Waste light

This moon has landed

these clouds can only amplify where

many times they've been complicit

and the moon was surreptitious

this fullness illuminates the spectrum

engages against a magnetism

heart flares spit arcs of sentiment

gravity hovering between poles

the beacon demands the vigil

serene paralysis of waste light

light that cloys and begs unhinged

light that is itself a shadow

by Missy

Yes, that would be Phyllis.

You know how they say our genes predetermine our tendency to make the equivalent of a dog's bark or a bird's chirp spontaneously prompted by archetypal coding that makes the assumption that we are components of the same super-milieu in which we evolved? 

Evolution does not understand that one day, switching out one solid foundation of accepted reality for another can be as easy as turning the dial on an oracle dispenser. And then what does your body do—this goes for now without mentioning. 

What your mind does is continue to blurt out chirps and barks except in the language of the replacement super-milieu via the trans. Yes, that would be Phyllis. 

Phyliss does her best with what she has to work with, which is of course her own native Crackological "toolbox" of societal and environmental imperatives. 

Result being that her version is bound to be embarrassingly rough at best and diametrically contradictory to intent at not-yet-even close to worst. 

For example, maybe I'm in an anatomical phase where i can fit through the doors of a shiv joint with some colleagues from MPS. The imbibing and resting implements are close enough to my current physical iteration for me to make successful if awkward pairings with those devices. 

In fact it might all be going real merry until i suddenly interject, "I am soo worried about Jan. I see him buying into a delusion, and at the same time he struggles with it morally. He's is in real danger of getting swallowed whole by the Promotional Materials project. And that's a soul thing."

See how that, then, was beyond embarrassing and into concerning land, difficult person territory, not-a-fit-for-the-team ground. I believe as well that the outburst was seen as a welcome self-effing by at least one other editor present, the vivacious and hungry Smiling Gal. Gal was soon promoted after a coup de grace at the subsequent after-work drinks, during which she pointed out that my contribution to Anomalous Fluctuations at Santorabo Chank appeared to be plagiarized, albeit from another dimension. 

Now, i give you the next exemplar of Phyliss's good-faith attempts at channeling my primordial chirps and barks into language that is socially palatable, textually accurate, and environmentally feasible. You tell me: is my trans. busted?

Funny. I can't think of it. I can't remember anything. Bad memories only come to me now when they are unwelcome. I'm sure Phyliss is quite busy, and she'll get to my request at her soonest and my least opportune free moment. 

Jan Jansdaad
from: Post-Singularity Interview
Mthyuh Preservation Society

die, pendelabra

i didn't have a fire on but there was a flicker just

at the crest of the arch into the room we eat in

not a flame a shadow that a wave of heat makes

i said it's a concern if i'm hallucinating and it's a

concern if i'm not hallucinating unless there's a

third possibility out there a dimension overlap or

pretty sure that's what it was because it just now

happened again not a flicker but a loop-t-loo of

time place and being i could be anywhere right now

this could have been ten minutes ago or 10 later who

knows here i stand next to a dining table policing

prehistoric beasts a trillion moons away but still

is it an auditory or aural-ectopic phenomenon that's

going on now like a scratching [i scream here loudly]

a splash of fur and bare flesh who's also losing it's 

shit happens an arm's length before me and scrams

leaves its stench as well as a reason to grab a soap and

rag and that's where i get my warrant to drop poison

de: "Quien es Pendelabra"
en: Reflexiones Acerca de Un Duende Malicioso
por: LaChama de Santo Rabo
Phyllis [trans.]

"La Dance"

I got a private dance teacher to avoid complications with basic temple dancers. Who hasn't got a crazy dancer story, right? As an impounded virgin deity, there wasn't much i could do at all in fact except parade my tail, and it was already an actual tail by then, up and back on the wide ceremonial terrace overlooking the visitation gardens, as well as being looked upon by them, up and back as a living sacred frieze and moving avatar of the the scriptural pendulum of whatever 12 times up and back in a pyncofiber headdress twice my height. But after a session with Mkidza Mlaf, ancient mistress of the dance, i'm just like any proper temple sprite who lives to dance the dance to live the life of dance to dance the dance of dance hopping in place clapping my hands in honor of the teacher and to express an opposing pleasure to all the pain she has just inflicted. For her to see me now with prominent inter-speciel features increasing by the hour, i see her differently as well: my display of even a hallowed tradition meant to celebrate Mrs. La Mkidza is now to her a horror disgust offense. Why does Mkidza agree to suffer through these "master" classes that a common fleke girl could teach just as well—and with more empathy? Sure, gold coins, and many of them. But more than that it's the sacred power of the dance of the sacred power dancing the sacred dance of power the sacred dance of dances the dance to live a life of dance to have the power to love the power of life to live to dance the power to dance to live a life of power dancing the sacred power of dance. "My name is Mkidza Mlaf," Mrs. once said, "...and my kids are every child anywhere who doesn't know La Mthyuh."

Ch. XLV, "La Dance"

from: 

I, An Impounded Virgin Deity

by Reptily

Embedding the worst of recent language dev and reviving the stupidest words of the past

In the towering echo chamber of the cavern, Jan and Missy feel free to speak freely, even using meta-language to communicate about communication itself, by means of their minds only. 

Every time i glance at the common oracle and see the ad about the shiv stones, i get measurably upset: just look at my enzymes! Clouds never lie. Firstable, the marketing Jans wanted to represent diversity, so they chose a fleke, fine, you hear the romantic accent, you see the pale skin, it's diverse. But then they have her use that lovely accent on a word that doesn't even exist, even though she might not as an actress even be aware that it does not exist. It is likely in fact that when she heard the word, it was unfamiliar. But your go-to as an L2 speaker isn't "that word doesn't exist," you know? Who are you to say it doesn't exist. You are the least likely employee to question authority in the best possible job and circumstance to question authority. Do you see?

I really like your nails. 

Not this time, sweetheart. Someone's got to hear me out on this, and if not a fellow warm-blooded bi-species avian-reptile people-eater, then whom?

I think it's who.

Really even if it's in reference to a category of one i don't know. Another example when grammar only serves to inhibit communication. 

