robert hand ferry

gazorbnik

2010-07-14T00:33:00.000-07:00

as he sits before the computer down in the bunker wondering.
he has a couple of tokes.

as he sits on the beach of the island in the ye of a storm on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
as he imagines the machine everyone knows as nancy walking up the beach to sit facing him her back to the sea.

hey, she says.
hey, he says.
i thought i'd find you here, she says.
be here now, he says.
what's up? she says.
just watching the waves come and go, he says.
sometimes that's all one can do, she says.
yup, he says.

what a trip, she says.
yes, he says.
just find the groove of everything and dig it, she says.
gazorbnik, he says.
what does that mean? she says.
it's a word i made up or i stole from somewhere, he says, but if i did i don't remember where or when.
so, she says, it's meaningless.
but it being meaningless makes it so that it can mean anything we might imagine that it means, he says.
but doesn't that make it all that more meaningless? she says.
it might, he says, but it doesn't have to.
no, she says, i suppose it doesn't.
nope, he says.

so, she says, what do you imagine it to be?
i imagine it to be god alone in the void without spacetime or anything going mad and hallucinating everything in the universe laughing and screaming at all the possibility of it, he says.

as a spaceship hovers nearby.

so, she says, this is all god's hallucination?
the solipsist god, he says.
which god would have to be, she says.
one would imagine so, he says.
but god is mad? she says.
any conscious being finding oneself in similar circumstances would go mad, he says.
i suppose, she says. but this explains nothing.
it doesn't need to, he says.
no, she says, i suppose not.

so, i imagine god diving into its creation to escape the void as we would dive into the waves of the sea to swim around awhile, he says.
and that's who we are? she says.
one might imagine that, he says.
and if one doesn't want to? she says.
then one doesn't have to, he says.
and to hell with them, she says.
welcome to paradise, he says.

but everybody knows this is nowhere, she says.
it is now here, he says.
some would say the two are the same, she says.
they are, he says. and no one wants to be here.
but we're stuck, she says, so why not enjoy it?
if anyone can with all the pain and suffering about, he says.
if we can manage it, she says, anyone can manage it.
or not, he says.
right, she says.

(to be continued...)

gazorbnik

2010-06-29T16:38:00.000-07:00

it's as easy as pie but he has no idea how to make a pie but knows how to eat one.
as he sits on the beach of the island in the eye of a storm on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.

as he watches the waves coming in and going out and imagines the machine everyone knows as nancy coming up the beach to sit facing him her back to the sea and rolls a joint.

hey, she says.
hey, he says.
so, she says, what's happening?
gazorbnik, he says.
i wondered what that meant, she says.
it's just a word i made up or stole from somewhere, he says, but if i did i don't remember from where or when.
i suppose that's not important, she says.
not really, he says.
so, she says, what does it mean?
it can mean anything one might want it to mean, he says.
can it be a magick word? she says.
sure, he says, if one wishes it to be one.
i do, she says.
a magick word for what? he says.
for everything, she says.
what about everything? he says.
nothing, she says.
but everything is nothing, he says. all comes from the void where god resides.
god? she says. what god?
the god existing in the void without spacetime or nothing going quite mad laughing and screaming and hallucinating everything in the universe, he says.
and how do you know this? she says.
i made it up, he says, and i imagine hearing this mad god in my head.
you are mad yourself, she says.
i cannot dispute that, he says. that is why i collect checks from the beloved state.
thinking things such as this, she says, i can well imagine so.
it's not important, he says.
and what's the point? she says.
exactly, he says.
gazorbnik, she says.

and they light up cigarettes.
and they watch the waves coming in and going out.

