Sunday, November 4, 2012

Weirdly Usual

Blog-post # 342:
(342 = 3*2*19*3)

Eight images again:
(This is becoming a pattern.
Now two blog-posts in a row
-- in a row, mind you --
each with eight images in them.
Call the tabloids.)

Paradox Sans Consent Of Contingency

Knots Disentangled Beyond Themselves

Creation Of Creation Of Time Forming Time

Interstellar Drought

Incarcerated, Incinerated, And Carcinogenic

Plurality Fragmented To Be Singular


Callously Celestial Colossus Of All

The only neology among the
image's titles today is
"Psycho-calypse", which is
formed from "Psycho",
of course, and "Apocalypse".

I like the bottom image above
and its title; much, actually.
But the title does not really
complement the image, however.
(I just had to, after thinking
of the name, call my next
image that, no matter how
inappropriate doing so
would have been.
That happens a lot.)

I do like the image names here
today, though, at least the
longer names.


(Five, again; the number of
anagrams in my last post.
So, those are two cases of
two numbers of something being
the same from two of my
blog-posts in a row.
That surely is the most
phenomenal coincidence..)
(Pre-script to the anagrams:
I much like the top anagram

Not early; not late;...
only to alternate.


Of pure causality,
more depends;
.. as yourself,
predicated upon me.


Worthless finality there:
Its Hell now is farther yet.


In our lasting
chromatic failures:
Their cosmic ruin,
again of all rust.


Glass is interwoven so.
As I, it loves wrongness.


Mathematical theorems about
the infinite:

These come to their conclusions,
their final paragraphs,
prefaced by..


(And in conclusion,
there is no conclusion..)


Science and its theories do exist
(and maybe so too
do the scientists),

... in-theory..


An id + the smallest mind =


(That's my future band-name;
one of the many of these names.
And I don't even like this name.)

(I used to comment much more
than I currently do on
politics here in this blog.
But now so, more so, I post
regarding word-play.

... From making fun of idiots,
.. to making fun of idioms.)

Asking about the universe?
About laundry?

Visit the..


There are definitely the most
substantial of questions asked
here,.. and answered perhaps.
But your questions are answered
only after depositing your change,
and waiting, then waiting,
then waiting, and remaining
worried about your missing
laundry items and about those
existential and surreal yet
germ-covered washing-machines.

That is life. It will
encircle you like that, like
your own soiled clothes circling
(and encircled by) themselves.


Now I have become trendy,
so avant-garde.
As I am now being so..

Yes, so pretentiously trendy,
so hip,
we creative artists are.

Not merely starving,
we are, however.
But more so.. anorexic.

(A jaunt into the gaunt,..
for art.)

[Okay, this is an odd switch..]

I figured it out.
Cats must puke so much
by evolutionary design,..
because... Why?

.. Then they can get at least
SOME exercise..


(The granite, granted,
is slanted.)


What is a 'paramour'?
More than a 'paragon'?
But where has that gone?
Where there are polygons?

More polygons than a pair?
Where? Where there is a
plexiform paradox,
as perplexing, as
paramount as any amount
of paranormality? Surely,
the parallax lacks
its parallels. And these
parallels are neither
alliterated nor as literal
as any anything, nor as all.

(This is outstandingly
outlandish, and unlike myself
and what I am.)



kikinotdee said...

I'm craving a gobstopper now :)

Amorphous Trapezoid said...

I gather, Kiki, you are alluding to an earlier comment of yours regarding some other poetic ranting of mine, where you said you imagined it being recited (in his maniacal manner) by Willy Wonka in that scene aboard the boat in the tunnel (from the original movie). Right?
If so, that is a good and proper way to imagine it being read in your head.