the clown is not concerned about that except as a puzzle he works out in his head along with all the other puzzles. puzzles needing no correct answers, just to spin themselves silly tickling his brain. he laughs to himself delighted as he becomes. he is humble before a god with no name. but there is no god. that’s the trick we must learn, being and not being. all the trouble we must go through toward enlightenment which is not something gained but something sought.


now for some pumpkin pie.
and it’s medication time.
the simplistic ways other people think of everything, if they think of everything at all which most don’t seem to. if he tries to talk with any of them he gets a blank look of incomprehension. they walk away thinking they’ve been talking with a crazy person, which they have been – a person crazy in love as it goes. or an idiot, which is also true.

a toke. the time of his life dreaming of whatnot. it’s so easy to do and never come back. what is there to come back to? a world being destroyed? it’s an interesting process to observe. destruction and creation in one act much to our surprise to discover for ourselves. the words of the ancients ringing in our ears if we know how to listen and who or what to listen to. it becomes obvious after a while. patience, child. it may take a lifetime of confusion between this and that and the other thing of which is right or wrong. all is the correct answer, but not immediately apparent. let your eye be open and take a good long look around. a long look that may take years or even decades to reveal what turns out to be the simplest thing ever.

and what other way to express it but not p0em? the endless repetition until it comes out right. right? could anything be more wrong than thinking that? what?
how do you do? welcome to the zoo. all the other monkeys here too. too many monkeys it seems, getting tangled up in each other’s schemes. the bully alpha apes win the day. they have everything their way. there’s more of us than there are of them, but who is gonna lead the charge? is there no one? we thought so. now sit down and shut up, and get back to work.

work. who thought that up? what a miserable life to lead for most. slave labor camps where no one gets ahead of the game set against them except for individual people here and there who figure out the scam and want in on it.
the clown never wanted to. he stayed out of it as best he could, thinking and dreaming in his idle time he secured for himself. why deal with the worry and bother of running the show? he was and still is a happy clown – except times when he is not. and some wonder how one thing can be two things as logic and reason tell us they cannot be. fuck that noise. this is the future, baby, anything can might happen.

and that’s that in a hat.

popeye 2

not poem 33 – in the dark of winter

33 –


good morning?
coffee toke cigarette.
and it’s medication time.

so it goes as the day passes.
now the night leads him on ahead and we shall see what might happen next.
toke and cigarette. the coffee’s done gone, old and cold. but the kitty needs petting by the pathetic looks she gives him begging.
his stomach is empty. he wonders what’s to eat. they need to go get supplies soon.

back to the beginning – ±0. now where does that come from? except it just is continuing from nowhere to here now which are the same location of what appears to be spacetime which doesn’t really exist yet or any more. but does that matter to our calculations?
how does any of this all work?
well, one starts with 2+2=cow, and when that makes sense the rest of it becomes clear. do you understand?
the clown chews some double bubble.


life is to learn how to become and remain calm – guru jeff.
guru jeff was so calm that he never bathed or changed his clothes he’d sleep in and wore all day. his was a radiant stench permeating every corner of the house, there was no getting away from it – nope.
so we murdered him in his sleep smothering him with dirty pillows, and la-dee-da. dragging his body back to the dumpster behind the 7-11 and hauling him into it with a thud to be discovered as just one more dead bum to be disposed of by the authorities.
our job was done, as it had been written as the fulfilment of prophesy discovered in the biblia dyslexikon by seekers from all walks of life in the world as is. synch your settings and come along for the ride of your life. it is your life – dig it.

our lives opening to experience other dimensions we were not aware of yesterday as time comes around again pulling into the station.
language is metaphor yet it is also plagiarism, everyone using the same words and phrases over and over again again.

and now the clown sees 9:11 all the time, no more 11:11 too much. is this a good sign? a bad sign? a sign of what? whatever.


section 8 –
aggressive militants storming the fashionable facades of established order that there’s nothing there behind them but rot and decay of human vision defended at all costs to anyone but ourselves hoo-ha. the pigs are on the loose. run, baby – hide. no one knows you but yourself, and it needs to stay that way for all concerned. no one knows shit.

