yes ~joycE~3

The last lines of Ulysses set to music

as Yes Yes yes I saiD She saiD Said She Yes yes, yes She I said Yes Yes.... Yes I said Yes

the first july

the first july

to any readers who happen to subscribe to this blog

it's not the best way to read it , because things
change around here more than a daily subscription

best to just read along at will


and the second ?



boondoggle you are a new word lovely as a pan of cake
not Peter Pan
yet closer to Pan
's rough flute

behovely as fruit

not the promography of everyday strife
or gabbled rood to top
wear & care yer hum dry salt
but breasted weave
around its cotten wheat

we're i the bu sin ess of calves

tabbed thighs
& bustin hip jerking


jj 's 12

jeux d'eau

Richter plays
jeux d'eau

Sunday afternoon~
Soft breeze

a bit of happiness ~

Snatched ~ from the
passage of wreckage

out of the old place at last

on dit

dits on
on dits

on parle de poems
on parle parle o n parle par le jamais depuis des mois des mois de moi ou elle parle parle avec moi moi avec moi parle parlez-vou s les nu its de la

ville ici les nu its ici et d'ailleurs chez elle et chez elle c'est comment? on ne sais pas on est c'est pas on est pas en Fra nce en Rome en Amsterdam a Madrid o n a pas a Lon dres i

D ublin i Berlin alors on est,?ou? o n est la ici mai nte n an t ic i proche de vo us toi toi vou s nous


comment deja l'été
est venue

et elle?
ses genoux?

sa cœur
so n cœur

over at brim for variant of this post


is there a n y thin g to you more bea utIf Ul than

the folds of a woman's sex?

n o Madame Co urier there is no clou d or idea a s bea u ti fu l

nor her smile when she is happy

do yoU loNg to see her happiN ess

yes yes I do

I d o ~
the m an with a broken keyboard
that moved

was kellogs cornflakes to dada
on screen keyboard temporary delay
poetry i'na play
of cotton wool n batten

doctor almost d yer pathetic!

wave after wave of it



what do you know about love mister D?

i think i know it is action

do you act Mister D?

i have acted ...

sometimes sometime actig reacting in fear and sorrow

who are you Mister D?
is love a action? or a faction?

perhaps both

and when
Master Luter mailed 500 dollars
that was action and

as other s too have

others who showed love's word

to moi descending in flames

and do you love her the one
you have not met who lives so
far away from you?

I love her as much
as I can in faith

yes the light to her is long
i sing her happiness
my special one ~

Lyric sky to her heart
her pregnant self bursting with gift

her big self bigger to moi than
any other yet ~


aoire de la philo

what is with yo & Dele ze?
what is
with me?
is everythi g


tootsie rolls the hot summer bodies of love terracetootsie rolls the hot summer bodies of love terracetootsie rolls the hot summer bodies of love terracetootsie rolls the hot summer bodies of love terrace
mister toaster wakes in the morning only to discover his n


big let down

Obama Scolds Black Fathers, Gets Bounce in Polls


"It’s obvious by now that Barack Obama is treating black Americans like one treats a demented uncle, brought out from his room to be ridiculed and scolded before company from time to time, the old Clinton Sistah Souljah strategy borrowed from Clinton’s first presidential campaign when he traveled the country criticizing the personal morality of blacks and wooing white voters by objecting to what he considered anti -white lyrics sung by rapper Sistah Souljah. "

from over at Counterpunch

lisobon treaty 'impenetrable fiction'

by way of joyce mailing list

lisbon is has been
tryin to force the
irish people to accept
wont fly

bye-bye lisbon blah


r e d gr ow ro se

tremble thigh
in shiver night
along sheath of your night
sheaf of mouth
hand of head
four breast
two heads


one doubl e uni ty of body and soul

my love is like that like a red red river that grow

hommage à

everything inthis post from radiofrance culture

mission du mardi 24 juin 2008

hommage à Albert Cossery /
Exercice d'admiration n°3 : James Baldwin par Alain Mabanckou

Joseph Macé-Scarron, Alain Mabanckou
© RF / A. Lachand

C'est finalement un mardi en littérature auquel Tout arrive ! vous convie ce jour, avec célébration de grands disparus...

  • En effet, nous re-programmons pour commencer un incroyable Tout arrive ! enregistré en juin 2004 en compagnie d'Albert Cossery, dont on a appris hier la disparition.
    Incroyable, car l'écrivain dont l'oeuvre toute entière racontait l'Egypte n'avait plus à l'époque qu'un souffle en guise de voix. Et pourtant on l'entend, lui, se raconter ici au côté de ses proches... (plus d'informations et bibliographie dans nos archives SUR CETTE PAGE).

