Having my way with Ulysses

The artificial placation of malignant agencies.


2:57 am

I could kill him in his sleep. I’m so mad I could kill him in my sleep. I hope I do kill him in my sleep. There. I said it. I hope I kill him in my sleep. If I could kill him in my sleep I wouldn’t have to be there for it. I wouldn’t have to look at him. I hate looking at him. Then I could wake up nicely, have a little breakfast, some polite conversation, a little chit chat, and we can go about our lives.

A solution of the secular problem of the quadrature of the circle.

Mortals are immortals and immortals are mortals, the one living the others' death and dying the others' life.

2:53 am

A circle is a circle because it is not a square. A square is a square because it is not a circle. Well now duh. So why do it? Why would anybody for any reason (with any reason) want to square the circle? Why take the one (let’s say the square: all pointed and anchored, so angular, and such fixity (a place for everything and everything in its place) such certainty) and try to make it anything but what it is? it’s good the way it is. Leave it alone. Who needs a turning of this into that when you already have both this and that. And look at that that: smooth and continuous. arcing around, no beginning no end: doesn’t know if it is coming or going, really, and frankly doesn’t care. You can’t pin that down: where to put the pin? Tell me precisely where. Go ahead. Like any coastline regardless of adjacent ocean, the closer you get, the more places for pinning. With circles its turtles all the way down. You would think the square would have no problem becoming a circle, it’s made of such nice round numbers, but sister circle is just so damn big, no matter how small she is. The maddening thing about her is that she flaunts her shape at us no matter how we want to see her. Looks like the perfect place for keeping things in. But how can such a perfect container, (with all the appearance of finite enclosure) harbor such infinities beyond reason? In becomes out. Where does she put it all? No wonder people behave like such lunatics trying to fit their square pegs into her round holes. This is now that, ta daaa! Imagine. And why? Once that’s done there’d be nothing left for them to do. Nothing left for anybody to do. What else could there possibly be? You’re done. You’ve just made the independent discovery of a goldseam of inexhaustible ore. You can go ahead now and buy your own island, no problem, and get down to watching the money riding in with the waves. Would be nice. It could be an art, even, cultivating the purest of possible devotions to one’s own pleasure. Could do anything. Arrange beehives according to humane principles, and the like. Join capital with opportunity and the thing required is done. Maybe even start my own religion. The Holy Church of the Sacred Squircle. No. Don’t like the holy church part. Squirclism. That’s better. I like that much better.

Bentwood perch with fingertame parrot (expurgated language).

They have turned you into something other than a human being. You have no power of choice any longer. You are committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good.

