Managing time is a pivotal question for the young human who wants to flow into the stream of the trends, lead a virtuous and knowledgeful existence or just indulge in personal pleasures.
The problem of finding as much free time as possible, after having worked, slept, eaten or purged, arises furiously each and every day.

The forementioned youngster encounters many hurdles in reaching this goal, obviously I'm talking about the dozens of tedious daily tasks that clustered together build up to an obnoxious amount of time which is unpaid, poorly recreational and by no means creative, merely aimed at the maintenance of a status that not only does not evolve, but seems to require more efforts the further you go on.

sweep, work out, clean the hard-drive, shave, replace the dehumidifying salts, upgrade software, fill the tank, print out modules, delete spam, shower, pigeonhole the letters, go to the chemistry, cut the nails, face cream, hand cream, pour from container A to container B, jala-neti, oral higene, prepair the sack, stretch, swallow vitamins, check weather forecast, undo the sack...

the only solution practically feasable would be to absentmind myself(*). but the idea of training the blurring of my own consciousness in aberrant to say the least, unless we want to consider it a new goal: to take the level of awareness to a higher refinement.

(*)I mean reflect constructively during the completion of these treacherous activities.

The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts. Bertrand Russel said it, and I quote.
Old Far West must have been a real shit hole. Forget filling your lungs with breaths of freedom at dawn and trying invane to embrace the boundaries of the vast prairie... it's a fortune not to be born there.
I would have had very little time to indulge with my cerebro-jerking, unlike now.

True Grit (2010, by Joel e Ethan Coen) is a bit overhyped these days but in the end it's a fair good movie. A Western tail, cruel as the west could be, that the Coen brothers pack together with proven mastery along with some cliches that we accept because - I kind'a suspect - they could be the very bonding element of the movie. But as I said before: it's a western movie...
The King of Limbs (2011) is the new Radiohead release. I remember scaling them back a bit while I was introducing myself to the krautrock of the 70s, but a new album from them is one of those occasions when buddah transcends his body so I pay for a legit download. The first listenings were merely some king of indirect assimilation, absent-minded, more physiological than intellectual. Eventually the dough will sound vagualy familiar. Tom Yorke is turning his ship towards a lesser popular (and memorable) kind of music but still intriguing nevertheless. Thank god.

part I

once I dreamed that my head was a skull... and I didn't have a neck: the skull was just floating over my shoulders.
I was quite shocked when, in the dream, I looked at my self in the mirror and realized in what state I was.
The scene was so striking that I still remember it vividly, after so many years.

part II

Nowadays I found myself reflecting on the meaning of that vision.
Today the message that undergows it is cristal clear.
I wasn't dead, but the image reflecting back was telling me that my head was.
It was a warning: when a mind is conditionable, schematized, simplified, massified, unified, comfortable, indolent, judgmental, obscured, dodging stimulations, changes, devoid of interest, creativity, doubt, with no indulgence for chaos but neither for rigor then it's, in fact, dead.
And one can exist for a very long time in that sorrow and morbid state.

hall of the mountain grill
Hall of the Mountain Grill (Hawkwind 1974)

They knew that a cover isn't just packaging. It's complemental, it's an added value... following in the footsteps of other fellows artists, Hawkwind shook an artistic collaboration with a graphic designer.Barney Bubbles realized marvels for the english space-rock band but the illustration made for their fouth album "Hall of the Mountain Grill" (1974) is nothing but sublime, evocative, futurist, marked with the ineffable sign of classic science fiction and makes perfect coupling with the musical content.

Fascinations, space sagas spring from the derelict laid into the misty alien lagoon, filled with mistery but majestic and impressive at the same time, proud testimony of remote space battles, faded by uncountable centuries along with the reasons that triggered them, the remains of a spaceship abandoned in a foreign world, forsaken, only the echos of the lifes that fought on board still evaporate through the wrecks, saluting the flag still blazing on the hull.

hexakosioihexekontahexafobics, don't read this article !!!
from a passage of the Apocalypse according to Me.

eco 666

"The Beast will rise from the sea deeps and furiously pour his destructive wrath upon the men who polluted it. Everything will be, eventually, made biodegradable.
The survivors will be warmly invited to confer whatever shall remain in the special bins for separate collection (which will be provided by Belzebul Ecological Services Inc.)"


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