Troll Hole Ahead
..ebuc...
Troll away the day,
Troll away does not pay
Troll my ass
Troll surfing in our grass
Troll eats all light
Troll is a blackhole blight.
Good poems/rap verses/book excerpts (do not troll)
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94
7 days later
Smog
...ebuc...
Smog blankets the landscape,
Smog blankets the landscape,
Smothering fresh air,
Blocking the light of knowledge,
Sucking oxygen from the soul,
Contaminating the blood,
Psoriasis spreads the outer skin.
Speculate on the coming flat lining.
( * i * ) >->-->----->------->---------->( ______ )
_______Rest In Peace________
Clogg
..ebuc...
Clogg is here, in your ear.
Clogg is near, in our sphere.
Clogg attack, is DArts new fate,
Clogg, sits atop, and does not hesitate.
Clogg remains, amongest societal pains.
Clogg us with a heel, our space it will steal.
Clogg away today, Clogg away tommorrow,
Clogg away is here to stay, much to somes sorrow.
"BEFORE THE SOUL DAWN by Helen Keller
Before my teacher came to me, I did not know that I am. I lived in a world that was a no-world. I cannot hope to describe adequately that unconscious, yet conscious time of nothingness. I did not know that I knew aught, or that I lived or acted or desired. I had neither will nor intellect. I was carried along to objects and acts by a certain blind natural impetus. I had a mind which caused me to feel anger, satisfaction, desire. These two facts led those about me to suppose that[142] I willed and thought. I can remember all this, not because I knew that it was so, but because I have tactual memory. It enables me to remember that I never contracted my forehead in the act of thinking. I never viewed anything beforehand or chose it. I also recall tactually the fact that never in a start of the body or a heart-beat did I feel that I loved or cared for anything. My inner life, then, was a blank without past, present, or future, without hope or anticipation, without wonder or joy or faith.
It was not night—it was not day. . . . . . But vacancy absorbing space, And fixedness, without a place; There were no stars—no earth—no time— No check—no change—no good—no crime. [143]
My dormant being had no idea of God or immortality, no fear of death.
I remember, also through touch, that I had a power of association. I felt tactual jars like the stamp of a foot, the opening of a window or its closing, the slam of a door. After repeatedly smelling rain and feeling the discomfort of wetness, I acted like those about me: I ran to shut the window. But that was not thought in any sense. It was the same kind of association that makes animals take shelter from the rain. From the same instinct of aping others, I folded the clothes that came from the laundry, and put mine away, fed the turkeys, sewed bead-eyes on my doll's face, and did many other things of which I have the tactual remembrance. When I wanted anything I liked,—ice-cream,[144] for instance, of which I was very fond,—I had a delicious taste on my tongue (which, by the way, I never have now), and in my hand I felt the turning of the freezer. I made the sign, and my mother knew I wanted ice-cream. I "thought" and desired in my fingers. If I had made a man, I should certainly have put the brain and soul in his finger-tips. From reminiscences like these I conclude that it is the opening of the two faculties, freedom of will, or choice, and rationality, or the power of thinking from one thing to another, which makes it possible to come into being first as a child, afterwards as a man.
Since I had no power of thought, I did not compare one mental state with another. So I was not conscious of any change or process going on in my brain[145] when my teacher began to instruct me. I merely felt keen delight in obtaining more easily what I wanted by means of the finger motions she taught me. I thought only of objects, and only objects I wanted. It was the turning of the freezer on a larger scale. When I learned the meaning of "I" and "me" and found that I was something, I began to think. Then consciousness first existed for me. Thus it was not the sense of touch that brought me knowledge. It was the awakening of my soul that first rendered my senses their value, their cognizance of objects, names, qualities, and properties. Thought made me conscious of love, joy, and all the emotions. I was eager to know, then to understand, afterward to reflect on what I knew and understood,[146] and the blind impetus, which had before driven me hither and thither at the dictates of my sensations, vanished forever."