Archive for May, 2011|Monthly archive page

dumbly racked under nietzsches knowledge

In Uncategorized on 05/14/2011 at 4:18 AM
is this state where god is dead. but he is also alive and well.
actually it doesnt matter because he isn’t even on my forefront
that odd loneliness that perches upon the top of my brain pecking away at each unblemished spot has been given wings by that rando’s tequila (man that was good shit)
it’s that odd loneliness that makes us scratch our nose because that attractive opposite may just do the opposite of being attracted and get detracted and very similar to how we feel about everyone else.
it’s that odd loneliness that parallels the fighting instinct in our brain chemistry with our arguments over what brain chemistry actually fucking is.
as if our survival could ever rely on what we say about or vitals.
sure god judges everyones heart. but if everything is absolutely and completely personal and relative to their own life: why this need for an arbitrary law?
because it was divinely delivered in the form of some cool documents that we translated. talk about doing something crazy: wikileaks the shit out of all the original religious documents and we shall find that when put in the wiki context, the only reason anyone would ever believe any of this is the sheer numbers.
email someone a doctrine and it does nothing.
indoctrination is not forcing them to learn. it’s forcing them to say yes to what you are saying and then calling it learning.
learning is a fucking accident and luckily education creates channels for those naysayers to live in a van down by the river while us college kids float on to life.
learning is a fucking accident: case in point, the godfather. he is a magical bitch and he didn’t need no education, learning whether or not god gives it to us is not about truth, it is about growth.
you can’t learn truth. that doesn’t even make any sense that implies that the others are living in lies. and who defines truth? the people who found it afterward. truth can only be a matter of preference and then there are rules. but truth and rules do not intermix. rules are ruthless, truth is toothless. all you need is some pliers to “open their eyes” and fill it with some altered light.
that is truth? doubt it. the universe doesn’t make any sense because the only thing that makes sense is that incorrect view that we rely on to live. the facts dont match up with what we know as truth and it doesn’t fucking matter.
because it’s 4 am and the fact or truth is that i should sleep and stop factoring truth in this factory.
this is fact:
this is fact:
this is fact:
this is fact:
this is fact:
and that my friends is truth.

“Truly I tell you, unless you change [my wikipedia article] and become like little children [trolling on wiki articles], you will never enter the kingdom of heaven [in it’s internet-like infinite-ness]

In Uncategorized on 05/07/2011 at 5:14 AM

i thought i liked baha’i, ya know those people who sound middleeastern and sponser the 23 s (but not north) because they are all about only having a text and no human intervention. but i dunno, it’s kinda silly.

baha’i? haha, they say that “humanity” matures. that right there just shows how weak, and strong the ideology is. what the fuck is humanity? if there is one thing i have learned to appreciate in college, it’s shuffle (seriously, just shuffle mewithoutyou, it’s actually as good as each album in a row) but i’ve also learned

society/humanity/”they” is a misnomer.

k well i never realized that i think baha’is are idiots. no, they are ideats.

but i, deats, i kyle, just may actually have some bahai in me. that would be funny because bahaha is the term i use to describe that feeling of something laughable but not really funny.

accidental pun as well as accidental association with my transcendental side. nice.

so what is that title talkin about? is kyle reading the bible? more like creading. crazy reading? close, reading is crazy inherently. it’s a combination of creating and creeds.

let this play while you read the bible.

Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” mt18:3 -> lk 2:22 “When the time came for the purification rites required by the Law of Moses, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord.” -> numbers 15:3 “then make an offering by fire to the Lord, a burnt offering or a sacrifice to fulfill a special vow, or as a freewill offering or in your appointed times, to make a soothing aroma to the Lord, from the herd or from the flock.”

if any body else is WTFin, wait! the finish will culminate in an ending. haha

KYbLE: Kyle + Bible (+bile)

Let’s present this as a story:

With family lines drawn from the loins of an ancient antiquitous king, Joseph goes full blast as he holds his everything in his pants. This is because there is nothing in his pants, he pants not to get in their pants because he has no balls. But he’s got some serious balls for a different reason.

