The Wax Conspiracy

in other ages, equally ignorant, it was said an eternal fire would follow death

It was a canine interdiction dictated by necessity, when pooches were stripped from cold Muscovite streets, locked into unsafe safety modules, and (depending on how the Scooby Snax landed) blasted into orbital or suborbital orbits.

Best not to think about it. Feelings invert if you think too long on the last anguished moments of man’s best – the higher they went, etc., etc., etc. That said, there are resonances – Solaris was an ocean of gel, after all, where better to wallow? Just like a warm bath.

A planet is the cradle of the mind but one cannot live in the cradle forever. They said.

в другие века, столь же невежественные, говорили, что за смертью последует вечный огонь



What to make of Coppola, then? Wares, occhiali e lenti splendenti, nestled in the deepest pockets you’ve ever seen, and offered up with the cruel smiling face of a Hun alchemist.

What madness could force the epistolic form, could force that flurry of words from Nathanael to Lothar by way of Clara? & what to make of that abandoned duel?

Was the same madness that cleaved Nat from Clara that which now cleaves Nat to the automaton? Icy hands and icier hearts. An awkward silence develops, envelops.

Scheme and order.

in altre epoche, ugualmente ignoranti, si diceva che un fuoco eterno sarebbe seguito alla morte



Speaking in a Spanish gone Mexican, 1946, coasting past the post war years. Et Non Riverentum. L.B. knew it, at least as better as anyone else – not many others count as three ( or four if we count the 20th (twentieth) century) types of atheist.

Sure he poked F.F. right in the eye, flipping threesomes for incest, but it was with the same hand with which he crossed himself, even if backwards. The man was a Catholic, no doubt about it, That One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic
Tha one wit out a room and

[...] feel the same structuring absence, even as [...] drain the abscess.

I CROSS MYSELF IT DOESN'T HELP BECAUSE I'M NOT SMART ENOUGH
I CROSS MYSELF IT DOESN'T HELP

en otras épocas, igualmente ignorantes, se decía que un fuego eterno seguiría a la muerte



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Belvedere Jehosophat

Written on Monday, 1 February 2021

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The Wax Conspiracy

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