#alle fumé en francais

[labcoatsaresexy]

ooh la la that government-provided quebecoise weed be hitting hard

[hommagebasel]

ENGLISH/DEUTSCH/FRANCAIS

Dear friends and guests!

Due to various complaints from our neighbor (background music, concert frequency, indoor ambient emissions, outdoor ambient emissions, cigarette smoke, etc) we have decided to end our time as the management of the “Alpenblick”. We (Hommage) will continue to put on shows and host events, concerts, pop-ups and more after our Summer break at new and exciting locations! Follow us for the latest news on social media or on the web (#hommagebasel). We love you all and can’t thank you enough for your continued support over the years!

Stay 70’s…Professor Mamoux and Agent Stone!

Liebe Freunde und Gäste!

Aufgrund diverser Beschwerden unserer Nachbarin (Hintergrundmusik, Konzert Frequenz, Innenraumemissionen, Aussen Emissionen, Zigarettenrauch, etc.) haben wir uns entschieden, unsere Zeit als Leitung des „Alpenblick“ zu beenden. Wir (Hommage) werden auch nach unserer Sommerpause weiterhin Shows, Events, Konzerte sowie Pop-ups und mehr an neuen und aufregenden Orten veranstalten! Folgt uns in den sozialen Medien oder im Internet um auf dem Laufenden zu bleiben (#hommagebasel). Wir lieben Euch und können Euch nicht genug für Eure anhaltende Unterstützung über die Jahre hinweg danken!

Stay 70’s ... Professor Mamoux und Agent Stone!

Chers amis et clients!

En raison de diverses plaintes de notre voisine (musique de fond, fréquence des concerts, émissions ambiantes intérieures, émissions ambiantes extérieures, fumée de cigarette, etc.), nous avons décidé de mettre fin à notre mandat de gestion du bar “Alpenblick". Nous (Hommage) continuerons à organiser des spectacles, des événements, des concerts, des bars éphémères et plus après notre trêve estivale dans de nouveaux lieux passionnants! Suivez-nous pour les dernières nouvelles sur les réseaux sociaux ou sur le web (#hommagebasel). Nous vous aimons tous et nous vous remercierons pour votre soutien continu au fil des années!

Stay 70's… Professeur Mamoux et Agent Stone!

[camqui-rit-camqui-pleure]

la musique caresse mes oreilles comme les vaguelettes qui s'écrasent, se meurent, se prélassent

sur mes pieds

i could die for love

only for love

je sens la rythmique de mon corps quand il bouge sur un tempo

et ça me rend heureuse

j'ai pris 10 ans en 2

et ça fait 10 ans que j'en ai 2

mais bon les nombres c'est juste pour se comprendre c'est pas vraiment tangible

les montres sont au temps ce que les mots sont au coeur

c'est absurde mais utile pour se comprendre

enfait les humains c'est un peu de l'art abstrait chacun comprend ce qu'il veut en fonction de ce qu'il voit, sa perception étant propre à son monde de couleurs

le crissement de la neige sous mes pas

je vais revenir sur les mots et le coeur

si on avait des pouvoirs magiques on sortirait des formes de nos doigts ce serait comme de la fumée de couleur qui prend forme en fonction de ce que l'on veut exprimer ce serait si beau

après c'est jolie de se dire qu'il faudra toujours se "battre" pour comprendre les autres, ce sera toujours un effort d'essayer de comprendre ces algorithmes si complexes et diverses

heureusement que je me suis remise à lire je n'ai plus de vocabulaire ni en francais ni en anglais ugh

bref

l'experience humaine c'est vraiment FONCDE pourquoi personne préviens quand on est enfant je comprends pas

deja nous dire ok les potes la vous pensez que its all fun and games mais enfait inconsciemment tout ce que vous vivez maintenant c'est vos futurs trauma lol

et putain dire aux ados que la vie c'est pas si dramatique et que tout n'est pas un enjeux de vie ou de mort même si parfois je me sens encore tellement ado mais c'est éprouvant et c'est un peu du surplace donc bon flemme

et quand j'ose pas faire des trucs de ma vie, par peur de me juger, du jugement des autres, d'être nullissime pas à la hauteur , flemme de concrétiser l'immonde monstre de failure que je fais vivre dans ma tête BREF outre tout ça je me dis mais bordel mais quel EGO

on s'est pris pour qui enfait fin à part moi même tout le monde s'en TAPE et si on avait pas d'égo bah la vie serait plus fun deja et on arrêterait de se prendre la tête pour tout et n'importe quoi, on ferait des trucs et on aurait même pas besoin de qualifier les experience de bien ou mal de productive ou pas juste on serait en vie

