Sean Walles



BetwiXt's picture


Member for
13 years 49 weeks
BetwiXt's picture

The evolution of the revolution will beat the heads of the televised

| |

Picture: Gage contact:

On reading Jung, post reflection on the excesses of barbaric revolutions.

Or, the evolution of the revolution will beat the heads of the televised.

Or, I drink the blood off the streets of revolution and oh, what foul wine!

Curved as it were, I read the following lines:

That religion was devised as a mechanism to sublimate wild unconscious currents that would flow through humankind as it does the elements! The weather! The atom! And the universe! That the psychic reservoir was moulded to particular blueprints; to reign in the pressure; to wield chaos to order; to dilute and freeze to ready made analogies and algorithms that may forever remain unapprehended, ontically, by apprehension of itself through the forms of shadow beings.

And now two thousand years after the birth of Christ; perdition's sedition - Mammon's markets thrive, religion corrodes from prostituted insides and forbidden fruit is but a corpse filled of maggots and flies, Afghani heroin shot through the needles eye, waiting for the anti-Christ! Religion and law that keeps their mouths and lips tied and the subjugated psyche's bought a brand new crisis, the shutters rattling; chaos is in the winds, the veil slips, the pillars of the ornament chip and the humans relapse into shadow superstition from the anodyne trance in paranoias prism, cash buys ignorance cash is happy ever afters march to the scaffold, behold we spare no prisoners, a face called oblivion on a ball of decaying dirt sail the depths of the heavens. Kill them! Screech the world leaders, what the hell, their memories are film! Music mists their minds in psychosomatic imprints, foul stench, living meat, fodder for images; sex markets death's iterant dreams, chop forests, kill the trees, marching droids of desiring machines, children of the new spirit in the church of thee electric invoke Lady MacBeth, elect killers to parliament, hail technology the barbarian machinery, life is good life is easy, mass murder military surgery and in the vulgar face of this humane decay; what is poised but ragged revolutionaries… Art and its mercenaries…  (Free agents yonder the matrix of post Homeric travesty.)

Exorcise the horde the conditioned urge of television's whores, to save society unthought. Shattering absolve through imploding mirrors the tainted dross through the Angelic blast of demonic unconscious, that the conscious mind, in symbolic labyrinths toiling neath, the sceptres of language, on the tongue drenched, so dastardly spent, was holistically left, completely unawares, a junky, an addict to the time-addled spell of its decaying habit; an evolutionary anaesthetic. That, which, they call, the measure of all things! ...

Old man Zarathrustra!

Kali, destroy temple.


Trample illusion!

Act as interlocutor, bury history invoke the future. For this no hatred, scorn, bombs, guns or fists necessary, no cowardly denial through projection of some outward enemy, all these things - manicured illusions stitched and instilled by the scourge of times history, which now and hear this ye...

History bears the charge of negative causality.

Lance it from the self so thou canst now serve beauty.

Beauty beyond seeing.


To procure her secrecy

To swim through the Elysian folds of Tao cosmic mystery, acquiesce the sublime symmetry, know this, know reverence and than

Thou shalt know freedom!

BetwiXt's picture

Paranoia sifts the paradigm shift..