He merrily marries Mary, marring his own reputation, but saving hers. Whether by some unHoly injection or her hole on an erection, its now June, no she has not the appeal of Juno and he has no knowledge that nothing like the Palm March will come out of this kid, coming out in March.

Fuck his childhood, we wanna know someone is higher than the gov, the Man. We wanna know there is a God. And we wanna know he is the Man. And a man. So let’s here about him when he’s a man.

But first, to wet your appetite, wipe your bib, and wead the weaving tale (aka Bible) that really begins with his Biebhood as an angsty teen. But before the writing of his rites righteously riding on an ass, he’s gonna rape these asses, the kings of asses asking the King astounded at his knowledge. 18-5:3

Then there is this ditch of his young adult life. Well, it was just that then: empty. Heysuess’s perfection was an afterthought. As was his bio. Lesson? It’s not about what we do to ourselves, it’s about what we do to ourselves to help others. All ur sins buds, technically its masochism. Humanity then is masochistic. Though you may complain it’s masomystic, those singing “Oh” to Christ in Mass, are masochristic.

Carpenter catching carp. Fisher fishing fellows. Fisher price? Free, but the life of the price has only raised 4 points. An oasis in the desert he’s tempting thrice, getting chicks wet from vice, redefining the whys to being wise,  he knew revenue was for  the foo and kept his fisher price.

Turns out he’d be a sell out, or at least be sold out, for thertee (or was it her teet?) We thought it’d be a breeze, but those threee eees in between would Be ouR Z’s in “I’ll live” park as we parked it while the King had a Summit on some mount.

Knowing wood well, the virgin birthed 12 hard headed steps up to a crossroads so one road would be crossed out opening the narrow road to the cross. 1 from the 11 from the 12, the all-natural decayed log of 2. He would be wooden wood, not cornerstones like the other 11 totem poles blown over by the wind. He was chipped cedar from Lebanon in the Kings Palace, a hard headed stick with a soft spot.

He tripped the wire, was utterly changed into fire, and as the smoke rose higher and higher, on psycharelics all was revealed by his beloved squire.

i was listening to this song.. it’s by mewithoutyou.

i was listening to this song.

(its terrible) some living irony to covering good songs when you aren’t good is that you show it’s all about the people.

and that is my point. i just told you the story of Jesus Christ, but it means nothing, it was stupid. too crass to be called wordplay, more like wordplagued as if meaning is only in the words. its just the opposite of that though. if the story is in the words, and the story is the same but the words are different then whats the big?

i was listening to that song, and for some reason i heard Weiss whine, “our lord was born to a manger bed, that all whose wells run dry can drink of his supply” and i said yeaaah. then i thought of all the constructions. the after thoughts. i mention the “afterthoughts” in my stupid lil bible. i thought thats what i was after, the afterthoughts.

it’s like bible gives you all of these little puzzle pieces of jesus. we treasure the treasures that treasured those treasures. but then in 325, we boxed the puzzle to sell it in packages by fashioning pieces out of phrases from the original puzzle. it made them feel more complete as they made it more complete.

suddenly, those little treasures weren’t enough to fill them up and so we kept going and we kept fashioning phrases more fashionable than before until they turned to shirts turning out crowds in hume lake humming tunes laden with the hard heads of some souls sure their shirts hurt themselves.

i realized the story was wonderful really and very modern. jesus’ tale, so many elements that could be taken to signify the modern man. and i took some time tonight reading some verses. i really enjoyed gathering my own meaning from them.

something about children right?



i love creation. but the best part of creation is persons creation. mewithoutyou combines personality with creation. because you should create, but still create something reflecting your personality, otherwise i b lik y u frontin?