Je pense que c'est vraiment un truc de société que de quantifier qualifier tout ce qu'on fait un lion se demande pas a quel point c'est swag de marcher plus ou moins vite avec tel ou tel lionne dans quelle partie de la savane et à quel h et pourquoi juste il le fait et il s'en tape

[leo-dale19]

Tap-dancing flame man (short story)

Chapter 1

He can be seen on the shores every night as the sun sinks into the ocean on the nearby horizon. He bristles with flaming porcupine spikes of love emanating from his body, and maybe someone out there knows who he is. I have dreamed of him time and time again, yet his physical appearance is of no surprise - he is there and it is the Now. He puts on a pedoskitis (that’s a foot dance in Universal Love) in rhythm to the stars, who he seems to hold paralysed in fear in the exact same places on the carpet-black night sky, sparkling nails, hammered into a blank carpet by the song of the red dolphins. To be stuck in time is a horrible fate to suffer, but you may still be telling unknown entities you have never known very vital things.  

Sound waves sometimes travel across the island’s landscapes, they climb mountains with agile ease that would put most mountain-trekkers to shame and reach their destination in record time, but noone’s thought of a corresponding reward for their sonic boom efforts. Davy once looked at me weirdly when I asked him if he was thinking of breaking the speed of sound, and Joey’s lethargic greeting is another memory from galaxies ago that still remains fresh in the memory. If you listen closely, you can hear the animals whisper, and the sun’s light at all times of the day, although especially towards the evening as it sets, reflects it straight into my heart. I can feel a burning sensation if I pay attention to it, otherwise it is merely a minor sensory irritation on my walks along the coast. I can hear him tip-toeing on the spot at high speed as he resurrects the past in the burning oxygen around him with his unusual artistry. I can feel and see the molecules of 2017 combust into cluster bombs of 2011. 

I thought of inviting him to the cinema the other day, there is a film-room nearby which we can teleport to if we just focus on our right hand. It’s as easy as that. But the easiest things in this life are the hardest things to realise, and God would never have it any other way. There is nothing we truly want from this life, you can only kid yourself for so long. I’m sure he would understand, but the emotional space in interaction is more important than the intellectual content - I know he would agree. Some people just take on synesthesic sacredness instantaneously,  they’re naturals. The room is spacious and in the corner there is always one of two brothers reading a book I keep meaning to look at, although I know how funny it is already - I read it over his shoulder with eagle-eye vision and have a good memory for specific extracts. I lived an entire life blind until a miracle was done to me in a torture camp and I could see the colour green greener than ever before. The people who conducted the operation told me not to swear, but words have a physical life of their own and just knowing that they do what they do is the best way to express your deepest thoughts. But in the end, everything’s simple and all complications are merely a distortion of the essential. I often wondered whether one could take the simple and convert it back to its initial complex form, but I laughed, thought about why I find that funny when other times I would not and let the thought be syphoned away into one of the few memory holes left in my head. There aren’t many, and the light from the Spinoza soldier on the horizon keeps shining through them. 

I decided I would pay him a visit soon. The red sharks could be sensed in the distance dragging down Eliot’s human voices, but Alfred Prufrock never said they would shriek so loud. Heartbeats and a D piano octave. Spinal Tap said D major was their favourite key to write songs in, but they are from a pre-period of awakening, merely a prelude. Dylan Thomas’s chains still rattle on the waves, but they merely splash transiently ephemeral bubbles like he intended. 

Ancient civilizations ( They seem to always come from islands, is there no depth on the intense land?). They sleep with you at night and respond to your phone calls. The ones in your dreams, of course. The sunrise allows you to see how the bay’s whistling slides on aquamarine tails, upwards and spiralling down.  

Chapitre 2

J’ai la soudaine envie d’écrire ce deuxième chapitre en Francais. Le mode de communication intérieur ne change rien au mélodies des dauphins au loin de la fenêtre, mais c’est le seul phénomène constant sur cette île momentanément monotone et mystérieuse. Je recommence à ressentir ces brûlures cardiaques, elle m’enrhument assez souvent. Le chaud a tendance à donner froid, tel est le destin des frileux d’esprit. 