  • Puis, après le journal vient le troisième temps de nos "exercices d'admiration" en collaboration avec le Magazine Littéraire.
    Cette fois c'est Alain Mabanckou qui, en echo avec l'article qu'il fait paraître dans le magazine, vient confier son admiration et son dû à James Baldwin.

  • via radio france culture

    Rétention :pourquoi Vincennes a brûlé


    "C’était le plus grand centre de rétention administrative (CRA) de France. Tête de pont de la politique d’expulsion chiffrée; «cocotte-minute» inquiétante au gré des protestations et des grèves de la faim de ses occupants. Depuis dimanche, les deux bâtiments du CRA de Vincennes (Val-de-Marne) ne sont plus que décombres, dérisoirement entourés de barbelés. Détruits par un incendie volontaire au terme d’un nouvel épisode de tension. Ceux qui vivaient là et qui ont été transférés vers d’autres centres resteront dans l’histoire de l’immigration en France comme «les mutins de Vincennes». L’incendie à peine éteint, la polémique a enflé à la fois sur les causes de cette «mutinerie» et sur la politique de reconduite aux frontières."

    via Liberation

    La mort d’un sans-papiers a-t-elle provoqué l’incendie ?

    fire~! fire ~ feu feu!


    city divided.....city light...

    Paris Burning....

    Journeyman Pictures
    not quite May 6...8
    June 2008

    to see the video follow the embedded link....journeyman videos

    Has the city anywhere gathered its dispossed? we know mister sarkozy.... is the reactionary paranoid force ...

    "Paris is a city divided. Tensions between police, immigrants and ethnic minorities in deprived ghettos have erupted in riots. David Brill investigates the social and racial fault lines of Paris.
    The residents of Paris' outer-suburb ghettos feel angry and disillusioned by a seemingly indifferent government. With unemployment at 40% in these areas, resentment runs deep. Sarkozy, who dubbed these residents as "scum" in 2005, has become a hate figure. Suspicion of police is also rife, particularly after two boys died while running from police in the 2005 riots. Samir, a father of two, says; "at the smallest disturbance they send in 50 busloads of riot police, blockade the whole neighbourhood and harass everyone. I can't imagine my girls growing up here." Racism is another ongoing problem. One resident states; "I am French but look at my skin. It means I can never feel French."

    feeling not part of
    left off as shit
    not part of the republic
    the dominion
    the confederation
    the family

    mrs broomer

    awoman who cannot move must . mrs brimmer. wears holly hats in her head. al that is flow. its dicta de fluta .awoman who cannot move must . mrs brimmer. wears holly hats in her head. al that is flow. its dicta de fluta .awoman who cannot move must .

    mrs brimmer. wears holly hats in her head. al that is flow. its dicta de fluta .awoman who cannot move must . mrs brimmer. wears holly hats in her head. al that is flow. its dicta de fluta .awoman who cannot move must . mrs brimmer. wears holly hats in her head. al that is flow. its dicta de fluta .awoman who cannot move must . mrs brimmer. wears holly hats in her head. al that is flow. its dicta de fluta


    diSCours Pierre Guyotat

    Leçons de Pierre Guyotat sur la langue française,
    was is/he is an schizlogue a poet becoming
    unlie the envy of death's tongue


    Cours Pierre Guyotat
    by leoscheer_tv

    See then this machine Guyotat

    I Pierre Guyotat


    ----------------------FolDedRhiZomeoF iCtions AFFLiCtions
    Mona was sleeping and reading and writing. Like her fathers Gilles
    she was racing past Jill their daughter. She was the persons of the
    pronouns and bodies bodies bodies bodies bodies and multiplcities and
    cities and cities cities and cities. Like virus and bacterias and
    viralogies and viragoes. It was like that sometimes with the harridan down

