Samhain

Some of Sophie's photos of our Halloween Party. Which was legendary! :)


Marcus and the Mason (Garudas)


My Pumpkin

130 More photos can be seen on www.lomohomes.com/phia237

Hangtime

It's cliff top, wind tunnel, precipice, hangtime, as always. I'm footclad in heavy timeboots, which won't cease this indecent swelling. Hard barnacles on the belly of the Kraken. I'm swaying above the gaping maw of forever. Below in the oily darkness, the terror toothed tapeworm of time, can scream and wheeze it's sordid song as loud and long and bloody as it pleases. For, hanging on for dear life next to me, my girl is smiling through into me and splashes my skull, with her good tears.

Spew.

Sometimes I just have to break up the day with a short stream of consiousness mess. A galavanting colossas of jabbawocky funboy (glazed and varnished deep into it's stinking heart), wordness and rhyme time. Don't search for meaning. Only the Behemoth knows. And only it's very own chunky knees are allowed to shiver quiver in anticipation of the falling skies and eyeball lullaby's. Over in the East, where the Taliban play hopscotch under pink canvas bungalow rooftops, the music sounds like nothing else. Ever. And every silken oilbird feather, spins on it's swivel-joint axis, allowing helicopteraptor shenanigans...which block out this Turquoise sungod bigface! I'm desperately spewing Vom-art out into the etha, a poorman's talentless gargle acid splash, right up the dirty walls of my boring shrinking prison cell universe. My feet swell, unused and bruised and used. My brain, is a pancake crapattack. I sleep now...

The Jewel

Way way off, so far away that they seem to shatter through the oxygen blue reality, razor cut silver flecks of distant travellers, zip past in the stratosphere. It is close to silent in my shiny new glass sarcophagus. Smells like a new car. Whatever that means!? Just the soft looping music of the Skysuit sleepmode tickles my ear drums. Held in place, between the teeth of titanium vice mouthes. I'm fastened into the latest, greatest Skysuit model, the Jewel. It's both a retrobeast, modelled on a classic car from 1999 or some shit, and a one man flying machine for both sides of the Ozone layer. Complete with no less than three lazerail clasps, a genuine Compact Disc player and an old school oak interior. A Duel Mode, a relatively new concept in personal transport as it embraces the potential of all the disused roads, down on Terra Firma. Making for a cheaper ride. However, it proper chafes! I didn't upgrade to the flexy skin upholstery. I'll have bed sores before touchdown.
Sending the right thought patterns into the machine's matrix, triggers the Humdrive into action. Within seconds the Satnav knows which bay, street, province, city, country, planet I'm on. I guess that means the M.A.N know's where I am aswell. Can he see my skinny middle finger? Probably. Fukk him. I set the 90's rave compilation to Velocity Sensitive, allowing the tempo of the music to adjust based on the speed of my ship and I ascend and join the rat race above the clouds. Again.

This, bird in a cage, frustration...

While the slowly sinking orange lantern sun
the heavy roaring furnace eye
screams beams of burning energy
into everything

painting aurulent light onto
a kaleidoscope of barking fingers
dripping amber sap lenses
and these all consuming angry bars of steel

This, bird in a cage, frustration
swaying under jitter spinning autumn leaf cacophony
slams and smashes me
angrily in the spinning October winds of change.

Swift and silent air gliding abandonment
and the liberating freedom of our cloud shapes
beckon with curling smokey hands
dirty palms hidden in the skin of a glossy white
clown glove facade

however, for now, it seems
barely permeating these translucent barriers between us
must suffice

so with tragic clatter-tongue love songs
crackling waves of radiation
fragile intangible dreamtime worlds
and binary kisses

I find you

My Desk

Just because I like the photo. :)

When I locked myself out...

Bookworm

Deep down dark, in the dusty heart of a towering library, with looming walls of ancient leather bound mouthes, a girl with sparkle starburst eyes and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, stands high above the ground, with books all around, on a creaking oak ladder. With a swift kick, a well practiced flick of the ankle, she sends herself skimming, with a grinding slide, on a sideways clatter ride. On oil and steel, her tool for the detailed scanning of the ballet of the world in paper, never fails her. The all surrounding amalgamation of almanacs and anthologies in slivers of pulp, represent but the tiniest facet of the infinite human imagination. It is true, our frail attempts at documenting the universe will always be restricted by the tragically blinkered eyes of language. However, she finds it all so overwhelmingly beautiful...and if the walls do indeed harbour invisible ears, they'd surely hear her sing their praises into the rafters.

Fire.

Click the fire for more photos of the mighty Malcfest!

You lot.

If you come here. Let me know. Nobody leaves comments or anything in the shoutbox. I'll write on here a lot more if I think it's going to be read. :)

Formatting AnnA ((text for forthcoming poster project))

Before the Real Doll [AnnA Edition] can use a newly purchased Lifecard or a card which was used by another automoton, the card
must be formatted (initialized) by the Real Doll.

See Fig.r06-04.

1.
While holding down [CANCEL] under the skin at the base of the spine, press [STIMULATE] in the clitoral interface. A slight stroke is all that is needed for this process to work. Make sure no Fear Mods have been loaded, to avoid any unwanted defense reactions from AnnA. The eyes close, and her heaters should engage in seconds.

2.
Press Navel [DEL] button.
The mouth opens and exhales, and formatting is executed. The dots in the microdisplay in the roof of the mouth blink while formatting is in progress. When the dots stop blinking and remain off, formatting is completed. AnnA's eyes will find and track you. Look into her eyes, to save your image into her Master Recognition directory. Once the short process of face/pheromone recognition is complete, AnnA will show a [level 2] smile.

Never turn off the Real Doll or remove the Lifecard while the dots are blinking. This can result in damage to the card, and may cause unwanted convulsions and even render the Real Doll unusable.
* When you format a card, all previously saved Lifedata that was in the card will be erased.
* In some cases, a Lifecard which was formatted by the Real Doll may no longer be usable by other Lifecard devices, notably the Amputee models of the Real Beast range.