version

Who loves ya, baby?
"All human minds, as they move about over the face of the earth, are in touch with a dark reservoir of our race's psychic garbage. Just as all the thrilling and vibrating thoughts that have animated human organisms survive the deaths of these organisms, so all the heavy, cloddish, murderous, desolate thoughts, in which free will and faith and happiness perish like asphyxiated gnats, roll themselves in a foul torrent into a great invisible planetary Malebolge. This Malebolge is always present and near, a little way below the surface, for all our human minds; and it needs certain occurrences, or certain arrangements of matter, to cause an odious and devastating effluvia from its surface-scum to invade the arteries of our consciousness"

The passage from my book I was taken with this morning.
A Glastonbury Romance?
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
that's right. still going. almost there now. less than 200 pages left
 

version

Who loves ya, baby?
I'll buy a copy when I start buying books again if I find it cheap on eBay. A lot of them are pretty expensive atm.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
this won't be. no one read cowper powys. but they will once word gets out that dissensus is championing him
 

WashYourHands

Well-known member
My experiences of Powys were a truncated attempt at a misspelt Owen Glendower and a few Paul Weston talks on Glastonbury. Paul Weston, a man who sounds like the love child of Tony Adams and Dion Fortune, but I find his zeal quite charming at times. A mate was trying to rope friends into one of Paul’s G’bury tours this year, but then the rona said no.

This morning my first thought was a quiet thank you to the gods for a sleep in. Other half had taken the brood out for a few hours. That’s real love awwww. No emails checked, no noise. Just one human in his pants, dressing gown and long hair drinking tea on a bench in the breeze. You wait weeks, months some times, for a morning with a flat waveform of non disturbance like this. Started raining and while rain is historically character forming, not today. Toast popped. Eggs boiled. Butter melting. You want to know the tell tale smells of Sunday mornings as heaven on Earth? Toast. Thought about a joint, but too early, just that squirrelly part of your brain saying pick up the gun. Resist. Save it and savour it tonight. If you don’t drink, there has to be one pressure valve outside of family.

The same part of my mind that suggested, hinted at, an inappropriately early infusion intervention of cannabinoids started up again - check the news. Check yourself you twat, I’m far too civilised for drive-thru infomercials. Go on, do it, just 5mins. Your hand hovers over the controllers. You crack. “Kanye West to run for president“.

Someone give that woodpecker voice a slap please.
 

version

Who loves ya, baby?
I've read a longform thing he wrote for the New York Times on a trip he took to Russia, but none of his books. I'd just wondered whether the thread was inspired by My Struggle.
 

entertainment

Well-known member
he's pretty raved about in scandinavia, might get to him at a point, but no, the thread was conceived during the crescendo of a terrible hangover shit
 

yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
woke up at 3:30 am this morning and very clearly remembering what i was dreaming, that i could fly and that i used my ability to deliver packages and cargo for people who were in a hurry.

anyway, i quickly realized i had been woken up by the noise coming from the neighbors living opposite the courtyard. their kitchen is opposite my sleeping room and in summer when all windows are open you can hear a lot. they fought and yelled and screamed and it terrified me. i couldn't decide whether to go over, call the police or wait for a bit. i did the latter and eventually it became silent again.

i couldn't sleep anymore though so at one point i went to the bathroom and had a look in the courtyard and saw the guy smoking a cigarette out of his kitchen window and i saw that the door to the basement had been opened and someone had turned the light on. which is weird. why would you go into the basement in the middle of the night? every tenant has a storage space in the basement and it's where the boiler and other technical stuff can be reached, it's a long labyrinth of narrow corridors bending in different directions. there's only one way in.

this morning i went in to have a look, the door was still open and the lights were still turned on. i went in quite deep and made some sounds to see if i'd get a reaction. went back at one point because i thought if someone closes the door from the outside now i'm fucked.

anyway, i haven't slept as bad as last night and i feel like i should've done something. on the other hand, a few months ago one of my other neighbors got murdered so i might just be completely paranoid.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
There's not many things worse than having screaming neighbours. There was a time when everything in my life was going wrong and I hate three sets of screaming neighbour's in a row. One would move out, another would come in. Always late at night while you're trying to sleep and the bad emotion seeps through the walls and gets inside you. It's contagious, that kind of stress and disturbance. Luckily the men never said anything, just got screamed at all night. Made the situation seem slightly less volatile. But really bad even so.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
Now in the flats below there's two sets of screamers but they do their screaming in the daytime and it's more contained. Still alarming though. I a
Can't understand a word they say dos one lot sounds a bit Arabic the other lot sound a bit Eastern Europe. It's worse when they do it in English I find. Better not to understand.
 

Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
Now in the flats below there's two sets of screamers but they do their screaming in the daytime and it's more contained. Still alarming though. I a
Can't understand a word they say dos one lot sounds a bit Arabic the other lot sound a bit Eastern Europe. It's worse when they do it in English I find. Better not to understand.
Years ago, when I lived in Bow, there was this one time when some guy was in the street outside our house absolutely screaming into his phone. I don't think I've ever heard such concentrated vocal rage before. Went on for what seemed like half an hour. I was just glad he was talking in Foreign, because he sounded like he was threatening to poke someone's eyes out with a frozen turd.

Heard some yelling from next door around the start of the lockdown, which was worrying because they've got a little girl, but they seem to have chilled out since then as I haven't heard any since.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
I don't think I can scream at the top of my lungs. A psychic emotional barrier needs to be breached to allow you to do that.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
Two of these women, one Jamacian who always referred to her erring partner as 'little man' and one I dunno, let's just say Ukranian, used to be at maximum decibels, for at least an hour, sustained intensity, shrieking violence
 

yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
the silence afterwards is so spooky. you wonder to yourself, okay, did one of them killed the other one, or did they just stop fighting?
 
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