Drunk world upon the soul of its profusion! All knowing Omniscient Schizopsychosis Patterns iterating, rendering the playhouse of matter... whereof: Gnostic transmission units within units, within units, within units, within one blessed bustling hurtling star-studded atom from the amoebian, handless, interlocuter of creation - Praise god, praise creation! Direct from the void live ever-changing. Paranoia... sifts the paradigm shift, greedily upon its own death dines, the smouldering ash, come the burning courthouse of mind, the opiate shot of olde worlde re-writes, sandcastle and shipwrecks, old colluseum mind, burning Witches to Christians whatever 'other' we can find - follow Mad Caesar pheremonal horde of herd heralding chains the insolent ants erecting Gods from the shame of their mishaps. The murder of their prophets... Hail Caesar and the Botox fascists! Where oh where goes ye oh farce of tiresome alchemy, Gaia's nervous breakdown tsunami, the withering of cathartic tears slashed the artic liquid; within the glow pre-industrial oxide crystals, throughout the storm alive and sparkling... Vicissitude reborn the phantom mists behold, now as they are let go, the past gone no longer to its hideous echo... Will future be won nor art thou composed... From determinist tao to the will of free mind... better i hypnotized... in-scents of Rose... the mind wherewith it hitherto repose... What goes, what grows? What foul games does time expose... Overzealous courthouse, seedy voyuers of reality strip show, no life of their own, cast the first and stone the crows! BRAIN SPLASH - NEWSFLASH! Forgive the despots, tranquilize demons your fractal eminence, weed them out yer subjective conscience, it's news opium, divide and conquer so sang machinic strategem of the ever-elusive slip dimension... Here and Then... Pre and post human? Electric light phantasmagoria media holograms wage inner turmOil, 'The Madness Of King George'! Never met the demoniac phantoms though in dreams i hereby beseech them... from solid state augmentation, blazing spirit re-recreation, to mould putty their spirits... I AM YOU, you are part aether... We are, LostAliens... Re-con$truction, bloodtonic, i of needle drawn from the future wind to fathom the i space in the planetary womb of thy harmonius aethereal: starring two thirds of God's angels in the ear melting swirling whirling dervish casts but of one symphony in the transubjective spiralling hypnotic epiphanic glass of ... viva la vie - energetic proficiency... We are heroic... no-bodies... i am in you and i am in me... i am the voice of elemental tendency i am the silence upon, entwined wherewith, wherein, within, without, it lives and breathes.. (oh thought, you're too much for me you and your joyous boisterous cacophanies... For spell Czech's its far too early for symbolically fucked over pedantics of pedantries... of pedantristry...) i the singularlity i the sexless galaxy i from which all things are scene i the haunted truth of being i the love which lent blood seam i the fire witch burn your freeze i the element weave of tapestry i the sun i the death from where it shone verily i vomit your Gods mine is eternity! Mine the neverending... i am the breeze sift through your trees, Walt Whitman said the dead speak through machinery, thanks Miles, thank the oxygen in your flowing bloodstream... Industrial menstration in the river dreaming... What! Chemicals to promote the bleeding by tampon companies, no, no, no you can't be serious? Cor, blimey, s'like arsenic spilt on the tobacco leaf, cut and pasted antibiotic chicken feed... oh and these are the sponsors of mental hell'th departmentality, where two and two make five Stalin's! Sorry water molecule photographers, some sigils need to be bled of their historical impo(r)tance, moonthly even, or odd, somewhere inbetween perhaps, as to the bones of unthinking ignorant cowards like despotic red rolling carpets... Oh these aren't familiar mind grammatic frequency's, he's dylexic, can't even fukkin spell it! Has a date with Zyprexia a long-lost Greek Goddess resurected by a thirtieth level dice throwing cleric, unearthed by Pharmakon-osis, an ace up the sleeve of Kronos schizophrenic brain meltiing, stage the war against the Gods and Titan Prometheus is hi-jacked by the swats, Socratic boys amourous camp club co-ordinates, seductio au axiom, now keep it real i mean rool from digression back to Pharmakon, behold, even Biblical etymology warns of his evils... Perhaps not so much as Satan was graft from Dionysus... Abracadabra - Metamorphosis Ovid! Sublime quantum elements as archetypal churning cows breast to butter to milk to Ovaltine to kurdish cheese, smiled the war photographer of the contract paid military juanta information machinery... and the clinic advised through love bleary eyes - join times herd, give up the herb, for ninety days, ha, no problem i do that involuntary anyway, than a second thought what if my people said get that girl of antipsychotics, 90 days at least, man i've seen prescription pills fry the brains of people more than a friend on nine years of heroin... Thus i took to smoking far, far more vigilantly... For it was advised by she, strung out on madhouse pills... Though this is not reactionist... This is the war against drugs! Organic God ordained vs synthetics, the govern-mental mind experiment... It's different in Oz unlike hash anti-gravity or alcoholic blind-select meat-market mannequin depravity... Yes children Anti-psychotics is good for ye... faithfull and despondant... oh come ye oh come ye... sez the homogenized culture vigilante, state sponsored Pavlovian machinery... advertising dreams of electric hive-mind climate control destiny, destroy all forest in poison river sequencing... Drink 10-80! Please we plea, please oh Princess Mary save the ever-green forests of Tassie... Our Government has abandoned thee... We cry like lost subjects on the floors of Danish monarchy... Elizabeth will not again dare to execute, heil, hail Mary! Oh names and their memory, Jane Seymour and the beheaded Queens of Henry... Gaia's on food strike, quick eat yer money! Mary Jane headspace more sound then whence i was leased by the corporate drone mind ground, its cheaP coffee flourescent globe marching, ant militia ipod army, eco-vampirical contract wielding in the spell of time sans history... Lament, "that's just the way it is", so said ballad, hip-hop... Dost squirmed reality. that witch wrote history declared the priest, the scourge of dis-information, yay, hip hip hooray, dumb down humans on the spinning space station... literature is like a flame - sacred text to melt the brain... in the gas mould law of deterministic relativistas... of individuatedly organized and packaged lives roll the cultural dice, what a fucked boardgame, i'd rather smoke some ice, said thy fool of hedonist high... coming down from angelic epiphanic, or the masquerading winds of the demon magnetic, a web in which my brother for one, thinks i'm serendipitously ensnared in, from Camelot to Canopus (coming soon to nomadology) mad mythology osmosis, archetypal collusion's subatomic profusions wielded so synchroniusly true rendered hyp-gnosis feeling simone feeling harmonius, yet he chastizes, it reeks of the lodge! Oh love whatever that God thereof... Thereof that God... to whom i's allot...
BetwiXt's picture