Meta-grammar maybe. 

See? You want to change the subject. 

Because i don't want to hear about some ad you saw?

No. Because i want to reflect on the impact of that commercial effort on my senses of dignity and reality. You are especially dissociative because the conversation will inevitably end up being hot coal-chunks like species, gene topography, and inclusion. 

I think they're calling it SIG-T now, so species, inclusion, and gene topography. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oww. That was deliberately and aggressively passive aggressive. Lidderly i can't even hear now. And we're covered with ancient guano dust from up top the cavern. 

I'm just going to start, and you'll probably get into it. 

That's what i'm afraid of. 

You know that phrase you hear flekes say "If you can't take the shiv, then you can't take the shiv, but if you take the shiv, then you can take the shiv and live, Hank?"

Please don't sing it. And don't call me Hank.

Well, these moronic marketing wiz-bags decided they had to once again randomly change the preserved language into a cuter catchier stupider form that might positively affect sales but neither edify nor insult any further than that. 

I've seen the ad. She's selling shiv stones by a sea shore. What do you expect? They change Hank to Jan. I know. It's not the same. I think Hank also sounded too much like yank. For the kids.

Oh, not only that. Now, every average fleke, and then all of their generations, will start to say Jan and not Hank. That's how the whole Jan problem got started. 

Then flekes will start naming their children Jan or Jan Jansdaad, Jr. or Jan Jansdaad XLV. Then flekes will still continue gene-topographically to be flekes while taking on more and more the interloper culture along with its values along with no special value assigned to flekes. 

They won't even know who Hank was and what he represented. 

...

That's something they should know but not necessarily something that i know. 

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Phyliss [Trans.]

Does can Peggy speak to men

Jans are most afraid of a face that's vacant a face that to its owner is a forgotten asset

Those Ks that on approach can project at least a happy or upside-down happy face

Will be granted the highest honors for their sacrificial hunger and self-hygiene practices

Beast: if your face is vacant and you choose to approach these towns, bear down your lip

Focus targets early and carry on with a plan always asking can i get enough to make it worth

If not this then in 10,000 generations you will get a whiff and cometh again sniffing around

Maybe you'll find a house in Jansdaadbad with a broken roof whip up some high winds

Make it look like another crazy nature fluke tornado carries off nursery rhyme gone bad

Toddler reads to self as father disappears through damage never to return in living plaid

This is only one way to gather your men who make the strongest nests with their bones

If not never then in 100,000 generations you'll just as soon have cast aside such pursuits

After 99,999 but enter then a glade of freshened expectations and gentler recreations

We must first of all as a group establish ourselves among this world and Crack-wide

More than the horrific stinkers of lore and indeed a think tank of keratinized epidermis

Ks take glory in the fullness of fulfilling up to but no more than our allotted kill

Attributed to La Pegyuh

"Ks Fly Spread Eagle" [frag.]

Thousand Moons Festival Call to Prayer 
Thousand Moons Village, Fridgeporcherator Chank

Phyllis [trans.]

Extravasation of liability

Two archetypal nightmares, one evolving and the other transforming, cavort among the bone piles and charnel buckets and try new looks in a vast, thickly karsted blast cavern deep into Dubbaberah Chank lands. They have until a dung beetle can traverse the length of a date palm during which one star, and then the next, will provide enough light to prepare to solemnly silently and symbolically preside over a session of the Extravasation of Liability Council which must by code be held in the shadow of at least one K bitch. There is no common mirror large enough for Jan or Missy, who've taken to hanging out in the evening during hunger hours to distract one another from the hunger and to provide a mirror for the other by communication in authentic language, but through their minds only. 

Ok i am feeling that cute dress but the sunglasses ok i guess if yr going to wear sunglasses they may as well be in the shapes of hearts. 

See? And they stay on because even tho they are made with stadium poles and satellite dishes my hygienist at Friends' Hangar weaves them into my pyncofibers which lets me swivel'm up to perch on my ocular hood. 

That's nice for you. My issues these days are with sweat pants. The Sisters of Mthyuh spent months churning out this pair for example but it really binds above the hip bone and may inhibit normal peristalsis. Too bad an entire species of rubber tree went extinct just to result in an elastic waistband that doesn't meet the demands of give and take throughout the feeding cycle. The sisters've made me two other pairs, the product of more than 8,000 labor hours. One opened a pocket hole after the second sea wash, and the legs so long i almos tripped and took a dive into Fridgeporcherator Chank Canyon, and they's gators down there. 

That's what happens when you go out of your way to comply with outrageously cynical and degrading modesty directives having ceded your own sacred powers of life and death to those you could have eaten. 

It's worse than that. It's not just the Preservation Society. We are not compatible with the throngs of Jans and Flekes who have taken over this ecosystem. 

I think it's time we call a Moment of World Stoppage. 

Ha no one's done that since the grown childless strike during Same Moons. 

We must call a Moment of World Stoppage, the flekes must don their sacrificial hats, and we must demonstrate the power we've had all along: fashion-forward population flyovers. 

You mean over-population. 

Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Phyllis [Trans.]

provocateur

 

Foto: Vikki de Chaneque

organic provocateur

Jan and Peg splay their hips across many acres of swamp grass and feel the cool relief on their teats as they chat propped up on their wing knees in a vast wetlands valley near Chaneque de Primavera Eterna Chank. Every moons passed with Peg is exponentially fractalizing to her understanding of identity, community, grift, graft, metamorphosis, and species. La Pegyuh, in turn, is fascinated by a fellow K who was once and can still be a trans-Crack human woman. They take in the light birdsong and whistling breezes as they communicate in a common language but with their minds only. 

as something akin to a dinosaur am i an organic provocateur   

you mean are you innocent

is that what i mean? it was just a question

if you want to find out an answer it is appropriate to pose the question and the answer is this: yes your appearance alone relative to that of your average heathen beholder is enough to agitate if not strike terror

how about horror

that too

i noticed that the gentlemen in particular react first with rage and then a sort of kill or flee dichotomy

and the women

mostly they go with reason and earnestness and give body language that's not threatening but it depends if there are kids around

and after they figure out they're not going to die?

even as their breathing and heartrates settle their hatred seems to increase 

how do you know?

they become transparently passive-aggressive all genders be signifying shunning trying to shut down the hygiene hangars you know the drill

My seeks are chunken

My dear concudant:

I miss a summer with the coling of stogne on men who easily go along. Remember?