    lyric bow of her Sapphic Orphean strains. She was the one. She read past
    the pages of square and lair, she was the wolf without a home. She was
    taking him from behind, and she was I know where is an hind. She was the
    bric-a-brac barque and boat. She was the one where part for whole stepped
    past and whole was hole in its fragmentary parts. Like telephone wheels
    and sockets she was the lover of the pediment face and wheels. Itwas
    something like that something like the difference between the between
    space of difference and espace and escape while chutes fell and lovers
    lipped one another over space and rhyme. Like cities and veins and veined
    armed god and goddess. Zoned she was, and Zone she was and turned the
    page, turning it, turn and turn. She turn the page and the:
    **** D.Sagan looks at the view of sexuality special to state
    science from a broader perspective than that of socialized human animals.
    The monolithic view of the body is built not only on the basis of a social
    norm established by the European male, she argues, but also by a
    biological norm confined to zoocentrism. With Deleuze, she focuses on teh
    fluid transmission of genetic materials across a continuum, where no
    boundaries seperate a body and its environment. Bacteria too have sex:side
    communication again.
    *** Jill was in sidereal space against. --- . Mona had a sexy
    bacteria. She was a sideways sort of girl, which was why she was a double
    pederast, a female male lesbian without
    the testicles and testament of the male gender. Mona had a sexy sexy
    doublet. She was aninexact.
    **'The human body, she writes, 'is an archiectonic compilation of millions
    of agencies od chimerical cells' (S, 1992:367).
    **** She was the transit between millions, and, her agency had
    long ceased being existenial. She was a depot between millions, a
    fictionalized self body, chimera and griffon battled between them for her
    loyalties and circus cries of many circulated in her veins. She had no
    ceased being the existential nudity of the body, and was biologos
    becomings in waves.****
    **An environment is a body and a body is an environment, and the
    formation of space is independant of this. 'The Bwo is matter that
    occupies space to a given degree - the degree corresponding to the
    intensities produced'(DG,1980:189;1988:153) Sagan's compilation body leads
    also to a different view of the health of a body" 'disturbances of the
    body's normal microbial ecology, do not, properly speaking, signal
    sickness so much as the emergence of difference and novelty' (S,1992:369).

    **Mona laughed when she read that. What a joking jesus hyperbole
    bullshit was that she thought. Nothing new there is there? Under the sun.
    All is vanity. A new microbe. A mic robe a robe with many mics of sickness
    under it led to her cunt. Her cock and a young boy's body asunder supple
    dance of sickness and desire. She grabbed another cigarette and
    masturbated rapidly to the image Mage of the young woman's partially
    showing shown breast inthe cafe. And the lesbianism of her partner's
    dominance. And old adjectives. She pulled her cock and came on the
    keybboard splattering her copy of Jill's copy of Logic of Sex (English
    trans. Oxford Univ.Press:1990. Yammasummi and Giveittranslations machine
    corps incorporated with revolutionary praxis included:5:95 paperback, 2
    dollars hardbound as a hardon) where she saw the bodies microbe coming on
    her bacteria and she knew the virus as AdamKadmon knew Eve and knew she
    loved him them just like she had never loved another. Properly speaking
    she was sick to death, the sickness unto death and despair like a moment
    of infinite leap and repetition led her. She was a memori and memoir of a
    biologist and the living testament and teste of the deleuze approach to
    better living with Shakespeare. Not an old humanism for sure.
    At that inexact moment Franny walked in. Sauntered with her pants
    down and the desire delire machine was all hers for the taking. She had
    a rabbit on her hat and nothing up her sleeve but permutated letters of
    love. She came in his face his preface postface prologue and epi-logue. It
    was the English language that cussed cursed and swore as to like that. She
    was In Transit and in the Sacred Night of his hands bodies. She was Jill
    and Jack and Jill when she was up and down the ladder. Of her happiness.
    It's not my fault if I am a genius she said, then Jill who was Gilles
    sometimes and some of the spaces of the time it was repeated. and it was
    the window and the windhover of Christ the apple of the eye and the thing.
    Yes. she said.
    Well Mona, I am going back to the book. She said. It was mine, my
    book so why did she go back to it?

    **This view of the body converges with that of Stone, [which Stone I
    wondered and got down my cuntcaveconchhorn and blew - It was the
    GoDDess!!!!!!!!! blowing her Horn!! all Around the Cape!! the Cape the
    Cape!!!! of Desire! and she whooshed it on past him] [her stone was a song
    of desire's drunken boat and slow levre of livre and lip and booklipleave
    which cleave to thesoft soft buttock ofthe lip of the clip of the accent
    of her hooked hips young girl's shameless shamefilled filed bodies, my
    biology suits yours too!! she said and laughed him down to his lambent
    pains] but from a different direction. (Two Directions in one steeple. As
    one hard erection hints at one god Arising from the Dead -- thus Lent,
    this Advent thus kalendar with a K, o So catholic inyer beckonings and
    reckonings of time past and fast.) Disturbances in the socially defined
    coherence of a body, -- [Artaud svp bodies without organs are not the same
    as bodies without limbs, or bodies without lambs for that matter. She bent
    down and sucked her own candycone sex phallus cock. It was. And then
    shesays. I am Pierre Guyotat and I bring you Rain and Thunder. So fuck my
    ass and sodomize me as I am playing with margin and transgress regress
    digress repress depress impress express] (Bodies fall apart like oil and
    commercials, what were they made of then, like abstract paintings cracking
    and peeling barely 30 years later) -- in the correlation of "sex" and
    "gender" do not, for Stone, signal sickness or dysfunction, but
    autoexperimentation and invention.
    * * *

