Hilarious and Philarion

Art, Books and Literature, Conspiracy and the Occult, Education, Media, Poetry, Religion, Science, The Life of the Mind

Lots going on this weekend….join the con-
versation. Speak words. Use language that
symbolizes acts and objects: a cat,
a verb of action, adjectives. The dawn
breaking is not in fact the sun. Come on.
The sun is the sun, but Babel’s ziggurat
turned talk to meaning’s meager bureaucrat,
a laboring Lyotardian différend
whose catalog of clucks and wails and jives
must trick the brain to think it thinks in words:
the quick brown fox; the great state of Ohio;
the least shall be the first; the fit survives—
from learning speech by ably aping birds
in song to come to this: Pussy In Bio.

Or, the Wail

Books and Literature, Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Economy, Education, Media, Plus ça change motherfuckers, Poetry, Religion, Science, The Life of the Mind, War and Politics

To the American people: Our future starts around
kitchen tables just like this. With moms
and dads just like you. Although, it says in Psalms
that ma and pa will leave you, lost and clowned-
on by your enemies: a modern Jonah drowned
by mankind’s monstrous mechanized pogroms
against Behemoths and Leviathans:
no mouth to gulp us; El Elohim unfound
and missing from his tabernacle since
we lost his interest, being more concerned
with what our neighbors say on Nextdoor, what
will leave the incremental vote convinced:
Their own? Deserved—What others get? Unearned.
The world won’t bang its end. And you? Shut up.

Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus

Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Media, Plus ça change motherfuckers, Poetry, Religion, The Life of the Mind, Things that Actually Happen, War and Politics

US names campaign to target Houthis
in Yemen “Operation Poseidon Archer”—
failed opening-weekend Aquaman mise
en abyme—abyssal god’s too-late departure
from depth and form to dumbass Artemis
who hurls more heedless missiles, baking sand
to glass for a domestic audience
that can’t tell Bab al-Mandab from dry land.
They asked: tell Philly Ahab, cut it out;
stop bombing hospitals, and we’ll permit
your ships to pass; in Florida, a gout-
y two-star reads the note and files it
do not reply, and cracks a beer, desires
good consulting gigs when he retires.

Endymion

Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Justice, Media, Plus ça change motherfuckers, Poetry, Religion, Sports, The Life of the Mind, War and Politics

“DeSantis drops out of Presidential race
and endorses Trump.” No less surprise has ever
flowed from failed ambition; it was never
gonna happen, yet God’s good grace
brought us, witnesses, to this time and place
to see this runted, rutting, not-so-clever
Archimedes: world to move, no lever
though—and spot to stand? Yes: third place.
A scorned son will make an idol of the dad
who lured him to the sport he couldn’t play
and coached the team to make him ride the pine:
loving to hate himself and going mad
to please the man who calls him short, and gay,
and weak: loss is a howl, but defeat? A whine.

Beauty School Cop-Out

Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Media, Poetry, Science, The Life of the Mind

Young men today feel they must be six
feet tall, make six figures and have six inches
downstairs to get with any basic binches
whose blonde ambitions won’t put up with dicks
or dudes too small and weak to make the Knicks:
picky as cats and flighty as flocks of finches,
they will eschew the sexual-nuptial cinches
of poor short men with decent politics,
a loving nature, kindness, murderous rage
that they were once passed over for the prom,
a perfectly normal love of firearms,
a set of calipers with which to gauge
which race should rule the rest, a wonderful mom
who’s reassured it’s no call for alarm.

Minecraft Kampf

Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Media, Plus ça change motherfuckers, Poetry, The Life of the Mind, Things that Actually Happen, War and Politics

Whenever I’m on a career advice panel
for young conservatives, I tell them to
avoid, if possible, the rootless Jew;
and jokes that use the N-word more than two
dozen times; extolling Hitler’s blue-
eyed soldiers for the zillion Slavs they slew;
that rib-born woman is God’s after-chew;
or Atomwaffen’s Twitch your favorite channel.
O, son-born sires of sons of Edmund Burke!
Thou must in this needs be but more discreet:
do not DM your friends what you believe—
that rape is good, or Hungary over Turk,
that Christina Pushaw ought to show more feet.
The left’s perversions, you cannot conceive!

That’s Fine

Books and Literature, Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Plus ça change motherfuckers, Poetry, The Life of the Mind, War and Politics

“The Nazi stuff” is literally one one hun-
dred thousandth of the things my boss collects.
He owns many non-genocidal texts.
He’s not quite sure the good guys really won
a certain war when all is said and done,
but, that aside, he is in all respects
mere amateur of Volkish analects:
mere millions spent on Adolph’s art for fun.
Yes, he honeymooned at Babi Yar,
but only to feel the breath of history;
his iron gates are simply meant to warn
the liberal Jews they oughtn’t go too far:
otherwise, they’re fine, and should stay free.
For this, the Twitter mobs uncork their scorn!

Now More than Ever

Books and Literature, Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Poetry, Religion, The Life of the Mind

Men my age are horrifically boring. I don’t
care about cars or home renovations or
sports; prefer the old god behind the forest door,
who dreamt the world that was as real before
your young creator rent the sea from shore,
and lit the sun, made worm and dinosaur,
made fish and pelican, made tree and spore;
what pitiable prayers you late-born menfolk pour!
what once was song is now but retch and snore,
the dying gargle of a maze-mad minotaur
whose quarry fled the coop. Well, I set store
by ancient worlds, and sadder men, who tore
their hearts in two for every friend; therefore,
I can’t connect, by which I mean: I won’t.

This Man’s Art and that Man’s Cope

Art, Books and Literature, Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Economy, Education, Media, The Life of the Mind

I only have eyes for my beautiful wife, who has been
corrupted by the greed of centralized
fiat currency; she has unrealized
my gains and cut me off from kith and kin.
Such fungible affections are a sin!
No future fortune ought to be despised,
pre-disgraced in skeptical women’s eyes
when man plus NFT must equal win.
What godlike power in one single gif:
from central bank to senator, each fears
the power of the yeoman farmer finally able
to transubstantiate a hieroglyph
through random numbers and the faith of Twitter peers
into un-money whose value is unstable.

High Genes

Conspiracy and the Occult, Culture, Education, Media, Poetry, Religion, Science, Uncategorized

“More and more I find bathing to be less necessary.” -Jake Gyllenhaal

More and more I find bathing to be less
necessary; and I also think that there’s
a whole unbathèd world of finer hairs
and better skin, oil-anointed and blessed
like holy Israelites, or lettuce dressed
in vinaigrette as tart as winter air.
Don’t let the water catch you in his snare,
drowned Neptunian depths of scrubs and soaps,
skin pricked and puckered as a pickled bean,
good humors leeched and sunk like sand and grit.
God would not design us thus, one hopes:
his loving procreative beings are clean,
black nails or not, green knees, or greasy tits.