Cheesy

Fuckin’ Cheesy Shit in Bushwick

 

Lollipop Guild

A Strange Environmental Eruption Occurred on Wyckoff St.

Guildmember Chris D’acunto

Special Guest

peom

in the morning in the moment 

there is rustling

god is spinning

fires burning filling us with power

blame the amen

there’s no glory 

faith is yearning

our own colossus

crumbling to the ground

atheism is over

as a generational struggle, atheism is over. i accept the vast unknown, and furthermore identify it in my mind as a single concept.

this does not mean i have to accept a cult of relation to the unknown — that stuff’s for the dark ages

Now one of the very first requirements for a man who is fit to handle creative media as a regular occupation is that he shall be so stupid and so phlegmatic that he more nearly resembles in his mental make-up the ox than any other type. The man who is mentally alert and intelligent is for this very reason entirely unsuited to what would, for him, be the grinding monotony of work of this character. Therefore the workman who is best suited to handling creative media is unable to understand the real science of doing this class of work.
—Frederick Winslow Taylor, 1911

violent green

violent green
plants came to choke me

no sounds when they grew

when i needed to eat
where were they?

i’m so hungry
i ate the fruits, yellow, bright
i didn’t feel full
so i kept eating

now i can’t feel,

vines wrapped around my legs
thorns pressed against my throat
cloying scent- shoved in my nose

Readjusting the Scales of Our Measurement

 this is a collage i made

 

Glorious Triumph of Modular Shipping in Search of the Next Shore, Origin Point Neutral

Blast Furnace of History

Illustration “The cube ate the flower” by Louis Hellman for his book “Architecture for Beginners” in 1994; Adapted and redrawn by Nikos A. Salingaros for the essay “Toward Resilient Architectures 3: How Modernism Got Square” Metropolis Mag 2013; adapted by S. Dwyer for the collage “Blast Furnace of History” 2014.

Quiet

“Quiet.”
One word with a proper capital and definite period cleared the ongoing; in a vacuum, my senses flooded with unfiltered stimuli. As a reflex – or, I have begun to think, perhaps a compulsion – I began to perceive a new thread and quickly returned to my weaving.
I am uncertain when my project will be complete, but lately I have begun to perceive great forms in the shadows that lie beyond my consciousness, and to discover within myself surprising facilities with tasks I once found challenging, but now faintly perceive as I hurdle beyond them.