X11/-P – great name for a princess prince dashed out in splendid fine attire and accessories for everyone to admire and be resentful with envy that’s it’s not them in parade. that’s the plan, and it shouldn’t but it works every time.
as we enjoy our simple lives far from the crowd as we can get, yet still have access to goods and services and all that comes with it. we don’t mind having to restrain our absolute freedom some in order to get along with others in peace. but the powers that be in most of the groups around us demand our total subservience. we refuse to abide. it’s easy to do in general but can become complicated with details.
but by gazing into the details we understand underlying all is the same substance of everything. what joy this brings us to open our eye and perceive new worlds within this world.


everything proves nothing proves everything.
±0 proves itself by existing. who believes existence is not proof cuz it doesn’t follow logic and reason to obvious conclusions? – cuz there ain’t no conclusions, baby.
as this weary discussion falls on its face we proceed with whatever as the clown picks at scabs of dead skin on his face. more coffee, another toke, another smoke.
truth is truth, no denying that – though we often do deny it sometimes. but truth is power and power is corrupt, etc.. it is what others do armed with truth that we protest against. it is a weapon in their hands.
and our distrust about what is being claimed as truth being only designed for political social control by whatever means through religion and science both dictating what is reality.
it’s funny to the clown how much of everything is designed to support and/or enforce the established order no matter how schizoid it may seem to be at times like these times. is nothing SACRED? of course it is, worshiped by nihilist thinkers who need nothing (the abyss) to believe in.

popeye 2

crazy, man, crazy.

listening to crazy music the way he likes it. keep your popular love songs to yourself, please. guru jeff tells us that love ain’t what it’s cracked up to be. guru jeff tells us all sortsa shit and then some. RIP guru jeff, a real spanner in the works if we ever saw one.

there is so much to tell about this world and we tell it all to one another through global interweb networks and such in our heads at our fingertips. is this such a good thing or what? we usually favor the choice, or what. we enjoy exploring other options and possibilities though they could be dead wrong, then we just go a different way into the unknown to us and our kind – our kinda fools.

will our truth surmount these obstacles? is our truth prepared to meet all rationalogic and/or irrationalogic critical thought set against it supposedly proving it wrong and misguided? we tell ourselves this isn’t so. nothing is a match for our truth.
yay hooray, it’s so exciting knowing the certainties and uncertainties of truth.

and we hold ourselves hovering to this plane of seemingly dreary existence in the murky mire of reality from which the lotus is rooted and grows to blossoming wonder. and many seek this route to heaven while we seek heaven where and when we’re at in the here & now, baby.
there is more going on here than one might think at first. however, we learn with time how delightful it can be to our good fortune to become balanced with it out of balance as we are moment to moment in the one continuing moment, because when is one unit of time exactly finitely divided from another because of a clock? instead is it not infinitely eternally now?

but all that has been covered before in earlier discussions that come around again in different forms of expression as if born anew. a serpent shedding its skin. will it never stop? of course it will. it stops on a dime, every time.

make it happen

32 –


another attempt at meaningless meaning the clown typing not p0em forever and a day toward infinite reaches of a mindscape within around him always of what he knows and what he has still to know. he knows very little about anything that it might as well be nothing at all, however it excites him to imagine all he has yet to learn about. it will take something like a zillion lifetimes, after that he could perhaps claim that he knows something about something maybe. but not like the wise guys now who know everything there is about shit and stuff. he’ll never catch up with them, he thanks his lucky stars about that.
coffee, toke, cigarette.
and it’s medication time.
he also needs to poop.

so he takes his sweet ass time about doing anything, about doing nothing. could life be any better? not for him but for many others it could. he thinks about them a moment or so once in a while. we could help them but most of us choose not to. we’re late for the party. and he is the same so he cannot be too critical, but only be hypocritical, and he is that too. oh well, take him out and shoot him already.

