featuring Dr. Omed's Patented Oil of Prosody
and the dancing Elders of the Seventh Day Atheist Aztec Baptist Synod.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
RAIN BIRD
This is a frottage I did in Denver about 1992. I was wandering around talking to myself, making rubbings of anything that was relatively flat and had raised or incised shapes, patterns, or texture. The "rain bird" was a rubbing of the top of a lawn sprinkler. I offer it as the blog-image equivalent of a rain dance.
I like to queer the pitch, to do my bit to increase the viral memetic load in the precious bodily fluids of the World Wide Wheeee. So I write my own code.
The world is my petrie dish, and I want add my mite to accelerate the processes of Lamarckian cultural evolution until somebody cries UNCLE.
I do this for sheer joy, not out of bitterness. I am a Pentecostal Atheist putting on a tent show revival, speaking in tongues and witnessing to the Word of not god but the Mammon of my counterfeits of meaning. Are you washed in the Blood of the Metaphor, oh my darling?
Just put yourself in the hands of the Right Reverend Omed and let us go down to the Heraclitian River placed in this poem for your convenience and honey take those old things off ‘cause I’m gonna play Doctor all over you like Jelly Roll
played the whorehouse piano
and you are gonna be something new under the sun when I get thru trust me I am not a doctor.
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