2:49 am

Namaste ladies, gentlemen, birds. Oh! Yes, well, I’ll pretend your bird didn’t say that. It’s all good. Your parrots are welcome to come out of their cages. We want them to feel the calming energy and peaceful environment we have created especially for them. Particularly that one. Good mother earth, the language! I’ll need to recenter myself. Just a sec, please help yourself to a crystal you can keep in your bird’s cage, choose the one that speaks to your energy or better yet, allow your bird to choose it. We have larger quartz clusters starting at thirty two dollars. If you like the music, I said, if you like the music, can anybody hear me? I’ll speak up. If you like the music the cd’s are for sale: celtic wind chime sounds of the sacred oracle. Sacred oracle. ORACLE. Well I can see some of you do need the universe to make them stop. Wow! Big crowd today too. Let’s gently ask our birds to say something less offensive. Oh! Well, now, your bird can really get you into some trouble, sir. Oh no. Ok. Ok. Crap. If the parrots start fighting, we should ask them with kindness to return to their cages. And that’s not fighting. How beautiful! Oh. Oh no. That’s not beautiful. Ok we’ll need to get the rest of them to stop. We need to stop this. WE NEED TO STOP THESE BIRDS, THEY’RE ALL SETTING EACH OTHER OFF! I SAID SETTING! Great Goddess, it’s parrots narrating bird porn! Can we just. Um. Here, throw this prayer rug over them. THROW IT OVER THEM. Didn’t help. So many African Greys today, they tend to vibrate better with white sage, maybe I should just put out this sweetgrass and light some sage instead. Ok. Let’s try to get started. Namaste, welcome, please if you are just arriving, take a seat on the floor. I said Namaste, wel, NAMASTE! NAMASTE! OH! SHOOT! HEY! HEY LET’S KEEP THE DOOR CLOSED, Uh, let’s keep the door closed as the birds chakras will be much more open if we allow them to interact freely with one another and with us. Shall we begin? Begin! LET’S BEGIN! First let’s take a deep breath and palms up to the universe and declare our intent, JUST DO WHAT I DO. FUCK THE BIRDS. OH SHIT. Fuck I’m swearing. Damnit. Ok. Ok. Let’s all calm down, our chakras are all spinning way too fast. NOTHING. NEVER MIND. DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING, JUST FORGET THE BIRDS FOR NOW AND PALMS UP. BREATHE. DON’T WORRY IF YOU CAN’T HEAR ME. O UNIVERSE, we wish to communicate directly with the heaventree of stars and we ask all our angels and spirit guides to be with us here today. Our higher selves humbly ask the higher selves of our feathered companions, I mean the birds not the angels! Ha! The spirits are laughing. I SAID THE SPIRITS ARE LAUGHING! NEVER MIND. Fuck me the spirits have a sense of humour today. Glad they do at least. Our higher selves ask the higher selves of our parrot friends to please find a way to forget the words we wish they had never learned by mnemotechnic. So mote it be. SO MOTE IT BE.  Nice deep breath. Ah! Would anybody like some tea? TEA? Fuck. OK EVERYBODY LISTEN UP, PUT YOUR BIRDS BACK IN THEIR CAGES. BACK IN THE CAGES. JUST GRAB THEM AND STUFF THEM IN THERE. COVER THEM UP. COVER THEIR CAGES. Jesus christ what a clusterfuck. YES YOUR HAND IS UP? YOU’LL HAVE TO SAY THAT AGAIN, I DIDN’T HEAR OVER THE. I’ll go over there. No, we don’t buy birds from our clients. There is a bulletin board in the hall; people sometimes post them for sale on that. Right. Let’s start over. Oh fuck you too. Sorry. Sorry. I’m new at parrot clearing. I can talk to most animals though, but these, uh, gosh darned uh. Yeah. Sorry. Let’s all take a deep cleansing breath. Good. That’s better. Birds are calming down. Covering cages takes it down a bit, but you can’t keep your bird covered up all the time: it’s absolutely terrible for their auras. So. Your birds swear like sailors and granny is coming for the solstice, while we recenter, why don’t we all share what remedies we have tried with our bird families so far? I mean besides the usual things: reiki, chakra balancing, aurasoma therapy, bird whisperers. Ignore your bird, yes, that can help. Your bird wants attention so don’t give attention to behaviors you would rather avoid, but always be mindful they are creatures of the universe who need to give and receive love. What else? No, given the karmic repercussions we don’t recommend punishing your bird in any way. Absolutely not. It would be. Wait. What did you do? And you kept the game hen in the freezer or something? That’s. That is just. I think you should reconsider showing a dead plucked bird to your parrot, not only for the sake of your own karma, but it is clear that your poor bird’s chakras are particularly weak. And telling your parrot that this can happen to him, I just have no words. No, I didn’t say that. That wasn’t me, it was Isis, my parrot. Listen, your aura is so tattered and damaged, you really need to get a realignment.  We can do that here for two hundred dollars and you can keep a recording of the session. Ok. Other ideas we’ve tried? Yes, you? No, we don’t recommend tranquilizers or feeding your bird whiskey to make it fall asleep. What is wrong with you people? Hey. No your bird did not say that, I saw your lips move! Ok. Let’s just do this. We recommend, besides providing a safe and loving sanctuary for your parrot soul mates, that you pick your bird’s favorite vulgar word and find appropriate rhyming words he or she can say instead. Judging from the birds we have with us today, you might consider words like duck, luck, pluck, cluck, buck, stuck, suck. Well, maybe not suck. Or schmuck. Who said schmuck? I don’t think that came from your bird, sir.  I heard that. That one was a woman’s voice. Hey! Ok that one might have been a bird. So instead of that word, why not try a word like itch, ditch, which, rich, stitch. Come on, there aren’t that many birds in here. That was like two dozen voices. Ok, let’s see if, I SAID LET’S SEE IF WE CAN CALM THEM DOWN AGAIN. EVERYBODY STOP TALKING! BIRDS TOO! I knew I should never run a workshop on a day when the moon is squared with Saturn. I knew it. And the moon is in Leo too, what was I thinking! Fuck! Ok. Other words. I SAID WE SHOULD THINK OF OTHER WORDS! SHIT SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! INSTEAD OF SAYING SHIT SAY CHIT, WIT, PIT, TIT, no not tit, PIT, I said that one, SKIT. Once you have your word, record yourself saying it. I SAID RECORD IT. PLAY IT BACK TO THE BIRD ON AUTO REPEAT AND LEAVE THE HOUSE. WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU SIR, YOU WHAT? OH MY FUCKING GOD FOR CHRIST’S SAKE YOUR BIRD WANTS A FUCKING CRACKER! GIVE IT A GOD DAMNED MOTHER FUCKING CRACKER!