he’s had a good life, he could have died or been seriously injured many times, but the gods held back their hand. was there a reason? not in an absurd universe there isn’t. and yes the universe is absurd – sometimes, sometimes not. all different for different people.
the fat black cat taps his arm as he types. hey asshole, she meows, pet me – now. the little cunt, always interrupting him for her own innocent pleasures.
all animals are innocent, aren’t they? it would seem so to him. but as stated above and elsewhere, he knows nothing, or next to it, ±0. he didn’t particularly wanna know anything. he thought either he knew or learned what he needed to know accordingly to his present situation as is. and he was correct. hooray.

he’s glad he’s not the incredible shrinking man, but maybe he is. the light shrinks and disappears. it could happen. all is speculation, theory.
and the clown likes that it is theory. he’ll take theory over truth anytime. theory can change, truth has trouble with change, it resists with all its might. but maybe that’s a good thing. there perhaps should be truth preserved for the generations to understand. we will probably never know if or if not this should be, unless we begin at 0 again. erase all truth. but this is a dangerous path to take. once truth is erased can it ever be known again? if it is true truth then perhaps it can. what goes up will always come down – mostly.

these are our doubts. if we think about it, we doubt everything. we doubt the actuality of everything, why not? why not, becuz doing so leads to one not being able to function in the world. many things in our experience must be suspended by belief to be real. without that we are truly nowhere at no time, which maybe doesn’t matter cuz everything begins with 0 except that which begins forever.
do you see? hahaha.

no, it is our imagining that keeps the world together as much as it is, but it also destroys. creating sustaining destroying, the 3 states of existing.
not p0em comes and goes like waves on a beach, if we happen to be sitting on a beach watching them while the war continues around us. a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea. the sea is humanity. do you begin to understand it now? if you do, what the fuck’s wrong with you?
explain: ____________________________________________________?

Leadership with education

this is madness. if you understand it you may be mad as well, mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore – haha.
so it goes. and we go with it any which way it might go from here to wherever and all that jazz.
and it’s medication time.

dirty down blues. the sacrifice of angels, though there’s no such thing, however there could be perhaps if we believe so or not. what you believe is what you get. be careful. everyone’s a psycho/sociopath these days as perhaps they always have been. can’t trust any of them. they’ll cut you down quicker than shit for no other reason than for the excitement of it, or for their personal gain. but is this anything new? not really. this complaint is a complaint of the ages. there have always been assholes among us. why this must be so is anybody’s guess. how do we get rid of them is on everybody’s mind.

we must get rid of ourselves, that’s the trick. separating the wheat from the chaff. but think about how wheat is harvested and how it is threshed and divided each plant from itself to give up its wheat, not the plants divided from one another some good some bad. but who wants to think about that? it’s too much trouble and there’s fun to be had. fun fun fun.

people of all sides feeling like they are making an historic final stand against the powers of oppression just like they are supposed to feel that way directed by those very same powers and to believe how what they each feel and preach and sell is the truth.

and a day or so later –
awakening in the middle of the night, tired yet not sleepy. the not p0em calls to him to continue. but first something to eat which turns out is fudge covered graham squares. and coffee and cigarette.

and later that night –
not p0em still calling him to continue, which he does like clockwork inside a great great machine where everything is mystified beyond our recognition of what it actually might be. something like a holodeck grid? could be. that does not seem strange at all to many of us. we expect it, or something else just as curious as that is. something gradually revealing itself to us that we will understand why it had to remain hidden for ages. we are ready.
a monster is after us. a big scary monster. the worst monster of all. we cannot kill it. we cannot stop it. we shall see the fire of hatred in its eye as we are all gonna die by its claws and teeth ripping us to shreds alive screaming toward a slow agonizing death – hahaha.