Destined Magnetics of Abject Bewilderment

Revolutions 'Free Parking'... Year in year out I see them come :--- and depart Fighters for the dawn Heralds of the revolution! Eyes burning bright as the night was dark before them. Soldiers from the abyss - “Where have they been?” Sings Ian Curtis in a Promethean machine. Yes, now where is he? Where art thou burning numinous beings? The firesticks devoured by the grease pit of chronos. Woah and where are ye? Harbouring but a sweet memory, latent cells in evolutions machinery. Nailed, is the will of your spirit to the isomorphic beat matrix of patriarchical derivations that wear the veils of language? Have symbols and words rendered you bit by bit into some sane but mad machinic assemblage, where neural tendrils, senses and perceptions are as dead stone cardboard hieroglyphic buttons! Reasons Numbered sails in the infinite wind: Marilyn… a candle adrift. Monarch slave of the architects programming. Clocks in the pocket of the zeitgeist blowing Dice in the wind…
BetwiXt's picture


Unconsciousness is the ragged doll Consciousness a bewildered Tin Soldier... Art the orifice of both the immaculate conception the not yet cometh... far far beyond pastiched aesthetics... (collusion of the unthought) the future arrives in the eclipse of time hail to thee the dissassociative divine a chaotic algorithim delineating the never never in the firmament of mind... love is quantum dynamite! part the red sea interstellar plasma live and bloody Reconciled...Yes thy lovers shalt bea
BetwiXt's picture

