Astronomy Picture of the Day (APOD)

[Dekalb_Blues]

Text of message on back of pandensity picture-postcard from embodied Wanderer to its Greater Self:
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O Thou! (Sorry once again for the lack of adequate pronounery in this primitive language, which barely recognizes superorganism, much less superdimensional/densital metasuperorganism. Tant pis. Will try Arabic in next missive.) Having a wonderful embodied time in Time! Wish I were more you here-- am working on it, expect more capacity soon in your past. Meanwhilewhen, herenow's wherewhen I'm discretely/we're superimpositionally hanging out locally amongst the far-flung not to mention far-fetched Logoi of good old Infinite Timespace, amen. (See red-circled spot, obverso ^) Pardon my presumptuosity, but what was Our Infinite Creator (blessings be upon The One!!) thinking when cooking up this place?! Oy, what a one-horse backwater. If it wasn't for butter pecan soft ice cream cones, it would be a total loss. (Well, butter-rum, too. That's good stuff. In a place called Philadelphia, where the Sub-Logos evidently always shines on dysfunctional families and extended proxy families as they attempt comic hijinx, they have something called Rum Ham. But I digress.) They roll up the sidewalks around here come local horizonal Sub-Logos-set and black out for a third of their diurnal puttering-about. Of course it's failsafe contact with the Source, but even so, what with the deep-amnesiac-disinfo-dreamspinning, to the predators this is like a Smörgåsbord buffet (I jokingly refer to it as the "Smörgåsborg -- Resistance Is Futile". Ha. What?) Locals kinda weirdly dissociated from any realistic orientational context when they're "awake" but of course that's just how I like 'em: if I should accidently polarize neg. it'll be like shooting fish in a barrel, and if pos. there's just no end of do-goodism to do. BTW, consider yourself lucky I didn't send the other postcard I have, exhibiting a specimen of their bizarre psycholinguistic dubious-humour rationale vis-à-vis their local sub-Logos-orbit neighbors mixed with their mythology and unbelievable anticarnate prudery.



P.S. It seems my host planet is the only one not named after some defunct tribal god, which is some kind of progress, I guess, but of course calling a sentient body "Soil" whose predominantly their-life-affording surface is three-quarters crucial-aqueous  (not to mention 100% crucial-gaseous) is just par for their goofily-inverted provincial mindset. And of course that word is of the language of one of the tribal conquerors of the other tribe. What a place! War all the time, past, present, future, real, imaginary--- war on poverty! war on drugs! war on terrorism! war on war!! how they love it!

P.P.S. Random cool specimens along spectrum of interesting Soil-thought:
One-stop shopping for bangin' scientific-y diagrams, by a typically self-contradictedly "atheistic" True Believer in their austerely hyperrationally autistic Science God:
http://religionisabadjoke.blogspot.com/2...earth.html

A pretty poetically-written bit of laterally-thinking allegory by one of us of [redacted], gently referring to one strand in the skein of the current Great Change:
http://genius.com/John-c-wright-prologue-annotated

One of us of [redacted], joyously pigment-slinging:
http://connectedinthedeep.com/guidepost-...mall-2009/

-- Cheers! Abrazos & salaams! Jai ho! Tippecanoe & Tyler Too! L.S.M.F.T.! No Irish Need Apply! Illuminati Confirmed!
Your devoted tentacular-tip prodigal Meanderer, [untranslatable], aka Southstar aka Qalb Dass aka DeKalb Blues

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FXX's It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, "The Gang Goes to the Jersey Shore", ca. Sept., 2011
Profoundly allegorical of something. God knows just what.


The meme metastasizes across domains, further altering the already precarious local cosmic balance
of Nortonian flow and dyna-flow.


"I don't know how humanity stands it
           with a painted paradise at the end of it
           without a painted paradise at the end of it"

                  ---- Ezra Pound, The Pisan Cantos (1948), from Canto LXXIV