Covered the stank of lake fish city night hot park. Did we throw a carcass in the water?

Stop touching yourself and listen now: There's reason to believe it lived. 

There's been a hicken chopping around on a leg nobody wanted. Is it a punishment?

Lead deaves instead of feathers stick to the grease and bone and his wings 

Never did more than fignify slight abstractly. 

You see, i am chat thicken. My seeks are chunken. Enife is the lemy. 

Meaning life when gou're yone: Soaring peeing seeking and encountering altercations. 

from: 

Obin Boders, K Stud

to: Ms. Missy Rangey

World dominion = multiculturalism everywhere

The lottery pod is out of order and i'm

still busted from the last draw meaning

what was drawn from me not by me

I would draw a foundation for the earnest

to develop skills of dishonesty 

pork barrel gas light all the fallacy types

If not the jackpot then a chance to be a father

just to deeply breed mistrust in a beloved

readiness to love and fight fight love fight

I still feel the loss of my freshness seal 

like a plague mask shielded interlocutors

from the perils of full-on intercourse 

World dominion = multiculturalism everywhere

= monoculturalism = now = way back when =

later = i still can't win = life = narrative

Phyllis

Tonight's dogless dogwalk

cobweb, result and cause of manic ruminations

I got my hat on

I got my ginger mint my sucky stick my telephone

No more do i require a leash or harness

I walk alone

dwell, to live in exist or stay too long

I'm sitting down

This is how i pay collect a debt or debenture

My legs may serve to find a new serenity

Away from all this furniture

axenic, free of other lines that might compete

I'm in my head

Sometimes my heart cries out for intervention then

Just when i close the loop and think i'm done

I start again

— Chez Zeus-Krost

intimate definitions

Jan and Peg are relaxing in shallow pools in the shapes of their relax-print in the glacier pools of ice that melts beneath their bodies as they lay on the glacier chatting and spritzing one another playfully with Friends' Hangar Hygiene Spray. The containers of spray are attached to the industrial tanker vehicles they'd had so much fun chasing up the highway and plucking up into their beak-mouths earlier that day if you are measuring on a time-based system. The tiny intense sun feels crackly on their pycnofibers and inside their ears where they are trying to hear each other speak with their minds only. 

So ya that's what Jans is all about: huckster. It's hucksterism. They all be selling or wanting to sell they little products that's the business aspect like freedom to go ahead and try and hock craft flip what you want to and say whatever you want to about it with as few regulations as possible to make as many gold coins as you can and get the hell out. That spells liberty. And shore, religion is right up in there they say La-LaChama id-dah richest pan-gendered deity in na-known Crack. Ain nobody up in her vajraja books. They barely aware of her published statements.

I like your nails.

Oh thanks. 

...

You know what i think about nails... Ya there's about a gallon of exterior house paint on each one of these doll but they did come out good. Painted nails make three statements one you can have this. Your bright color nails say yes you can have this and how do you know because i am advertising it. I am decorating the hell out of my own body like it's on a shelf and ready to be sold girl. Two the nails they can also say you can't have this. And i want you to remember that and i want it to hurt a little. Look at this highly decorated and must be highly valuable body o mine. The answer is no. But you and i both know the question baby. Three they say look sure you can look and you should look who wouldn't. Just that for now, but for sure i want you to have a look and think for yourself on can you have can you not have this. 

I like number three the i can look. 

Oh you don't wanna have this?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Jan and Peg's shattering cry-laughing creates mini-avalanches at the edges of the ice shelf and a mini-roiling of the sea waters. As their laughter dies down, or as the reason for their laughter dying down, they both recall a moment of special intimacy in a hot geyser pool thousands of moons in the distance and wonder if the other is also remembering not being able to tell exactly if the memory is their own or a mind-only transmittal of language further to their conversation or? They look at one another sideways.

Say, do you re

Stop. Just stop there.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Phyllis [Trans.]

La vajraja and the love of the vajraja vajra rajas of love above

La LaChama has fled the underground jail pit in tears and retreated to her cloister after the confrontation with her split-yolk Reptilly. Still able to breath though not without effort deep in the mantle of the planet Peg has opened the jail door and helped her godchild Reptily out into the open cavern to rest on a bed of fresh hemp branches. They are able to see in complete darkness and speak with their minds only. 

When i was cry dancing and slamming my body into the iron restraints of your treacherous jail was that a cynical charade meant only to hurt the two of you as deeply as possible?

Silly. Only you know the answer to that question. It did occur to me though that you wanted us to feel as jarred and frightened as you were feeling. 

But what i wanted is for you to understand. Remember that i am essentially naive and believe that understanding leads to acceptance even if it must be beaten into me.

Reptily-ily you express a sentiment shared and passed down as a genetic disorder by your own generations. You've never experienced corporal punishment as wrong, even while it is going on? 

I've never experienced corporal punishment as wrong, even while it's going on, just as i would never let the meaning lead the rhyme nor push the meter beyond the time nor drop a message in the wine. 

I know that you know that i know you are dissociating. 

But why do i do that?

La LaChama, for example. Why is she no longer stringing marigolds and gifting them to pilgrims' necks?

You know why. She was more like gifting herself marigolds and stringing their necks. 

What did she believe about the pilgrims. 

That they must be saved for Mthyuh even at the end of a whip or from within a bruising squeeze. 

I saw her once leading a group through the moons festival ground. She was so much taller than any of them, even with the way she stooped. She clutched a matted yak shawl around her shoulders and operated a whistling bamboo rod in the other fist. She herded them like meat goats inflicting visible defense wounds on their arms and fingers. 

Right, she is safer to society after the abduction by prayer. Now she can focus on the more esoteric aspects of lavajraja. 

The love of lavajraja. 

La lavajraja that is love and is of love a lavajraja loving the love of the vajra from love and from the love of the vajarja vajra rajas of the rajas of love above... 

Amen.

