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Aggressive Genetic EntropyI wish I could run
As fast as I used to
I wish I could race you
To some arbitrary line
I used to go
It used to be wild
Until I got slow
And where did everybody go
I cannot see
I cannot hear
I am deaf, blind
Am I really alive
My voice is broken
Children fear me
My skin is cracked
I am old
My entropy's maxed out
My final curtain call
My encore taunts my fall
Life is anti-climactic
I want to write to you
Just tell me your name
And I want to share
But nobody cares
I don't deserve this
It is not fair
I want to get out of here
I want to get out
I cannot bear it
I cannot reach up
I am broken
My bones they snap and groan
I cannot see you
I cannot hear you
I am deaf, blind
(But you're not there at all)
My entropy's maxed out
My final curtain call
My encore taunts my fall
Life is anti-climactic
(You're not there at all)
Debating a Homophobic Creationist p2extremerebirth1
Here's the one question I have for you. If I'm teaching my kid to hate gays, how does that effect you?
If you're teaching tollerance to homosexuals and the school isn't mentioning the subject? How does that effect your child? He/She is still learning, only from you
If I take my kid to see a conversion therapist. Who's business is that other than mine?
The point is. Religion would never have killed anyone if it wasn't for government. 90% of the horrors of the world that are being blamed on religion are the result of government. If people practiced christianity personally, there never would have been the great crusades. Who was responsible. It' snot religion it's government. So how is it okay for government to infringe on my rights? If I want to teach religion to my kid, how is government, which has done way worse for society than religion, going to tell my kid that he needs to learn acceptance. Becuase that's what I was saying. I never one time claimed that the governmen
Mormonism - The Two Faced ChurchThe "suggested post" currently occupying my Facebook news feed is from Mormon.org. It depicts a happy black family, along with some cringe-worthy message.
Now, those unfamiliar with the cult of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints might be interested to know that, quite apart from being an extortion racket, and quite apart from it being built on a premise that is pernicious and absurd and an offense to reason and the human mind, Mormonism has, from its earliest days, held racist and white supremacist views as being central to its doctrine.
It wasn't until the late 70s that black people were allowed to become full members of the church, and there has still been no repudiation of, or apology for, those views that excluded them for over a century. (Those were: that black people are the cursed descendants of ancient and corrupt Biblical figures like Cain, that they did not side with God in his battle against the devil, that they are savage and unintelligent, etc.)
So, if you happen to come ac
Debating a Homophobic CreationistDebating a Creationist on the Subject of Homophobia
The following debate ensued when I issued a response to a poem entitled "United States of Sodom" by the user Extremerebirth1. I encourage any and all readers to look up the poem for themselves, as it provides context. In short: United States of Sodom expressed a mildly homophobic sentiment. At my behest, Extremerebirth1 has elaborated on his during his contribution to the debate. Readers may take offense, but I believe it's worth pointing out in advance the patience and civility he has shown in responding to my oft lengthy and confrontational replies.
The opening remarks are included in for the sake of context and continuity as much as anything. The debate itself is at its most interesting a little further down. The quality of my own contribution, too, is at its best after the opening exchanges
Finally, in the event that our correspondence continues, I shall be sure to keep this file updated until the conclusion of the discu
First World ProblemsFirst World Problems
"There are people starving in Africa; I really need to stop complaining."
A phrase one has become accustomed to hearing from those who have just spent the 10 minutes prior complaining about something that isn't AIDS, rape, or famine.
Bollocks, I say, unless I really don't care for your complaints; this is a question of drama.
Firstly, it should be pointed out that, in defending the value and legitimacy of our first world problems, and our subsequent right to spend our time complaining about them, I am not saying that I, or anyone else, am obliged to care about yours. Nor are you obliged to care about mine. Nor am I obliged to care if you don't.
Secondly, humility and a functioning sense of perspective are traits of a virtuous character. If you come across someone who genuinely believes their relationship troubles, or their outrage at one twat or another not making it to the final of Britain's Dancing Strictly with the X Factor on Ice, are le
The Newtown Legacy?April - two teenage schoolboys shot and killed 12 schoolmates and a teacher at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado, before killing themselves.
