Archive for January, 2013


i’m desending to out of s][ace.


word.

The persistence of vision


The moving image is the welcome thief of time – greedily laps it from your eyes. It obscures its passage.

the internet too
hungry for your eyes,
hungry for yor time.

is that why everything is passing so quickly? Because our eyes are too busy?

did the acceloration of modern life happen when the tv crept inside? The traumatising birth of the silver screen?

It was the silence


I find myself on the cusp. Alone in a strange ande cold flat, the night before the beginning of three weeks training for my new job. What the job is does not matter. All you need to know is that this is a most serious undertaking for which i have temporarily relocated myself to the outskirts of glasgow.

it is cold because i cannot figure out the heating controls. Designed by a hive mind that specialises in obfuscation. I wrap myself in layers and hope i dont die of hypothermia in the night.

i have books and writing material. I have 100mb of datacap. With these i will fill my time.

With these and the silence.


In stead of some actual bloged content from me, here’s some reblogged content from the junglist-shaman

::::get some EITHER/OR/BORED love::::


I love writing. I love photography. I love blogging – and I love my subscribers. Not in a creepy The Bodyguard kinda way, but in a platonic appreciative fashion. To celebrate this love I’d like to send you a little something in that anarchronism of the physical world: The Postal Service. A print of one of my pictures with a custom poem/bit of prose on the back, ABSOLUTELY FREE. All you have to do is be one of the first 5 people to comment on this post and then email me your address to weateart AT gmail DOT com. As soon as I can I will send your personalised print/poem through teh snail mail. You never know, someday I might be famous and then it’ll be worth, like, actual money. Regardless, it’s always fun to get something unique and random in the mail. Why not get in on some of this action?


So, I know this guy called Graham Dunning. He’s an avant-garde/electronic/experimental/noise type musician and I totally rate his work. He also hosts a show on NTS radio called Fractal Meat on a Spongy Bone, which I think would make an awesome t-shirt, where he plays similar weird awesomeness. This month, the 11th of January in the year of our lobe 2013, between the hours of 8pm and 10pm, his special guest is the sintastically & satirically sardonic standup Stewart Lee. Turns out Mr Lee is fond of a lil free-improv and will be on the show selecting some of his favourite experimental records for your listening pleasure. Tune in live if you have the chance or catch the podcast in the Fractal Meat archive.


With the first part of The Hobbit annoying and delighting people in seemingly equal measure why not delve a little into some of Tolkien’s dizzying worldbuilding?

::::equilibrium:::: [ poetry ]


The equilibrium is dead
was never really drawing breath
not shallow and laboured
nor deep as a gravity well.

Those fingers on the pulse
felt only phantom convultions
confessions of the dying thralls
of the rational spirit
that still fills the half empty eyes
of the middle class.

Cat Hepburn

Scriptwriter & Spoken Word Artist

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