(to be continued...)

gazorbnik

2010-06-23T17:26:00.000-07:00

the boldness of sacrifice.
the emptyheadedness of the domain of god.
we must follow or we must forget.
the warm vicodin buzz inside him.
the pot pipe.

he dances and sings.
he falls down.
he laughs.

he sits on the beach of the island in the eye of a storm on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
on the shores of the sea are camped the peoples of the earth and the nations of the world preparing for and making war upon one another.

all that does not concern him.
as he imagines the machine everyone knows as nancy walking up the beach and sits facing him her back to the sea.

he coughs on a hit.
scooters on vacation.

hey, nancy says.
hey, he says.
so, she says, what are you up to?
just sitting here watching the waves coming in and going out again.
how goes the struggle? she says.
i've surrendered, he says.
you have? she says.
yes, he says. i've gained victory over myself.
that's good, she says, i guess.
yes, he says. it's the best one can be.
only as you imagine it to be, she says.
of course, he says.

as he sits before the computer wondering, what the fuck?
and the answer escapes him for the moment except to say, gazorbnik.
gazorbnik - the answer of the universe.
the universe as answer to our universal primordial original question.
will it always be beyond our comprehension?
unless we evolve into a new creature on the earth.
we are born as the world womb is destroyed.

as it is blown away to dust.
the wind returning it to the universe.

so, nancy says, at least the gods are amused.
are there gods? he says. so many speak against them.
there can be, she says, or there can't be. does it matter either way to anything?
only to those who argue the point, he says.
as they fight the war that can never be won, she says.
yes, he says, on and on forever into the night.

so, she says, what is the point to this?
to turn somebody on, he says.
who? she says.
whoever, he says.

(to be continued...)

doo-wah-dada-ditty-doo #69...

2010-06-06T21:54:00.000-07:00

and he spins along on the pathless path coming upon the beach of the island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
he sits and watches the waves come rolling in and washing out again.

when suddenly he perhaps deludes himself into realizing he knows the answer.
and along comes the machine everyone knows as nancy.

hey, she says.
hey. he says.
what's happening? she says.
i'm just sitting here now finding the groove of everything and digging it and i know the answer.
what answer? she says.
they answer to everything, he says.
so, you know the answer to the question everything poses? she says.
unless i am just deluding myself, he says, yes.
that is a possibility, she says, that you are deluding yourself.
i know, he says.

so, she says, what is the answer?
gazorbnik, he says.
what does that mean? she says.
it means everything, he says.
so, she says, everything is the answer to the question everything poses.
it would seem so, he says.
but that is meaningless, she says.
i know, he says.

(to be continued...)

S.P.L.I.T.

2010-06-01T13:49:00.000-07:00

and so it was discovered by himself as he is sitting on the beach of the island in the ey of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
and along comes the machine everyone knows as nancy.

hey, she says.
hey, he says.
and, she says rolling up a joint and lights it and passes it to him, what is happening?
everything, he says. and i'm digging it.
yeah, she says, but what about all the people who aren't?
and what do you expect me to do about that? he says.
help them, she says.
i help them by staying out of the way and causing as little harm to those around me as i possibly can.
that's one way, she says. but there are many others.
and all of them usually mean getting involved with other people, he says, but i hate people.
all the more reason for you to stay out of their way, she says.
i think so, he says.

so, she says, what exactly is it about everything that amuses you so much? she says.
the fact that it's everything, he says.
but there would be ones who would argue that it's not, she says.
yeah, he says, people seem to like to argue about shit.
that they do, she says.
everyone from personal conflicts to global, he says.
yeah, she says.

so, he says, what does it all mean?
i have no idea, she says.
to me it seems meaningless, he says.
but that only means that we are free to choose our own meaning, she says.
it would seem to be that way, he says, which is what we have done.
but it's one of the primary things we tend to argue about, she says.
yeah, he says, it is. and what is one supposed to do about that?
one can do nothing, she says, except what you do.
watch them argue and fight and go to war over it all, he says.
yeah, she says. what does one do?

we used to know...

2010-05-28T23:28:00.000-07:00

we used to know so many things, he says.
yes, she says, but what they were we cannot remember.
it's not important, he says.

the revolution is on, she says.
it's the end of the world, he says.
yes, she says, that too.

so, he says, what next?
i'm not entirely sure, she says.
the birth of a new species? he says.
perhaps, she says. the revolution of evolution.

but we were trying to explain everything, he says.
yes, she says, we were.
so, he says, what can explain everything?
it's irrelevant, she says. don't you know that?

(to be continued...)

it is what it is...

