April 20, 2014


It is requisite
for the relaxation of
the mind to bear sin


Because we cannot
know what God is, we live by
faith’s poetic myths


Law: an ordinance
of reason made by him who
has care of evil


A man cannot live
without the sorrow of his
carnal addictions


Beware of the book
of knowledge; it is but a
material thing


The active power
of the male seed tends to the
production of death


Nothing on this earth
is prized more than a woman’s
playful endowments


In order for a
war to be just, it requires
no explanation


Life’s greatest pleasure
is the tedious pursuit
of true salvation


The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #32

April 11, 2014

Hexagram 32: Hêng—Duration

Constant hang, no blame.
Long and strong under rigid
Lei Feng facies,

the Tao of Heaven
and Earth hangs blame-free on a
road with no end and

no beginning, a
flexible Toshisada,

constant. Sun and Moon
days: the four seasons change, saints
people the world, all

feelings visible.
It’s like saying: Lei Feng, a
gentleman, is not

standing easy. Death
harvests a mechanism of
regret, pursuing

virtue, too ashamed
to attack, dredging for the
tolerance of tin,

German poultry in
the non-place of Andrew Bird.
A fierce woman, a

lady-fierce teacher,
is like saying: Got my own
way! The mean time of

constant vibration
is a reactive culprit
without death’s honor.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]


April 3, 2014


Profanity is
like drilling rock and blasting
life out with charges


I have learned a great
deal from listening to fools,
failures and jackals


Grace under pressure
is hunting drunk when you’ve shot
one bird all damn day


A typewriter is
a weapon; a novel is
a war to the end


Innocence marks the
permanent ruin of an
intelligent man


Love is not for the
sweet butterfly; love is for
the bloody buzzard


Politics is like
bullfighting: revoltingly
solemn and funny


Suicide is the
shortest answer to any
problem except death


Happiness is the
tendency to feel moral
when you’re immoral


The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #31

April 1, 2014

Hexagram 31: Hsien—Influence (Wooing)

Salt against Gen Next:
fetch a salty girl sense of
air induction, death

to the second phase,
flexible and rigid. Fetch
a girl sense of the

world, saints moving in
of heart-peace under

men and women in
a universe visible.
It’s like saying: a

gentleman with a
salted thumb and fibula
is a virtual

person, a mountain
of fierce harm. Log out despite
the flushing unit

salted with practiced
regrets, flickering between
friends too mean to be

thinking victims, bright
Zhen Ji mechanism of salt-
assisted cheeks, tongue.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]

The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #30

March 27, 2014

Hexagram 30: Li—The Clinging, Fire

Fire on, fire off, fire
under fire, animal fire,
female fire. Moon days,

beautiful cattle
in the valley, the world formed
Ming Zhao soft, tears of

Noriyuki, world
of vegetation and soft
yellow tomorrows.

The Shoe King is wrong!
Like saying: Chiang Kai-shek has
assumed the functions

of old people on
a day of hard pretend. A
drum, an earthen jar

of PR and song
can be burned long before tears
without tolerance,

folded sudden and
ugly into battle with
a hard quartet of

states, participates.
It’s no blame to be eighty;
no blame to be dead.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]

Elaine Sturtevant

March 20, 2014


is the understructure of


engenders hostility:
the frightening seen!


Intuition is
the piss that waters the loss
of hierarchies


Authorship is a
fraudulent readymade, a
vague imposition


The cybernetic
excess of America
is retard funny


Repetition is
the displacement of space with


Deleuze and Foucault
are the big bang of mental
exhaustion—fuck them!


Duchamp and Warhol
are a pervasive turn-on
with no threat of sex


[Sturtevant is virtually unrepresented on quote sites. All text pooled from interviews with Peter Halley, Hans Ulrich Obrist, and Bruce Hainley.]

Damien Hirst

March 4, 2014


I’d like to put the
Beatles in formaldehyde . . .
but it would be wrong


I was brought up a
Catholic; I don’t have to
believe in England


Love is like a sheep
collage, and you can always
get another sheep


The goal of life is
immortality—I would
like to deviate


art is ridiculous; so
is integrity


Every crass artist
has to reinvent Pollock
without a canvas


Hardcore poetics
is Philip Larkin writing
about an ashtray


America is
a medicine cabinet
floating in vomit


There is nothing more
morbid than advertising—
it’s a death funfair


Kristen Stewart

February 13, 2014

My Heart is a Pillar of Free Waffles

In my spare time this
month I read the black neon
clock’s universal

values, bomb blasts or
legs. I want to clean the bones.
Your body is an

abrasive device
that spray paints every known stone,
a man example,

clear guard of solar
windows, outdoor energy,
the pane result of

a hit taken for
all. And I will attack from
the freedom pole one

day, away from the
long bamboo handles that don’t
dig their own dust, don’t

match the language of
the demon language, melting
the currents of my

drunk eyes down to my
fingertips, seeing my drum
hands shake my branches.