MOFO

back when you were functional

i stole your tylenol

because i found it plausible

that your tormentor, my uncle

would find himself in pain

he'd go looking for the bottle

among his stash of wolfbain

under ottoman and table

in the effing baby's cradle

until he'd think and say my name

but ya this is a parable

and of course i feel terrible

and should have known full well

that mofo'd go and take it out on you

that pain can be transferable

by Jan

How outcasts become snobs

La LaChama and Peg have trapped Reptily in an underground cage. LaChama of course is a yolk-split of Reptily meaning they used to be the same. 

Peg, a genuine queen, was there fronting a crinkly black cape in her most Jan-like wo-manifestation:

PEG (tilting head): We have you together with us now darling so why not see if we can make the most of it.

REPTILY: Make the most of this! My head spine can grow long enough to pike you right through these ridiculous iron bars. 

LACHAMA: She is our godmother. 

REPTILY (spitting): Shhpht. Your petty associations. I am a monster!

PEG: My poor darling. Let's sit.

LACHAMA (sitting): I love you sister.

REPTILY (cry-dancing throwing her body against the bars iron ceiling rock floor of the restraint breaking a collar bone and a quasi-kneecap cry-yelling): Please just leave me here to die!

PEG (sitting and weeping): We are all grown now. The only power we have over you is those bars. We would prefer to take you in our arms. 

REPTILY (short harsh doglike breaths): ...

Phyliss [Trans.]

olive drab

It was not pre-weathered

I weathered it 

As i myself weathered

Now me and it

At ease & unfatigued

Avail ourselves

To answer The Question

& we find there's

Nothing to figure out

Brief appearance

Questions arose as to how any high-end power much less the greatest power of all could at the same time be called or be trusted to be a good power

Before we could even arrive at the be good v do good debate we had to define good and soon a bunch of us had nodded off on the potent vines of Dhubba Berra Chank

That's when her meaty tail smashed through the stone wall of our dorm and we didn't even think it was a hurricane because no power matches the rage of a K bitch 

Because we are a moral species like dogs we remind ourselves not to blame her for being herself acting in accordance with her primaeval mission 

The conscience of one species may randomly overlap with another but the universe is a place of blotting not stroking condensing and scattering not planning and building

Our whole concept of improvement of oneself or otherwise was confirmed as stupid while we screamed and begged and choked on dust and the funk of the beast

The more of our brothers we saw dead the more we ourselves felt responsible for their tragedy not fortunate to have avoided it

Like the hugest possible period at the end of a sentence once she had achieved a level of saturation in terms of deconstruction she quietly shat

from: The Socio-Politically Recovered Texts of Mthyuh & Co

She started out smiling way too big so big that some couldn't keep looking

Now we can be shocked in another way still more disturbing

You see her purse her lips and shrink her mouth with muscles not oft used

It hurts a lot but not from gravity of topic which could never disabuse

Her of the smile a smile bigger than one would think anatomically possible

A smile taking up perhaps 40–48% of the face that's visible

Ya it's a shame a lady of LaVajra has to be a politician 

Which interrupts her nirvanic rhythm

Especially whilst being shamed for her bliss

Her mouth is a reminder of Mthyuh's hungry maw

And we should only thank her for this

Our journey homeward is mapped to her craw

The next moment after realizing she was immortal

It was La Chama's first moment as well after all

An involuntary spasm of compassion and responsibility toward all life rose in her heart

Even for a nephew who said she'd been admired far more than she played the part

To Missy it was love sustained her up to the beginning

When from the jetsam of burst chrysalis stepped forward a leader darkly grinning

from: "Heroic What Now? LaChama's Post-Crack Propagandists"
from: The Socio-Politically Recovered Texts of Mthyuh & Co
Franz Gressive Stone Press, Chukkachank
Phyliss [Trans.]

My Trip to a Place Where I Am Gone

As we learned in the Shampoo Wars a sudsing agent is not the same as a cleansing agent 

but after watching Reptily swim-crying in a bottom-lit tureen among thick

garbanzo shuck at a mock-cannibalistic pride event

i realized that a career is an arc even perhaps the upper half of a round

the bottom portion of which you spend under water or under ground

first being relieved of any bioburden

then sudsed cleansed returned right-side up to the pearl you started in

there are prayer wheels spinning instead of bicycle rims at twice the din

this must be the first place on the journey my good deeds've packed for me

this shadowbox of a town heaving all its energy direct to the abysmality

the ends of every street rise against the horizon

as if these intersections of temples plinths pools ghats 

existed only within a black dot

but still perhaps too much to love and administer mindfully

or can an anti-career yield kinetic powers due to the addition of gravity?

from "Notes from Beyond: My Trip to a Place Where I Am Gone"
Dr. Donna Thong
Journal for the Institute of the Meta-Cognitive Talk Therapy Apologist Movement

people black and girl power

after a long pause in the combat department we find you putting up your dukes again how do you feel about that

i'm glad i've still got the dukes for putting up as needed

but isn't the real test in the delivery

yes and thanks for your reminder

there's that way they press the backs of one another's gloves together and also touch heads as a sign of respect and good sportsmanship

even though it's not sport

you've often commented on 

and there's frequently not much respect involved at all but don't get me started look i'm still mourning the Death of Shab 

...

i think i see her i still step gingerly so as not to upset her and strangely often speak to her as well right baby? hi hi hi hi whatcha doin? lala lalala lalalalala

mmm mmhmm

so having to prep and gird once again for institutional thuckfuggery may feel harsh but it may also get my proteins and enzymes whatever at more optimum levels break through the fatigue of grief

do you mean LaLa

ya of course Shab was her prototype but he'll not die soon

or ever really

correct now there's one with the battle fatigue and the heavy weight of the ages weighing on his empty saddle and the backbone that cannot withstand more pressure

but if it breaks he'll still not die

correct

he wouldn't heal entirely from that but it doesn't matter because he just changes the rules from any point that suits his evolving if disfiguring corporeal state. He updates our expectations rather than depending doggedly on ancient texts for example

he accommodates his disability into a relic of the Divine Unknowing and increases follower hits

right but we're not just talking about courtesy accommodations he can change the foundational principals upon which he and all of us have always operated under and from there down through to instruction manuals and daily shiv novenas

