Theme for Two Jupiters

5 for the Omniverse

1. Folk Hero. Gallant Outsider.



2. Thus evoking overtones of love without destroying its life giving vulgarity



3. There's a man goin' round taking names



4. Possibly Apocryphal folk heroes (I did not know I wanted to hear those voices)

* King Arthur - Legendary British warlord.
* Cúchulainn - Ireland, folk legend and the pre-eminent hero of Ulaid in the Ulster Cycle
* Fionn mac Cumhaill - Ireland, warrior, leader of the Fianna. Primary figure in the Oisin cycle.
* Till Eulenspiegel or Tijl Uilenspiegel - Germany and the Low Countries, trickster
* Fong Sai-Yuk - China, martial arts folk hero
* Hung Hei-Gun - China, martial arts folk hero
* Nai Khanom Tom - Thailand, master of Muay Thai
* John Henry - United States, mighty steel-driving African-American
* Robin Hood - England, outlaw usually associated with the motto "Steal from the rich, give to the poor"
* Rummu Jüri - Estonia, outlaw who stole from the rich to give to the poor
* Hua Mulan - China, heroine who disguised herself as a man in order to join an army
* Molly Pitcher - United States, heroine of the American Revolutionary War
* William Tell - Switzerland, began the rebellion against the Austrians
* Juan Bautista Cabral - Argentina, soldier who supposedly saved José de San Martín's life during the Battle of San Lorenzo against the Royalists in 1813.

5. Never no lament

Catalyst or, Our Fathers After the Grammys

She holds you at bay with a charming tautology... A gate bothways not sure if it's the closing or the opening that's delayed. Either way, this is the sound of the gate either way

And sacred harp music. And are they confusing you, is the truth confusing?

Some reporters are going to ask you some fluffy questions, just answer them

They sense a pretty game. Vernacular backed by rumors like I heard a refugee population is hungry for language and aware that anything can happen

So it's true, then, that words will do what they have to if you let them, not always in the service of truth, as not all needs are, some are just beautiful, so he went on very far looking to be nearer. Speeches were:


"It's really very, very real

to be here tonight in relation to life and death, and I'm sure they both love each other"


Acceptance was:

"Isn't it amazing that sound causes the idea to sound like what it is, more than the idea itself?"

My idea was the swell of compliments doubling back on themselves, becoming insults,spastic and dopey, the way the trends have harassed us changeless and what we due back and when and now when and how to assume the reason you asked me and the reason I didn't answer are the same (reason)

What is the achievement in life that you are proudest of?

"I'm gonna have to go way back to answer that one. Way way back. In fact, I'm gonna have to go back to the moment when you asked me that question." The interview stopped

Portrait of a Monologue in Audio Color

When I was comin' up playin' in the band, I wasn't reading music. I was bullshittin, but I was in the band

And my father got me an alto out of a pawn shop, and I just picked the mother fucker up, and just started playin' it. And that's the way that went . So he was a musician, he played all the instruments, and all this shit. And my sister, see, she was playing, and I'd get close to her, and pick up on the parts, you know. Playing marches and all that shit

And then finally my father said, one day, Candice play your part


I knew god damn well that was my ass, (he knew I wasn't reading) Play your part, Candice


Now Lester play your part. I couldnt read a mother fuckin note. Not a god damn note. He said, Get up! (you know he don't curse like I do) Get up and get your fuckin' ass, and work you some scales. Get out.

Now you know my heart was broke. I went and cried, gave a bottle of tear drops. And shit I said, well I'll come back and get these mother fuckers if that's the way they want it.

So I went away and learned how to read the music, still by myself

I came back in the band, played this music and shit. Cause all that time I was copying on the records, also with the music, so I could fuck these mother fuckers completely up

So I went in there and they threw the goddam marches out and I read the music and shit, and everything was great. But what was in my heart.. Why all the motherfuckers laughed when they put me out, when I couldn't read, they would come up and say, would you show me how to.. play like that

I'm not gonna show you shit, you rusty mother fucker. So that's the way that went down.


(Imma take my time Imma just try a little, if it don't come out right, fuck it)

Isometric Projections

I thought he was doing three things. Five things he was doing escaped my notice.

Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall. Feel (nothing more than feelings, trying to forget my...

There are two ways to improve your chess game. The other one is to accept the consequences. A brain, an upbringing, soul mating, somatics to mitigate the thinking or trace it to its vivid origins, Jasper Johns, John Agee, Jean Toomer, suspicion--John Cage, John Akomfrah, Angela Davis, him, no sadness, just devastation, Mechanician, Fender Rhodes Scholar, Westerner, holler!

War and grace, in that we all know there will ever be peace, never, nigga, not even in the heave, but always generous enough to let itself be imagined. Cabin in the woods, cabin in the sky. Thief who sold his sad days as folkways records

The Ginko tree, that's ours. The thaw it wears is no worries

The blood it moves, believes it

Sometimes I hear it, then I write it, other times I write it, then hear it.

That's nothing compared to doing both at the same time, which amounts real improvisation and the consequences, not understanding one without the other, not othering ever, utterly, which make us very childlike and integrated. Not truly shy, Just sure. Structures, not subjects. I like it when you ask me questions. And then answer them for me. Like you want to save me from anonymity with prejudice. What are you used to? You're used to this. The only cure for your inexperience is a quiet walk across an unbuilt bridge.

Do you go out? She admitted she didn't. Not out there. They laughed. They grew silent. In between, something believable was not said aloud

Tones for Malcolm

Stolen Moments

One.

This disembodiment: Capitalism

This hip reprimand: Pretend it doesn't exist, admit it to a mushroom

This interruption: Whose myth are you

This panic: Pick me, pick me. Candlelit camera phone dinners and the inertia of ownership. Is that beautiful? Not usually. Let's not, usually

This capital: happy body

This pretend: Primal hipness

This Myth: Whose rupture you is, what is the republic in the quick of what happens, pyramid amid a crooked riddle and everybody wishes

Everyone.