[via Bulgarian-Greek-Hmong Daw-Latvian-Urdu, Bing translator]

The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #29

February 6, 2014

Hexagram 29: K’an—The Abysmal (Water)

A water bucket
under a ridge, Key Biscayne:
dimensional hearts

hang on a line of
acquisition thresholds—risk.
Rover is learning,

when water rather
than profitability
flows, risk is losing

its letter. Just hang
Victoria! Natural
defense is rising,

dangerous mountains
and hills power kings, public
insurance in its

country at the time
of the Ephesians. Teach a
gentleman with a

practiced bucket and
risks are cut smaller. It’s like
saying: do not use

the fierce road to Key
Biscayne without the pillow
of insurance and

two bottles of strong
wine in an earthen jar. The
reactive window

of loss, erected
as the standard of smaller
acquisition, cuts

the spine in clumps of
depression, a bucket of
blame placed flat under

the year’s only road
with old Michael Zimmerman’s
ink deposit lost.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]

Andy Warhol

January 22, 2014


Paintings and films are
really just like toilet seats
and shower curtains


Artificial sex
is like eating peanuts: Once
you start you can’t stop


Pop Art will ball you,
but Abstract Expressionism
will come in your mouth


The President is
always lying. So what? I
try not to notice


Love is Liz Taylor
having a Coke and a hot
dog in a limo


Poor people won’t be
reincarnated—they have
no real incentive


America has
a long tradition of great


Mystery is the
mother of art, but money
is its weak husband


The richest people
have no problems, no defects,
and they’re not boring


There’s a difference
between plastic and empty:
empty is shiny


Ways of Looking (At a Blackbird)

January 6, 2014

I’ve been to three minds
and twenty snowy mountains
as a tree with three

blackbirds moves in the
autumn wind whirled with small mimes.
A man and woman:

I am one. A man
and woman and a blackbird:
I am one. I know

what you want: beauty
of inflection and beauty
of cues, the blackbird

whistling “Teddy”
and the long icicles of
l’ombra del merlo.

It’s gone back and forth,
a vidrio barbaro
mood described in the

shade, the thin cause of
indecipherable birds.
Haddam, know-golden,

noble, imagine
the blackbird walking the walk,
understand accents,

women, clearer rhythms; I
know the blackbird is

involved. How do I
know? When the blackbird flew out
of sight he scored clubs

from a crew of green
pimps, the perforated edge
of a glass fear. The

float of time has been
modified. Fly, euphony!
The moving river

is looking at the
same blackbirds snowing, and the
thirteenth century

cried all afternoon
in Connecticut, evening
going among snow

as the blackbird sat
in snow shadow, cried in art
shadow of cedar.

[via Italian-Romanian-Swedish-Spanish-Slovak, Bing translator]

The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #28

December 27, 2013

Hexagram 28: Ta Kuo—Preponderance of the Great

A radial wind
is against you, big, greater
than big. You, weak, will

hang shortly, as in
Italy at the time of
the Ephesians. Be

independent. A
gentleman without fear or
favor, a stuffy

imperata, blame-
free, erected, will wilt, de-
wood, soft like an old

fellow. Women, wives,
may not be supported in
a fierce radial

attack. Women can
be ugly, a blight bestowed
on Takayuki.

Neither find fault nor
praise with the place of facies
or dolphin brothers.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]

The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #27

December 27, 2013

Hexagram 27: I—Corners of the Mouth (Providing Nourishment)

Seeking a pretext.
A pension, a self, a watch,
all living things: saints

nourishing yin in
Italy at the time of
the Ephesians. It’s

like saying: Thunder
Mountain is the cheek of a
gentleman’s heaven,

a Scheer turtle of
careful speech and diet, a
gourmet kitchen, the

fierce blame-whisk of the
missing class, ten years eyeing
a contrary road.

Like saying: Britain
is the culprit, brushed along
the top frame by frame

but not involved in
the celebration. Seek the
view not less than you.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]

F.T. Marinetti

December 23, 2013


A museum is
a hospital of serpents,
a roaring death horse


The fisticuffs of
my lips sing of metalized
love and injustice


Patriotism is
individualism: a
steel temple of pride


Open your heart to
unknown forces in order
to overcome art


Woman, a rioting Moon,


The skyscraper is
the greedy locomotive
of time’s uselessness


Poetry must be
as immortal as plastic,
an absurd ruin


The I Bing: The Book of Exchanges #26

December 12, 2013

Hexagram 26: Ta Ch’u—The Taming Power of the Great

Large livestock are not
eating on a dry hill in
Germany. Big glow

of big animals,
vigorous glow of German
Lili, a fine horse,

a fine Methodist,
unshakable wheels, mountains
free of the spokes of

disaster, cattle
pens and sheds happy, the road
decorated with

lines and diagrams.
The gentleman celebrates
the chase to its end.

[Original Chinese (auto-detected as Chinese Simplified) via Bing translator]

Hex 26


December 7, 2013


The contemplation
of absolute darkness is
the horror of love


The boundary which
divides art from life is the
fire of the insane


Religion is the
madness of the soul and the
poetry of tears


Death always has a
generous effect on a
woman’s eloquence


Science is a crime,
and sanity a fraud, a


Faith is a dream of
Christ with long intervals of
gossamer terror


Nothing shall turn me
from an abhorrence of cats:
they are fear, evolved


The irrational
imagination is pure
analytic truth



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