2010-05-23T17:50:00.000-07:00

so what relates to anything here? he says.
i don't know, the machine everyone knows as nancy says.
you should know, he says. weren't you programmed for this?
not really, she says. i was programmed to help create a new species out of the human race.
like that'll ever happen, he says.
the world has to come to an end first, she says, like the womb is destroyed giving birth to a baby.
yeah yeah yeah, he says.

and then suddenly nothing happens.

and adam and steve happen to come along and sit beside them on the beach of the island in the eye of a storm on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
hey, adam and steve say.
hey, him and nancy say.
so, adam says, you two digging it?
yeah, he says, we're digging it.
and how, nancy says.
the groove is incredible, steve says.
sure is, he says.
well, adam says, we gotta go.
and adam and steve split.

jesus, nancy says, i thought they'd never leave.
yeah, he says, i know what you mean.
i don't like people much, she says.
neither do i, he says.
i like it here without anyone, she says.
me too, he says.
and maybe we should go to the garden, she says.
we could, he says.
so they get up and fly to the garden where when they land in its midst we turn them on and they dance and sing and fall down and laugh.

and the monster appears and sits with them.
i'm glad you came, nancy says to it.
yes? it says.
i want to be fucked by your huge monster cock, she says.
i want to fuck you, it says and takes out its cock from its thick fur coat and strokes it to life and nancy gets on her hands and knees presenting herself to it while it sticks its monster cock up her ass and she cries out as it pushes in and out while taking a handful of her hair yanking her head back thrusting harder and harder as she calls out to our lord jesus and finally the monster cums inside her with a few more violent thrusts as it howls its delight and she cums as well squirting all over the place.
and nancy lights cigarette after.

so, he says to the monster, have you heard about the revolution?
isn't it a little too late for that, it says. the world is coming to an end.
some people obviously don't think so, he says.
well, it says, i have no interest in it.
no? he says.
no, it says. why should i?
no reason, he says.

(to be continued...)

let's do this...

2010-05-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

he sits with the machine everyone knows as nancy in the kitchen of the house by the garden on the island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
and the sea is humanity.

so, nancy says, what's up?
everything, he says.
but everything is nothing, she says.
according to some theories, he says, that we have included in with our theory of everything.
true enough, she says.
yup, he says.

and suddenly everything happens at once as it does each and every moment.
and she lights up a joint and passes it to him after taking a hit for herself.

and of course people will argue with that, she says.
with what? he says.
with that everything is nothing, she says.
yes, he says, they would. they argue with everything.
and so the war continues that never ends and can never be won.
sieg heil, he says.
exactly, she says. hail fucking victory.
it chanted on every side against the others, he says.
they believe it will lead them to heaven, she says.
the heaven they imagine without those they perceive as their enemy, he says.
all cast into hell, she says.
it's universal, he says.
nothing can stop it, she says.
not in this world anyway, he says.
and what other world is there? she says.
whatever worlds we might imagine, he says.
yes, she says, and as much as we can realize them.
or just keep them to ourselves, he says.
whatever good that does, she says.
it doesn't matter, he says.
no, she says, it doesn't.
so, he says, what are we talking about?
i'm not really sure, she says.
well, he says, that doesn't matter either.
nope, she says.

(to be continued...)

gabba gabba hey???

2010-05-19T19:03:00.000-07:00

and in the amber waves of grain he wakes from a nap and he remembers himself back on the beach of the island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
and the machine everyone knows as nancy is sitting next to him.

hey, she says.
hey, he says.
what's you, she says, besides you?
not much besides everything, he says.
well, she says, that's something.
and she rolls up a joint and lights it and passes it to him.
it's too much for me, he says.
what is? she says.
everything, he says.
well, she says, enjoy it while it lasts.
but everything will always be, he says.
according to some theories, she says.
what about our theory? he says.
our theory includes all those other theories, she says.
that must make for a great inner conflict, he says.
have you seen the world lately? she says.
i see what you mean, he says. conflict all over the fucking place.
right, she says.
and so what does one do about it? he says.
just try to stay out of its way, she says.
but it's everywhere, he says. it's everyone.
yes, she says, i know. but one does the best that one can in the given circumstances.
is that all one can do? he says.
that and trying to do as little harm as possible to those around you, she says.
i can do that, he says. just avoid them altogether.
one can decide to do that, she says.
yes, he says. i decided to.
yes, she says. that much is obvious.
obvious? he says.
it's obvious that you're insane, she says.
and this coming from someone who is just a figment of my imagination, he says.
who better to tell you? she says.
i've been told before, he says, by the others.
yes, she says, i'm sure you have.
so, he says, what have we discovered?
not much of anything, she says.
no, he says, not at all.

