More on Being Psychic

This pestilence, a grasshopper, appears, and at that time I was acting as if I would soon be writing. I fell to pieces.  I had a thin and vapory image* in my head of myself doing a demonstration.  I’d like to get on  that YouTube, too (and french-kiss a pretty young girl), and show the laboratory technique, and do not yet know whether it would then be fun to deny or prove what it really was in the flask.

This image was for anyone to get the clear idea of what psychic really means, from the perspective of the practitioner.  As simple as I can draw of an analogy, Anna the anonfag, is to stick out your hand and have an apple fall right into it. I can’t stop there (you can never stop, even your memory is different than a computer’s since only death erases it (Szasz, fourteen books worth)), so, I considered whether the apple missing the hand and falling past it would count.

That idea is such that the normal individual attempting cycle should discover how the language bends our knowledge away from this belief, or into it.  They may encounter actual asymmetry, unlike Assange’s, who misspelled the word.  He did misspell it long ago; it was one of few words in that piece he misspelled, but I am 18 years older and I was working with such a word at that time, assemply, or, “assembly”, but with a twist, an unspecified twist in which words and ideas are colliding and the words got ahead of the ideas.  It was a frog waiting for a chemist to flay the skin off its back and see what’s what, i.e. why you get high.  I never got a definition going for that word.  End paragraph.  Come on, nasty.

Come on, Assan jew fuck, you—ya went antshit.  Ya fuckin’ started on Assyria. As a matter of fact, you spelled asymmetry like you spell your own name.  That’s lame.

Ah, Santana, Abraxis.

Well, I was doing the mental Tourette’s syndrome of seeing things and cogitating whenst I came upon the grasshopper, who you can’t tell me wasn’t shook up from losing his whole arm.  His compound eyes pleaded with me.  I said it’s just  flesh wound.  His feet wouldn’t come loose from my hand. I walked away. Good riddance.

I went further. It goes around a bend.  I’m going to do it now.  It’s a park.  I discarded the whole idea because the damn graundskeeper hopper, I called interference on his ass.  He made me think that stuff with stupid arms in it.  You think strange things.  Umm, thinking?  Well, I use the term advisedly.  I advise you not to change it, that’s how lies happen.

Don’t you think any strange things and then meet the cause for this?  The hair is reputed to stand up on the back of your neck.  That’s a lie.  The first time meth makes the hair stand up or you cough having your alveoli close down you are likely to become addict for life.

A million anecdotes come to mind.

Oh, it is to bleed.  No it isn’t, that one’s “laugh”.  But, how well you could analogize cyclism from looking in a mirror.  It must all be about mirrors.  Look at, Through the Looking Glass.  But, here in Chemland, we don’t get to brush asymmetry off.  Obviously, Assange knows what I am about to say (or he would have said symmetry), so I needn’t say it.

picture right here

* a couple of times now I have stole—downloaded—from Vonnegut without attribution, but come on.

Damn.  I went back to make it prima without Typo One (too many to cite), and I recall another example and in this one it is up to you journalists to fix.  find out where in Hollywood they mold and shape public opiion subliminally.  This happens—God, Steve.  You are carrying coals to Newcastle—never, baby.  You—uh, first part.

First is it is a movie, it has Dennis Hopper.  During the movie you forget his name, so John wayne says, “Look at eemees, hoppin’ around on one laig.”  Then I knew it is Hopper.  John Wayne gives Dennis Hopper that extra confidence, like george W. Bush: Thank you for your confidence, and I hope to express my gratitude in more substantial terms as I serve you as your president.

So, we are kind of the meat here.  We’re the hamburger whose public opinion is to be molded, and, what do we get for that?  Not a bunch of lies, that much is certain.  No, but, help me out.  How, who— never mind.  Does anybody remember never mind?  Yeah, MAKE SOMEBODY HAPPY and MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, together on a tome of license plate, saying in sum of vanity, YU NO Z.

 I quote brackets, and I don’t give a damn.  Comes from a skit about hating Native Americans before you get shot full of arrows.  Dying old and all that definitely posits against.  Give you 8:5.

A minute for an elusive image to find the ground.  This man was in a wheelchair. He had an arm and he had a leg, but there is a tableaux happening, and even cracking a smile for the jig to be up won’t cut it, near as I can figure.  I walked over to my son on the playground spinner to take his hat, and he threw it in my face. I used both hands and it didn’t touch the ground, and I didn’t jam my pinky ftw.


Ah, that’s what I was going to say.  909.  Who the hell?

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