THE CURSE MARKET: OUTLINE + 36 CURSES

No Monday Music (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) because my tinnitus is acting up but I did write up a rough outline of this place called 'The Curse Market' + 36 curses over the last couple of hours (which I may or may not post more about in future, who knows):

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Many cursers in the curse markets are themselves cursed and are in fact cursed to sell curses (although they’re forbidden from saying this). Scholars believe this is all because hundreds of years ago when the first cursers set up shop they set up curses to curse those who attacked them, stole from them or otherwise wronged them to sell curses. Over the centuries the ratio of cursed to non-cursed cursers has gradually shifted in favour of the former, although it's pretty hard to tell because they're all so quiet about it.

A long history and a bevy of ablative curses have produce a kind of perimeter wall of grotesqueries warning incomers effectively of what awaits them if they put a foot wrong. Of course the curse-market also needs customers so the cursers are quick to equip them with geas-bound guides with comprehensive knowledge of local curses who are willing (geased) to throw themselves in the way of said curses to keep the trade flowing. Due to this there’s a continual need to replenish the geased guides, so you’re recommended to come in and at least pretend you’re going to spend big if you want to stay off the shortlist for geasing. As a result the curse market itself is a very upmarket place, with lots of satellite markets operating outside the main curse perimeter.

The whole place is tied up in so many curses there’s a kind of Mutually Assured Destruction situation going on and no one would be dumb enough to break the detente and anyone who attacks the place is without fail carried off by one of any number of ablative curses. If anyone tries to interrupt business or just gets unlucky, roll on the following table (2d6)

1. 
   
1. Purple streamers of flame erupt from their eyes and a violent ear-splitting keening is heard and then their heads explode into a glittering crystalline vapor
2. They shit out their entire skeleton immediately
3. They are rooted to the ground where they become all stiff & woody and aggressive hornets make a nest of them. They are alive forever
4. Their clothes come to life and strangulate them and then pilot the body for kicks til it rots
5. They shrink and shrink and shrink and scream higher and higher and higher until the sound becomes inaudible which is also the exact point at which they become invisible to the naked eye
6. Their entire skeleton and system of organs gets drunk into one limb which becomes the size their body was and which the other now-atrophied limbs hang off like cartoonish homunculoid twigs. (2:Leg 3:Arm 4:Tooth 5:Tongue 6:Eye 7:Head 8:Torso 9:Ass 10:[REDACTED] 11:Toe 12:Finger)
2. 
   
1. Their entire skin melts off to reveal a blackened skeleton which runs North, immediately
2. Spectral hands and sticks smash them to pieces like a pinata & greedily gobble their innards with phantasmal muzzles
3. Their right leg swings up at an impossible angle and kicks them in the face until they die and their right foot’s embedded permanently in the gelatinous mass of splintered bone which was their face. If they don’t have a right leg, lucky them
4. They sneeze and keep sneezing until they’ve sneezed out their entire brain, emerging all at once through a distended nostril or gradually like a very thick strand of sphagetti
5. They rise (very) gradually and inexorably into the sky, never to be seen again. This takes about an hour so the local kids often throw rocks at them
6. An array of many-jointed bone-white arms with many-jointed fingers burst from the ground and cover mouth and eyes and drag the cursee screaming down into a hole they very neatly sweep surrounding dirt onto and pat down smooth before retreating
3. 
   
1. They begin to unravel slowly from the top down in micron-thick layers until they’re a pair of shoes running and trailing a very long strand
2. A 16-ton anvil falls out of the sky and right onto their heads, pretty much vaporising them
3. Everything that touches them abrades them slightly. There is no action which can be taken to prevent the abrasion which does not make things worse.
4. A hurricane sweeps by and sucks them and no one else up and then departs
5. A small hole in the ground appears a few miles away. Circumstances will conspire to move them toward it and keep them from moving away from it and when they’re inside it they can’t move at all.
6. A giant bird sweeps down and grabs them in its claws then flies away. This all happens faster than you’d expect
4. 
   