Je me souviens littéralement de tout les moments et aspects de ma vie antérieure, mais sans aucun désir d’y retourner. Никакого у меня нет желания порвать с этим миром! comme je me suis dit à voix haute en descendant les escaliers de la gare Cornavin sur cette nuit horrible, où la fumée envahissait mes oreilles de tous les côtés et d’anciens anges me paraissaient démons, tellement ils étaient devenus crudes et terrestres. Mais cette exclamation en russe contradit entièrement ce que j’essaie de dire, mais en même temps pas entièrement - ce passé vit avec moi éternellement, mais l’ayant sacrifié au Dieu de la Sérotonine il occupe maintenant un espace beaucoup plus adapté a ses proportions et étendues. Je ne suis pas dans l’état le plus lucide non plus, mais cela fait tout partie de l’image générale. Les planches du Canada résonnent dans les parages avec leur spectrum tout de suite reconnaissable. 

Je n’ai jamais aimé l’admettre, mais il y a eu certaines périodes ou j’éprouvais un sincère mépris pour mes amis qui se droguaient avec leur susbtances. C’était, il ne vaut pas la peine de le cacher, une sorte d’élitisme spirituel entièrement éhonté, mais surement cela venait plutôt du fait que ces nuages toxiques semblaient me persécuter à tous les coins, plutôt que d’avoir quoi que ce soit à voir avec les personnes elle-mêmes. Mais le mauvais temps a tendance à influencer le monde intérieur, vous savez.  

Il y’a des recoins de la conscience humaine qui abondent de salons rempls de fauteuils rouges qui fondent vers l’essence des choses comme de la guimauve éthérée, un bac à sable de l’enface au sucre d’orge. Un des plus grand dilemmes à perturber mon esprit concernait le fait que si tout désarroi et mécontentement origine dans nos propres limitations personelles, à quoi donc servent les autres gens? Ce paradoxe louphoquement solipsiste m’a autant rassuré qu’inquiété. Mais peut-être qu’a la fin, les simplets ont raison - un mélange de tout est nécessaire. You gotta have a little bit of everything, как любил поговаривать мой лучший друг всех времен, самодовольный русофоб Simon. Я его люблю и вся боль, причиненная мне им только сделала меня сильнее. 

Ma fascination avec tout ce qui se trouve à l’est de l’Allemagne me mystife jusqu’à aujourd’hui. Mais je trouve que ce chapitre est déjà allé trop loin (serais-je conscient de ma présence comme écrivain d’un monde imaginé?) et j’ai intention tout simplement de sortir, voir les meilleurs ami non de l’homme, mais de John C. Lilly dans la baie du seigneur. Le Dieu de la Sérotonine me surveille de la haut, mais il sait qu’il n’est pas le début, il est tout simplement une réincarnation de ma vérité. Une accidentelle métamorphose qui a pris place sous circonstances incroyables. Même dans les camps de concentrations et chambres à gaz, l’on peut crier de joie de la découverte du tout-puissant. 

Notre ami flamboyant tape toujours aussi ardemment des fieds. Le soleil se lève mais ce dernier voit en le soldat de la Spinoza son créateur, et non l’inverse. On a toujours besoin d’un plus éthéré que soi. 

Chapter 3 

What year is it? 

2017 feels more 2007 2008 2009 2010 and 2011 than it does like any of its neighbour years that preceded it. The first two chapters of this were shameless stream of consciousness, the strawberry flavoured guitar walls of noise are the priority now. Blonde Redhead’s with their wavy mix of seasons remind me of a girl whose hair I’d like to smell. However, my thoughts feel far more structured than usual and so the haziness of the first part of this story may or may not be repeated. Always the Now, isn’t it? I will die in the coming days. It is the thought with which I start this day, announced by the monolith sun rising on the horizon.

Or maybe I should tell you the truth.

The truth is that I am dead already. This is where I went after that day I ended my consciousness.  Chapter 4

Tanya Kravchenko. A chocolate-coated exotic slav name resounding across the nostalgic hallways of the Donbass Arena in Donetsk, which I have never seen. Past autumns and the wonders of growing up and discovering the world. The cold wind in this parking lot brings all that back, topping it up with a dull grey sky for full beauty.

You must excuse me if any inaccuracy in my story suddenly occurs. I have yet again gotten soap bubbles up my nose. It is a memory from the Serotonin God that finds its way into this purgatory eden and can disrupt the Universal Love consciousness at undesirable moments. However, no damage is permanent here. There is too much love in the air for that to happen. The oxygen on this island is really just molecules of pure love, you breathe, inhale and exhale and it flows right through you, like rain.  

The Serotonin God, if you’re wondering, is what eventually led me to putting an end to my mind. What led me to the event I am describing. 

