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."
Monday, December 11, 2023
"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."
Sunday, December 10, 2023
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.]
Saturday, December 9, 2023
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
Thousand Moons Village, Fridgeporcherator Chank
Wednesday, December 6, 2023
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.
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.]
Thursday, November 30, 2023
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
Tuesday, November 28, 2023
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.
Monday, November 27, 2023
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
Saturday, November 18, 2023
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
Wednesday, November 15, 2023
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.]
Wednesday, November 8, 2023
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.
Tuesday, November 7, 2023
MOFO
back when you were functional
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.]
Friday, November 3, 2023
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
Friday, October 27, 2023
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: The Socio-Politically Recovered Texts of Mthyuh & Co
Franz Gressive Stone Press, Chukkachank
Phyliss [Trans.]
Monday, October 23, 2023
My Trip to a Place Where I Am Gone
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?
Dr. Donna Thong
Journal for the Institute of the Meta-Cognitive Talk Therapy Apologist Movement
Tuesday, October 17, 2023
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.]
Friday, October 13, 2023
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