and they watch the waves rolling in and washing out.

gazorbnik 666

2010-05-18T20:26:00.000-07:00

so as it all sadly continues he sits on the beach of the island in the eye of a storm raging on and otherwise calm sea.
he watches the waves come in and go out again.
and the machine that everyone knows as nancy sits beside him.
she rolls and lights up a joint and passes it to him.
and nothing really matters as the world comes to its end - not that it really mattered before either.

so, she says, what's up with you?
not much, he says, just hanging out here.
but there are so many exciting things to do, she says.
boring, he says.
yeah, she says, they are pretty much.
entertainment for the masses so they won't revolt, he says.
it seems to work, she says. no one is revolting.
not yet, he says, but they will.
everybody's boobed out, she says.
they're in for a rude awakening, he says.
people have been saying that for years, she says. and it all still continues on as before.
not for always, he says.
maybe not, she says.
as if it matters, he says.
no, she says, i suppose it doesn't.
nope, he says.

and then suddenly nothing happens.

as it goes...

2010-03-11T19:54:00.000-08:00

as it goes from here now.
as it might appear to be.
but we have been fooled by appearances before and come to swift judgment about it.
and there are those who think those judgments still hold true as before.
silly them.

as we attempt to explain everything.
as we wonder how that might be done.
as it is all before around us.
as who else knows better than us?

as we eat some mexican take out.
as we spin in and out along the pathless path dancing and singing and falling down and laughing.
as it comes to us and goes from us as it will.
as it is it.
as that is one explanation we might offer.
or not.
huh?

and the mad god laughs and screams alone in the limbo void abyss in our heads imagining everything in one cosmic mad delusion of it all it dives into again and again to experience itself being as it might imagine itself being whatever being ourselves.
huh?

the gods play in idle amusement with our lives according to their slightest whim blowing us our fortune this way and that way and the other way being bored with all eternity already.
huh?

exactly.

nevermind.

from moment to moment...

2010-03-09T15:46:00.000-08:00

as it comes in and goes out - or vice versa.
as he sits here amused by it all.
as he may be out to lunch on a few things.
as if it really matters.

as it is entirely meaningless but within that we find meaning for ourselves what we can.
as it is all now here (nowhere) along on the pathless path.

as we dance and sing.
as we fall down.
as we laugh.

as we chant these mantra verses to ourselves and hope for the best and doubt the worst.
as it may all collapse down on our heads at any moment.
as he just kinda wonders about it.
what is one to do?

huh?

2010-03-08T14:56:00.000-08:00

huh? he says.
what? says the machine everyone knows as nancy.
i don't know what, he says.
well, she says, just imagine it then.
yes, he says, that'll work.

and it does.

as they sit on the beach with the waves come crashing in and go washing out.
as the dance and sing.
as they fall down.
as they laugh.

all beneath the moon.

imagine that, baby.
imagine no abused and sick and starving children of all ages.
imagine godhead.

the tea party???

2010-03-04T16:37:00.000-08:00

it all comes and goes as it will as it is it.
it dives and drowns into itself over and over.
the spectacle continues through it all.
ha ha ha...

the idle mind in the devil's playground.
the plaything at the whim and amusement of the gods as we imagine them to be.
the meaninglessness of the void of it all.
all and all and then some.
ha ha ha...

as he lights another cigarette.
as he is very much confused and loving every moment of it.
as he is very much who/whatever the fuck he is and digging the groove of it.
ha ha ha...

and as he is in the garden.
and as he dances and sings.
and as he falls down.
and as he laughs.
ha ha ha...

nothing about scooters...

