Skip to main content

The Expansion of Comatose (My Doctoral Thesis Can Enslave Yours)

Mr Roper turned to Joseph Goebbels and said, Mandibles redress the carcass. A laugh and instead for Herr Goebbels, who ballooned and full moon. The matter of coffee, in the reigning time, or lack of said beverage, in the reign of time. National Socialism and Fascism share a dislike of a comfortable and pleasant life, copied Mr Roper then pasted. From here to the planet of time, where it reigns, sweats Goebbels, this being sorted out in verity. Truculence manifests in coffee shortages, of which Herr Goebbels takes note. The simplicity is as of chardonnay, or blank looks when confronted by conservative anchovies. Situations inhere because we have tasted coffee and exacted strict regulations. Slave labour was a boon, and boons are good, we note in controvertible passage, freed. A boon of free labour and the midnight shattering glass become stranding units. Mr Roper intolerates with a passion, which is just as Herr Goebbels would have it. Listen, we have to feed children, believability, said Mr Roper. He stood next to Jack Tripper and it was not simple. Simple becomes a matter of regulation, and places to go when going needs. Herr Goebbels looked for a way for usefulness. It was core simple. Few towns remained. The starving to death part was overly, couldn't you tell? The main beam stutters in time, with a branch of government. We now have Mr Roper and Jack Tripper and Herr Goebbels the moebius strip. Just this, likely as plain noise.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Words

  From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
2 comments
Read more

A Child’s Proletariat Garden

  The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
1 comment
Read more

A Screed Left Town

  Inside the excuse for nation: leafy tractors (any bonding to the brownness of earth will do). A day’s march from the next day’s march, the love amongst us on a map. The map shows citadel, city in a dell, and abounding fields. The trees have effort to contend with. Bears chuff to excess in a workfarm spring. Something tall rises on the plain. Mills confirm the need for rivers. Troops stop where the food is. Terror provides the function for non-terror, in zones described as war-like. Pictures become words for people sighing. One sees a lack of food, or especial jewels, or the need for frocks made from bison. Another tower seems important for a nation’s existence, one taller than might. It will seem like tradition. You and I are left to explain.
Post a Comment
Read more