    Invent your own body, said Mona. Invent your own death. She said.
    Invent your own lips as you have stolen his. Invent your own
    nightmare and wakes, feel my portmanteau words along your breast. Like a
    true soldat of love and whoooooosssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhh
    we will be great lovers.




    Deleuze and Philosophy - The Difference Engineer
    Ed. Keith Ansell Pearson. Routledge. 1997.
    Quotes from page 40 and endnote reference to
    Dorion Sagan (S, 1992) "Metemetazoa:Biology and Multiplicity,
    in J. Crary and S. Kwinter (eds) Incorporations Zone 6, New York,


    Make your embryo said Jill when she got home and saw the writer
    and they slept very well together. Finally.


    p e a c e

    peace to the soul of misteR cossery

    as it travels up the astral layers thru


    the world'


    yours too ~

    albert cossery ... men god forgot... has moved along to the next world....


    Men God Forgot is the sole book of Crossery's which I've read, and that was by way of the introduction of Henry Miller. i might have a copy of that old, and small sized hard back edition ... somewhere.... amazing the things which happen all these years later.... i've not read him since the 70's.... it must've been back when i was sharing digs with David,

    it is remarkable isn't it Mister Verdan a how time


    now his s o u l

    flit s
    f li t s

    Albert Cossery (left); a still from Asma el-Bakry's Egyptian film production of Mendiants et orgueilleux
    parent page (26 January - 1 February 2006, issue #779)

    Albert Cossery, un prophète de la dérision est mort

    Le grand écrivain égyptien de langue française vivait à Saint-Germain-des-Prés depuis une soixantaine d'années. C'est là qu'Albert Cossery est mort, dans sa chambre, ce dimanche 22 juin à l'âge de 94 ans. Dans son dernier livre, «les Couleurs de l’'infamie», en 1999, il remettait au goût du jour la gaieté stendhalienne. Fabrice Pliskin l'avait alors rencontré

    the last siesta the final sweet sleep ~
    Cossery, la dernière sieste
    Disparition. L’écrivain égyptien est mort dans l’hôtel parisien où il vivait depuis 1945.
    Albert Cossery, 'Voltaire of the Nile,' dies at 94

    exploring European and "independent" Egyptian film"Some of the other festival films include Eyad Taha's Al-Sabiya Wal-Hashash (The Young Girl and the Hashish Smoker), based on a story by Albert Cossery; "

    The record of a life Oeuvres complètes (Complete Works), 2 volumes, Albert Cossery, Paris: Editions Jo‘lle Losfeld/ Gallimard, 2005. pp608 & 624


    blake's milton


    The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid: of Plato & Cicero. which all Men ought to contemn: are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible. but when the New Age is at leisure to Pronounce; all will be set right: & those Grand Works of the more ancient & consciously & professedly Inspired Men, will hold their proper rank, & the Daughters of Memory shall become the Daughters of Inspiration. Shakspeare & Milton were both curbd by the general malady & infection from the silly Greek & Latin slaves of the Sword.

    Rouze up O Young Men of the New Age! set your foreheads against the ignorant Hirelings! For we have Hirelings in the Camp, the Court, & the University: who would if they could, for ever depress Mental & prolong Corporeal War. Painters! on you I call! Sculptors! Architects! Suffer not the fash[i]onable Fools to depress your powers by the prices they pretend to give for contemptible works or the expensive advertizing boasts that they make of such works; believe Christ & his Apostles that there is a Class of Men whose whole delight is in Destroying. We do not want either Greek or Roman Models if we are but just & true to our own Imaginations, those Worlds of Eternity in which we shall live for ever; in Jesus our Lord.

    And did those feet in ancient time,
    Walk upon Englands mountains green:
    And was the holy Lamb of God,
    On Englands pleasant pastures seen!
    And did the Countenance Divine, 5
    Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
    And was Jerusalem builded here,
    Among these dark Satanic Mills?
    Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
    Bring me my Arrows of desire: 10
    Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
    Bring me my Chariot of fire!
    I will not cease from Mental Fight,
    Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
    [Begin Page 96]
    Till we have built Jerusalem, 15
    In Englands green & pleasant Land.

