Back to the Sounding Board, knock on wood. Anybody tells you to be safe they are phoneing in that Fare You Well. My Cockeyed optimism is plastered down like a frustratedand thinking cat. You can see

As every cowboy is a cool criminal..."You see th hay that is flying. The chaos looks like these puns: I am an expat too, used to be a asex, now have an entangling tab. Women? Dotters. Dotterrers

Same old chorus to this sstack, my feelings wary of clean water, are best expressed in the ledes to other folks’s Sstacks. Someone has said that we talk bilge-water and big block letters, and all the while go on wearing pointy shoes for fun. Guilty

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DREARY. MY SATURDAY jotts. PICKUPPING: Practical will be to say if unlettered persons want to say “ideal” where they mean ideas, to wait for the killer instinct of a teacher there to cancel itself. Cannot rugby a 16 grams flitter. What if? As we think. efficiency is a motorized vaccuum, but yet the lusty wishfulness will be in lifting one finger to defend yourself; in saying hi howareyous, what never was easy for my face a volute attitude to locate. When I was a child a religious boardrrom struck me nearly to sleep with the pianissimo and maybe shredded glories of coffeee aand cigarettes. My body was appalled, thunderation, the illustrated cassocks. Ordaining the tale of the Nose, punny funny tongue cuttings and throat burns. Missing were the choruses to those alleged songs, they were consarne’d, or damned songs in the style of Luther and some of them writt by his monkeyspaw, between fisticuffs? ASKANARCHIVIST. You know what they say vis-a this sbjct, was that Luther greeted strangers at his kitchen table with soup and beer, jotting notes for hymns and plotting, wasn’t he? Schemeing ? It almost sounds like the uses of crack, and not much like the manners of chruchgoers an die Kirche.

(BTW I was yesterday in attendance at our Old West festival, Toledo, Ohio 1905, and my own hipsters for Nth time suggested I might be banging the table too enthusiasticaly to the music. Nevermind cool dudes, believe my muddy ass self that thre be a lotta religious music on the shelf, and it’s dire straits to traverse, catpeopleonlywanttodance)

You have seen silent motion pictures that could straighten out your frenzied apprehensions. At the speed of perception you have worried that you have nohenchmen and the werld seems to have assistance that you cannot afford.

Those 2 point to the initiating cold open here, that frustration levels are running low, easily crossed over into batshit. Here was a ready kilowatt (1!~) o/thought to assist you: we always were in training while when we were a child we were inlove with our parents to fight our way out of an arrest in a paper bag. Gift to you a project to not look up from, you listen to a radio disk jockey and Junebug, you versus that Cracker, draw or otherwise to paint the things the dj is wishing for, is missing, is a rumbling giant for not asking for with that broadcast microphone. Meanwhile in the middle of the story a man falls a sleep, but I ain’t. Us kids, did never have a cat, nor any t except the characters in a Eugene ONeill play. Right? Copy? Rite?

What if we have the agility of a 21 craps dealer to keep our heads up high and hops and other minty special flavors of the first of our bilious organs to want to leave us down, in a smell, that then will be allowed to tell us later on our tastebuds ? In all of this talking-to on these pages, defending my three or so openings a day to want to try the tango against the idea in the Ian’s Substack that we might already subrosa be feeling what it feels like to have our eyelines tracked.

Guessing in our defense that ( we would notice if we were under rabbit punchy direction-) when it goes away, our feelings of time compression in our hosues represent the efficiency of a Woody Guthrie after jotting down This land is Your Land. Inside your house to don’t mistake thriving for growing. Growing in three directions attatime was preferable to flourishing in multiples. Outside the house, a man almost should be in a nose, and empty glasses and a bristly moustache because anything a man does outside the backdoor was liable to be taken for a crime by nearby ladies. Guessing here that our defenses for the next 5 years will be gendered boutique package wrapping business. The Marx brothers costumes are because during the western expansion into the territories men accepted an inflated as to importance permission/ command sequence of sighs and asks, and ‘tells’ that said gae’yew’aroundback andcleenup the toxins . A tocsin,-I just looked this up- was the ringing of a bell…

Inside the house, instead of preferring that yours be a work of art ready for interpretation ? In a rewrite every instance in Marshal McLuhan of the word medium , replace with ‘desk’. The whole house is one computer or is one desk. What a desk does as a delivery mechanism for thoughts and their companion chemicals, is it gets clogged up. You then as the legislator of your widest territory, free the printer sink from all that wrack. Pretty word : as in a culvert. Say that this will be like riding a bicycle, that most efficient sculpture next to a running deer, bicycles still are creaky. Consolation they say (Wallace stevens says it) was dangerous as getting what you want. For me the creaking of my wheels is a manner of eroding my built into flesh and bones bristle cone armoring. In the past year similarly we came to find out the standing and kneeling desks help nobody’s health. Sound is hyper active, sound comes form every direction, sound wears me down so I want a slow window break time elapsing steadily across my note taking at a desk.

