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THE BEGINNING IS THE END:As an age comes to an end it's crystallization reveals its own destruction. In its attempt to force manifest its permanence, its universal reality, it sets up within itself the inherent vibrations of rebellion. As any absolute is approached, an "event horizon" is reached whereupon the exponential explosion of final realization penetrates itself into its ever integral and necessary polar opposite. Observation demonstrates that all natural systems are cyclical, and as symbolized in the Yin-Yang, polarities meet again at their poles. To elucidate, enlightenment is obtainable only through penetrating the shadow, the void, its absolute opposite. Any pole holds within it the other, and verily can not exist without its brother. It is this dynamic tension that gives the opposing concepts any meaning in the first place. Either end cannot truly be reached because as you approach one end, you end up approaching the other, making a perfect circle, the symbol of wholeness. Such things are difficult to see when one is connected to the circle. In fact, the poles themselves are quite arbitrary, being completely relative to the point on the circle they are being observed from. There is no end to the circle, as one can always go further, seek more. Where one to focus on a "pole" one would experience only increasingly intricate spirals finally exploding into an infinite maze of delicate fractals. Most would be hopelessly lost in such chaos. There are a very few however capable of mutating with such a shift, flowing into another dimension of perception, of consciousness, completely inconceivable from any point on that long forgotten circle. Such mutants might even perceive the stress harmonics and overtones projected beforehand by such a powerful transformation of energy. To the unprepared this change would be the end of their world by their own hand, pushed overboard by blind progress. Their consciousness would dissolve into a matrix they could not believe. To the mutants however, this would be a time of transformation, of alignment and manifestation to a higher way of life. It would be a step in the evolution of consciousness from meat to light. To the mutants the matrix is not feared but accepted, their consciousness fluid, not brittle. This process is an eternal cycle of growth and generation, not unlike our own birthing pits of primordial ooze. Our circular world is a nursery, or perhaps more accurately, a psychic garden. The cycles of its harvest harmonize with our own. Countless investigations have revealed its frequency to us repeatedly and through many sources. Harvest time is coming, and the fruit must be picked lest it rot unused. And the chaff must be removed from the grain and recycled to fertilize the next crop. It has been written again and again in every culture. The harvest has been known as the apocalypse. The mutants who receive its vibrations have been known as prophets. To be a prophet is to be a target of the unconscious, knowing fear of the masses. It is to be ignored and frustrated. It is to live in a world turned against you to save a people who hate you. Few will heed your words. But you will find the greatest joys with those who do, and the greatest love even for those who persecute you. It will not be easy, but it will not be your choice. Prophets are born prophets, and if they do not destroy themselves denying their calling, they will find a peace most profound, a life most adventurous, a work most rewarding, and a place most fitting in the life ahead. So it was written. |
CHILDREN OF THEE BUBBLE:Once upon a time a terrible sorcerer of REALity named thee Rouse devised an experiment most sinister. In Queen Mary's Land he acquired the necessary space from ancient farmers on hard times. His entire plan was devised in intricate detail before even the first days. From the oldest forests and fields he constructed a labyrinth of roads with names most subliminal. All were misleading, and lead eventually to the pyramids at it's center. Every inch and building he kept tightly under his direct control. Near the pyramids he placed a Lake. On Thee Lake he placed the Tower of Bells. By Thee Lake he placed fountains, one large and bold, one small and hidden. He also placed here his tree of golden people, a metallic antenna of extraterrestrial design capable of etheric surveillance, projection, and manipulation. With this People Tree he formed an etheric bubble around his towne, protecting it from any external influence, and subliminally hindering any one's escape from the towne. This bubble would make the sky glow purple on certain nights. Thee Lake was made home to the leviathan he had captured, many-tentacled and heavily armored, kept sedated by noxious chemicals (including Pepsi) injected into Thee Lake. Thee Rouse broadcast subliminally attractive radiants specific to certain genetic strains into the surrounding areas, encouraging certain lines to settle in his towne and raise their children there. Every aspect of life was precisely controlled by his personal goons, the CAstapo. The entire town was designed so as to focus and manipulate certain energies. It was divided into a precise number of hoods, all circling the pyramids at exact angles. All development was meticulously controlled. All undesirable or unpredictable factors were eliminated. And he waited. Even after he died, he continued to watch over his sinister project as a kind of undead lich. His crypt was kept in his building, bizarrely designed to focus the energies keeping him "alive", of course near between Thee Lake and pyramids. On appointed nights his minions would awaken him and receive their instructions, producing an eerie glow from his building. Most had become loyal, autonomous zombies by this time. No one knows what his final plans are, but as the end of his age approached his towne produced a most peculiar group of children. Only a fraction of the population, but exhibiting intense psychic powers, these few were drawn together to Thee Lake. But they hated the prison the had been bourn in to, it's vile creator, it's constant restrictions, and it's otherwise brainwashed inhabitants. And the puppets ALL hated these freaks, instinctively, though Thee Rouse's thoughts might never be discerned. These chosen fit most painfully into the bubble, and rebelled mightily against it at every turn, and dreamed of life outside, in the "real" world. But somehow, together, through the oppressive muck, they grew stronger. Each far exceeded the capabilities of normal men, and together they were a force without precedent or parallel. They accelerated faster and farther into the unknown, penetrating the bubble through themselves. As they explored they even came upon a tiny stronghold of life hidden deep within the bubble, behind Thee Lake. They had found the mythical Road to kNowHere, a navel of tremendous ancient power forgotten long ago by Rouse and his goons. It was here that they found themselves, rebels of the bubble, children of the future, trash of Thee Lake, followers of thee asteroid, thee Cytoplastik Ninja Clan. Mile 23, Thee Mystica Colonica, Thee Skuzzy Gannett Bird, Thee Fractal Cat, revealer and disbeliever of thee Puppet Games at 23 Miles Per Hour, was one of these chosen freaks. |
| .....Strange.....and now with skuzzier bits of Wild MushroomTM! Natural rhythms ov inter-dimensional flux. Apocatrypgnossis. Demon jazz from the astral plane. |
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| Documenting the fermentation of psychedelic influences. Astral cartoon show. An hyper trip through jungles, forests, intestines, on the back of a dragon with a company of bunnies, etc... |
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| The breakthrough tape, experimental electro-gothic industrial madness. |
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LINKS: |
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| Impulse Tracker | MODPlug | WinAmp | ||
| DOS IT format MODule tracker | WIN IT format MODule player | WIN MP3 player, can approximate ITs | ||
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| Thee Rev St of Skuzzbunnies, Sr Elgaroo Brenza du sLAcKE
* | * Cytoplastik Ninja Clan, Psychic Enema Division
/|\ skuzzbunny@gmail.com
/ | \ http://elgaroo.13th-floor.org/
(()|()) http://www.facebook.com/elgaroo
\/|\/ "You see Miles, it's all infinate.....[Wooooosh!]"