July 1999 - a stock exchange trader in Atlanta, Georgia, killed 12 people including his wife and two children before taking his own life.
September 1999 - a gunman opened fire at a prayer service in Fort Worth, Texas, killing six people before committing suicide.
October 2002 - a series of sniper-style shootings occurred in Washington DC, leaving 10 dead.
August 2003 - in Chicago, a laid-off worker shot and killed six of his former workmates.
November 2004 - in Birchwood, Wisconsin, a hunter killed six other hunters and wounded two others after an argument with them.
March 2005 - a man opened fire at a church service in Brookfield, Wisconsin, killing seven people.
October 2006 - a truck driver killed five schoolgirls and seriously wounded six others in a school in Nickel Mines, Pe
CarnevaleSon of the pauper
Dressed up as a rich man
Dancing through the moonlit square
Mixing with the noble daughters
All in masks
So no one cares
Spinning in a whirlwind coloured
Red and gold
With so much flair
He takes her hand
It takes his heart
Behind his mask he stares
The moment lingered on
We shared as one
I believed that, anyway
Just one more
Then it's gone
I fear the dance will pull us on
Later under starlight playing
Upon the water
Faces flushed and eyes ablaze
The cool air breathes
A blissful haze
A dream above the carousel
But tethered down
We don't have long
Life is short
And luck is fickle
We only ever want the mask
The moment lasted far too long
And it was gone
As brief as fireworks in bloom
Swept down canals
And dragged by currents
I should've let it go
Amongst the whores
In the absence of better
When sat with the damned
When we know nothing more
Systems and MechanicsSystems & Mechanics
PLEASE LISTEN @ WWW.SOUNDCLOUD.COM/BENMERCER
This is what we should be
Blueprints design that it's
You and me
There's no other way
And why should there be
We've been made to fit well
It's controlled chemistry
We work together
Plug in and
Synchronise with me
We're part of a
We're part of a
But you run away
In spite of everyone
We only want to
Give you what you need
A future as part
Of our machine
If you leave then
What becomes of me
(Feed the fire light)
You're tearing me
Away from home
(Feel the fire alight)
And I fear I'm
Losing my hold
(The soulless never felt so alive)
(We're part of a binary system)
Into the open
(Our function is
Sorrows of the Girl Who Cries for AbsolutionSorrows of a Boy Fighting for Redemption
(If we ever get around to recording it, I'll post the link here)
He had no choice
He had to believe him
No choice but to leave her
Because he didn't want it to end
Is it an uncaring God
Or merely human beings
Who are to blame
For breaking his heart
What new knowledge fills the eyes
Of someone who finally sees
What lies beyond the darkness
Or rests deep down, under the sea
Stare up at the endless night
Alight with burning thunder
From heaven fall the tears of a girl
She cries for absolution
I didn't think to ask
I didn't dare to say
Didn't care to look
I trusted our time to fate
Am I a treacherous man
Or simply a human being
Who can I blame
Who can I ask to take me away
What strange desire in the mind
Of someone who claims to have seen
What lies beyond the skyline
Seen the power that harnesses me
Sweep me up into endless night
Alight with burning spires of gold
From heaven beat the drums of a war
And a battle for redemption
Fly up through the end
Change this lifeHiding in the shadows
Resisting in secrecy
Trying to find a way
To change this life of misery
The future is unknown
The past is to forget
The present is dull and boring
Is this what life has to offer?
I want to change
And I keep trying
Only to fail miserabily
Every single time
eight ways you've made me small1. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
Whenever I hurt myselfI have a feeling
Someone is watching
So I look around
But there's no one to be found
on bradbury and table dancingYou are not a wordsmith
whatever you might like to think. ('Smith'
indicates precision and coldness and fire:
words are softer than that unless you mold them strong.)
It's a difficult road to follow, and not many
make it past the fork. Choose a path,
Janus says, whirligig keys spinning on his shoulders:
I am a wordworker, with my tools too crude, forming
rough-edged carvings painted with pretty imagery.
