Lost links & Re-ups

On any post, if the link is no longer good, leave a comment if you want the music re-uploaded. As long as I still have the file, or the record, cd, or cassette to re-rip, I will gladly accommodate in a timely manner all such requests.

Slinging tuneage like some fried or otherwise soused short-order cook

03 August 2008

ÉÉN - ZEVEN - DRIE - DRIE - VIJF - ZEVEN

Perceptions. Delusion indeed.
Imemat hipped me to the Conet Numbers Project.
I went over to Egg City Radio
& downloaded the four files.
I've been playing them continuously since I got them.
Matt said about listening to them
while falling asleep.
I have them on random play all the time.
After the first day & night,
I duct-taped the headphones to my head.
I haven't been to work or outside
since I started re-programming.
Except at nighttime,
to do its bidding.
Last Saturday I charged up my mp3 player,
pocketed a back-up battery,
pulled on a Jets stocking cap to cover the duct-tape,
& cranked up the volume.
I headed out looking for some asshole
being himself at some Citizen's expense.
I was packin' & I knew what to do.
It was clearing my mind of everything
but purpose.
Coupla a bangers snatchin' a purse
off some lady with three kids.
Fuck.
I just took'em out & walked away.
The lady was, like,"Thanks Mister!"
Mister. Yeah! MISTER!!!
I've just been working hard in my room
most of the time,
decoding more & more of the code.
I order delivery pizza & leave the money out front,
wait 'til the delivery dude splits,
& then grab the pie, 2liter soda, & a salad
(I'm watchin' my health).
The random play factor is actually a God-send.
My next assignment this week-end
is even more empowering.
Then I need to begin
scouring the Web for more clues
& missing segments of the code.
I am being re-programmed
for the Final act.
Hope to see you soon.
Hope to see you soon.

2 comments:

  1. ...the walrus is in the jaccuzi...

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  2. Beautiful.

    As I scanned and read - scanned and read - what I pictured with terrible clarity in my mind's eye was the monochromatic leaves of a 1940's calendar fluttering towards the edges of the screen in quick succession ; each numerically stamped date growing ever larger and bolder until superseded by the next.

    A riot of numbers. Tumbling. Tumbling.

    For god's sake don't attempt the lottery! There's a riot of numbers and all of them are red.

    ReplyDelete