What caused him consolation in his sitting posture?

You only dwell within yourself, and only you know you; self-knowing, self-known, you love and smile upon yourself!

2:41 am

I’d rather die than sleep with you Echo, if you really want the truth. It’s not going to happen so please, come on, enough already.

But. Narcissus, you can’t hold out forever. I know what you’re doing. You have this image of yourself you are so in love with, but that’s not really you. Saying all the time you won’t have sex you won’t have sex, do you think that makes you so much more pure than everybody else? You have youth and you have beauty. And you’re a rock star. I’m just saying give it up already. You owe it if not to me, to yourself. You are missing out and here I am. Right here. Telling you and telling you. I could disappear tomorrow you know, and then who will you have to love you? I mean more than I love you.

I have myself. I have my integrity and I know my worth, and I am more valuable to me than I am to anybody else.

You are so transparent. You can love yourself all you want Narcissus, but yourself won’t love you back. God it’s like I’m empty air here, can’t you hear me? I’m telling you!

I’ve learned something, Echo, I can see myself as others see me. But more importantly I see my self as I see myself. I look into my own eyes looking into mine and there is nothing between us. No fears, no doubts. Nothing. The everythingness of nothing. Together we feel very simply, but strongly, the purity of a oneness made from the two of us. We feel it like radiance, projecting outwardly from our center in concentric circles. It feels like waves, Echo. When we connect together within that moment, we are the meaning and even the source of the two in the one and the one in the two. And we feel together, I and I, I feel that this truth has been and always will be true since time immemorial and forever more. Desde siempre y para siempre.

You’re killing me! Narcissus, I love you like you’ve never seen before. I beg you to listen to me.

I can’t even look at you.

Why solitary (ipsorelative)?

To dissect lions / You need lightning / For little owls you need / Forget- / fulness.
2:37 am

Instructions on how to organize the books in my office:

Not chronological, (not alphabetical!), definitely not autobiographical, no fucking way. Friends once bought me a book because they didn’t see it on my time shelf. I don’t have a time shelf. The whole damn thing is a time shelf. Let’s try ipsorelatively categorical. Limiting factors of library reorganization: largest bookcase is a set piece constructed at a scale of approximately 5:4 and designed to look imposing on stage, yet impractical for holding books designed at a ratio of 1:1; improbability of small office capacity being equal to desired portion of entire library, necessitating a library within and a library without; impossibility of knowing in the present which books will be required in the future. Also, library without must be allowed fluid motion, free transference, and ease of flux amongst volumes of library within as if library within were homothetic to library without. Position of two chairs (one: a squat stuffed easychair, no legs; the other: a retrofuture upholstered office chair) and solitary desk must remain unmoved. Now go.

Bellchime and handtouch and footstep and lonechill.

For abundance, even of things that are good, makes people esteem them less, and scarcity, even of bad things, lends a certain value.

2:33 am

Feel the reverb in your body
Where the sound of the bell just was:
Time dying, and
An infinitesimal but sensible fraction of a second later,
Time newborn.
Time dying, time birthing.
Simultaneous double vibrations and double reverberations
Bell, body, dead, newborn,
Patterning everything and nothing.

Feel the reverb on my lip
Where the touch of your thumb just was:
Love dying, and
An infinitesimal but sensible fraction of a second later,
Love newborn.
Love dying, love birthing.
Simultaneous double vibrations and double reverberations
Thumb, lip, dead, newborn,
Patterning everything and nothing.

Feel the reverb in the earth
Where the step of my foot just was:
Fear dying, and
An infinitesimal but sensible fraction of a second later,
Fear newborn.
Fear dying, fear birthing.
Simultaneous double vibrations and double reverberations;
Foot, fear, dead, newborn,
Patterning everything and nothing.

Feel the reverb in the air,
Where the chill of your breath just was:
Will dying, and
An infinitesimal but sensible fraction of a second later,
Will newborn.
Will dying, will birthing.
Simultaneous double vibrations and double reverberations;
Breath, will, dead, newborn,
Patterning everything and nothing.

What celestial sign was by both simultaneously observed?