    Would to God that all the Lords people were Prophets.
    Numbers XI. ch 29 v.

    Book the First

    Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poets Song
    Record the journey of immortal Milton thro' your Realms
    Of terror & mild moony lustre, in soft sexual delusions
    Of varied beauty, to delight the wanderer and repose
    His burning thirst & freezing hunger! Come into my band 5
    By your mild power; descending down the Nerves of my right arm
    From out the Portals of my Brain, where by your ministry
    The Eternal Great Humanity Divine. planted his Paradise,
    And in it caus'd the Spectres of the Dead to take sweet forms
    In likeness of himself. Tell also of the False Tongue! vegetated 10
    Beneath your land of shadows: of its sacrifices. and
    Its offerings; even till Jesus, the image of the Invisible God
    Became its prey; a curec, an offering, and an atonement,
    For Death Eternal in the heavens of Albion, & before the Gates
    Of Jerusalem his Emanation, in the heavens beneath Beulah 15
    Say first! what mov'd Milton, who walkd about in Eternity
    One hundred years, pondring the intricate mazes of Providence
    Unhappy tho in heav'n, he obey'd, he murmur'd not. he was silent S

    Viewing his Sixfold Emanation scatter'd thro' the deep
    In torment! To go into the deep her to redeem & himself perish? 20
    What cause at length mov'd Milton to this unexampled deed[?]t
    A Bards prophetic Song! for sitting at eternal tables,
    Terrific among the Sons of Albion in chorus solemn & loud
    A Bard broke forth! all sat attentive to the awful man.
    Mark well my words! they are of your eternal salvation: 25
    Three Classes are Created by the Hammer of Los, & Woven t
    By Enitharmons Looms when Albion was slain upon his Mountainst
    And in his Tent, thro envy of Living Form, even of the Divine Vision
    And of the sports of Wisdom in the Human Imagination
    Which is the Divine Body of the Lord Jesus, blessed for ever.
    Mark well my words. they are of your eternal salvation: 5
    Urizen lay in darkness & solitude, in chains of the mind lock'd up
    Los siezd his Hammer & Tongs; he labourd at his resolute Anvil

    Poets discuss soul of dead poet. eclectic becomings
    of the soul travails and travel. from journey to journey.
    More of Blake 's Milton at Brim

    William Blake, 'Satan Calling up his Legions' about 1804. Museum no. P.8-1950

    William Blake (1757-1827)
    'Satan Calling up his Legions'
    About 1804
    Tempera on canvas
    Illustration to Milton's 'Paradise Lost', Book 1
    Museum no. P.8-1950

    Blake's antipathy to the standard methods of oil painting led him to use tempera, in which pigments are mixed with egg or animal glue. Unfortunately, most of his tempera pictures have darkened disastrously. This illustration to 'Paradise Lost' was owned for many years by Samuel Palmer, who shared Blake's unbounded enthusiasm for Milton's poetry.

    outdoor link here


    name 2

    name your name said ` walkin in the city, this city, you dont know
    a baby city compared contr, to yers, a grand lightening in the sky ,,

    o f be a uty ,

    did you knowthe world's filled with monster?
    horns stuck out and stupidit the average norm
    maniacs running the roost?

    yes, maniacs, stupidity, le bêtise tout par tout
    plein des connes des betes
    vraiment sont pas des bêtes naturel
    sont des bêtes humains comme vous savez bien

    you are not a beast
    nor stupid
    nor anything
    but wine

    this solo
    needle i am

    this time


    not far far
    close close city ocean
    provinces continents
    close near
    near close
    window door
    window door

    you r window
    yer hands
    ive not yet kissed

    nor forgotten

    were you...

    it's not a parisian cafe
    i sat in waiting for you
    not ghost
    host of heart
    throb of me
    of nearness beauty

    yer words not forgot
    this body of mine holding


    as if they were you

    apartment wander of beauty

    yer kicking beauty
    blinded spellbound me

    never forgotten

    the intelligence of your speech
    tensed me to thrilled beauty

    j'écoute radio France a ce moment

    j'écoute l'air des chansons de cœur a cœur

    je me sens en exile en hors de france
    mon pays non vue longtemps

    long temps pays de mon coeur
    mon cœur toi le dame plus intelligent
    que j'ai jamais rencontrez

    c'est de toi
    c'est n'est pas un métaphore
    tu sais?
    vous tu
    vous tu
    tu vous

    et je parle de Toi pas le pays....
    je parle de toi
    a toi toi de toi

    Tu sais je vive dans un quartier presque fascist? que , pour moi,chaque jours depuis deux annes etait un combat? c'est stupide, non?