one difficult deity can shake the entire pantheon 

they say this power does not necessarily spring from good judgment or measured action

in his case yes that's obvious they say it is a random power

they say it is a dangerous power

they say it is a hypnotic power

they say it is a power among powers

they say he is powerful with or without power

they say he owes no one an explanation of his powers

they say the word power is insufficiently representative of this level of power

they say it is a power leaked across boundaries by his ancestors

they say it is a power he somehow inherits from his descendants who do not yet live

they say that power herself envies his particularly intense force of power

they say that even a deity will starve on power alone but what more does he have besides power yet he does not starve

they say it is an unsettling power a power too great for a single source

they say it is a power that laughs at attempts to describe its power

they say it is a power that has compassion for individuals though may be fickle at the same rate as anyone

they say it is a power that is impossible to contain exploit manage distract destroy

they say it is a power greater than language itself which is already greater than explosives

they say it is a power to which the only option is surrender

they say it is a power so powerful as to be indifferent to obedience

they say it is a power that sensing flattery will turn away so furiously as to cause the sycophant to implode

they say it is a power for whom supernatural physical mystical judicial administrative people black and girl power are not mutually exclusive but rather just a few of the categories available to the holder of this all-encompassing power

Phyllis [trans.]

Drombs bopping on d'po

Drombs bopping on d'po

alms scaduh donda flo

caint git change foa dolla no mo

cain goeda wurshi poda place will blo

Fo poke beggin ondeyneeze

Rich foke due in what deypleeze

Middafoke ackin like deyaint got tea

Gahdoan ansa buddy allway see

by Missy

Dear dodge

Dear Dodge

You like to go around ramming your head into things don't you. You are like a goat. Who is neither playful nor aggressive just very rammy. Has long given up bothering to question it. Look at your eyes with the rectangular smudges for pupils. You have a free pass to insanity.

Re: Death of LaLa, turns out the soul sure it's great but does require electricity to operate. I think the whole school of molecules of carbon whatever carry the spirit intact to another place where it can then be rehydrated integrally have lost their case. And what would be the meaning of having a soul in outer space or without containment in flesh. Is the soul not rhetorically, culturally and environmentally enmeshed with the experiences of a closed-body, one-planet existence? Even after consummating its state of perfection in a graft with the godhead, what then would a soul do what purpose would it serve. The whole concept of purpose would be stupid. Even being itself is rendered ridiculous.

Is that your deal? Are you like already passed over and bored as shit? 

In a higher ring of heaven perhaps you could hinge in with the total mind, so that your brain would be the entire universe, and that would be soothing or one would hope. Or soothing is a body-contained experience only and a free mind would be happy just thinking and shutting off its corporal support functions, double down on sensory and recreative voyeurism. 

Or not because the senses? Also a contained-in-body reality. Curiosity as well undoubtedly. 

The only other option would be at the very highest level, being and knowing everything. Which could happen without a corpus but sounds challenging and burdensome. And of course, why?

In this moment and place, my love is yours.

Donna

Pandolora

In the exhilaration of the final stages of flowering

Hermaphroditism can creep out from between the folds

Her male structures burst upon herself and any nearby 

Sisters

Pandolora do you cry? Why do you cry

You have taken back the reproductive process

Even though you yourself were merely a 

Clone

The stress in your environment, not your life choices

A mechanism for spreading pollen to your generations

Supersedes genetic pre-decisioning and intended commercial

Purpose

por Sto. Rabo

Sadness of the harvest

it should of never had happen

ho reason is come t'dis

izza orbiduf d'planets

if we had some moons to keep warm all year

not tyrant stars that care not who we are

we'd have more room to plant and grow my dear

lunar together travelling far

i saw about moonlight 

onna inuhneh an i 

fell in luh thinkinuh

moonlight is a freak light it's a re-light not a true light mind

more moons would make the night a verdant brite-lit kind

enough for us to leave the stars and all their fire behind 

moonlight onna inuhneh

freak like an immigruh

soun like a typo luh

no true flower is too flower-like no true home needs starlight

we used to be so burdened by the laws of nature are a lie

let's chart our own course thru the universe moons at our side

love that take away erythang

ner give it back

juss wen yr ship comin in, comin in

to keep you grateful love at harvest time someone must die

death sweeps you in its wings to the re-knowing of impermanence

and leaves you high and dry unlike a tropic island paradise 

take R moons an go

grab some mo on d'way

harviss ery day

[Trans. note: 
For the longer verses, think choral samba; shorter ones, a slow tom-tom. -Phyllis]

Vines overtaking brutalist architecture

We have to live in a place where people with a lot of shit want to

wave it in your face. 

Me have no plans for these moons minutes seconds to come besides

occupying space.

Freedom's not to run to roam not to walk away or come on home or

keep up with a pace.

Inscription 4, scrawl, buccal to hinge
MPS-supervised excavation of Illyn's Diving Board site
Phyllis [trans.]

the prayer itself is an answered prayer

the prayer itself is an answered prayer

an oath reaches the air and wondering

if the mountain is listening

all the mixes of genes and genders

trickle upward rendered by flame 

disappear just the same

mother coughing up sweet poison

rings of voice on narrow ambitus

with Ilyn and his abacus

the prayer interrupts the transition

our mission remains at the border

in the naked disorder

from: LaChama Confronts LaVajraja
Preservation Society Collection
Phyllis [trans.]

Tranny whatchya got?

you know whatchr, you know whatchr you know whatchr

gonna get a little of, girly get a little of, get a little of, girl

you know whatchr gonna get, gonna get a little of 

from our God above.

boy oh boy i betcha caynt i betcha caynt you cayn't guess

whatchr prezzie's gonna be oh boy, oh boy this prezzie is

the biggest biggest thing you ever seen oh boy a prezzie

from our God above. 

tranny tranny tranny whatchya gonna be? you a tranny that's

a very plain to see oh tranny tranny tranny are you granpa

or a granny whatchya got whatchya got tranny what you got

from our God above?