Notebooks scattered across the landscape
of a child's room, to be stumbled across,
read, red-penned, in the thick and choking breath of night.
When the bough breaks
a hanged man laughs. He carries typewriters
in his pockets, and cigarettes in the soles of his shoes.
I will never be a word mistress,
whoring myself to the speech of people I do not know and will never know me.
The oven is set to Fahrenheit 452, but the words were already aflame
before they ever took shape under your tongue.
You love everything they've ever written, and carry
unabashed loathing for every syllabl
ExpirationWith you I always feel like I’m
to break in the wrong size of shoes.
Sometimes I sit and stew
over how you’re seventeen and
you think I’m a princess
the trapped-in-a-tower kind
and how you wear suits and talk about politics
and think you know the world.
My throat interrupts with an affronted gurgling sound
sometimes when I think about you,
you deal out advice where it just isn’t called for
you quote science-fiction to justify war
and you’re seventeen years old and you think I’m a princess
and you just have no blooming idea.
Darling, one of these days I will tell you my mind
But until then we’ll never fit
I’m afraid –
that even after that day
you’ll still be trimmed hedges and
when i stimulated the prayers of rib-beat
when i licked the temple of my teeth,
speed pushed my fingers shaped like confessionals
clasped holy, carved my throat to fixing-
lover; i did this for the anthem of your eyes,
the feel of strangled feet crushing the fame of stars
for the glow of streetlight worship, for the moons
of your crooning throat, for the halls of your arms,
the strayed revels of your arms,
lover: you manufactured a god out of the drugs i used
and had me addicted to the divine, to the dignity of music
you pressed in my direction: just what i am, hallelujah,
marijuana, day and night-
lover, i fell in love with your culture
that preached the real definition of dusked kneecaps,
the plea of closeted throats, the whisper of bless,
unlearning how to say please god in borrowed tongue,
i fell in love with your attention, with nervous grace
lover. i levied the rubble of my sins
Even The City KnowsIs it at all easy?
Being by yourself, I mean.
Sitting in a car, on a train, on a bus--wherever you might be now, isn't it hard to be a drifter?
There are no men with newspapers, no women with strollers, no love-crazy teenagers, no annoying toddlers, no anybody.
You stare out the window, like there are people out there, calling your name. The trees are out there, and they've lost all their leaves, all their buds--they've lost everything, just like you.
The sky is out there, and it's gray and colorless, just like you.
The stars are out there, and they're so blown-out-of-proportion, and they're just like you, too.
But the trees, the skies, the stars, they're used to being left alone.
You lack the ebullience of your drink, but it, too, is fading.
Frost has gathered on windows, on the ground, on rivers, everywhere.
Frost comes and goes, just like you, when you finally melt away.
The city draws to darkness and quiet--it disappears, just like you.
But, even frost
Death to the LoversHe screamed,
He tore his hair from his scalp;
But it didn't bring her back.
The beautiful girl
With the gorgeous smile
And witty remarks
Would always lay six feet under.
She would lie in her death bed,
Her arms folded on her chest
And her face full of peace
Known only to the dead.
He would be the first to rot.
First his health,
Then his sanity.
She would forever feed on his emotions
Like a pretty little leech,
Sapping his well being
And happiness from her underground world.
And he would let her,
For a fool like him
Who allowed himself to love,
Your innocence is bleeding
Through every pore of your being
And I know I'm to blame.
It fills me with shame.
I lie in your bed
As I lay on my back
Through cracks in the ceiling
My demons stare back.
They whisper words
Worse than deceit
They tell me the truth.
They tell me it's wrong.
They flaunt, at me,
My bound conscience
From insurmountable, unreachable height
And here you come...
I can't help me
And you won't save you.
This is as primal as I will ever be.
We can't stop now
And it's all flying by
Our eyes stare, despair,
But we cast them aside
The devils laugh
As they watch from above
Tearing limbs from my conscience
To be slowly devoured...
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More