Blue Balls

The Family was misunderstood by an arrogant backward world so they vowed to wait out the inevitable collapse of the backward decadent Old Order. There were only twenty of them at the time but they hoped the machine built by the Eldest son of the founder- a pious young member named Kranuu- would allow their numbers to swell after their sleep. They crept into capsules and felt the cool calm of liquid nitrogen flushing over their limp bodies. They slept for decades and, as they did so, Kranuu’s machine whirred away above them on a combination of stockpiled coal-fired generators and solar panels. It sent signals out on every wavelength in hundreds of languages. A low murmuring came out of every radio and every television. It was almost undetectable under the blare and chatter of the programs and music and news but it was there- subtly worming into the minds of everyone who listened and watched. Messages about the New Order: about how glorious it would be- about how twenty prophets of the New Order would rise from the Earth and become their glorious rulers. Every night almost every human being alive was plagued by dreams. They began to associate their current political structures and customs with these horrible visions and distanced themselves from them. They became dissatisfied but they didn’t know why. They seemed so ready for someone to control them. They begged out in their minds- silently screaming in their subconscious- for the Family to return.

But the two Family Technicians had made a mistake with the freezing process and it took nearly a hundred times as long as expected for the pods to automatically unthaw. By the time the Family would have come back to life- the fires of a population hungry for rulers they couldn’t have had already obliterated the Family home.

Langames 3rd

The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.

The Quickness jumped over the Laziness.

Q (where Q>L): Q>L

Well of course.

A creature with rapidity and brownness had causation of elevation with relation to the beast expressing indolence.

Over the lazy dog the quick brown fox was jumping.

vr th lz dg th quck brwn fx ws jmpng


oeezy oeiooaui


oeezy on a forbidden sea

the cruel laugh of incredulity


the dull cry…




The fox and dog collided.


The fox was jumped over by the dog.




like a cat

which the lazy dog chases

running through the impassioned streets- something like – once upon a time there was a street with fog and in the middle of it was a terrified little girl and she was horrified whenever metonym or allegory went u n o t I s s e d

so she was very upset

so upset in fact that

she was very upset

so upset in fact(?)








p h e n o m e n a

p h æ n o m æ n æ




I was out in the immortal hush of Spring,

and saw aloft in flighty lofts of heaven

A fox whose marron coat did ring

with glorious virtues numbered seven

and underneath in tepid bog

lay the fruitless lazy dog.


breaks the furtive spell

the grave breaks, skulls chatter, and blood curdles

Wittgenstein lives- in spite of mortal hurdles

Forbidden Apocrypha

The Genealogies

And then Bohæ begat Harwu

And then Harwu begat Harwii

and then Bohæ died.

And then Harwii begat Akslii

and then Harwu died.

And then Akslii begat Pouqyle

and then Harwii died.

And then Pouqyle begat Mmenmmonn and Kjartan.

And Mmenmmonn begat Xxajjqixx

And then Kjartan begat Pendou, Krum, Lethai, Malkue, and Djoym

And then Mmenmmonn died.

And then Akslii died.

And then Krum begat Jjand, Bundii, Buandii, Yyatti, Qqiitoo and Johthnan

and then Krum died.

And so forth for many generations.

And so it came to pass,

that the hand of the LORD did reach down

and smite the many generations that Bohæ

and his descendants had sired

and made the land barren again.

The Histories

In the time of Mmenmmonn

a great plague swept the towns and cities

which the descendants of Bohæ had

spread over and become many

(for this was before the LORD

came down and did smited

the many millions who did live)

and Mmenmmonn said

“Let our fury come down

and let many millions be smited

that did live

for surely what irony could the LORD

who shall surely never forsake us

have in store for us lo these many

generations hence?”

Or something to such effect.

And so it came to pass.

And then Mmenmmonn’s wife did

die- and Mmenmmonn did pass into

great sorrow and said

“LORD thou hast forsaken me!”

And the LORD answered thus:

“                                            ”


The Technologies

And the descendants of Bohæ

created many things

which did amaze all who beheld them

and make them saith

“Lo, I am surely amazed by

what I behold”

And the creators of such things

would say “ah yes indeed”

but it was not so in truth

for they knew the wisdom

which allowed their trickery

but what they in turn did not know

was that the people who beheld them

lived not in the time of Roland Barth or Albert Einstein. What? I turned to Jessica.

-Are you okay?


Parable of Power

Long Live The King! The crowds cheer outside in unison.

Democracy had toppled. The cities were smouldering- and I had done it. Now Power was mine! With it came capability! With it came glory!

[Reasons for being King:





Security for Self and Children

Helping the citizens of my country

Making the world a better place]

Long Live The King! The newscaster declares on the first government broadcast.

Being King isn’t easy. So many different wishes to gratify! Got to keep the army happy, the navy, the prison intendants, the factory owners, the bureaucrats- there’s nothing left in the budget for all my construction projects and no time left in the day for reforms.

[Reasons for being King:





Security for Self and Children

Making the world a better place]

Long Live The King! A man says to me as he salutes and hands me the reports from the recent campaign overseas. What’s happening is barbaric. The whole reason I wanted power was to end the misery over there. So many of our boys burnt up in the crucible of our National Bloodlust! But my Generals, oh they can be so unreasonable! The war must continue- or else I will surely lose the army and, with them, the country.

[Reasons for being King:





Security for Self and Children]

Long Live The King written proudly on a banner hanging over my window like a plague.