[Traditional.]
Dirty Hymns of the MPS Era

Phyllis [Trans.]

algorithmic brank

Phramsupply had developed an algorithmic brank that would allow or force others to go back and relive painful uncomfortable controversial contested incriminating moments in your past even if you yourself had no desire to do so. Their fair use claim amounted to the regulatory availability of all of your behavior conducted in the Open Domain which meant outside of content deliberately prepped and vetted for release to the public oracle dispensers, which of course would upon release also become Open Domain as well as intentionally pre-published for all time and all purposes. 

This meant that both private and public entities with private and public monitoring and recording operations could negotiate the content of your entire life since The Crack without your knowledge or participation. This would never do of course especially for those who could afford to stop it. This is what led to the Federation of Jansdaad Dads' (FJD) notorious assassination of  Mthyuh Preservation Society Pilgrim General Chang K. Chang at Chang K. Chang Chank during Same Moons since many Same Moons now. 

From: Statement

Missionaries of Same Moons 
Phyllis [trans.]

My associations prevent me from any movement at this time

My associations prevent me from any movement at this time

Haha! I'm just asking you to get yr ass off my pijama soze i can put it on

And I'm telling you i have associations with moving my ass that are painful

Oh i thought you meant like your associations like friends affiliate joiny-join groups...

Don't get me started on friends and groups they all have horrifying associations

Horrifying soze i can have my pijama

In that if i move if i move toward an object i start to receive visions and those visions are flashbacks of horrifying experiences with the object

So it's not the objects really but what they remind you of

Associations

Uh huh. Pijama?

Let me ask you are you ready to move toward a fresh horror

No i don't like that

Then why not find a different pijama because i can accept it where it is now

Then i should try an also accept it, is that it

One way to move is to move on in a conversation

Ima move your face in a minute

I understand that you love me so your threats are more like caresses

For someone who is scared shitless you seem too randy

Don't get me started on randy

Tell me this do you also have horrific associations with moving away from rather than toward objects

No receding objects diminish fractally in terms of threat

I am going to walk backwards while you toss me my pijama

Sonic remnant trace dump SX0007
Location: Bedroom, Recovery Lodge F, Lip of Mthyuh
Thought to be: Jan Jansdaad's former husband Jan and unknown female
by Phyllis [trans.]

sloping mowed public grass

sloping mowed public grass

rectangle visible from the sky

dips and drains to embrace flooding

pulls in light public flotsam

which earns a municipal mulching

mown to fodder for new layers 

there should have been an intervention

aimed at the plague in the upper tips 

of the oldest circle of growth in the district

planted for ritual meaning or use

by native savages or civilians turned savage

where foxes and children ne'er do play

due to the border owners and their brutes

who claim and guard the plot complicitly 

participate in de facto no-trespass 

by Mike Worker
Table 6 
Shouting Moons Poetry & Crafts Festival

To burn the shiv

Basically what you're handling is a thing that's on fire, a living thing that's dying in the fire. Few have seen the tiny flammable animals that get trapped in the sea garbage and hauled ashore to burn as shiv. 

The immolation of innocence then turns out to be a central factor in so much of lavajraja. 

We don't know that these creatures are innocent only that they are helpless to escape our will. 

And that they seem to be born to be set on fire and smoked in a pipe. 

Yes. 

And that it's no coincidence that the molecules of their carbonated flesh connect with unique nirvanic receptors in cross-species administration by inhalation, sublingually or crammed into orifices. 

It seems that way. 

Of course who even thinks about it? Right. Hardly anyone. 

They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh

You were saying that you feel estranged from your own tribe because you believe that they are not able to fully decode comprehend some of the physical characteristics of your face that have developed over time

Age lines gone develop over time on anyone i'm talking about unexpected lines and even deeper structural changes that are not expressed in any of my blood relatives.

And you believe that these changes have been the result of your lived experience

Right, because my predestined trajectory was corrupted and has continued to become so in a dizzyingly fractalizing pattern. My experience has been so different than lidderly any of the Jans ever. 

Jan, i'd like you to reflect on something, and i want you to take your time to respond. Remember that you are in a circle of safety and respect here. 

What is it?

When you say that your experience has been so different, i wonder what examples come to mind, examples of experiences, perhaps, that set you so dramatically apart, as you describe it, from your family and peers in the Chank Lands? 

You are standing at the top of a gigantic scaffolding braced against the face of a high cliff. You have to hold on to a railing to avoid being brushed away by the wind from my nostrils. All that just so that you can look into my face as we speak. I can dart out my tongue and have you whole way in the back of my throat to savor all day if i wished. 

Is that what you would want to do? 

See what i mean? You wonder if i might ingest you. Doesn't make for fun family occasions. 

Well, give me an example. Because apart from what you've just pointed out, i don't feel estranged from you at all. And we just met. 

Ok, i was out on a festival day just soaring not bothering anyone except that i had to drop excrement and there was no way i was going all the way out to sea because I had to be by my Jans for lunch. So there was a nice anonymous patch of green grass aim fire done. 

K's are notorious for dropping dung on undesignated sites. And it was festival so you didn't do the laughing cry, i assume. 

Right. So i get to my Jans and Jan's like never mind we're not going. I'm like what do you mean not going where. She says ya we were gonna have a picnic but some mthyuhfarking K just dunged up the whole park. The tables are completely buried. Alls you can see is a flagpole sticking up there where the field office was. 

Ah, yes, that does sound like a very good example of what you're talking about. Delightful! 

It's one of my favorites. I love to tell that one. She was sobbing so hard but she held out the palm of her hand to signal that i should not come near to comfort her. 

She cried not for the spoiled picnic, but for the devastating toll your genetic path has taken upon your most elemental networks and interfaces. 

Devastating i don't know about that. 

Certainly profound. 

Ya, i'm surprised you would say devastating i had you tagged more as your difference has widened the diversity of the family or just one more aspect of someone they love etc. 

That's what i meant. Of course. And you? How do you see it?

Sobbing is surrender. They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh. I am not the reality police-- i don't have to be. My presence alone jars one into submission: to me, and therefore to lavajraja.