I saw that each, amazingly, appeared contorted between the chin and where the chest begins; they had their faces twisted toward their haunches and found it necessary to walk backward, because they could not see ahead of them.Right. 2:30 am, Universal Time 2:55, Sidereal time 20:09:45. Conception location: 6w15, 52n20. Is this date right? You are how old? Wow. You look great. Really amazingly great. Did you get much work done? Botox? Doesn’t matter. Gemini sun, Gemini rising, Leo moon. Anyway, the shooting star witnessed at the precise moment your mother centripetally united with your centrifugally oriented father originated from Vega you say? The falling vulture. That would generally suggest a rapid decline of some sort: 32 feet per second per second. And headed right toward Leo’s ass with great apparent velocity. Here, take a look. See? Direct hit. So. Today, Leo’s ass is in direct opposition with Uranus, which at the time of your conception was in the 28th degree of Sagittarius, eighth house, house of death. Let’s look at the progression, Vega, vulture, and holy christ would you look at that. Uh, hum. Just thinking aloud here. I’m not. I want. I want to be very careful I don’t get it wrong here but I see. Huh. It’s just so clear. I’ve never seen. And Uranus in the twelfth house trine moon, which was in Leo at the time of your birth too. Well, for just this moment now at least, we can. Or. Huh. Why don’t we look at Moon trine Saturn first, then we can address the, ah, other thing. Moon trine Saturn says you might want to be alone for a while. Stay away from, um, people. And Saturn trine Neptune, yes. Go on a retreat alone maybe, take a long hike into the woods and stay there by yourself for a while. Meditate maybe. Do you want some tea? Here let me light some incense, your aura is looking, well, let’s clear the air a little. How are you feeling? I’ll be honest, from what your chart is telling me you really ought to be in bed. I can’t in good conscience keep you here. My agenbite of inwit: I’ll need to check my own chart about this. I feel all turned around, so yeah. I need to get my head on straight and you need. Well. Go now, go home and get in bed. If you ah, when you wake up call me and we’ll go over the rest of your chart. But you’d really better, ah, here’s your coat. Oh, and let’s settle the bill now.

The problem of the sacerdotal integrity of Jesus circumcised.

Reach down. A lil mo. So. Draw back your glave. Hot and hairy, hugon, is your hand! Here's where the falskin begins. Smoos as an infams.Holy Mother Public Relations, Inc.
10th Heaven, Empyrean
Meeting Minutes

Date: November 29th
Time: 2:28 am
Location: 10th Heaven Empyrean building: Mary’s office. Also the hallway outside of Mary’s office between her office and the toilet.
Purpose: Crisis mode. Damage control. Situation analysis. Family meeting.

Holy Mary: Mother of God, Mother of Christ, Mother of the Church, Mother of divine grace, Mother most amiable, Mother most admirable, Mother of good counsel, Mother of our Creator, Mother of our Savior, Virgin most merciful, Mirror of justice, Cause of our joy, Refuge of sinners, Comforter of the afflicted, Queen of Confessors, Queen of the family, Queen of Peace, and Queen most forgiving. Also Jesus, Martha, and Joseph.


1. Damage control full crisis mode.

2. Find out if what we have here is an actual crisis or just a situation we can handle like others we no longer speak of (e.g.: Lost track of Jesus’ physical location when he was twelve years old. Got him back, though. Eventually. Also: virginity).


1. Jesus stated that although Martha lives here now, does she have to be here for this? Martha pointed out that somebody has to hold back Mary’s hair when she pukes, which could be any time now. Both then were silent, contemplating the other in both mirrors of the reciprocal flesh of theirhisnothers fellowfaces. Jesus welcomed Martha to stay and help in whatever capacity she likes.

2. Mary says we stole the damn thing a long time ago. Is there somewhere she can lie down or something? Jesus said it was stolen again. Mary wants to know why Jesus didn’t just get rid of the damn thing, it was only a bit of dried prune under all that crystal and gold. Jesus said he thought it was pretty. It reminds him of the ultimate mortality of fruit.

3. Topic: if people discover that the divine prepuce, the carnal bridal ring of the holy Roman catholic apostolic church, conserved in Calcata Rome until we stole it, that the divine shrunken dried up scrap we shoved into that little jar is actually made from an old plum and is not the foreskin of an eight day old boy, we might be facing a game changing crisis of faith we haven’t seen since the Reformation. Ideas floated: steal it back; uphold the excommunication of anybody who speaks of (and we should add onto that: even thinks about) the holy foreskin; immediate circumcision of Jesus and let’s get a new little jar to put it in. The thieves might have the fake, but we can produce the real thing whenever we like. Jesus says no we cannot produce the real thing whenever we like.

