glitterpie

Nov 08

[video]

[video]

Et de l’Étoile à la Concorde, un orchestre à mille cordesTous les oiseaux du point du jour chantent l’amour

Et de l’Étoile à la Concorde, un orchestre à mille cordes
Tous les oiseaux du point du jour chantent l’amour

[video]

Nov 06

Kenton,
this is for you to make up for this.

I remember once, when we were in middle school art with Ms. Jensen, we had these sketchbooks we had to work on. I asked you what I should draw and you said, “Hey draw one of those moon-pie-faces with a rocket coming out of its eye!”
That was a true story. I tried to do it, but it didn’t look as cool as the Mellon Collie “Tonight, Tonight” video so I kinda gave up.

Kenton,

this is for you to make up for this.

I remember once, when we were in middle school art with Ms. Jensen, we had these sketchbooks we had to work on. I asked you what I should draw and you said, “Hey draw one of those moon-pie-faces with a rocket coming out of its eye!”

That was a true story. I tried to do it, but it didn’t look as cool as the Mellon Collie “Tonight, Tonight” video so I kinda gave up.

Nov 05

squirmy art

Nov 04

Nov 03

The Ensanguinated Globular by: Ben Sheene

Through the darkened pink my chestnut brush soaked the hovel
in a phosphorus gleam beam
With the gruel in my shadows I attempted a bittersweet dance upon the panderer’s bones
As he automatically glistened his smile in my misdirection I managed
a beacon of bacon
that only the shard of my duplex could comprehend with muster

Frollicking through the angular fog the stick shift clutched the gear
Grinding me to a franklin-like stop.
Sadness tickled the underbelly of the fox as we changed places in the weather seat.
Booms and treebark thunder stained my coarse back hair
As I used the pontifactor’s oil to further light my way through this pelican mist.

My brain no longer crudely creviced
I shotputted my party through the knolly grass.
Finally my apse cloak frothed to its maximum plumage and broke the gloss of the sky
The beams froze in place and the mickleberry bush filled my bosom with
great pumiced pleasure.

Me and the fox with his pleasant party of ganthors and slickknacks

forever dwelled in the tumescent radiance of the brilliance

Warmed and curdled within the safety of the checkered love pillar

with analysis by Rachel Tapley: “Ahem. “The light (phosphorus gleam beam, glistened, beacon) and movement (the bittersweet dance) in the first stanza constrasts beautifully with the obscurity(fog, thunder, mist) and stillness of the second (“a franklin-like stop”), although ultimately light and movement triumph: the speaker finds hope in the form of the mysterious ‘pontifactor’s oil’ to light his way as he progresses through the mist.

In the final two stanzas, the speaker and his fox companion continue their journey into a bizarre Jabberwocky-esque erotic landscape, peopled with ganthors and slickknacks, until they find sanctuary in the presence of “the checkered love pillar,” the “tumescent radiance” of which evokes a giant phallus.  The phallus is announced by proleptically by the presence of phallic imagery, namely the two uses of the word “beam,” in the singular in the first stanza and in the plural in the penultimate.  It is also notable the first beam helps the speaker find his way through a “darkened pink,” undoubtedly a reference to the feminine sex.  These beams, associated with beneficent light, show the speaker the way to phallic safety.”

Word Salad- The Prophecy of Sheene

boot-scootin' boogie

thepulpgirls

ateaquitudobem

allcreatures

youmakemefeel

unicornflakes

thumbswithhands

ZEBRA MIND-FUCK!

…courtesty Yehrin Tong

ZEBRA MIND-FUCK!

…courtesty Yehrin Tong