The Mathematics of Intent (6)

Let me simplify. The philosophy of math is a constructed corollary of the argument for subjecthood’s privilege as a reality. But reality, math, the subject: I situate these linguistically, mathematically, my irony of objective deconstruction.


The Mathematics of Intent (5)

The mythopoetic nature of what was written before should be clear: Peano Arithmetic, read as individual-Reality genesis/Cogito. A crisper genesis has never been related.

But what was the point of what I just wrote? That the Cartesian subject, in extremis, is not a circularity of signification devoid of human intent, but is, in fact, the human intent within the purest, most circular signification ever: the very mathematics that grounds our reality. Mathematics is, after all, a tool, like any other. But one that gives birth to foundation, and to grounding, and to reality.

Chakra Busta



chakra busta youuuuu must-have seen it coming son?

sparking hoops and hoo those honeyed hips is bomb.

highly likely that this rhyme be of a higher plane

supremely likely that finesse finale to this game.


breaking down

the moral im-perative


it’s that fine line lemma

what’s said and unsaid

by the bully in the base-ment …

little voice in your head

story of the living and the dead

living life like an angel/demon

selling dope to the people we are

liken to believer liken to deceiver

liken to that heathen wreath upon the battle we won.

eastern mystic you my whirling dervish

western seeker i’m a line that went left

balloon effect of the cosmic defence

mandala maketh mean message more we send.

a bigger bang thrown to what’s known

a bigger zone overthrow and explode

you inquire now as to my power girl?

you desire the hour of sight yeah girl?

That Friendly Haze

you the tzar

boom boom black star

into heaven

it who we are

you never went

into it

be aware

you never hit

lying it

began there

super sampling and you’re ramping it

up and under and over and out

shivana sex death life more abject

feed trax   into your mouth

country clad in siri-bam-function

duly noted directional mention

studied like imperial notion

harken to her hysterical motion

all right

all right

this tight

all night

all right

all right

this tight

all night

i was feeling on the bass

when i came to:

the de-sign blaze

that rocked you girl

shoulda known

it when i saw it

that de-sign blaze

that friendly haze

bounty had like Antoine Doinel

saw it through like shattered shard shell

download veil

delicately impale



baby can i ring your bell



Be bounty to dream stuff

this rhyming be the death of us

this knowledge be the life arest

this knowledge be the strife in us

so knowledge so it seem

2 and 3 and holy intellect beat

so knowledge so it seem

2 and 3 and holy intellect beat


The Mechanicals Enter the Stage: “Infinity is Just a Concept”

like a chariot about to reign

over 53 separate sabbath gain

like a sage wiser by the light of higher power

imma liking this here dope beat writer

feeling lighter by the might of

a sonic dose seismic pose

getting higher

and higher

out of sight her

booty reject the booty until our body infinity sally dee hour

I’m that line of light running back home to you

fragmented reality me in praise of you

cause i adore and want more: appetite

gnosis dead sea sushi for the menu: into sight

defined temple of the architecture

sensual measure

intimate elate inner sinner you beginner you fucking winner

body inject left and right finite sally dee-light

infinity is just a concept …. darling

now you’re wearing those fearful stylings

you really know how to dig deep in me

you really know how a nice girl should be

you want azure ocean mythic function

banish my totem in to the long gone

designing maze

purple haze

to bow down and praise

my sunny hailing rally up in the male gaze

prophecy died in kiribati arba

It’s a mystery mine bound by Q B LAH

over demonic here hath no dominon

ontological framework she twerk and try to kill him

intoxicant extrovert godly pervert

liken to strange rules of regular dime street

with vile rulesof your east and hood

viral story of the city hand stayed by good

they want it darker say i’m the many father

say my name be my soul flame


imma blame, tho everybody still know

the C B B-Boy is raw

hard core

running theme on

gun screen won

it’s my theme song

living that danger

human nature

i’m impatient

yet i’m demure

yet i’m a new

yet i’m taming into azure

loving fractures

met you match yeah

in this

soul flame


life or death language game.

runic rahman steadies ship still with them


Shin Aluinis Gabralai 4

The B-Droids took their places within their respective booths and the bass line cranked up deep like heavy duty machinery. The middle aged scoober ravers began to contort, shiver and wild, old skool style, in unison, the K-Bhang really kicking in now. It was for him too, suddenly feeling down with this scene, like the audience were his brethren and sisterhood, like he was back down with his tribe. Like 20 years hadn’t passed, back Ballarding on Earth.