we are kidding, you hope. maybe yes, maybe no. it is a possibility. if it happens will philosophers sit around debating if it is real or not real? or will they run away like hell is after them like everyone else?
the monster is the great equalizer. it hates everyone equally the same. we all suffer the same fate. we either find peace, love, and understanding then or never.
many prefer never, and they will charge the monster in a futile attempt to gain victory over it. the monster is too monstrous. it is too quick and subtle for us. we are keystone cops up against the giant behemoth. there are no heroes, just dead amateur wanna-bes.

but monsters are not real, except in our heads and made up stories of olde. and that is precisely exactly where the monster comes from and makes itself known to us, in our imaginations. the monster is not real, it does not physically exist, but few will realize that fact and ignore it as if it is a gentle morning mist evaporating in the garden.

but why write about monsters? why write about anything? why a one eye, one horn, flying purple people eater? and wondering, who wrote the book of love? and all that jazz.
but the peanut gallery probably has no idea about that, or maybe they do. we don’t know them. do they know themselves? [ ] yes. [ ] no. [ ] maybe. [ ] SEX.
do we ever really remember? what has been forgotten? what’s the emergency pal?
PB&J is probably the result of mass marketing for it to be so popular. all popularity is marketing. look at the hippies and punks. look at religion. look at political leaders. marketing marketing marketing.
what would we do without marketing economics bringing us together in order to divide us apart? those who market the best rise to the top of the heap which is where we all wanna be cuz we’d be free right?

the clown doubts that,.555-\ does the clown feel he needs to doubt everything? yes he does. why not? doubt is one of the many paths toward enlightenment never to be achieved but we to be ever onward pursuing. doubt is harder but more sure than faith. doubt makes us think, faith abolishes thinking. this we are sure of, as sure as we are about gazorbnik. but how can anyone of us be sure of gazorbnik? it’s a constant riddle in the middle of everything. it’s as constant as people wishing each other thoughts and prayers in times of misfortune. forget that, send $$$.


not p0em part 111 –

part 111 –

99 as a spaceship hovers nearby

surveillance mission: go/green team/go.
use it or lose it baby. holy heptagons hazel, what have you done? it’s a miracle of the gods appearing before us. hooray for us. let’s wave each our flags forever and ever in the afterworld which part of itself juts out from the crystaled ceiling of the burning theater in 3d space and time (whatever that is about).

is it illusion (mocking deceptive appearance)? but doesn’t this illusion also include our thinking? many tell us it does. when we 1st put our hand through a table or a wall or something else “solid”, it kinda tickles sorta in a way that is not the way at all but a way of tricks disguised as magick (do you feel the power now baby?).
a witch a what?

a language of counting. a language of rules. a language of stories.
a language of lies.
we had to lie to them all. smoke on the water. otherwise the project would not get built to specifications and put together as it is now. divided we stand. it’s something to do to amuse (to divert the attention, beguile, delude, fool, tease, hoax, entrap)  ourselves to watch as the machine destroys itself giving birth to itself.

we have made god in our image. the clown imagines god as sorta this intelligent multidimensional multitemporal splorge thing if it has any physical form at all. but maybe not. maybe just the opposite. but it is able to chameleon itself into anything it wants to, or any part of itself. a rock. a beam of light. a burning bush. a cowgirl. anything.

100 if you stare at it long enough

what? hey wait a minute…
that is the consciousness the clown tries to instill in what he makes, including not p0em. the exact moment of not knowing what the fuck.
good luck.

but this can only exist for a few. what if everyone was transported to this consciousness? nothing would probably get done, perhaps. for sure. not the way everything gets done now, by forced labor. but isn’t that how it’s always done? who wants to work? just those who wanna be in charge of everyone else they can manage to exert their control over.
but that’s not the point.

no wonder not p0em makes no sense to the majority as it is designed not to. it only makes sense to the clown continuing writing not p0em as a warning for others to stay away. he wants to be a genius at being an idiot. that’s understandable, right? or not.

