Wednesday, April 27, 2011


It is the case that when I'm doing philosophy, 
doing the classical act of contemplation, 
writing the classical words, "praying", 
loving with philosophical love, 
describing the indescribable, 
thinking the unthinkable, 
         am I deceiving myself?  
Is it all a pleasurable nothing?  
Is it avoidance or simple insanity?  
Is it the case that there is nothing that is the case corresponding  to my intensity?  
Am I thinking myself?  
Am I thinking myself into non-existence or worse?  
The question is unanswerable. 
 But the answer is provable.  
With a proof that is philosophical, thus partaking the question itself.  
Or of being as question.  
But not before the glimpse.  
The case that it is the case that is the case that it is the case until it all peters out of infinity exists.  
Choose your drink. 
You will inevitably fall in love with the cup bearer, and the questioning will start all over again.  One night in a tavern of Being will make a hard man humble.
Error is not nothing.  
An ontological ground must be found for it.  
Deception is part of being.  
    We cannot escape God by living a lie.  
        The ugliest is beautiful.  
            The most despicable is very good. 
 Being and truth and God himself are everywhere.  
   That is the most maddening.  
      Contraries unite identity, but is there a third.  
Is there a land of difference that doesn't suffer this fate. 
 Yes, there is.  And it quickly changes places with identity as truth when it is looked at.  
So look away as soon as you look.  Maybe sooner.  
same, even THE same.  They are also but; ; ;p7j /and.  Blus    is therefore.  You know perfectly well what I mean.  Excited tedium.  
But if a very pretty girl were to seriously tell you all this you would help her believe it.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011


You saw something that was sure; 
something that would save you and save your friend, 
your beautiful friend, 
from death.  
You saw something that cut into your eyes.  
    You saw a light that went right into your heart.  
And now you see it has not consented to be speakable.  
It has made you a fool.  
                            It has become too obvious.  
Being is too close.  You will try to make it strange and desirable.  
You will rip the dark night right out from inside it and show it to your friend and make her, force her, to understand what has happened to you.  To see the vision that has forced its way on you.
In the darkness,
  near the streets of society,
     away from society.  No need for the things of society.  
In the actuality where society drops off into eternity.  
In the act where each thing finds its one thing.  
Out in the wilderness of spirit your beloved can never leave you.  
Here is the forceful taking that cannot be undone.  
Here the words between spirit and spirit are ropes.  
The scratches of stiff hair.  Eternal uneasy stimulation.  
Sand against your skin.  
    Dry wind.  
       Sober thinking.  
          Graceful manners.  Spirit trapped in spirit.

Monday, April 25, 2011

You are such a cultured thing.

I am such a cultured thing. 
  So one more time.  
Don't criticize me.  The criticisms are all true.  
I'm perfectly able to negate your negating.  My decadence is pure.  
I have stopped nowhere and let filth gather on me.  
In fact, I have been nowhere except with you here  
Your judgments are all about yourself my dear.  You can't kill yourself by killing me.  
Though you may be lonely after that.  
Liven up.  It hasn't been all that bad.  
So what do you say?          One more time?  It will be delicious. 

Lazy, spoiled, rich kids of the universe.  
  You are such a cultured thing.

Yours Sincerely,  
Slevin Devilkiss

Saturday, April 23, 2011


The brain that creates beauty also creates tragedy.  The brain that solved the riddle of the cosmos and mathematics of quantum electrodynamics also creates myths that destroy, weaken, enslave, ensnare and paralyze.  I acknowledge that I am born a fool and am living in an insane asylum.  I do not seek to make sense out of the senseless, I do not look to find reason in chaos. Being convinced that those about me are nuts, I commit to the law of the self rather than the blatherings of the herd.

Let this credo be a birth pang into the blogoshpere.  Blah fuckin' blah.

Billionsof blogs exist, I know.  Trillions of thoughts, to the power of the Nth degree exist, I know.  I hold no ego with this blog.  Nor do I expect anything from this.  Let's just see what happens.