    correction _ c'est le batiste
    un batiste peu être un quartier fasciste
    un cimetière

    presque trois ans de bruits
    de persécution par négligence

    et moi?
    est-ce que je suis fâche?
    oui non
    non oui

    c'est comique
    faicheurs de clifford duffy
    "faicheurs" c'est n'est pas un mot
    alors, fuck that
    c'est un mot
    je cree des mots
    des paroles

    pour toi
    non connue
    non vue

    et le these?
    presque fini et complete
    c'est un follie n'est ce pas

    tu pense que peut-etre
    je oublie moi?

    que je pue oublie un Toi
    comme Toi?
    un Toi
    si rare
    qu e
    mon cœur

    jai jamais explique des choses.... c'est un histoire d'un vie comme vous
    un vie
    le votre

    vos lèvres
    tes yeux



    I withdraw any support, imaginary or otherwise i gave to Senator Barak Obama ~ besides I cant vote.

    and if I could. I'd not vote for him nor any democrat. not after the shame of this
    week and the shame of their omissiveness about this telecom bill

    is a nice man charismatic and the rest of i,t,

    but he wont stand up taller than that
    he wont get my vote real and imaginary vote, my spiritual support

    shame on him
    for this especially

    there were other matters that gave me pause
    and doubt
    however, they were not enuff

    this is.
    bye bye Obama


    n a m e ~


    it's alway lovE` as desire brushed the bowl

    yer heart speakin'
    as clocks click mates to carrying love
    yer hair gleamin' like a sunshine
    lover lover the night is young I thin k of your n a m e

    homage to karlheinz stockhausen


    Via radio france culture `

    émission du lundi 16 juin 2008

    the first time I heard this composer I was eighteen, nineteen... Iwas taken away right off and into the wonderful worlds of music he composed... I can't remember the name o f that first album nor can I describe, but I was hooked.... and here now these many years later,
    he has passed on.. to the music perhaps in the sky of aftering afterward immanence....

    Hommage à Karlheinz Stockhausen (rediffusion de la série du 24 au 28 décembre 2007)

    Extraits musicaux
    "Gruppen", pour trois orchestres

    Le 5 décembre dernier, disparaissait Karlheinz Stockhausen.
    De la génération des compositeurs nés au milieu des années trente, Karlheinz Stockhausen est sans doute le seul à avoir exploré tous les champs importants de la recherche musicale depuis les années cinquante. Des premiers essais de la musique sérielle jusqu’à la réalisation d’un gigantesque cycle d’opéras, "Licht" (Lumière), il a développé l’idée d’une musique universelle, d’une musique cosmique, qui a vu le jour en 1977 sous la forme de cet opéra étendu aux sept jours de la semaine.
    Karlheinz Stockhausen vivait en Allemagne, contrôlant la diffusion de ses oeuvres avec la fondation qui porte son nom. "En art aucun progrès n’est possible sans intégration de la technologie", déclarait-il, lui qui avait fait ses premiers essais dès 1954 à la radio de Cologne. L’artiste avait ainsi développé tout au long de son oeuvre une obsession sonore qui lui avait permis de s’abstraire de toute tradition musicale, au profit d’une conception spatiale de la musique.
    La rediffusion d’une partie de ces entretiens réalisés à Leipzig en 1996 portera essentiellement sur la musique électronique.
    A signaler, le dimanche 30 décembre, dans le cadre des Ateliers de Création Radiophonique de France Culture à 22 heures 10, un Hommage à Stockhausen avec la rediffusion de la pièce "Le Chant des adolescents" (Der Gesang der Jünglige), composée en 1956 au sein du Studio de Musique Electronique de la WDR (West Deutsche Rundkunft) à Cologne : une des premières émanations de la musique électroacoustique, unifiant les esthétiques antagonistes de la musique concrète et de la musique électronique. "Le Chant des adolescents" est également une des premières pièces musicales spatialisées en quadriphonie, qui a fait date dans le champ de la création radiophonique.


    dulcet ~ duvet ~ I wonder if your voice
    would sound dulcet after we made love
    if we'd made love
    which we never have yet ~
    I wonder how you are
    how your fingers
    if they play strings
    I wonder about you
    your voice hearing faintly echo
    your voice in


    how you'd sound ~


    cour de monde

    baghdad the most.... dangerou s pla c e

    that earlier posting wit h the fuseli courtesan.... that cld. be the look of a Genet, character in Le Balcon, or say, The Screens, or a drag queen in Our Lady of the Flower...s...
    has that look
    s[h]e does.