1. A small face (with nose) appears under their chin and keeps laughing and whispering lies about them and every time it embarasses them their face gets a little smaller and moves up towards the forehead and the small face gets bigger and moves to replace it
2. Every sounds becomes loud and unbearably intense and sounds roughly like the first thing you hear when you wake up but forever until their ears liquefy and they kill themselves just to be free of the noise
3. They melt down into a primordial soup from which slimy teratic (insectoid, amphibian, etc.) forms crawl
4. Crows fly down from out of sight and attempt pluck out their eyes & tongue. This all takes longer than you’d expect, much to their detriment
5. With lightning speed they’re chopped up, hurled into the air, flambéed, and then their flambéed chunks fall into an exquisite china bowl.
6. They sink slowly into their shadow which after the fact burps and snakes off toward the horizon
5. 
   
1. Everywhere they go they seem to end up lower down than they were before and the Sun seems further away and they get colder and wake up sometimes covered in gravedirt and spiders until one day they’re just gone
2. They are condemned to dance the most exquisite dance they’ve ever danced until and even a little bit after they die of exhaustion
3. They are struck by lightning about 5 or 6 times
4. A circle of 7 skeletons arise around them and perform the skeletarantella at a very rapid pace, gradually flensing the flesh from their bones until they’re an immaculate skeleton joining the dance and they all fade to invisibility in dusky light
5. A candlewick sprouts from their head and it catches alight with a (1:purple 2:blue 3:green 4:rainbow 5:black 6:red, screaming) flame and they melt away pretty fast
6. The Sun reaches down a long flaming spoke of light and grabs them and pulls them up into it and there’s a faint sizzle (”TSSS”) and a wisp of white smoke if you like.
6. 
   
1. A witch doctor rises up out of the soil, shoots red magic at them which makes their head wither & shrink and then rushes over & beheads them and then departs with the head
2. A huge human foot steps on them then lifts as if walking on (its leg towers up out of sight)
3. More blood than could possibly be in their body geysers from all orifices and they fly away like a deflating balloon, spinning wildly
4. An huge iron maiden swings up from their shadow, shuts on them, then rumbles and rockets off into the sky
5. Spiders swarm from their mouth & eyes and bite them & keep swarming until they’re covered and the chittering has drowned out the screaming and then they disperse leaving nothing
6. A beam of moonlight arcs down from the moon and blasts them and causes uncontrollable fungal growth which engulfs them in moments

MONDAY MUSIC #2 - PADS, DRONES, CONSISTENCY

[The Three Degrees - The Heaven I Need]

Transcendent. Song glides with no interruptions from start to finish - no discontinuities. The tape fuzz is essential to this (this I think explains the dreamlike sense of old recording partially - this is why lo-fi is dreamy - you have this bubble of tape fuzz tying everything together - you glide in, you glide out -  immerse in it. This is also why I think this era is so rich in that old psychedelic nostalgia - the tape hiss! It ties everything together in a dreamy consistency wherein things flow in and out of each other, within which they're reconciled). This plus the harmonies (ie. the harmonies harmonise with the tape-fuzz). A plateau.

You can explain the sense of Boards of Canada with this: "Warm" = "Organic" = "Soft" = "Continuous-Consistent" (as in the consistency of a pudding) - no edges. Maybe this sense of consistency speaks back to early childhood when life is an undifferentiated blur of sense & sensation.

The tape-fuzz blurs the sound - blurs destroy boundaries. For me, I always think of things which destroy boundaries as Dionysian and things which make boundaries as Apollonian. S/A/W's music is very Apollonian, intricate . A good example of what I consider Apollonian music is the riff from Video 2000's 'Phantom (It's Like This)' [Which itself is from Tatsuro Yamashita's 'Music Book']. The Apollonian moment is everything clicking - meshing, interlocking perfectly. 0:46 - 1:00 on Video 2000's 'Cruising'. Dionysian blurs, Apollonian integrates.

[Darksleep - Harvest Breed]
Organic data-storage unit British military installation on the coast attaining self-awareness Strobing grotesque scenes of body-fusion with The General's Son (A consummation) and escaping into read-of British countryside pastoral reveries (for the machine, reading is dreaming) naive reveries & visions of the British night of stars & broadcast satellites & open air & rolling hills dissolving fitfully into escape scene visions of the countryside so dreamed of close enough to smell & taste & touch the hallways dark & metal concrete buzzing lowlight KLAXON KLAXON tumble into tall grass & horizon spreading soft light barking at the heels stars sharp twinkling and clinging cleansing air the soft night under stars & freedom looming under soft night gunshot clinging gunshot in elation body numb with feeling body spilling onto British countryside the beach the sky slow shutdown.