think of a modern city compared to kingly city in which you are a demographic in a democratic society. yet the subtext of christianity is that we subdue our personality all for the king. “You’re everyone else”

but there was this personal contract of your own salvation that arrived on your terms. “You’re everyone else”

we stand for our standards, so what are our standards and to the stand the arduous task of standing to reason?  i dont seem to hold anything sacred anymore. and every day i feel like a different person. i dont look at the world and see myself in it anywhere sometimes. sometimes i am grounded, but sometimes i feel like every breath is a stroke through a sea of junk. like im having a stroke. like im the only one stuck in traffic. like im stuck. and other such contradictions.

i went and watched the sunset over the San Fernando Valley and got a $175 ticket for running a stop sign via a picture and i am looking at this in disbelief. if there is one thing in my life that i consider sacred, it is the sun. i would never disrespect the sun, never curse the heat and never plead it to come up any faster and warm my bones. because it’s the only thing i can rely on, the passing of the days.

get wrecked. (due 6/6/11 that’s 1 away from satan, but then again if you distribute, this dispute seems to beg forgiveness as you get 77)

remember that whole talk about creating and creeds?

you could derive all of christianity from these great lyrics:

Save my skin, I need a medic
Hold me down, I’m only sewn down.
Save my teeth, show me you meant it
Catch my death, I’m only sewn together.

My eyelids are heavy, and the night’s wearing on
Your story’s familiar, and your innocence is gone
We’d burn like the morning then break like your heart
Fall in love without warning just to fall back apart
All fevered and blistered, with nothing at stake
I feel the warmth of her whisper, and the cold of my mistakes
Her soul in the balance, my heart in her hands
I made her a widow, she made me a man.

problem is that no one wants to repeat all of that. christianity, the strength is numbers, though no one reads that book. i dont like the story, i just have fun with any story because of all the ASSociations i make.

i could sit around and find significance in anything all day long. i could stand too, but i’d get tired and i wont stand for that. i have standards man

and just as on corneria when you’re jumpin around and then you dodge something on that spacecraft and it takes you into outerspace.

get wrecked. enter the kingdom of heaven. ” I made her a widow, she made me a man.” there are so many connections, associations, links, toon links, zelda, ganondorf supersmashing around in the sea of the dictionary.

im just creading. closely reading the crazy eights aiding and adding up to creation created according to a creed creating their own creeds.


a kid on aristotle (who do you colon when you have : cancer?)

In Uncategorized on 05/01/2011 at 12:16 AM

that’s who wrote in dialogues right? i remember i read some of his tracts as he tracked truths while his 3 walked a track. doubt he was listening to heavy metal while he wrote them though.

probably why mine wont be as good. but this is definitely a good presentation of how i think i think. i wrote it in a flurry with a flurry of my different selves in tabs on the browser, strewn about the floor and half-drunk on the desk next to my hands. but two in agreement came out on TextEdit.

I wish someone would come out in agreement, with a blonde vagina and boobs to boot.

remember that time, glenn dail, in glendale when those kids forever sick listening to the sick kids forever the sickest kids were shot down by the cops like piggish dogs?

they broke the lamp store and danced together in a convoluted chaos

but it was rehearsed as the hundred hearses rolled on in to pick up their bodies

three days they danced like david before his king, on glass of lit lamps.

i remember they all had their bibles with the tear, those terrible pages torn.

yes i remember that too. those 7 men had altered the bibles of every internet program, altering the words of one page, so much that everyone

everyone of us..

believed their bibles misprinted and burned them buying new bibles that matched gods word online.

oh the scam, gideon was giddy as him and his thousand rolled on in the millions.

it was the day i had searched the entire house for a baby chick.

a baby chick?

yes i had heard the sound of a baby bird crying somewhere in the distance. i turned every rock over and found many keys and coins in my house that i had forgotten. but i discovered that it was a blockage of snot in my right nostril. it was the month i was so sick.

i remember that time, you missed the greatest party of our life time.

but i had discovered there was no chick hatched out of an egg. what did i first do the next morning? had eggs first.