but maybe it goes all ways radiating out from location bliss 19 parallel to jupiter ±0 in a zillion threads each of which assume they are existing in the real deal and others are alternates of itself.
and it’s medication time.

we have questions with few answers. many answers contradict one another – or even themselves. are we not to believe them? the followers of rationalogic tell us, no, do not believe contradictions.
however for the clown what is true is everything in the world being contradictions with people divided on which ones are true and which ones are false. it’s too complicated for the clown. he avoids these people as much as possible.
to be one way thinkers, or a multi-way thinker. you decide.

of course space and time are illusions. that’s what they are supposed to be, created to be. it is not of the world. oh no, not that. but given that everything is illusion the clown is keen on how the illusions work. but he doesn’t wanna be told how they work but figure it out on his own.

101 alfie

it’s all in a plenum singularity thing blinking on/off off/on in different locations of spacetime that are the same location (here now – 0,0,0,0). and all this is imaginary. nothing is real. remember that.
but all the locations of spacetime are within the singularity as an infinitely dense plenum. it’s all potential, none of it actually happens. this is how and why there is no such thing as motion. how can there be motion in a plenum that is infinitely dense as a singularity? this is how and why the universe is traveling at the velocity of light. all possibility into one possibility. well, actually 2 possibilities – on or off. but between on and off lies continuums of infinitesimal infinity. so it goes.

coffee toke cigarette time.
the fat black cat probably knows more about this business than he does. oh well. if she does, she’s not telling.

with use of rationalogic we can disprove and dismiss the existence of everything – even the very idea of existence. will we be happy then?

nothing more is needed than a singularity, which probably cannot exist. not p0em is the clown’s zillion+ word mantra to god. it begins at ±0. everything begins at ±0. what is ±0? 0 is nothing. nothing exists. this paradox is impossible so long as 0 is nothing. it only is possible if 0 is something. something to love. 0 becomes something by being ±0. have we got this straight? one never knows.

otherwise a singularity cannot exist. everything goes down to a single location of spacetime. a single location of spacetime cannot exist, imbecile. a plenum having everything compressed to a single location of spacetime until it no longer exists cuz that’s the smallest it could possibly be. everything is at 0, which again is impossible. for everything to exist it cannot be 0. it becomes ±0. and this in part proves our theory of everything – upon this rock, baby.

does thinking prove existence? many would tell us, no. but who cares? does thinking prove thoughtcrime? be polite. be smart. don’t let your guard down. vamped out. so, where did we get lost from ourselves? it could have been anywhere. but we’re alright. we didn’t even notice we were gone.

but thinking back on everything it is impossible to be wrong. drilling holes in your head.

love is a mythological emotion, and sometimes a triangle is just a triangle – guru jeff.
so there.


not p0em 31 –

31 –



o’ joy, our hearts sing aloud. no one can touch us, even when they come to murder us, they cannot touch us. it’s absolutely amazing to feel it flowing within us. it’s time now to pet the kitty, at least she thinks so climbing onto the clown’s lap demanding attention while he types nonsense that is not p0em for no one. glory be, thank our lucky stars always with us, though often it doesn’t seem that way going the long narrow path winding toward heaven where we will never arrive. it is the journey itself that is our destination and all like that the wise guys tell us. it’s all in our dreams of beginning and ending down the road. it’s all goofy twinkle tunes.
he kisses the snake as his mother told him he should. this seems to be the place and time. forget the innuendo, this is for real – if anyone remembers what that is by now. do you?
different metaphors have different meanings for everyone. language itself is metaphor. nothing we can do about that.
so, it’s hard to find common ground among us as we misunderstand nearly everything of any real importance into abstract formulations and such with unicorns and rainbows and spaceships and all that as the usual fare for those of imagination driving them onward, driving them mad. cute.