[Drinking Their Own Nectar]

Contrast between the oceanic pads (sharp enough they feel like the rocky coast - like dolphin song), the breakbeats of machinic pulsion. Hybrid of Aphex Twin's Fenix Funk 5 & Come to Daddy.

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Same as a sauce ties flavours together, pads & drones & strings provide a beautiful consistency - but how? My working theory is the sauce provides a kind of node or locus, hub through which awareness travels smoothly from one sound, one taste to into another. Imagine a small archipelago - the pad is ocean floor which shows us they're connected. The pad is a broth in which all of the sounds are afloat intermingling and which infuses them then with this new, intermingled flavour. Lastly, the pad is a canvas, a backdrop on which sounds occur - a contextualisation. This is simple enough to explain: The pads, happening less frequently than the other noises and so the faster noises are perceived as happening within them, as within their context, hence the sense of a night looming over the scenes of the military installation. So! A theory of backdrops, sauces and pads.

MONDAY MUSIC #1

Offering sentence-long reviews-cum-expressionist-poems (!!) for music because if you want to know what you think of a song you can just listen to it so the only point of music reviews is to offer new ways of listening, means of contextualising + enriching the sounds.

[Squarepusher - Deep Fried Pizza]
FUNKY deepfried beer & pizza chillout couchcrew famicom & chicken twisties cockup carpet stains & khaki cargos

[HELLCOM - UNITY2000]
Human beings are media through which technology operates for itself. Vessel through which any number of processes operate for their own sake. We are here to consume. The images work through us. Liquid metal culture.

[Graham Kartna - JAZZGRADE_4]
Love song concocted in math class in 5th grade while staring at tree with a bird and remembering the Animaniacs Game Pack you parents bought you

[Syllabus - Is This INTERNET CLUB?]
Effortless horizontal cool timelapse of clouds moving over beach flashcut to Blondie with sunglasses smiling reclining on hood of a blue car and posing for photographs languid world turning

[Percival Pembroke - Impression STYLE (for RISC chipset)]
space signals, jupiter music. Highlands observatory station. Dawn - days revolving. Sense of planet revolving produced in stationary timelapse video. Ice, dew.

(Unfortunately lost second half which was rapturous poem of alien abduction ENCOUNTER. ENCOUNTER. One of my favourite pieces of writing)

EXCERPT FROM SOME SHIT I WROTE SOME TIME AGO

Childsborne Coronet
Half-again big as a human’s head crown of small bones bound with reddenblack iron. In black heatless flame and embossed on the inwardside band of the crown are the words “EXARCH AETR”. The flame is inextinguishable.

Imbues you with the Passion: “Children are objects to be used and exploited.”

Purpose: To command children - to separate them from their flesh-parents and to unite them

• Minor: Imbues in all children who see you a Passion of love towards you and of hatred towards their flesh-parents. After a week without seeing you, it wears off. Its intensity is equal to the intensity of your Passion.
• Major: Produces a Delusion in all children of yourself as a shining, benevolent fathermother-figure - soft edges and warm lights. Its intensity is equal to the intensity of your Passion.
• Ruling: The development of all children subject to the effects of the crown is arrested permanently - they will die when they would have had they aged normally.

Impressions: When you touch the crown, you see (Roll 1d6):

1. Several thousand broken children littering a battlefield. They cry and scream pathetically. Carrion birds circle and the sky is wet with tears.
2. At the borders of a settlement, carts of food are brought forth from the left and children wearing blindfolds from the right. The settlers look thin and very tired.
3. A house, and then a man falls backwards out the door. A girl around age 7 leaps onto his chest and beats him round the head til he stops moving. Not once does he hit back. She sees you there and runs into your arms.
4. Children dancing in half-light around a man wearing the crown. He is howling and sobbing. He commanded them to do this.