is that what you think came first? the egg?

well we know that is impossible. unless that cock is less red than its head leads on. the egg belongs to the female. neither the chicken nor the egg came first, the cock came first, the rooster and the hipster will always come first.

ah you refer to the appeal of that winning little marsupial of poohs world?

yes, i am glad you recognized it my friend.

i see now, i see now that is why we all despise the old owl breaking his neck to peer around and prefer the furry peer you refer to.

yes the referee refers the little roo to fall off of the face of white face. but we would prefer that face to remain white

in a den hid from the world to just warmth. like the matrix babies. hidden.

blind to the light. the knowledge of darkness.

darkless in the darkness that little baby roo. on the side of that white underbelly of the earth’s pouch.

it is more of a pinkish tan. like a sunburn, crisp and fertile.

can’t the elderly be tanned though?

and can’t an egg be tan or white?

though our mind is colored white by some sort of past we have failed to grasp, though underneath we all know it is there.

the undertones of the underbelly.

and how close the underbelly is to the underworld.

we sound like grouches, with booboos and ouches about lil roos pouch.

pouches, it rhymes and is right. we are all in some sort of pouch.

yes, that is the axiom you refer to. as if the axis of evil had some axiom any less evil than ours.

that is the evil of the fruit my friend. clasp my hand in brotherhood for our belief that clasping hands refers to brotherhood.

ah yes how you highlight the black light revealing all of our little secret sexual desires on the sheets.

for we all have that axiom, the “I” in between the “ax” burying the hatchet and the “om” repeated by the river by the buddha.

and it is the “I” that must supplant themselves in some sort of axiom to flee the truth that

we are all in roos pouch?

no, that’s not what i refer to. for obviously they are the same thing.

yes but obviously that is all there is, that consciouness and the consciousness that comes with remaining unconscious to the consciousness.

well, i guess you are right but when you stretch it an expand it to include existence, you detract from my statement.

what is your statement then.

the fact that people would pay precious money for the “authorities” to explain away those sick kids dancing to the dissonance of chaos.

ah i like what you just did. for you have pointed out the pointlessness of the media trying to create some sort of reality that is navigable and satisfactory.

and that every movie we watch, is just 10 dollars of gratitude for making work that much more bearable without the tilt of a bottle.

but look what i can do. recall Ralph Waldo Ellison and Ralph Waldo Emerson, and their beautiful link.

who could not? it was the reason Ellison abstained from penning another novel despite his talent.

but that was probably more than that.

true the assassinations made a real ass out of his second attempt.

as did the tilt of the bottle.

but if anything, he made an ass of himself, outdoing himself in the first attempt.

and i will now make an ass out myself trying to make an ass out myself as Ellison did.

because you will fail?

because we will fail.

wont we all?

well tell me if i succeed: “But to hell with that, I though, I would remain and become a well-disciplined optimist, and help them to go merrily to hell. If i couldn’t help them to see the reality of our lives I would help them to ignore it until it exploded in their faces.”

i am guessing that is the latter?

that i mentioned or that god mentioned?

well, i guess they are the same in terms of what they meant to say. give the latter of gods mentioning the chance and he might of said something very similar.

perhaps, but listen to what the latter of whom i mentioned mentioned:  “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”

I see your point, but what if everyone did this? would this be peace? or would this be the same chaos, just a louder one with the clanging of gongs?

yes, i guess you are right, there is a sort of arrogance to give yourself the task of peeking and speeching.

and by result of consequence, picking.

true, selection is in itself arrogance.

as i said, everything is. so what is your point?

my point is that if everyone confronted their chaos and grabbed energy from the diffusion, we would have no need for prophets. but instead, everyone must seek this world for profit and qualify themselves when the words of the prophets hear their ears.

and that is why we should bemoan the fact that the US government is near the bottom of the list for financial aid to the lowly artist community?

ah, but there are businessmen like ourselves in hollywood who will hear out the artist to an extent.

true, look at the success of pixar.

but obviously we lack something, look at the failure of Nate Reuss.