I had so many reasons to have an incredible life. I was blessed with godly consciousness from day one, quite literally. It came bursting through when I was 14-15 and I realised I could already die happily. Which I do still think is what happened.

It was nearing 1400 hours, the time at which I had scheduled my final appointment with anybody on this earth - my old bus driver from my schooldays, who once told me it was a shame they didn’t see me around anymore (after I went off the grid for the first time).

And yet I did not die, and the Serotonin God still lives.

He just never stops, does he? Look at those feet go. That man in the suit with my name is in the distance, he lives in that French town I brought here from Earth with my love. In the summer you can sometimes see massive fires come from there, but everyone is so unbelievably happy in the dome of consciousness, sailing their boats and riding their racers. Des vieillards en bérets qui jouent à la pétanque, qu’ya t’il de plus Francais? Разве что эйфеловая башня с бутылью роскошненького вина, но увы, придирчивым здесь места нет. Перед всей мощью всеобъемлющей любви, все одинакво бессильны. And yet how he sways! What a sexy groove. Qu’elle divague, cette vague. Evitons-donc d’être trop vague.

The Riverside Stadium, that stayed on Earth. Would love to go see Middlesbrough play.

Chapter 5

Sometimes when I look out onto the beach, I feel I can hear him calling out “Don’t worry, Leo! It was all real! It’s all real! The Serotonin God lives!” as he tap dances away in flames. And he looks so happy in his world, as if dancing in his хоровод to the sounds of Kid A. And we were all just so blissfully happy, hand in hand on the grass… That is who I once was. And somehow, all these years later, I have lost it all and am on the verge of death. I write this all now for I am still in a relatively lucid state. “It was all real! Believe! Universal love awaits after death! Have no fear!” How blissfully peaceful and present he seems. There goes my clarity of mind again. I was in a beautiful world in the supermarket today. The Serotonin God is proof that one can always radically change one's consciousness, expand it to previously unknown extents. How bizarrely I remember that day in autumn 2015, that was the near perfect serotonin god, listening to that electronic artist from Nyon and feeling like I had transcended all suffering, and yet felt insecure about this unknown substance. How strange.

 What is interesting too is the story of the Tap Dancing Flame Man. Here is what I have gathered of it based on his occasional singing on the shoreline. 

 Chapter 6 "Will all those whose mothers are alive step forward JOHNSON WHERE THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING" - it was with this punchline that John Hannon set the cantine table in raptures, an all too popular military joke told far too often in these parts.

The tale of the Schizoid Man

There is a popular song around here; although to call it popular, perhaps, would be a mistake. Only 4 lines of it are known. But known they are by everyone. It goes:

Death seed, blind man’s greed

Poets starving, children bleed

Nothing he’s got he really needs

21st Century Schizoid Man 

For a long time, it was thought the 2nd line said “all it’s solving, children bleed”, and some still sing it that way, instinctively. 

The Schizoid Man, according to local legend, is a being made of pink fire-red ecstasy, however only of the masochistic kind. His form of ecstasy is inherently superficial, yet the intensity of it convinces him of its depth; often, the most tortured are the most naive. How unredeeming and unfair, isn’t it? 

Chapter 7

They’re all still there with you, Leo. You haven’t lost any of them. Besides, you will see it all again after death, exactly as it all happened. The Crown Plaza Hotel remains holy. 

This is what the spirits tell me as I look out onto the island.  Suddenly, I am visited. 

“Leo!”

I turn around, it is me. Another me. Immediately, I can tell it is the Me I wanted to be. The parallel universe I wish I had experienced. 

“Stay alive. You will live my life after you die anyway. You must make the most of what you have. The present moment is still king. If you focus on the right hand, you will get better. Eternal ecstasy is everywhere. Wolfgang Voigt loves you. Ulrich Schnauss too. That evening in Berlin will never be forgotten. The pink aquamarine tunnels of dolphin ecstasy, Ulrich knows of them too.”

I am flabbergasted. 

“Take me to your world!” I beg him

“Sure. And you will experience it as me.”

And thus, he leads me to an EVA pod straight out of 2001 A Space Odyssey

Chapter 8 

Los Angeles, USA 

It’s so sunny here, goodness. Today, I have several important musical dates. I am meeting Flea. Incredible. All these years after the RHCP adventures of 9th grade, I am finally meeting the deities responsible. One Hot Minute. So many questions. Need to ask him about that solo on Nobody Weird Like Me too.