Palimpsestuous - Works In Progress a la Metamorphosis

I'm not a poet, a fool rather, a boy crying wolf and the muses sing imploding tunes. Echoes hurling insurrection! Squadrons of warring angels through and through involuting mirrors and citadels of consciousness, pranic breath of souler architecture laughing off the epochs. The errant tuning celestial profusion of galactic instruments at the cosmic carnival, now, pause for silence... Ah, at last, musicians, the conductor is in, ok, now, we can shake that drunken haze history tried to capture and frame through authoritative refrains accepted by the bored of acceptance, schooling chains, 1984 and the echoes of World Wars, what vapour, Baby Boomer at the helm! World War Two traumatic cell, industrial tree slaughter! 'Woah these earthlings sure know how to fuck up their planet' cried the village ferret, God replies: "as hath been said, albeit, in frozen text", as so rendered by the English translator reprinting the 'New Testament for Idiots, 134th edition'*... * Copyright 2109, Desolaters of Eden Press in association with Babylon Dreaming Armageddon INC. Where is he, I don't know, I met him in a dream. But at least it's in Greek said he, I'm not too good with my Hebrew. And the latter day notation of the select words of Jesus have already had, yet another mutation, re-write the church not the Bible said ma attorney. I meant English I can't read Greek, its just codes anyhow, codes trying to communicate the evervarying suffusion of astral resplendance, that which is, however, caught on the pinions particular to the phonohistorico, spectroassociative, sensory occupying, emotio-gravitational psycho-linguistic system that in accordance with time incorporated spits blueprints of psychic meteorite dust, birthing cybernetic nanobots of programmed consciousness to fish the humans, anchor them in, edit the spell book, Orwell. Poetry in so that it connects hitherto unconnected regions in the brain, is that which often keeps the impulse alive in what could very well be dead-pan automated language. Media regurgitations at workplace chatter. Anyhow! Folks from Mississippi been saying they saw Jesus, back again Christmas day, surrounded his birthday like a Golden Calf fattened with presents, a different kind of presence, wrecking the merch of a department store saying stuff like 'profane thouest, his name? Thine tickets, thine shopping dockets, egad, in my name, what happened to Babylon, the eye of the needle, the weak, the needy and the lame, what is thy compassion of pokie machines and a retirement village?' The news says it's a hoax. 'Just another one of those'*, said the nurse, under her breath for all national television to hear, with eyes as well, the projections of the shell, hear the sea of consciousness, no need, no siree, I'll hire it from the library in the eternal nutshell... I mean it's all on DVD... All popular culture is archived, in five years they've amassed a hundred years of alternate reality, and they call it the mainstream, good fodder for an eternity in heaven, gosh, I hope the cultural conditioning out there is exciting. I once overheard a sociology church going student. Like in an institution not being to tell, whether or not I was dreaming, oh but that I don't remember, makes it ok doesn't it? Something bad happened, but I lost my memory, of it, so seemeth... Echoes Charlotte Sometimes... A man or a butterfly? Or: whatever we herd the infinite within… A prisoner of the mental system, no crime, but the ecstatic! Now a prisoner of democracy, cry amnesty at the foothills of Hospitalized Plutocracy, the neuroeugenic dystopian fantasy, involuntary as a heartbeat! "People seem so close, playing expressionless games, people seem so close so many other names, sometimes I'm dreaming... Where all the other people dance, sometimes I'm dreaming, Charlotte Sometimes." The Cure "Has the Moon lost her memory, she is smiling alone..." CATS *'Jesus Delusional syndrome'... number one in the top fifty hits of 'schizoanalysis'... Mary the 12th apostle and as such it crumbled off the coastline of Australia, DaVinci code magnetic psychosis... Blood lines to the seed, the cosmic Atom and Eve. Drone... The depths of sublimated work-oriented collective unconsciousness, echoes rippling innocuous as road rage, drug addiction, drug traffic-Kings, news-opium, suicide, war, cancer, depression, industrial wastage, floods, terminator seeds, food patents, hurricanes, tsunami's, plagues, breakdowns in nervous weather spaces… Atlas neath the weight of conscience under the prow of sinking ship History and time comes up again and again scratching its head for the permanent inquiry, lost in its undertaking. Time passing... Innocuous it is! War changes everything, from red-fisted nuclear fuck the ecology warheads come metaphysical projection benevolent psy- spiritual warfare, phantoms behest the confused barbarians and the violence is sublimated through the luminous experience; more subtle ways to ameliorate the consciousness, we work the quantum resonance, where love holds its sway, the whole universe in play, time threaded weaves of a magnificent day. Oh, yes, what day is it today? Continuum. It is Always… Quick turn within... Decode... Oh, the language soul combustion system! Freeze to catalogue Isomorphic All (inc) Melt to a river thy mirror Narcissus Swim the liquid haze… in the ever-tuning aperture of symphonius space I's is I'sis... "Where happy little bluebirds fly..." Dorothy Garlanded in the Wizard of Oz Mosis...