4. Mary can’t remember who was the mohel who circumcised Jesus? Maybe we should call him in here. Joseph suggests if Mary wasn’t so obliterated drunk right now she’d remember. And if she didn’t insist on hiring her drinking buddies for everything then maybe we would have had a decent mohel who would have finished the job in the first place. Somebody union even. Martha suggested Joseph focus on his duties. Jesus considered turning Mary’s water into wine.

5. Martha wants to know how it is nobody noticed that Jesus was never circumcised. Joseph said who looked? They never had to change his diapers. He was the perfect baby. So cute too. Quiet. Slept through the night. A good eater. Never cried. Took care of himself, really. Terrible two’s were a holy bitch, but he was such a perfect baby.

Action Items:

1. Somebody make coffee. We need Mary a bit closer to sober for this. Martha? Joseph to make coffee.

2. Martha suggested we not turn this thing into a bigger crisis than is necessary. We must analyze the situation as it evolves and we absolutely cannot be the first ones to signal that we think this is a crisis. It might not be a crisis, just a situation. We cannot look like we are on the defensive in any way. Perhaps we should perform the circumcision ourselves? Mohelim can’t keep secrets. Jesus to clean spot on floor where he just vomited. Also, Mary could use a clean up while you are at it.

3. Martha suggested we never lie to the public about this. We can, however, consider honest misstatements. For example, we might tell everybody that the real foreskin ascended bodily to heaven, but got stuck around Saturn on the way. Joseph to compile a list from Martha’s dictation of possible honest misstatements to be used as talking points. Joseph will check Mary’s schedule and compile a list of possible public appearances she can make on Jesus’ behalf: we think Mary will want herself out front on this so the kid won’t screw it up. Martha to monitor Mary’s fitness for public events as her current ability to get her shit together seems dubious.

4. Jesus to get immediate circumcision so we can produce physical proof if necessary. Jesus first to research the problems of irritability, tumescence, rigidity, reactivity, dimension, sanitariness, pilosity, and degree of severity of ongoing crisis (possibly just a situation and not a crisis) before anybody even thinks of coming at him with a knife.

5. Martha to sharpen a knife.

6. Joseph to get Matthew in here for consultation re: financial impact of crisis. Possibly still just a situation and not yet a crisis. And for Christ’s sake, let’s keep the stockholders in the dark as long as we can. Joseph to contact Thomas Moore’s assistant re: Moore’s schedule asap. We need a lawyer on this.

7. We think Mary said we must be the ones in constant control of the flow and formulation of public opinion. Hard to understand her from the toilet with all that hair in her face. Maybe nobody will care that the relic was never real. Get some people on all the other major relics, can’t have people opening those boxes too: Christ knows what they might find. Joseph to deploy guardian angels to Thomas Aquinas’ skull , Augustine’s elbow, all of the true crosses, and the piece of Jesus’ foreskin in Coulombs Abbey, France. Tell them to take their flaming swords with them.

8. Martha suggested we remain calm. These things sometimes burn out faster than shooting stars.

Minutes typed by: Joseph
Approved by: Martha


Nought Nowhere was Never Reached

But time between one and the other when was brief -- I mean the whens of waiting and of seeing heaven grow more radiant.2:26 am

Look at the stars if you can see them. I see clouds and darkness but I know the stars are there. No. I don’t know that. I know that they were there. The little lights which I do not see in the sky but possibly you do, come from a past which possibly had ceased to exist as a present before its probable spectators (excluding myself) had entered actual present existence. That which I do not see might not be there now, most certainly is not there now, as by now they will have red-shifted position. All those stars running off, taking their planets with them. Ours too. Such a fearsome isolation, all this expanding outwardly from each other, temporality stretching between us. So lonely, having no contact with each other. Yet if we did, our loneliness would compound. We could look up at the stars (I at starless clouds) into distances numbering nine to the ninth power to the ninth power and find our double, as if in a mirror shining back to us: we are here too. The joy of recognition; the first sighting of a lover! And then, and then. And then we will understand in advance the impostvidibility of the past. We will know as if we have already harkened back in a kind of retrospective arrangement that we are already and always have been ever alone. There is our lover, shimmering through lakes of dreams, seas of rains, gulfs of dews, oceans of fecundity, simultaneously loving us back yet already gone. Infinity rendered finite. We would be as the new moon with the old moon in our arms, but our state of solitude is one where there can be no entry. They are gone. The world is gone.