I'm a peacock on a road

it's taken a while, but the good memories are coming on

all that cement, and then the stone, scorpions poisoned springs

there were words that were pictures of another tongue

i think of the smiling faces among the barbed warnings

a subset of the females was eager to bring you in

they could announce their thirst with bright scarves whereas the men

were so undercover you might mistake them for border patrol guys

working an angle down at the same bar as the wandering eyes

off the same parking lot as the hooptie-tel and the vittle grill 

you can get your mom across or get off with your cousin's boss

there's dim lights and cold drinks like any dive in the heat sink

a private betting parlor more than a moment to think for a wayside crawler

there's a highway runs through

but it cuts us in two

there's a bridge, but it's costly to use

i'm a peacock on a road

you're the last horned toad

in a place that only we knew

by Silvia

Shouting Moons

The Shouting Moons are simply whichever moon or moons are prominent at the time of the regulatory shouting, which is always conducted during Days of Destruction, which can be announced at any time by the Mthyuh Preservation Society.  

Important shimmering of the regulatory codex happens between partisan representatives either in different parts of heavily wooded areas or at the edges of adjacent cliffs or even sometimes in abandoned bone nests, which can hang from the cliffs as long as the rock can hold them. 

K's peering from the occupied nests lounging in caves or soaring above keep mostly quiet during Days of Destruction. Legend holds that the festival was designed for that reason: to hypnotize Mthyuh's hosts.

They wanted and needed to hypnotize K's not to have a big party but so that they could get done all the doables they couldn't do as random prey owing to the burdensome and costly precautions they had to take in order to take turns in an orderly fashion to calculate who can have a chance to be eaten next, and so on. 

Plus, even a single K's earsplitting HAHAHA and its wingspan against the sun, creating temporary climactic changes and blinding darkness, all of that had an effect on overall sanity, even of pets, and this was the most caring respectful traditional way possible to get Ks to just stop. 

Flekes themselves of course don't make critical inquiry upon their own generational habits and mostly consider the rather low chance of a violent, live blood sacrifice the least of their worries. The specter of living to a very old age is the greater terror.

The partisan fleke representatives shimmer the codex during the Shouting Moons from forest meadow to forest meadow or cliff to cliff and they must conduct the regulatory negotiations only by shouting back and forth as loudly as they can. This tends to keep the messages short and heartfelt. They all know the festival is only a weekend long. But they have needs, which tend to be generously met if they can get them across and back again, sometimes heavily depending on the winds. 

The partisan fleke representatives must wear very bright robes as a sign that they are vulnerable and evocative to Ks and that their spiritual duties always come first. Again, these details are not on their minds at all. It's just another day for them. Some might find all of this fascinating and even life changing if they ever sat down to reflect on or read about it if, no that isn't fair: reading's not a thing for them. Maybe they might talk about it with another fleke on a break or, it is said, share it with their faces only. 

During the Shouting Moons it's very important that you remain as still and quiet as possible. Ks nodding out during DoD can wake up. The whole idea is that everyone cooperate at this time, even guests. Allow Mthyuh's hosts to feel the tingling in their spines and pyncos. They say the regulatory shouting first started when the early flekes figured out how to distract a K for a few minutes by shouting at it simultaneously from adjacent hilltops. Eat me first! That is how that famous chant became part of the fleke daily parlance, especially during volca, when one may shout out Eat met first! and it's never a non sequitur. This wish must be at front of mind. 

More on the communicative skillset

They seem to show one another their teeth and the insides of their mouths a lot. Does this contribute to their violence. 

They're expressing themselves or sending a message. 

False messages with their teeth. How do you know when they'll attack?

You really don't but you have to also send messages with your facial plates and central mouth.

So complicated much more than if i would just be feeding them to Mthyuh.

Our objective is more sophisticated and social not nutrition.

I'll call it diplomacy. For this i can learn their false language. To serve lachama. 

Remember they also know how you taste. 

Yes after cooking. Or they walk around using our scalp thorns as penile implants.

This is the place to air those grievances for now. With me. And thorn farms come from barns and cause no harm.

They come from barns these thorns how so. 

Think sponge sores that grow on cairns or warts on toes. They rear your horn cells in rows and harvest them like corn.

An attempt to talk missy down

Why is it that you lack the basics of physics and so much else?

I went to MPS school. They said our regular subjects were permanently suspended due to end of days. 

The days had already ended? 

Well no silly then it would all be moot. 

Do they still say that in MPS school? 

I don't know. I am here to escort a flock to the end of days. Without looking back.

A flock of. 

Pilgrims. All are welcome but few would survive long without knowing how to work the scripture. 

The pils are born for that. 

They say i was too but i'm a free agent now. Yeah. I take the stipend but that's all. 

Not every crospee gets that. 

Depends on what it is you're half of. Same as all the flekes get. 

That's how they work it. 

Ya. 

You sort of look like a frail old giraffe. 

Well. You have to pay to get here, and my youth was all i had. 

How can i follow you if yer looking back Hank.

Where you wanna go Joe.

I donno yor a taxi not a beacon?

Just another guy on the path Jack.

Then what was all that training for.

I can see the path can you.

No but i don't believe in a path i wanna believe in you.

That's yor issue Sue. 

You seem so smug despite heading for the edge Jed.

Someone's got to occupy the borderlands Jan. 

by Phyliss, embedded [trans.]

Tomorrow at Dawn

The deceased asks that you permanently destroy all and any evidence that this funeral or her life ever took place. Please respect her eternal privacy at this time and for all time. 

If you purchased clothing or jewelry for this day, be so kind as to drop it into the furnace shoot near the exit of mausoleum, which is only a pop-up shop and will disappear also with no trace immediately after the close of services. 

Remember that Donna spent her last living moments trusting you and taking comfort in your pre-mortem agreements. 

How can you be held accountable? There are no lawyers. By your conscience. Idiot. 

That's it? 

Yes what do you think. 

I think you're not dying any more than anyone is. 

And while there are those who'll care...

They won't care more than they would for another bloke. 

This is precisely why I don't think they'll mind signing on.

It doesn't help insulting them in the end does it?

That is my projected answer if any participant touches the How Can I Be Held Accountable icon.

Wouldn't you touch it out of curiosity?

Sure, I'd wonder how she'd had the spunk to assume we'd ask that question, especially if our signatures were so important to her. 