    indeed all the world's a war zone ,
    to varying


    each day less here. already. out . on nnn the way. almost. gone out of these dead leave. calm to go. end calamity. of this sentence. paid to prison. hell, limbo purgatory. end it sending ending. end

    Henry Fuseli
    Courtesan with an Elaborate Head-dress (Kurtisane mit Federschmuck) circa 1800-1810
    Pen, pencil and watercolour on paper, 283 x 200 mm
    Lent by the Kunsthaus, Zürich on loan from the Gottfried Keller Foundation


    two rembrandts

    how many rembrandt's have you seen? im not sure you mean originals? not many to recollection

    Hendrickje in Bed. c. 1648. Oil on canvas. National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh, UK.
    his second wife

    Saskia as Flora. 1634. Oil on canvas. The Hermitage, St. Petersburg, Russia.
    Saskia was his first wife

    he 2

    and what does Rembrandt's Jewish Bride have to do with any of this?

    Nothing sir, not a thing, at a ll . just beauty , the beauty of it ......


    is there not more ? mister D?

    Ach, indeed there is and I'll tell more
    more,I'll tattle tale bit and piece
    of their strange story, s ortie
    their strange of love ~ and sail ~

    will you tell it whole?

    well, you know me, i'll tell it as I can
    as I can & thinkin of her ` grace and beauty
    her lips untasted

    her haunches unloved by me


    there s a certain certain lady he thinks of daily. pretty much ~ wondering what happened to them, how it came to be, what passed between between their between their hips never hit in between their lips ~




    rotate the sun a glance

    mooring at its pace

    steadied by tallness and gall in weather
    winking sun blustered by her rope maid
    ferrying the weight

    sleuth sketches of

    there'd be no cope for this processing o f sun and wind
    trampolined by its desire


    hidden here
    to you


    spry book

    how many common

    phrases in your book of bullies?

    no to lisbon treaty

    ______clicketyclack compilationof blawgs relisboalisbon not treaty for Eire

    irish reject the Lisbon Treaty

    The Irish have rejected the Lisbon Treaty.

    Nosemonkey, a committed pro-European, has some advice for the EU leaders:

    Note to the EU: for Christ’s sake, can we please actually THINK about the next step this time? In detail? Preferably without the assumption that the people are too stupid to notice what you’re trying to pull on them.

    The European project was started by political elites as a trade association with delusions of grandeur. It is now much, much more than that, with competence creep after competence creep. It is too unwieldy and unaccountable for the people of a continent with more than its fair experience of despotism and dictatorship not to start taking offence if it continues down the route of “what we say goes, and there’s not much you can do about it”.

    The Lisbon Treaty is dead - don’t make the same mistake as last time of trying to dress up the corpse to make it look a bit different. Accept the fundamental failure of the treaty (and constitution), and accept that a far more radical solution is vital. A complete rethink. A deep, serious analysis of what the EU is and what it is for - and, most importantly, what the European people think it is for."

    __________lot of happiness expressed over this vote...

    reland's voters have rejected the Lisbon Treaty.

    It is with some joy and satisfaction that I write this, since I have been actively involved in the campaign for quite some time. The result, which has surprised many people on both sides of the debate, is by far the clearest and most positive expression of true Irish democracy since the (even more unexpected) election of President Mary Robinson in 1990

    Friday, June 13, 2008

    Ireland votes ‘No’! - Rejoice! Rejoice! Rejoice!

    Today, Cranmer is Irish. He is delighted. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man certainly availethed very much indeed, even when pitted against the colossal spiritual and political influence of the Holy See. Plucky little Ireland, the only country in the EU to hold a referendum on the Lisbon Treaty, has rejected it, and has done so convincingly. This latest rebuff follows two years of ‘reflection’ after the peoples of France and Holland rejected the Treaty’s previous incarnation, the Constitution for Europe. And, according to reports, Brussels has no Plan B, and so the EU is plunged into turmoil and chaos. _____ Irish say No, to Treaty. Irish remain peaty on their feety.
    what on earth is happenin' with the irish? are they choosin' famine over feastin?

    Cowen facing EU nightmare

    By Fionnan Sheahan Political Editor
    Saturday June 14 2008

    TAOISEACH Brian Cowen faces a political and economic nightmare -- at home and abroad -- after voters resoundingly rejected the Lisbon Treaty.

