#thenewinart

[joshbloecker]

Given to Feel/Eyes Shut: Starlight

Our diligence in removing sentiment from intellect has yielded unexpected fallout. Demand increases and dreams decay, so completely subsumed and caught unawares, believing our reveries immune to their grasp. A tale as provocative and languid as a mountainous ridgeline, were you to have seen it. (I say this only to assure you I was there.) Development supplies procrastination or a thing quite misunderstood.

Clasp air to know touch.

Shine, frame, and clear the profundities of being alone. In a sense it’s what we bought, in a sense it’s what we were promised, opportunity to mistake constriction for the guidance of an ever watchful, caring parent. To be economical, call it legislation; committee; council, or the office. Wrists bound with fishing line. (So the camera won’t pick it up.) Properly flooded with light and seen with a heavy head.

Cover ears to know sound.

Deranging aesthetics to engage thought only after emotional triggers are pulled. Better said, arranging you, your every aspect, into a forced-upon countenance. Easy explanations and interpretations of common ground, from these we’ve forged our characters. A prolonged acrobatic performance demands tissues shocked by cold. (How much is frozen.) Solid discernment, I am married and we have not met physically.

Freeze nostrils to know scent.

Believing in structures built from disparate statues, expecting a seat at each other’s table, both lost in the same pantheon. Ornate artwork was displayed on these walls for so long that by some faculty our lessors consider miraculous the disintegrated images are now engraved in each pale square. Use these as affixed muse to stain glass. (Lost to supposition and found.) As to primary cause, our play eventually wasted time, if only to call this growth.

Numb tongues to know taste.

Forgive my late arrival. I was watching leaves in autumn, guessing which would fall next. Letting winter use my tears, be them of joy or sorrow, to amass my eyelashes. Tasting verdant spring passages, unexpectedly as I could falling into their embrace, and not continuing until the grounds permitted my next step. (Nothing scars like transition.) Drying out until cracked at the edges, baked until summer cooked off a part of my being.

Invoke the fifth.

(Answers all around you do not entrap.) Hard-pressed to know your heart using only your head, a lightless glow shines through everything and you first see sunset, second the dawn.

Starlight: Eyes Shut

[joshbloecker]

Substance and Poetry

Been sending new work to your family, it solves physics to the point of achieving consilience (the unity of knowledge), as applied to one topic and process. It is impossible to escape accumulating formulated patterns, drowning conveyances of import- and I am in conflict with procuring an income apart from what is owed:

A latent acknowledgement splinters kindling off a log at warm dusk, building into a puff of wood dust climbing air to take moisture from the worker’s mouth.

-It is of no material, something at the core freezes while the skin enflames and for this, galaxies of flesh gone aged and pale, in its fact:

For lack of a currency… forever subsumed.

A note to the future (continued):

Processes began ticking thoughts apart, reassigning them to holographic internal frames only the subconscious knows, and pairing smiles or scowls to shades emanated from their screens, over time it is proven:

Emotive structures are often only as solid as the weaves in that type of paper.

[joshbloecker]

ACTS OF THE DARK GODS

Frequencies allocated to multitudes in physical and temporal dimensions hosting tempests over unseen but sensed unnavigable oceans - unbound lines run through every gap concealed in folds of collapsing waves sputtering drops of thoughts and phantoms haunting internal entrances and trap doors, advancing from depths of shadow in your room to the black beneath your eyelids -thresholds rigged to be secretly crossed until inevitably, you as life become entangled.

(Then, what they’ll serve.)

Heroin liquefies psyche and psyche is epiphenomenon of the physical; consciousness concentrated to sentience bound to the filaments of neurons and axons throughout all somatic cells of the nervous system, coupled with less concentrated sentience bound to functions of all biological process. All cells metabolizing, no one is anything more. Heroin directs the physical to become liquid and the addict never sees it, but over time they’ll become convinced.

(Then, what they’ll do to for it on their knees.)

Eyes tracking appropriate to attention paid, sure, and that is consummate programmed function, perpetual; half of skull cavity houses resonant frequencies distinct to simulacrum of interior dimensions. Organic processing with all the bells unheard because phones have been dinging so long now no one counts it as sound, and the public couples, settling into groups of limited consensus. Set frequencies to distinction. It’s measured in their wallets. Blank out their eyes with light projected via resonant conveyance to overtake pupil function through optic nerves, tell them to close their eyes and tell them it’s their Creator.