What does it feel like for the woman? The sounding board vibrates the same with her. I want you to walk the longest driveway shape laid out in the house with the woman inside, that was same as hill-walking her outline. And can-can, become used to that.

Here were the initiating sequence of bald prnncmnts I made to Ian about in what directions I can see westron ‘bigeyes’ building a box seat for the year 2525, if humanity is still alive. Very succinctly pointing to Ornette Coleman, because his saxophone yodelings are not universally accepted as sweetly melodic. Sonny Stitt tried for a solid year in his NY apartment to teach Ornette how to read music. Could not be done. Music aspires to the conditions of music, and I have a tin ear for Coleman. Road of excess flowing toward summer I suppose, or the chaos of spring.

Next point at our flexibility in accepting substitutes for the products and items in the American Package of driveway car dishwasher empty counter, full counter, enough pain pills to fell a zebra and the rest of it. This would be in conditions in which there are twists and turns enough in a Morther city brownstone in layout to prevent a shotgun blast from strikign the woman in the kitchen fromthe front door ? Then, if you be castellated int hat fashion the childish needs to be safe and warm are easy to reach in times of warts and distress. Refer to the idea about a woman inside ? Then the man belongs cutting his hands working on a dog’s house. The picture was that of a southron shotgun house.

I say that houses contain beneath the floor boards the buble lettered messages that corporations used to communicate with bubble lettered company mascots and logoes. They were inflated, now they are deinflated to the size nd shapes of insects and crusataceans. Doubt that we can be as efficinet as insects always are at giving us thoughts. But if you tried, you could message yourself fromend to end of an interior with confidences nobody else would fathom. despite it does not seem like you could bear it, only would have to get past your peripheral vision. Say ina. poem about cats. “CATS ARE BOTH PREDATOR AND PREY ANIMALS/ LINE BREAK AND ETC.’ AND IN Tribute ( to my mother by Countee Cullen

BECAUSE man is not virtuous in himself/ Nor kind, nor given to sweet charities,/Save goaded by the little kindling elf/ Of some dear face it pleases him to please;/Some men who else were humbled to the dust ,/Have marveled that the chastening hand shoulf stay(stop0,/And never dreamed they held their lives in trust,/ To one the victor loved a world away./So I, least noble of a churlish race,/Least kind of those by nature tough and crude,/Have at the intervention of your face /Spared him with whom was my most bitter feud/One moment and the next, a deed more grand,/ The helpless fly imprisoned in my hand.

By doing everything in the house con dos manos-with two hands. By not imaging that a man could describe with words the rules that he obeys that keep the tiny tardigrade feet on the items and products that work. Although they rise to be said, such rules as to never think of the recipient while doing fine painting on a china cup . Or the rule of not keeping more than one of the most important tools because thereafter you willnot find neither. The rules will bear saying, but not form the beginning, and not in a lyrical lisp. Tell a police what to think and what to do ! BUt only the first thought that comes to your tongue on that helicopter day. And what does it feel like to have your eyelines tracked?

Because you cannot command your horsey body to flutter and flit lightly…the way to shift lightly from things to the next things might be to remember what being weed stoned does to your shoulders and the psoture around your hips? Sharper edge of your shapeless wedge.

Ugh, finish the liquor in the glass. In order to walk out the other side. And more subvocable rules. No fighting over milk spills. #679: Our friends when their self-own go radio dark are communicating the high sign by that zero. They are hot in pursuit of the nut-rich lore of stories.

Not much more r now, except to reassure you these feel relational, as if I am saying sweet things. Wrappittup, Illtakeit. You never will be happy in a house until you wave your arms about like a windmill. A couple of other sidebars: maybe we talked before about Marie Kondoing to a different math than the Japanese? Some of us have been wishing for tens of years that there were denim giant stitched together files for products and items. Those seem to be lately within reach. A giant backpack? Start filing 679 productitems sidewise in that pack. Take them out, and thin down the number, that could be your perfect internal frame backbone. I believe when John Fowles says visual thinkers are outflanked by trial and error poet ‘talkies”. No acts of contrition necessary. But that idea was stage directions for as often as not declining to suspend disbelief in videos of ‘Fails. From now until t year 20 and 25, men will continue to take mental notes in double negatives women hear like grinding gears.

A dull roar. And just this suggestive thought. Since we first heard the story of Oliver Twist, have since seen it stage directed as a series of ’Fails. I doubt that for as long as there are umbrella corporations whose human intelligences wish to seewhat we will do with a miniature butcher shop on wheels? - That we cannot unsee the ideas in that story about admiring the mark for their obliviousness and other maps to the world that have an hollow side, but that land us in an efficient walk to nowhere in particular. I believe if you write synopsis of Sam Kriss’s little movie about a man who marries a woman as part of a Blind Wedding TV show, that there are ideas about getting to your first-next minor failure faster than taxis

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