    The defeat of the treaty, by a majority of almost 110,000, creates a major political headache across the European Union.

    Just a month after becoming Taoiseach, Mr Cowen failed his first test as leader of the country, with the 'No' camp winning by 53pc to 47pc -- and a European treaty being defeated here for the second time.

    Mr Cowen goes to Brussels next week to explain the way ahead following the most embarrassing result in Ireland's history in the European Union.

    At his first European Council meeting as Taoiseach, Mr Cowen faces a frosty reception from his EU counterparts..."

    Europe struggles to keep reform plans alive after Irish reject treaty

    By John Lichfield in Paris and Vanessa Mock in Brussels
    Saturday, 14 June 2008

    Political leaders across Europe were trying desperately last night to keep EU reform plans on track after Irish voters overwhelmingly rejected the Lisbon Treaty.

    The French and German governments led calls for the other 26 EU nations to push ahead regardless with the ratification of the treaty. But senior officials in Brussels accepted that – unless Ireland could be persuaded to stage a second referendum next year – seven years of painful negotiations to simplify and streamline the governance of the EU had come to nothing

    what is the treaty?



    Transformer le temps en volume....

    Duration: 12:06Recorded: 17 November 2007Location:nanterres
    Mister Genet discussed . as the volume of time. pages. flutter. gather rise, rose to end .

    autre version ici

    volume de temps beauté de temps miroir

    Je ne parle pas d’une beauté académique, mais de l’impalpable — innommable — joie des corps, des visages, des cris, des paroles qui cessent d’être mortes, je veux dire une joie sensuelle et si forte qu’elle veut chasser tout érotisme .


    ...'Europe holds its breath for result of Ireland's vote -......

    old yer breath Europe ` held yer breathing European
    holding yer breath yer breast
    yer girth
    told tale of swimming seas
    the Irish ~
    Swimmin the Irish sea

    swim th e breath sea Irish girth

    Europe holds its breath for result of Ireland's vote - Europe, World - The Independent

    dos it spIll oveR?

    sow ?


    doe s it m
    an you have no body?

    meaning brimming


    clopped clIp

    that was clopped lip hip. not hipblossom lip|working wit h strike thru's tricky liable to strike thru the whole page! html! or bust!|buster swell breast|beast of Mona's Jill Jack the horner fictiion herself rempli remplissant des mœurs

    delightful dainties

    yer [her]legs are long as desire
    be they short or winged
    with sweet flames

    kissed hipped And a hit

    an a hip kiss dance

    do your eyes

    Do // lips weave?


    long legs
    short legs dresses

    beauty desire


    love pant legs
    me dear
    and hip

    and a hip

    yer slip slip
    clip clip
    clop clop
    slip no one wears slips anymore
    yer [hip]slip slips
    falls off clipcLOP

    an a hip


    and ye r fictions

    and yer diction fictions? mister almost doctor D ?

    we're working on that hem them theirs this his


    you meant Limousin didn't you?

    of course, course, of course, I meant Limousine Limousin

    goin coming ~

    whats goin on ` Paper all over the place ~ B ed couch right side up ~ upright
    clothes half hanging out of bag baggage is this arrival departure?

    movin moving moving not a movie or film but movin' movin ' yep
    yea after the time all the time time it took to

    where you to go ? go to where do you know?

    Roma,Bucherest Athens, Naples, then Athens, Naples Vienna, then zigzag yer tagging slope souped up can heading thiswaythat

    'n Paris Paris Paris ?

    Tousjours Paree Paree Paree mon maree Paree Lutetia mon amour
    Amour Lutetia mon Lutet amour amant~

    Will you go go?
    where it will go you?

    go go
    go go

    Montreal Vancouver Toronto Sussex Dublim London Paris Tours Lyons Limousine


    some time i n summer you are love
    meted mitts glove baseball.

    word before mouth is pop goes the weasel
    yer shelving day fishes,
    crêpe soles
    filet de mignon

    now what's that hatch
    double speak hitching from yer mouth
    tied anchor man to keel

    her breasts floated
    were flotillas

    whole armadas of them
    dumb before the world's savvy passage

    savoy honey brained her braided hair

    hummer and honey
    down the long wind of her neck

    them street in Venice, Roma, Vienna
    chariot of the gods

    You Mister Duffy Verdana speak of these damn towns and city as if you know them.. what's the lowdown with that, if I can be so informal?

    Low down is hoedown I was expecting a phone call that never got back the president of love married the sister of trees. mrs. schizophrene and her boyfriend.