(Then, what they’ll be made to pray for.)

Cocaine throttles to direct all cognitive function to instantaneous reason, which becomes the reeling, cool sizzling neurological component of conviction -then provide the structuring. Bound naked, noose around throat, with the rest of the rope used to hog-tie them, for example. Introduce them to the programming methods and their long term effects:

Memories of torture electrifying the onion-skin bible paper as the preacher’s groin stiffens each time he turns the page. Get him used to using the pulpit to hide it and offer him positions of respect among societal authorities, distinct to set frequencies, with all his silent roar cracking into porcelain-like solids, complete with jagged edges, piling on the floor at the foot of every reflective surface or mirror.

(Then, what their vanity justifies.)

[joshbloecker]

Suffocated By Lack of Wood (Our United State)

Fifty rigid, enclosed tubules in each root carrying nutrients from the soil deliver color to the leaves.

Forests upon forests spanning the distances between oceans collapse once their deadfall (built over years without lightning) cuts atmospheric nitrogen off to the ground.

Parties in untold numbers hoist prospective fire marshals into office (none of them touch ground either).

[joshbloecker]

A Global Market -User Guide

1.  Marching orders at half step with no rhythm signaled, except by shouts (or bullhorns).

2.  Someone in rooms for the suits decides continual preparations are just cause for war. With their suits they create just cause for lined pockets, designer suits, and gatherings in the names of the fallen organized for those who gave the orders. (For a suit’s admiration, the tear duct’s empty swallow.)

3.  If you feel, you are legislated to do so without compass. If you think, you are legislated to do so, but only on behalf of who owns the most.

4.  Defend this calculated definition of democracy, or quick-snap the response -drooled to vocal proportions; signal your defeat: “But this is a representative republic.” END OF USER GUIDE

5.  If you wonder, “Whose interests are being represented?” start over from step two.

[joshbloecker]

To Be Clear (Notes on the Conflict)

               Attention consumed in gathering spit, eyes roll in place, irises shift, and black bodies contract event horizons lined by corporeal demons shifting into black mist along walls of two singularities’ wormholes, -its undulating surfaces coated in electric blue light, projected in sheen waves waxing and waning an electromagnetic tide over teeth and claws and consummate intent to devour flesh. It is all being torn, -but broken into its resonant fixtures and redirected long enough to no end, so the foam built in the endless churn comes to direct as its own intelligence.

               We believe in hearts before hands without shades; no purples -no blues, and never a sick parade.

[joshbloecker]

MEASURED BY ITS IMPACT: KNIGHTING THE DUNCES & PRAISING THE COWARDS, A GLOBAL VILLAGE

(From introduction to “MATERIALS SUBMITTED TO THE GRAND JURY” section of the Common Cause Indictment)

Approaching the idea of “knowing professionally”, considering a universal:

         There are people who excel at their profession and, -especially when it comes to ideals of civic duty and patriotism, there are people who excel in their position because they comprehend the intrinsic value served by their roles.

          -There are natural limits to how much needs to be said by any sovereign individual if the goal is to arrive at a time where genuine use of knowledge is demonstrated. An example:

          An educator lives teaching at the high-school level receiving career-long accolades. He is a Dr. of Chemistry, he has side projects where he makes the bulk of his income and he is renowned for decades of superior educating. When asked his secret he says:

          “Educators do not impart knowledge - we cannot, so the only possible goal is to prepare people for when its demonstration is required.”

           Who lucky pupils find these anomalies? Is it a matter of districting, culture or environment? Would we find such a consummate professional in little more than a ghost-town abandoned in the desert? Or will they all gravitate toward those surroundings their knowledge affords them?

           -It is their right, and it means developing minds requiring steadily asserted, usefully communicated lessons, become prone to “education by legislative procurement”; no child left behind, from the common to the core, where tomato paste is a vegetable, every high-school is provided several commercial soda machines, and families struggle to maintain shared smiles while the adults go without dental care for the sake of affording their children’s visits to the dentist.

           -Rotted teeth impacts bone and decentralizes motor control in its protracted impact on the neck and upper spinal column.