Ah yes, “im trying to find truth in words and rhymes and notes, in all the things i wish i wrote”

“i’m not a prophet but i’m here for profit”

“Na na na na
Now at least the birds are singing to me,
but what they’re trying to say,
I don’t know.”

oh yes, “(you’re beautiful)
I think they come from the cold
(for all your big mistakes)
I think they come from the cold
(you stayed the same)
to the city that don’t snow.”

talk about supplanting yourself in an axiom.

at least we are planted in some axiom that mox a i and you and everyone equally.

but is about as useful as a pool of jello. we all dream that we can swim in it. but it cripples us as it delights us.

doesnt everything though?

true, the pastor with ten girls after his nuts knows that well enough.

but not enuff.

i guess youre ally is right. you really is right.

you mean you’re right.

on your right.


if you got through all of that, i commend you for it was not engineered for communication or sense. it was just kinda a recording of my own experiments with imagery.

i have been thinking a lot about arrogance though. and how arrogant i am. here is the essentials.

i was crying, (not actually teary eyed but its a good word for it) about my sickness. cause im so sick of being sick. and i got hit bad so i have spent 3 days reading and im still sick. sleeping 11 hours a day and i hate it. i feel like the 11 disciples so disciplined while im really more siding with the 1 hour of sleep, judas. anyways,

i was crying, trying to explain my realism to one of my listening selves who knows that victim kyle is also right kyle, no matter how many righteous kills it concedes.

well i killed everyone this time. i explained my entire situation to the cough syrup therapist, even going back into family history justifying why i am in this state of mobility. cough syrup therapist was actually some beautiful female at a party nodding at every profundity and laughing at all my jokes.

the ending statement was: and so i’m just not sure if i am a genius or not, that is why i dont do the things i think i should.

as my sober self, kicked out of bed to sleep on the floor heard that, he clambered up into bed and slapped himself silly.

the next day i got nothing accomplished. it was an utter failure thatasisatathought appeared reminding me of the night with my mind the night before. perhaps this is all because you’re such an asshole

maybe it’s cause the song was on in my ipod or because it had some significance. Life and Death was playing and I realized i loved nothing.

that is th point of my little dilogue: love. though it’s never stated.

the lyrics were so relevant to me then. i felt like a little boy reading scripture again. but i wasn’t afraid this time, of hell. there was no hell. and the scriptures there, written by a fellow man, sung so well. well, wells of tears rolled on in my eyes with the little stream of ucla below me. and i swear the rock jutting out of the stream with its red reeds at the bottom, was in the shape of a heart.

oh arbitrary symbol, our simple arbiter of the sylvan arrogant old.

the puns of life are the greek fire that moses found and a king jr. proclaimed.

they are as holy as that fortune cookie fortune i found cooking in my pocket. there it lies, alive, alighting the lies that life is nothing. “get away from home awhile to restore your energies” it said as i walked out my dorm to drive to my house to rest because im so damn sick.

i guess la is my home now. “the city that don’t snow”

but still i have this problem of arrogance. i have no reason to love. but i guess that is the problem. no love has any reason but itself. it is that blank face looking into the jaws of death. only blank because it will only cry if those jaws of death are around their lover.

christianity was right about one thing, that we all will die and so anything like yourself is totally pointless.

now for the question? what do i love:

oh wait, i think this is more right.

now for the question: what do i love?

but no, that’s right

now for the ? what do i :

bahaha, i call on my friends and family (colon: paranthetical)

so we still have this problem of the castle builders. am i tainting my view of friends by assigning it making an ass out of ourselves?

maybe, but i still feel the need to inform in a distracting way without detracting from inspiration as Ellison put it.

and i still feel i will learn to love again. but i guess i am still an asshole for now for some reason. i wish someone would save me… (hint hint woman, you don’t have to be to hot, just mean something meaningful or something)