As if to confirm this euphoric vagary, “Scoober forever!” A balding middle manager next to him in day glo woad blew his whistle ear piercingly loud, whooped and embraced him.

The crowd grew increasingly frenetic but immediately froze, along with the beat, as the Antonym materialized a cloud of black and sparkles at the centre of the stage.

The the first telepathic wave of rhyme hit them, harder than the typhoons of Titan.

i spit it and spit it

lyrics of light and posture they hate

universal down store me what be

tapping nuance known like they’re grown

diamond dewing byways viewing

smiling baby now you’re home

its we’re searing by few being

gallery walk pick a path

into rebirth into remorse

now you reverse

what canonic core what ancient law

believe me man believe me god

proud and proven picture long drawn

baby child then teen

in the mirror you fiend

by the brothers of being

we the kings of seen

babe child then teen

in the mirror you fiend

by the brothers of being

we the kings of seeing

bare witness to the truth my god my

shiva-shakti party in denourment oh boy right oh

it’s a slow go for sure

hard line they want it more bro

yeah baby back it oh

yeah sally stack it oh

it’s your daddy with the good stuff love

“I found the first few pages engaging, but it gets very abbreviated and sci fi terminology after a while,” she said.

“Well, obviously, it’s just a draft. Think of this as like a JJ Abrams sequel to the R.C.,” he said, a tad defensively. “It’s set 1000 years after the events of the R.C., in a world where humanity has expanded to the stars. Like Dune, there’s been 3 major interplanetary religious wars that have shaped their society, Crusades to Herbert’s Butlerian Jihad. But the reason for these Crusades stems from the theology of the R.C.: the schism between the SEEN and the Tailorites.”

“Okay, but it just seems a little like what you wrote before … you know, the male and female conversation. It’s basically what you were trying to write, but set in space, kind of.”

“Bah, well I haven’t finished it yet. Just a draft. I guess I didn’t show you drafts of the R.C., you’ll see the point later, when I flesh it out.”

He felt a little defensive but only because he recognized he ought to be: it had been 9 years since he’d actually completed something. In between lay a trail of aborted attempts to get something coherent down on paper.

Shin Aluinis Gabralai 3

They bought some Y-Bhang from a New Dervish vendor, and, holding hands, they ascended the brightwood stairway up to the upper galley of the Green Library.

“I’ve a fun idea: let’s watch the Droid Bards!”

“Are you serious? What are we, teenage kids?”

“Come on, don’t go acting all senior, I know you’d love it. Besides, don’t you want to make me happy? Droid Bard Battles are my favourite!”

The Library galleys were packed. A different group of festival goers in here. Actually the crowd was mostly middle Rites, suburban husband and wives on date nights, aging and fading scoober ravers, all properly settled into their lives with their Orgs and their families, but today adorned with the sparkles and designer snorkels and goggles of their youth, in contrast to their now sensible and conservative powdered faces and purple company braids. Seemed only pre-Rites here being offworld rich kids on Gabralai tourism, the Green Library being famous for being the birthplace of modern Balladry.

She looked at him and smiled, imbibing her Y-Bhang. “Cheers!”

Almost immediately he felt his perceptions shift. He felt happy, cool, natural, comfortable in his own skin, with her, amongst this crowd. The humidity of Art’s summer tasted sweet.

She rose with the crowd to cheer the mechanicals as they entered the stage.

The Chief Librarian played Tamadan, swanning about from his oversight box. As he bellowed into his mic, the spot light moved from one droid to the next.

“B Rise! 0-Successor! And the Antonym makes 3!”

Whoops from the crowd. B Rise was dressed in a black suit with bowler hat, performed a theatrical bow at his introduction, a wry smile upon his sliver lips. 0-Successor was a shining red droid: at her introduction she extended her 8 hands into a series of beatific mudras, he recognized as signs of the Vedic-K Army. The Antonym received the biggest round of applause, recognized as the reigning champion of Balladry for at least the past 4 years. A barely visible, partly perceptible presence, it shimmered and glitched at its announcement.

“You know I read somewhere that the Antonym’s designers styled him using old camouflage tech from the Crusades. Don’t you think it’s funny that what is now so chic and cool was once seriously military tech?”

“Really? Oh well … Who cares?” She shrugged. “Oh well at least he battles like a soldier, and drops rhymes like bombs.”

“Ha ha, funny.”