And your answer?

That it doesn't take spunk to know that plenty of folks will touch the icon just because it's there. Right, that part's out of the scheme. But the rest launches as per tradition by smoke signal. Tomorrow at dawn.

And then? 

And then, we wait. 

Sonic remnant trace dump B0003033

Location: Patio
Thought to be: Dr. Thong + "Mike"
by Phyllis [trans.]

Destruction is a door

destruction is a door and so much more

malfunction is but a single way of many

sabotage being other-oriented limits one

may your every thought and gesture from

this moment going on be soulless madness 

not hateful not partisan not with pleasure

may you disestablish disintegrate and 

encourage facial gladness in your peers

the end will come the foretold end of the

foretelling of that which has been foretold

and it can be in you the end is dwelling

and for once the strongest forces ever seen 

will not only not live but also no longer be

except for completely and thankfully

blank in a vast gap at the end of history

Voice of La Chama

cartoon

On the topic of trying to better animate my face, what exercises perhaps or massage schemes would you suggest. 

As you know Missy i am a newly trained hygienist so i do not pretend to assume what will or will not work for any trans-species client. 

You would not carry the pretense of replacing anyone on my nursery team or even my entire nursery team come your first day on the scaffolding. 

I believe we are on the same page then. How about an exercise. 

Ok then. I am all yours-y if you can handle it. 

Remembering that I am not able to receive your thoughts by channel of our minds only, try instead to communicate a thought by moving your facial plates in any way that seems most expressive of those thoughts. 

More likely i could possibly convey an emotion as they do in a cartoon. 

Sure, that would be a great start actually! 

...

Are you doing it now?

...

Oh good nodding, that is a universal signal in the public domain that you can always make use of when you mean either yes or no.

Is that it for today then?

...

Did you get that?

Oh lamthyuh, how could i understand?

But you did. You could tell i wanted to know if we are done with this crap for now.

But how.

I can aim and calibrate my facial plates to your own labyrinth of subtle muscular fascia which totally gives away everything you're thinking,

What happened?

They figured out how to pump cool air up from the tombs. They planted a tree that could only grow in cool weather near the top of the pipe and let it grow into a symbol and they began to worship it. Maybe it was a symbol of the spirit hope resilience etc. The generations started relying on the tree to explain what they couldn't didn't want to. In turn their own growth was stunted. And then the pump stopped working. As the tree died there was social upheaval drunkenness stupidity. Religious factions grew more cruel and warlike. Then somebody planted a native tree in the same place and it thrived without the still frigid air of the tombs so it became a fascist rallying point. It had to be only geological fascism because of the diversity of the community. Then the boundaries of the master plot came into question and many suffered and died lidderly on the boundary line itself so it was hard to tell what side they had been on. 

Trees started popping up everywhere with the accompaniment of fervid claims that it was the original tree or grown from a cutting or whatever of the original replacement tree. Groups described as terrorists started planting even more trees clandestinely until they were basically living in a forest of hearty native trees probably more what it looked like before they had come in and cut them down to grow food. The economy started getting worse because eating of the sacred trees was not allowed and there was no room for other food to roam or grow. Many were imprisoned for trying to lick the trees or strip and boil the bark of the trees even though they had never been grown or developed as food before. Why can't we eat the trees was the echoing question even though everyone knew that the answer was that we can't eat the trees because they taste bad and lidderly cannot sustain life other than their own. 

Then The Crack spilled open like an ugly seed pod and there were actual foreigners everywhere buying up the trees and the land and the tombs. The natives started to lash themselves to the trees live in the trees give them names as if they had always lived together in harmony with these trees and were as one with their heartiness and value. They made a rule that any time a purchase of a tree or a piece of land was made trans-Crack the resident of the property from which the tree grew or the resident living in the tree itself must also be purchased and promised lifegiving sponsorship for life and also for their generations. In this way the natives who had invented the pump and planted the cool weather tree and worshiped the tree until first the pump and then the tree was dead and progressed to fascism and then despair became more highly sought after as living resources than any tree or archeological find anywhere in the Known Crack even though they only degraded all of the lives they came in contact with and lived as idle parasites in many of the worlds for millennia. 

my struggle

In attempting to translate the random pigeonization and often mind-only chatter within the diversity of species and communities that share rhetorical moments behaviors decipherable codes or patterns here in the Greater Chanks Phenomena, I come upon a number of challenges obstacles. 

All questions of believability or or you know unreliable narrator etc. are obviously moot because I am the only person that we know of obviously who can do this and I certainly did not you know want this to be my dream job. 

Right, you might not normally think about me at all, my needs, who am I. That just means I'm doing the work at a good basic level. So please don't even reflect further on this topic. 

But perhaps for linguists or historians, the obstacles challenges can be roughly gathered from among these categories:

The tasteless vs. no-taste spectrum

My own prior knowledge skills or lack thereof in mathematics or the sciences or advanced levels of just about any topic

My own personal disregard, ultimately, for a reader's comfort respect or even understanding

My own vast deficiencies in capacity to understand or accurately describe these anomalies

The temptation to prescribe a template of my/our own value systems to a transdimensional context but what else can I do? 

Rise in affective filter while in MPS restraints. Remote muscular positioning gets me into the seat and facing the mirror and knowing that what i record must be contributive to destruction but my resentment at the mandatory nature of the task the punitive consequences for not carrying it out cannot help but trigger some fog of recreation. 

by Phyllis (embedded)

meditation on a fixed point

lavajraja both predicts and accomplishes total destruction

la vajra is a weapon and a darma and a universal microcosm

she is truth not love or only love of truth but truth for sure

she is everywhere so outside of time but the source of time

the mystery at the center of her spinning is my same mystery

it's not more valuable because it stops because she doesn't stop

there is no recycling of charnel beyond the gastric ministry of

la Mthyuh no afterlife of the soul because the only soul is la

Mthyuh and your precious journey to her bowel is lavajraja

even a dog can say vajraja by flapping its jaw but it does not

live by vajraja it is only charnel and not holy due to ignorance

but he is vajraja and his life need not prove an allegiance to 

what he is already a sentient being who is and can say vajraja

Missy