politics and tweeter and war and architecture and mass media and pop-culture and life and a whole lot of swirling mush of mess, and you get a cloud to decipher string theory and walk through walls, oh my…

.

.

The world has grown old

And tired, and soon will fold.

.

Where once stood men who were bold

Now whisper catacombs filled with corpses and mold.

.

We used to be warm with dreams of fires where stories were told

But now shiver in ashes and gray skies and nothing but cold.

.

To what daemon have we our precious souls so carelessly sold

When once we were heroes made so valiantly of gold?

.

Yet, how tender as all the school kids across town cheered, behold!

When the snow monster over our jeweled city rolled.

.

-IAT

Don’t you think the world has grown stale?

Don’t you think the story of man has reached an impasse?

We are cast adrift at the edge of a fruitless existential nightmare in an unending struggle and toil, and all the while asked to keep faith…what a macabre silly little joke of a diabolic interlude.

Hopeless!

“Come on in.” he had said with a complacent smile. “You and I are different, we are not like them… come sit down.” – Excuse me? I had thought to myself, how are we different and from whom? Please cut the crap, I had mumbled…

“You are a leader, I know you will go far…”

So there it was again, the dreaded confidence in my purported leadership skills! For once I wanted to follow, I had so wanted to tell him, yet I smiled in agreement — don’t give me the damn portfolio, just don’t, I had wanted to say…

…And he asked me if I had read The Fountainhead — that too! I’m an architect so I must have read The Fountainhead — I hadn’t, but I mumbled incoherently, trying to pass on something between a yes and a no… How could I have not read the damn book? Right?

Finally, beaming with the inevitable certainty only he possessed at that moment, he offered me a job, raised me to a pedestal, gave me my own damn territory, and then told me something that turned me right back around.

“…So I worked on Capitol Hill as an economist for almost ten years,” he said. “But I’m here aren’t I? This job has changed my life! Anyhow, did you know that Ayn Rand was Alan Greenspan’s teacher?”

“I didn’t know that.” I was amazed at the connection.

“Oh hell yeah, she inspired him… She was the reason he became an economist. He was just a chum before that, you know…” He continued with more detail…

But I had stopped listening… I had already made up my mind.

So here I am, having rejected yet another lucrative contract in NYC, instead holding a tattered library copy of The Fountainhead, and cutting past Ayn Rand’s 50’s dialect to Howard Roark’s heart… bristling! The American innocence, when the going was good, when architecture was indeed a noble art! — Was it ever? Oh how deluded and debutant of me to even venture there!

Yet…maybe, just maybe we can trace the fall, the going astray, and the divergent path when it all turned stale and old… When the world turned gray…

“Yet,” I thunder with plea as I pound my fists on the lectern, with art deco rays radiating behind my head, “should we not ignite the dark with our souls?”

[Low-angle shot lit with upturned floodlights below the lectern, casting large flickering shadows behind me]

“Don’t you think there’s still a chance with every life to make it right? Don’t you? I’m counting on you!”

-IAT

…um, arch porn… alas!  LMAO!!

Harpooning a Beluga

How my mid wanders…

December 16^th 2009
NEO’s LOG

I’m busy developing a modern version of Diogenes wandering though the ruins of today…

So as I type on my broken laptop, Betsy, my neighbor, drops in for a hello. She’s a fellow artist, restrained and cute, wondering if… We chat about the bourgeois reminisce…but we both see the veneer, refreshingly self-aware in our own reconcile.

A bit later Socrates comes by for a hello. We chat about animal sentience and intra-species dialogue.

We talk about mycelium organisms spanning the subsoil of large forests, huge gigantic creatures existing on a completely different algorithm, and we discuss how forests are intelligent and unified organisms…

Then, he points me to the Norway “Spiral” right before Obama’s peace award…

So I dig in…

A quick Google and I discover a piece of dis-half-info attributing the spiral to a Bulava launch having gone wry…

But I remember Dimitri talking about HAARP, so I plug that tidbit in…

And of course I remember that Dr. Lin, my highly efficient NOAA roommate, had mentioned the other day something about stratospheric detonations and atmospheric engineering taking place on multiple levels ever since the late ‘50’s – “most are classified,” he had said sheepishly! Oh how fun!

Hmmm, so then I calculate in Copenhagen and its spokesman, Al, and the debacle that it has now become, especially with the police batons beating up unarmed protesters? And the hired goons labeled with the NWO triangle on their uniforms? Hmmm…

So then I discover that there’s a HAARP outpost right there in Tromsø, Norway… right along the coast of White Sea…

Ok, so then at this point my brain clicks and clacks all over the place – I’m scampering for that tinfoil hat for real! – I factor in the “successful” launch of the Sajjil-2! um, as a provocative gesture…

Oh boy, could it be that the Bulava was also a “provocative” gesture by the Russkies right before POTUS received his award for peace, er, prior to declaring war and increased troop levels?

And maybe HAARP sent that bad puppy spiraling right out of commission?

What would Diogenes tell Alexander, I wonder… A sign in the sky? Oh how delightful is this chess game! Indeed…

-Iliad Alexander Terra

The contrived
God’s raw war dogs
Have been unleashed to
Deconstruct the constructed
Syntax

So that they may
Wield dominion over the minions’
Yielded souls,

Stolen eternally
To the glory
And consummation
Of the pervertors of sight.

Light has been usurped
By shadow’s might.

Master the dialectic
Of duality;
Evolve!

Evolve,
Reclaim your radiant soul;
There is no other way,
But to defeat light…

…With Light.

Inverted Pyramid at the Louvre

The Inverted Pyramid in the subterranean atrium of the Louvre is prophetic of the Illuminati’s ambition for a New World Order.

The perversion stands ominously and euphemistically on the base labor of lesser matter, exponentially expansive toward a brave new world.

Although on the surface the design may resound of largess, you must consider that the supporting pyramid beneath it is of dark and base matter.  The duality is innocuous were it not so deceptively inculcated through entrenched paradigms.

While this balance may correlate with now outmoded and refuted law’s of psychophysics, it nonetheless signifies a sinister perversion through overt symbolism.

Mass slave labor supports the luminous elite' evolution through the next axis ...on the human pyramid of Abu Ghraib prisoners

This notion becomes further manifest when one considers the latent meaning in the earlier renditions of the symbol, currently in circulation through the dollar currency.

And the intent of the symbol is further clarified when one considers the earliest manifestations of the symbol and the method of its realization through slave labor during Pharaonic Egypt.

Pyramid Slave Labor

…Time to Evolve!

Peace Out,
-Iliad Alexander Terra