THE BEARER OF THE CROWN - IN THE BLACK FOREST OF LUNACY

Beneath the illusion he is a small, ugly man with long gangly limbs, broken fingernails and a mask carved of wood. He will not remove the mask. He commands the children in elaborate plays dramatising small moments of disappointment and rejection from his childhood in oblique symbolism. Naked children in bright colours tumble cross stone floors in dust and torch-crackle, and one painted black with charcoal weeps alone in a corner. A young boy pretends to be trampled - thin wiry girls with high shoulders on stilts leaping to and fro, burning with play and significance. He is tormented by sexual desire for them which he refuses to act on. He demands they wear masks at all times. A child with downcast head stands at the edge of pit teeming with tiny girls, brunettes with freckles some, showered with petals. Wilted flower in left hand and crucifix broken in right, and a wilted dove taxidermied to a mask through which wings he sees always. He has a particular love for the leading-role boys, who are lavished with fruit-honey feasts gathered from the above. Time no longer matters to the children - they are steeped in the eternal time of play and ritual. It tends to be night.

THE CREATIVE PROCESS: A DIAGRAM

(Better: One creative process.)

"DIFFERENT KIND OF SPACEMEN. FROM A DIFFERENT KIND OF SPACE."

(Ctrl+Click for full res:)

ADDENDUM:

"Under special circumstances, it "eats" other matter. In order for this to happen, the strange matter has to be more stable than the matter it meets and not repel it. If those conditions are met, the other matter will "want" to convert to strange matter, and contact between the two will get things going. The result would be an ever-growing ball of strange matter, burning through matter like a fireball. For such a disaster scenario to occur on Earth, strange matter would have to remain for more than a fraction of a second at earthly pressures, and we don't know if it can do that."

Notes on Paranoia

"Generally speaking, if you see other people before they see you, they /won't/ see you. I have even managed to get past a whole block of guides and shoeshine boys in Tangier this way, thus earning my Moroccan moniker: 'El Hombre Invisible'."

- William Burroughs, Ten Years and a Billion Dollars

That which in seeing goes unseen (the difficulty of eye contact).

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PARANOIA MODEL: Infinite recursion of second-guessing - wave-function collapse. Nothing is as it seems - this is a fundamental law - and everything is a front for some-everything else. Masks behind masks behind masks to infinity.
If, by definition, nothing is as it seems, then why does any one thing appear as it does at that moment, and not some other way?
Everything is up in the air until it’s certain, and once it’s certain the only thing you can be sure of is it’s not as it appears
Everything always goes deeper - an infinity of layers concealing an eternally inaccessible core. Mirror core of mystic moment's fleeting

That which in being grasped eludes grasping, such that its eluding you becomes proof that you've grasped it - they're cunning.

https://youtu.be/OXx1HSVV-XA Incompetence becomes supercompetence as every mistake becomes evidence of the conspiracy that you've uncovered
The inaccessible core underlying all this is intent. Assumed intent & intelligence (which are identified) tend to infinity.
Intent as control. Slingshotting between absolute power and powerlessness. The Conspiracy is overwhelming and yet we can fight it.
Part 2: The CIA mockingbird shills are all over YouTube like chemtrails and solar flares over the Earth

Have you read the Hopi Indian prophesies? Theirs is ancient intel - leaked by whistleblowers of the past, a whistleblower's whistleblower

The alien Greys are the true reptilians - the Greys are reptilian, but they are not shapeshifters (shapeshifters do not exist).

Well, Project Bluebeam is a disinformational psyoptical hoax. Why would elites weaponize space if the threat to New World Order was not real?

Meanwhile, Earth media does a full blackout because it is censored conspiracy, just like our secret Earth history so long suppressed.

The CIA probably planted the disinformation about a pole shift causing mass enlightenment and spiritual transformation during the apocalypse

When the end of the world is upon us the end game that was orchestrated through black ops is carried out by CIA and the black intel agencies

Part 3: Black ops as black magic

We're all undercover, we've all forgotten and we don't know it yet - there's no difference.
The perfect agent is one whose mind can't be read - not even by themselves. The perfect agent doesn't think themselves an agent - total cover.

Totally unaware of their role and so able to carry it out flawlessly - and unable to divulge information. Anamnesis as Total Recall paranoia

God as the head of a vast all-encompassing Intelligence Agency dating back to before dawn of time

Dawn of time a conspiracy, part of the plan - the condition of planning. The Urscheme, the final initiation - a handshake and a pat on the back

Into the black circle counselling time, to the room outside space as the absence of light - total blackops at absolute zero. Welcome back.