           Secrets meant for royalty and their chosen, only reported as inquiries began upon commission, existed for centuries as echoes filling dark catacombs - in air and flesh splitting defeats, as what victims know to be life drains from their corporeal existence.     

…For the innocent claiming they aren’t victims:

[joshbloecker]

One Winter’s Glare -12/25/2019

A poorly preserved tome outlining boundaries for two hemispheres of influence; the spirit, about which many things have been claimed, and the consumer -a neurological demographic-, was deemed fit for mildew, or not worth the expense of a dry keep.

              So we act out, the annual frigid scene provides mimes their muse; rushing, buying, covering, nerves quivering, chests sinking in small quakes, trying to catch our breath. Remembering to smile and extend wishes appropriate to a prolonged errand coinciding with a time of year; the same papers leaving the same hands, and now plastic and keystrokes achieve the same level of interaction, freeing more of us to shy from its social portend. Invite the internal insulation, invent a warm calm space where no one worked fifty hours a week (if they were lucky) to make this night happen, and discover a faint promise in a removed glow, should you find the silence.

A homeless man realized cold freezes straight through the diaphragm this Christmas, and a rape victim was killed before she could reach her phone. A strategy assumed to catalyze the spread of consumerism is best explained in terms of how the market creates the consumer:

               Brains grow in lattice-works of filaments, how these arrangements of filaments shift over time comes to define lobes and cortices, and at nineteen our brains can found its own, “self-originated reason”, the differentiation in the frontal lobe creating this reason center starts at age seventeen. (If they paid you enough to not write this, where would you live? If the pay man was wearing red and boots, would it make a difference?) By twenty three the prefrontal cortex, the center of critical analysis, is in place. The market clamors for the awareness of anyone between seventeen and twenty four; the target demographic.

              One year into a world we know for ourselves on our own individual terms, we are abandoned by the interests of the signal, and its warm shine, the encasing caress of a subconscious courtship -constant and for seven straight years-, is torn from within you, from a part of you you never knew was relying on the ghostly comfort, then the disabling, darkening passages open, and the world bores around you. In its manufacture, the products tend to nurture an affinity for carols, keeping secrets, and praying for material. Buildings with colored glass and ornamented steeples increase in popularity, private and public rites are exchanged indoors and outdoors, while globally reports of a specter emerge. Its presence is marked by a diminished sense of belonging.

            The effect isn’t lodged in the direct awareness, and the traditions ring hollow even as they are participated in, -between mind-numbing lists of momentary demands and timelines, interspersed with appeals for nostalgia about when the season wasn’t busy and relatives, who were lucky enough to afford the time off, were still alive-, and no one notices the silent fights to find what is missing resonating along every bone of their skeleton, sinking to their feet.

Internal landscapes have their own climates, and as seasons turn temperatures, the specter -born from the loss of a steadying hand- revels in the undulating content of the year’s cheer, -from inside chasms it builds under smile lines it pushes and pulls, maneuvering a way to de-focus the eyes.        

[joshbloecker]

The Dangers of Gravity/Eyes Shut: Starlight

      Global membranes of thin icy shells are spread throughout the stratosphere, fracturing upon their forming, and glittering fragments of light bounce off damp bodies swirling into cloud.

“Let’s call this our ceiling.”

           “Let’s make this our home.”

-Arguing for global dominion:

       Clouds become low planks in makeshift floors spread across the lower atmosphere, between their cracks nearly frozen air shifts to ground, quietly sinking to avoid desiccating into warmer spells, with still cold dithering into strings of invisible ice wrapping around your spine.

“Their mansions are out of phase, unseen, midair.”

“Those clouds are like their grounds.”

-Speaking in riddles rattling bone:

       Water vapor concentrates into compressed flat floating partitions, materialized ten feet above ground, channeling the air, unleashing a clear downpour. No one can see the prison. Warm gusts divide us horizontally and cool air shoots downward, dividing us vertically.

       An awareness of physicality and its aftermath settles in. All materials of the world are arranged, specifically known elements, and there is no room for thought.

       All subjects are recycled and refabricated. The terminally entangled equivalence:  Fixtures on walls in their realm shine through the opaque eyes of the newly dead, and recordings are loaded into a machine designed to give clients a “fifth dimensional experience”:

“The entirety of their awareness is yours to live. They died for you to have this.”