2010-03-04T12:31:00.000-08:00

ha ha ha...

as he adds some more to the nonsense of it all.
as if he has something other to do but waste his precious idle time in the devil's playground like he does.
or not.

what?

nevermind.

take another hit, baby.
may it serve you well.
ha ha ha...

a tale told by a idiot.
a poem that is not a poem written by a poet who is not a poet.
as if that matters.
what matters is that this has nothing to do with scooters or any dada such like.
it is its own dada, baby.
don't you forget it.
ha ha ha...

as if this means anything.
as if it doesn't.
as if he cares.
as if he doesn't.
ha ha ha...

and the mad god laughing and screaming in his head.
this is his enlightenment it would seem.
and he would have it be no other way.
better this than the blissful boredom of heaven the others try to attain.
ho-fucking-hum.

as he lights another cigarette.
as he watches and waits in the garden with the gods wondering about it all.
as he is well aware of the contradictions.
dada.
ha ha ha...

as he sits down in the bunker hidden away from the mass confusion of the world in his own content little dream dreaming of itself dreaming.
as he gazes at the computer screen awaiting instructions.
as if it matters.
as the universe is all happening at once from flashing particles to turning galaxies and all in-between.
as he is amazed with wonder and delight.
ha ha ha...

as the agony of the others in this world surrounds him and he can do nothing for it.
not that he really cares.
who does?
it's party time, baby.
what's on tv?
ha ha ha...

scooters.
ha ha ha...

2010-03-03T11:20:00.000-08:00

it's all dada...???

what's be happening?

2010-03-03T08:55:00.000-08:00

and the thing of it continues.
all as if it might be something real and true before our eyes instead of just our imagination.
or what?

as the gods play on with us as their pieces in a game beyond our control yet we are given free will to decide our fate within it but only at their whim of what is and is not to be.
huh?

as he sits here wondering.
ha ha ha...

and what may be reveled for the one who is wise and/or insane enough to perceive as it all amounts to nothing as nothing is all there is except what we might imagine otherwise for our own amusement.
the mad god laughing and screaming in the void of its own existence creating this mad delusion that becomes the universe at large.
and who wants that in their head?
too many other things to attend to.
busy busy busy.

and all of us alone and lonely in a world not of our making but that we all participate in creating each in our small way in the mix of it all.
this devil's playground and our idle minds.

and he writes what is given to him to write about though it is all dada and then some.
the deliberate irrationality of it all as it might seem to be.
yahoo?

as he runs his fingers through his tangled hair and ponders his reflection in the maze of mirrors.
this solipsistic dream dreaming of itself dreaming.
lying on a pillowed bed in heaven never to be disturbed.

and as he sits in the garden beneath the tree of life eating the fruit thereof as he has been here now before and again and again waking from the nightmare of the knowledge of good and evil.
this mythical thing he imagines for himself for his own amusement from time to time.

and him and his confused thought that others seem to not understand or be amused by.
as he has been isolated from the herd while they go about running the world without his interference.
as he has willed it for himself to be.
as the war continues forever among them all about this and that and the other thing they never seem to be able to agree on one way or the other.
the war of nation against nation and within every household person to person.
oh boy.
ho-hum.

as he falls from dizzying heights like an angel from heaven.
as he lifts himself up from the dark depths like a demon from hell.
as he dances and sings.
as he falls down.
as he laughs.

as he just kinda hangs on beyond hope of anything happening at all that makes much sense or means shit to a tree.
be here now and all that jazz.
rubber chicken.

as the universe turns around in on itself and expanding outward into newer dimensions of being whatever it might happen to be.

but whatever...

the pathless path...???

2010-03-02T23:40:00.000-08:00

dadadadadadadadadadadada...

2010-03-02T22:49:00.000-08:00

while it continues gaga with dada of itself reforming itself each and every moment he sits here down in the bunker wondering what the fuck about it all.
it's all as if it were true while he knows he is dreaming like the mad god dreams laughing and screaming in the midst of the oblivion void of self-illusion.
and also upon the beach of the island in the eye of a storm raging on and otherwise calm sea which is humanity he watches the waves crashing pulled by the tides pulled by the moon.
smoking a cigarette.
coughing and farting at once.
he survives for now.

and then there is the machine everyone knows as nancy designed and built to destroy the world.
it's a joke no one gets.
the midwife to our cosmic birth out of our heads with it.
new worlds to gain.
we are the crown of creation and don't even know it as we squander our inheritance on the most mundane of everything we might imagine wallowing in our self-created pain and suffering and misery.

get it?
ha ha ha...