cloud tearerist (ghovinda) wrote in mortualis,
cloud tearerist

idea slam v I

there are forms of music, very many. an annoying amount exists. where the hell is ether rock? no i am not refering to etheral goth ambient bull, ether rock! no moping or screaming, but a design based on mathematics, numerology, and the calculations of alchemists. there are schemes to it, patterns of sound. it should take a scientist to formulate, a metahuman to calcualate, and iconoclasts to pontificate into the Existence. real sounds, bent by humans and philosophy, formal operations style.

imagination does not replace humanity.
fantasy does not destroy reality.
acting makes us more like people,
than we could ever be originally.

what the hell am i supposed to put in this thing? i think there should be a huge call for the "livejournal rage" interest. alt "no damn friends" alt "insignificance." maybe i would understand what the people wanted if i was actually a human being instead of an astral construct. whatever, i guess.

what is up with bandaids? they aren't very musical. the bandaid company should pay me a huge settlement, i cut myself severly just to activate the bandaid, the only thing i could do without instructions. feeding the bandaid blood accomplished nothing, my guitar skills refused to improve. i went to the store trying to find blood batteries or anything that would help activate the damn things. maybe i could use some human blood. i am going to make a tape of me shaving my entire body in protest of bandaids, assholes.

PBS is the master of reality television, with 19century house, frontier house, and soon to come pioneer house. they also showed a BBS production of wartime britain house, or something like that. i am waiting for trench house, based on the trench warfare that dominate ww1. this way we get to see rotting bodies, the constant whirr of incoming shells, the scent of corpses and open latrines. piss and shit will pour into the dugouts the contestants try to live in. they will have to drink there water mud blood and all. there will be the occasional drowning of people who tried to lay down and rest, weak to lift their necks out of the mud. oh, and did i mention the feline sized rats that curl up next to you when you try to sleep. the rations will be stained in blood and covered in maggots. try to sleep on the fire step with that enemy maxim machine gun flowing with the stars over your head. the contestants have to look at the clouds, avoiding a mundane abyss of collapsing dirt walls. the faces of other men aren't enough to keep you happy, they just remind you of how sad and skeletal you would look if you stared into a mirror. artillery batteries bombard your foxhole, and all of this is on a very good day. on a bad day mustard gas causes you to drown in your own lungs. all down the line you hear screaming "gas! gas!" bodies roll out and around in epileptic fits. that would be and education in television. the floilegium section has shorts from very talented people. most of it is noise, but a person can gate through it with little irritation.
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