“It’s a commodity. It’s nothing original.” -What they consider science:

“It’s easy enough to pull off.”

   “How can you guarantee you’re not their victim?”

       -A constricted inner mass creates all smiles:

       A draw to sink downward settles in - there’s a market for it - it’s important to keep thumbs active. We know we’ve worn down the result. Advertisers will lose interest if it isn’t naked and choked from behind:

       Storms are the externalized interior landscape of every person expressed as weather - each of us individually, and if you remain silent during its onslaught, delineations of past thoughts and emotions begin to press upon you as if they are current developments. 

       Thank you handheld cameras, for your composited, faulty dioramas:

“There is a yearning lurch advancing through her, she’s being held upright by an unseen force in this picture. Here it’s structuring how she lives.”

“There’s a whimsical retreat advancing through him, he’s being dragged apart in pieces by invisible strings in this picture. It’s tearing him into nothing here.”

Starlight: Eyes Shut

[joshbloecker]

From the Book’s Beginning

Statement of Warning T

           Knowledge of the unified field in the hands of people who account for gravity, sentience, and the intent of sentience without classifying the behavior of sentience as right or wrong compels us to this work. This is written as an account of people struggling to define: 

What exactly is going on; who is in control?

-How far have the ones in charge gone with Physics?

-What are their plans? And,

What can be done about it?

           -It is unfit for all ages, making direct display of how bad things literally could be while developing a narrative to provide a composited “Big Picture” appraisal that (fitting the tone), must be covertly communicated and shared exclusively among concerned parties. Asking to know what the “full implications”; “the facts beyond measure” are, and expecting to be coddled into understanding is a delusion readers must abandon.

           With steadfast refusal to assess the scope and nature of the problem, -what with everyone citing needs of personal lives and their interests- we have arrived here, the untenable position.

[joshbloecker]

Earlier in the Book

           Say the increasingly absurd for filter, and as dynamics of disparate arrangements of existence collectively bear down on you, mimic existential angst, it’s received well. Function platform Pluto, theorizing necessary components to explain composite observations and reports received over years from numbered sources. All woe and misery; never finding direction, disappointed by all, then assembling yourself into the least threatening assemblies, to answer a social “need”. Undulating fields of electric blue light playing across surfaces of otherwise darkened environments, though not in every case, can evidence electromagnetic force-fields attenuating resonant chambers, setting physical, directed, whole-field to whole-field entanglement. Take yourself apart into your components, put yourself back together, and you’ll discover very few of the pieces are actually needed, -this is reality. Since all is electromagnetism theories abound about what the electric-blue undulating field, extracted through and as the rest of physicality is, and what the consequences of removing-to-isolate it from the total field are.  

           Everyone embodies a perpetual portrayal of upright, ready to accomplish certainty, and all of them are collapsing, secretly, over timespans collectively unnoticed.    

           Babble inanities, qualifying what defines inane by how much distraction it provides. When the practice dominates over eighty-percent of your interactions, you have arrived, and though we will always defend your right to live and pursue your liberties, you are in our way. Mathematical codices developed tracing signatures of the shifting, locale-specific, temporary fixtures the electric-blue “substrata” creates in the overall field, and the numbers were worked until a centralizing and distributing “node” for the total “blue field” was discovered. Group information travels well through world Intelligencia, and dissemination protocols are developed according to regional group focus and exposures. Lock everyone away if they cannot get over the fact that all currency is, AT BASE, pieces of paper only evaluated through collective agreement, and we live in a world WHERE PEOPLE STARVE. -Hold your head up.

           Sowing malcontent is not the aim- Coordinating station aligns to the planet’s poles, its function is probably based in a method of swaying physicality through dimensions, and is read to be massive; vertically extending downward for miles and measuring about two miles across at its circular top. -Impressing the indelible conviction into the psyche is- It is read to have several internal chambers throughout, each is attenuated by the target field at shifting intervals and because of this, the terms “dimension” and “resonant field-throughway,” are interchangeable. -Honestly, cry yourself numb going to work- Each chamber varies in size, each is made to be directly proportional to common interior dimensions of households and rooms. -Scream your inner voice hoarse- Toward the bottom of the station, and at the precise center, about a quarter of the way up from its bottom, is an oval-shaped resonant chamber. -All factors factored, it’ll prove more effective in the long run.