this is the mission to overcome ourselves, but why should we? becuz someone wrote it in a book some time ago? long shadows cross the street toward the night. commie motherfuckers, always spoiling everybody’s fun – zip pow. someone who has little has much. when have we been told that before? in just a moment our worlds are shattered and we lie in a heap at the feet of an awesome god indeed. we make our demands and are kicked outta the way. this is not when it used to be. we can no longer afford to live on excuses, that’s the word from high above – that’s the word taking away our love. our love is incomplete remaining the last desperate cry from a corpse in the gutter face down in an oil slick puddle. the police keep beating it long after it is dead. what is the cultural anthropological answer to this question? do its advocates dare open their mouths under this new anti-science regime? we shall see. but the sacrifice of angels haunts our memory we have forgotten. everything lies now in oblivion. [za] [bakdaz] – PB&J.


nothing – 0 – could be the foundation of reality. but it’s only the point of departure, though it is the point of everything. nevermind that for now.
the next part of our question is a duck that is large or small relative to what? what causes the frustrating confusion? is everything ducky? now we’re becoming silly. kill the fucking pigs. do it now. don’t stop. don’t hesitate. do what you are told by the counter-indoctrination transmissions set to your favorite flavor of the day. save the day. save it once for us. we’re your biggest fans. we collect them all, don’t worry.

we are not what you probably suspect us of being, unless that suspicion is, we are them. we are exactly them, just on another side of the fence along the popular fixation with those who differ in some form or another.
not too smart anymore, not very smart to begin with, though there never ever is a beginning which we suspect not many realize what that means still yet. double bubble. gazorbnik?


the next morning, awakening.
so, let’s get this business straight shall we? are we agents of the underworld? agents of the afterworld? have we become indifferent to the schemes of enlightenment which cannot be without darkness as much as we believe otherwise?
what does this mean?
it means look at all the possible options open to us. must we all choose the same? no, that is not possible. there will always be a spanner in the ointment. but let that not dissuade us from finding some sorta agreement among ourselves, an agreement of differences that we might learn from one another.
but many hold to the purity of what they believe that must not be corrupted by any differing outside ideas, or even hardcore truths. practicing these influences lead us to evil and must be punished accordingly. what happens to the one true faith if not?
fuck the one true faith.

we relearn our history now this late in the day of our dreams come true as we never really expected. oh no, we did not. a phone call from a friend living on the street. is he a necessary sacrifice? aren’t they all? maybe, maybe not. when does the round up come to take them to the camps? hear ye, hear ye, we have taken the power and we are in charge now. get used to it or face the consequences.

there is much to explain – too much to explain, and there are no explanations, not that we know of anyway. children force fed lies, but that’s how it’s always been. everything comes to life around us finding ourselves in it. the clown scratches his head unable to figure out the simplest problem while there are so many complicated ones in the way of it demanding his attention to think, and think, and think, and think, and rock and roll baby.


splendid stipulations of our existing. we must forget we are gods and surrender to being human for a while as we play the game against one another on all levels. everything is competitive as we like it. the poor suckers who suffer, but we are here to save ourselves in a race against mortal time. but is this true? probably not, but so what?

it all smells like bullshit. whatever. we state our own truths no one else’s – dig? da-doo-bop-a-diddle, here we are stuck in the middle yet connected to a universe that has no end until its time runs out and everything comes to a dead stop or disappears into the vast expanse of nowhere. but that’s all the way the fuck in the far distant future. at least that’s the theory. of course it is also all here now as well. how can it be anywhere else at any time? there is no other place or time. that’s the secret which is obvious as stepping barefoot in dog shit if we think about it. but who has the time or the inclination?

the krazy times keep happening as we love to see except us being uncomfortable whenever we’re with people where we gotta act normal. it’s a drag & 1/2, if you know what we mean. of course you do.
we suppose we cannot surpass the drunken adventures of some people climbing over one another toward the top of the heap. victory.
look at them carry their flag which has their brand printed on it. life is an infomercial, in a world where such things exist and more of same. launch all missiles, sings the commander in chief into the harmonet. everyone stops talking and listens. what will be the next sound they hear? or will there be silence?