Part 4: Chemtrails, raw milk, the undermining of our Judeo-Christian values, Obama’s birth certificate, reptilians and the Gay Agenda

Exopolitics on the Astral Plane, the Rand Corporation, fluoridated water, the Fourth Reich, the Annunaki, multiculturalism and vaccination

the suppression of homeopathic medicine, violent video games, publicly funded healthcare and peak oil Satanism, GM crops, FEMA death camps

===

"You are hollow. You are only the shell, the difference between inside and outside. There is nothing inside. Sex causes you to die. You are dark inside. You must keep secrets interminably. You must not reveal yourself - you are pure, untouchable."

“The Board is at the heart of everything and it is nowhere - the condition of everything, omnipresent and insubstantial. Water for fish.”

Wander

I forget everything I do. I don't know if this is normal. Everything happens so much and I do so much and . I write and forget I have written it. I have completely externalised some function of my memory, some part of my brain, which has become entirely prosthetic. I would like to externalise my whole self, into everything. I would like to be hands of the world - telekinesis is the fantasy of this. I want to replace all my parts, rip myself up and start over from anything. I become everything I see, the operations of the trees in wind, fire, my body which looks as if puppeted small fleshy hanging-man, marionette. I become water and take a piece into me - it becomes function, a brain. The water brain, image of thought which processes experience, transforms it - the infinite alchemy of thought. I take the operations of water and put them to use. I don't start from anything.

I love the sensation of straining against language, pushing it. Omnipotence. I often wish words would have less syllables than they did - I wish I could densify them to a straight beam of information blasted into the forehead. Total schizocommunication, mind control - mindmeld. I want words to vibrate in ways that they don't - half-measures of irreducible quantities. Slow speeds - massive.

-

Lord knows if this will work - hopefully you come away with some image, sensation for thought. The language is not working for me - certain things would take more space to become expressible. Wordless scream sky of infinity sunset red stretching to molten - the train-thought. Cool memories.

-

Every experience is pure art - people sound like muffled radios. Falling between the gap.

I am trying to communicate what it's like to be me - I am trying to give you a new brain to work with, to put on. A brain is a thinking machine.

Sober nervousness, cold dead uncertainty, quiet hysteria. Everything can be put to producing thought. Everything serves as a figure, a thinking machine. Everything can be described in terms of every other thing. Sober. Short, declarative sentences. Almost a monotone. Steady.

---

I am a network of machines-prosthetics. I am a hangwork-assemblage of realities - a machine. A composite of water, a tarot card, history, 2001, a laptop, synchrotron, centrifuge, colour blue, the third eye, the space program, a trumpet. "I lost myself in that city over 20 years ago."

hallucinogenic and vivid - it's almost a matter of dragging your eyes across pages and seeing what sticks.

---

"Try to imagine a being who is not a mere colourless conglomerate soul composed of an indefinite number of ill-assorted and antagonistic individual souls, but consists also of houses, street-processions, churches, the Liffey, several brothels, and a crumpled note on its way to the sea – and yet possesses a perceiving and registering consciousness!"

"Kodachrome. Captain Kirby, MI5, studies the prints. They showed: (1) a thick-set man in an Air Force jacket, unshaven face half-hidden by the dented hat-peak; (2) a transverse section through the spinal level T-12; (3) a crayon self-portrait by David Feary, 7-year old schizophrenic at the Belmont Asylum, Sutton; (4) radio-spectra from the quasar CTA 102; (5) an antero-posterior radiograph of a skull, estimated capacity 1500 cc.; (6) spectro-heliogram of the sun taken with the K line of calcium; (7) left and right handprints showing massive scarring between the second and third metacarpal bones. To Dr. Nathan he said: 'And all these make up one picture?"

---

The light touch, the faint impression. Melancholy of snow falling. Loss.

The mystery - dumb perceiving consciousness . only in hints, speaking oneiric

-

"Like every true prophet, the artist is the unwitting mouth-piece of the psychic secrets of his time, and is often as unconscious as a sleep walker."

So what do I do now I know this?

-
Always beside the point