The measures are very clear. Only odd thing is that the so-called democratic countries and politicians willingly support this survival of the fittest ideology. Media functioning as the megaphone telling loudly how things are and how afraid we should be.
art
Gamblers mentality – you are making it. ”I ride the wave that’s what I do” Trading business and stuffed animals look the same: Oh, I shot a Rhino, got photographed in front of its dead body with a gun in my hand and cigarette in my mouth. Not hiding my sentiments. Hardcore sport at work and in leisure time. Enjoyment, thrill, ecstasy and orgasmic adrenaline as fuel and flow to be in, live in. Game of little boys.
Good evening. Suck on this. You crazy son of a bitch! I kill you, I kill you, I kill you Whenever there is a change there is a reaction to the change. You name it we got it. It’s a crazy world we live in. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Njoq3HDYwj0 electronic trading brings stability, it is a very efficient market place.
Documentary film Floored 2009 (see link) ends at the time of 2008. It was the time of the beginning of recession or should it be said the revealing of the financial decline, it breaking out, around and up. At the end of the film George W. Bush is giving a concerned and empathetic speech about stock market decline. He is with us, with our worries in this ”extraordinary state of economy”. ”Some have failed, credit markets have frozen. We are at the brink of serious financial crisis.” It is a beginning of some sort.
Making a lot of money, aggressively and in a possessed way. If demons are not in there, I’ll be damned. It is not just a cattle pit. It is mental. Moneymaking is what they concentrate on doing with their body and mind focused on timing and the right hit. Which is their main goal, reason for working, big bucks, show-off and to perform. Most say they do it every day as a way of life. Macho image is part of that way of living as is smoking cigars and spending money like candy. It surely is a question of personality and values. It is a highly masculine field and brutality of the business is very clear. Traders do not seem to be sorry about it at all. It is part of the trade to take big risks and win or get hurt. What are they trading? Numbers that go up and down.
They enjoy the game. It is a boy’s dream come true with I fucked with playmate of the month. In the film it is not mentioned what it is they are trading. It does not play a role in their thinking what the businesses are doing as long as they are winning. It is just money. We are money.
Shock is that there is no shock in the end. This is a norm. Recession is a norm.
My sentiments poor thing: you just think in a very predictable way
me to be e, to be what you think in your way is strength. What do you mean, in your way, exactly? or You think is strength exactly, at all, physical or mental, is it a thing of comparison, to know? This or that, either way, what you lack is its depth and the dark where one cannot see, a place which is deep and dark at night.
Me to be a letter, me, to be a. Why should not I have all kinds of feelings about it, the good in destruction, there is humiliation, of course, I will be humiliated. I with lack, me the inferior by this and that, of course, I want you badly to look, how else I am the one to be belittled, take a look. Destroyed by looks is a weird process, if you subject to it. Want me to be a? So, I want you to b b.
Don’t cry on a bus where everyone can see your twisted red face and hear your misery.
Don’t cry on a bus where everyone can see your twisted red face and hear your misery.
Descent into hell. Icon. Second half of 14th century. Collection of State Russian Museum
Divine Harmony, there was a dark hair in between the first pages of the booklet. Lucernarium psalms and stikhirad (verses)
O mild Light, mercy of Peace, praise
troparion (something repeated) short hymn
polyphonic we
drink coffee out of vases,
hang ourselves to trees and ceilings
no time to get gloomy though
Week of the Blindman with clay in his eyes
I think he was telling me the truth on Easter Monday. Nonsense. Couple of lines from a movie Big Bullet written down for fun: My name is Bird. My name is Bird.
Don’t stare at me. Please. My name is Apple. Forget Fiona.
My name is Jeff. Anything else?
My name is Tongues of fire?
Maybe, You want blood on your hands? Why would I want that?
Art is there as mere decoration, but mostly non-existent. Oh what lunacy, I feel like screaming. What is it about visual harmony that appeals to us, or some of us. It is for the most of us. How are we made to believe it is good? Imitating harmonious state of mind, some kind of ease and comfort. Clarity, clear view to lightness. Lightness as white, light, day, sun, morning, growing, flourishing. Is this a bourgeois dream?
Abolishing colour in see-through with plastics. Stylish bump into concrete, grass, steel and glass. Hugeness in the illusion of space, availability and air, door which you cannot see nor find. Where is the handle? (they open when you approach, doors). It is called intelligent design, movement sensitive, observant, probably stylish imitating invisibility and accessibility, meta place. And other thing is our obsession with size, protective surfaces (protection from what?) that glow far, glowing obsession with cheapness, glow shows worth while things, raises attention with taking over space with smile, spaces, minds as spaces to invade and cause massive appetite. What does it smell like? Cleaning substances, explosive mediums to keep it shining. Maybe I’m mistaking the glow. It is the lights in the night after rain that make the divine shine, spots, neon. What would glow of something be without the actual essence, inner-outer body of light, body to shine full of? Effortlessly sliding in beauty, in awe. Breathing in mutual understanding of good. Good that it will be brought to us, good that will become if done as we are asked silently to do, encouraged to be brave and fierce models.
Give me more of that middle-class openness b-shit, I’ll surely explode.
We visit and leave. It is not like we should get amused by narrow and low, grey and white.
Bricks, brick wall, piles of bricks aside the road promising stability and forthcoming work. As I have compared brick walls built over a hundred years ago to this day, the difference is astonishing. Of course we now have the element building strategy. It has made constructing fast and highly machined heavy-duty. The differences between times strike me, they hit me. Differences between wealth, health, strength and endurance of people, society and houses. It use to was self-evident to pay attention to detailed work, to detail, which slowness of doing made possible as also will and ability to build in a decorative variable way. Now we do not have the money nor time. Contrast is puzzling and the common statement of not having time nor money. People in general had less both hundred years ago. Were they less afraid or did they have more appreciation towards life in general and how our actions effect to life of others?
It is a different time with different values and we are in a hurry. The way we build tells that story. Tale of no time, things being done in very little time, but with massive volume. People are treated the same way as massive volume moving cash. We are units of bringing in and taking. To give takes an effort especially voluntarily and without cost. But still in the name of good. We have a religion of good. We yearn the cream to be poured into our mouths.
useinkin yhdentekeviltä näyttävät asiat
Have you met Lucifer in this time of adversity, Do you know Her? Or is it Him? Is it sex? Walked in the dark woods, wet and afraid. She has a beautiful name. But it is not very ladylike to drink out of the bottle
She is just a little girl, but it is about to get very cold in here. fragile millimetric frost in layers, peeling up, shining through, letting incoming light come through, shock me, panic me, make me, revealing guilt and what to do with it. With waste that cannot be hidden, mud-like material to learn from, to apply on. Acknowledge it, admit it. There is no such word to make it up, fix the toxic mark, heal the broken bottle, used needles, anything left behind, any trace that tells me. Pure venom. Bite, lethally bitten. There is always a cut of skin, that’s what sharp objects are for, cutting.
Majakollektiivi Timanttimetsä 