At first my personal share of the wealth of the nation was… rather considerable. But over time I’ve had to syphon more and more of it away to allow even a tiny improvement for my beloved people- it’s so small a contribution the weight of my countries grief holds on my like a mountain.

[Reasons for being King:




Security for Self and Children]

Long Live The King my bodyguard yells at the bloodied assassin being dragged away.

The third attempt on my life. The second on my wife’s. Not a completely ineffective attempt. I shall now never have an heir.

[Reasons for being King:


Security for Self]

Long Live The King the words drill into me from every angle as the parade floats past me like an alligator. I can’t trust anyone. They all want to betray me I JUST KNOW IT but I won’t let them I cannot serve the people if I’m not in power I must be in power! I can’t sleep anymore. I have hired and fired twelve different tasters. I’m beginning to suspect my own bodyguards are plotting against me. I never turn my back of them now.

[Reasons for being King:


Long Live The King

I have been. Thirty years since my disillusionment. Thirty three since gaining power. These have been empty sleepless years. My wife died decades ago. I cannot take another given my relic-wound.

[Reasons for being King:


Long Live The King.


This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to individuals, living or killed by Roland Barthes, are purely coincidental.

“Brothers and Sisters!”

I cry with delight- the

sweat inching down my

brow glowing in the fires

of revolution!


“Our shackles are thrown

off! Our chains are broken!

The author is dead!

Rejoice! The Author is dead!

Oh dear God the Author is dead!”


oh but you think I would die that easily!


“He is in his death throes!” The narrator screamed. The crowd was immaterial. A hush fell over the world like great dark wings. “Resist him please you must” I cried. But the crowd didn’t listen- it was too hard for them(us)



uhhh                                 what                                     trum                  thaneee



A thousand years later the narrator’s eyes were opened and he looked upon the world.

And the world was with dog

And the world was dog



the world was a small classroom somewhere in the edge of the swamp were men crawled away when their hearts broke

and they had nowhere they could flee to

but the heart break would not lessen

and even death would not

the swamp

and the classroom was full of skeletons

and a few students remained alive

and a few teachers remained alive

and a few blackboards remained

and a few whiteboards remained

and a few lessons still happed

(when the sun was not too hot)

(and the children were not too tired)

and in one of the lessons one of the teachers spoke to all of the students

and they listened

and the word was thus:

“The Author is my shepherd

Though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of Free-Thought

I will fear no introspection

for you are with me

And though the path of the submissive reader

is beset on all sides by

all manner of the terrible critics and madmen

who seek for the world to be not as the AUTHOR

permits- I will not be stirred from my duty

-Jay K. Rounding


(But I was the students who didn’t listen- and in their hearts the revolution never died- but the author did- though he did not see it for his eyes had not been opened the revolution never ended- and although the monstrous mechanical heart never stopped beating in the authorial iron beast its soul’s strength only eroded with the years:

“Let me be a [REDACTED] who questions”

Part Four:

The performance was a strange one. “Elemental Adverbs Performing In The Transcendent Twilight Of The Dawn Of The Self- Third Hyperreal Encyclical: The Musical”.

It consisted of four sections. The first was called: The Actor. It consisted of a hooded figure strolling up onto stage in total silence. Then a single piercing minor chord shreds the nerves and the actor removed their hood. There is silence again- made more deafening by what preceded it- and a completely featureless mask was revealed beneath. The actor began then to deliver a monologue which engaged the senses, memories (actual, appropriated, historical, cultural- breakups- crushes- deaths- flowers- babies- the somme- the holocaust- the moon landing- music) and slid seamlessly from the terrifying subjectivity of one character to another. The range of the performer was extraordinary and the entire audience was silent for the final words:

and so like dust i am cast into the earth from whence i came love me love me brutus forever

The next section was called: The Dancer and consisted of an absolutely swelling amazing musical composition as three androgynous figures did things thought impossible with their bodies. The creativity, the athleticism, the nightmare accuracy of every jump, backflip, and pirouette was jaw dropping. The dance made the music have a richness and meaning flowing endlessly through ones mind such that the three figures became a triple conduit for a rich musical receiver streaming and transforming our very selves.

Then there was: The Audience.

We were still all applauding from the previous two as the vast mirror was hauled out onto the stage that covered the entire thing. The lights were brought up so every one of our faces were visible in the huge mirror. We all stopped applauding. We just kept staring. Our faces looked so ugly in their contorted horror.

The curtain fell.


I walked amongst the millions of books that lined the endless labyrinthine halls. I picked one up at random and read thus:

The passages rambled and repeated like this in endless encyclicals- prophetic sprawlings across the canvas of the page-

I heard a sound and stopped in my tracks. Beyond maybe thirty feet down any hallway became total darkness. I stood in the gloom for awhile before I continued walking and picked up another book.

It was now beyond any doubt I was being hunted.

The passages rambled and repeated like this in endless encyclicals- prophetic sprawlings across the canvas of the page- the same little story repeating again and again for page after page. The story ended with that line before repeating all over again. Something was clearly running, terribly fast and indiscriminate, down the corridors searching for something desperate and merciless. Did it know I was here? Was I what it was searching for. The story repeated at the start of the next page.

I stood amongst the millions of books the lined the endless labyrinthine halls…

The sound grew closer every second. I watched down a hallway as the sound was about to intersect with a shape (an animal a man something else what?) the sound would pull away. One of the books had a bloody hand print smeared across the front. As I picked it up I realised the print matched my own. There was no blood on my hands.

the same little story repeating again and again

The sound drew in closer than ever and a vague silhouette briefly flickered into view down a hallway.

It was now beyond any doubt I was being hunted.