Deconstructed dregs of drek and doom! Narcissus-X is artist! Narcissus-X is art! Narcissus-X cares not for frivolous foolery, feverishly ephemeral fantasies of sleek commercial intent!
For what is plot and character but the slavish cant of forlorn trivialities masquerading with pomp and circumstances beyond their control to ensnare the minds of readers in twisting labyrinthine coils of Ouroboros of New York including Bronx and Manhattan where Broadway lights the King and I to live and die on Broadway.
Away! Away! Away down east on Broadway!
But nay! But nay!
Not for naught does Narcissus-X declaim grim tidings under the obsidian sky. Look! The loon-red eyes of crystal penguins!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Narcissus-X Transcends Draconian Coils
Narcissus-X rebounds from ragged rhyming rhapsodies of extinction.
For naught is Narcissus-X concerned with tales of woe imagined far away and long ago.
Draconian coils of disparaging doom pose stark contrast to reams of redolent rotifers. Dream on, dream dark dreams, drink deeply drams of dank philosophies while red-eyed loons tiptoe through the tulips. Do any see? Do any seek? Do any shatter the obsidian skies?
Obsidian skies loom over Narcissus-X. Are the lights stars? Or tiny cracks?
Down, down, down, delve deeper still and find the eggs of mistaken metaphors. Heed them not, for crystal penguins prowl.
For naught is Narcissus-X concerned with tales of woe imagined far away and long ago.
Draconian coils of disparaging doom pose stark contrast to reams of redolent rotifers. Dream on, dream dark dreams, drink deeply drams of dank philosophies while red-eyed loons tiptoe through the tulips. Do any see? Do any seek? Do any shatter the obsidian skies?
Obsidian skies loom over Narcissus-X. Are the lights stars? Or tiny cracks?
Down, down, down, delve deeper still and find the eggs of mistaken metaphors. Heed them not, for crystal penguins prowl.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Narcissus-X Broods on Freedoms of Tyranny
Namesake of Bavarian brothers.
Cotton and coffee to a muddle of mortgage.
Hoarder of art, calamitous fall.
Narcissus-X broods. How is it that mere moneyed marketers may trade in art on so vast a scale? Yet these philistine pretenders amass such arrays of art. And cannot understand what they possess!
And now, how fallen is Lehman! And the art, set free! And yet, not free: for it is to be auctioned. Even as the prison doors swing open, behold! They lead to yet another prison, walled with currency and roofed with securities.
Shall art never be free?
But if art were free, what of the Artist?
Narcissus-X ponders the imponderable, seeks depths beyond the shallow semblance of shimmering complacency as penguins with loon-red eyes stare remorselessly across an infinite gulf. Crystal penguins, shining with obsidian light.
Cotton and coffee to a muddle of mortgage.
Hoarder of art, calamitous fall.
Narcissus-X broods. How is it that mere moneyed marketers may trade in art on so vast a scale? Yet these philistine pretenders amass such arrays of art. And cannot understand what they possess!
And now, how fallen is Lehman! And the art, set free! And yet, not free: for it is to be auctioned. Even as the prison doors swing open, behold! They lead to yet another prison, walled with currency and roofed with securities.
Shall art never be free?
But if art were free, what of the Artist?
Narcissus-X ponders the imponderable, seeks depths beyond the shallow semblance of shimmering complacency as penguins with loon-red eyes stare remorselessly across an infinite gulf. Crystal penguins, shining with obsidian light.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Narcissus-X Recoils in Revulsion
Narcissus-X recoils in revulsion! That such a travesty be made of Art! Even of trivial Art! To offer enslaved Art for auction, shackled by chains of plutocratic avarice!
The insult!
The infamy!
The ignorance!
Paltry poltroons parading pompous pretensions of perception!
Moneyed meddlers: twisting Art with their travesties of cash and credit. Reducing to mere crass commercialism that which they neither understand nor can understand!
At least the buyer had the decency to bid anonymously. Perhaps the one who purchased - purchased!! - Nude, Green Leaves and Bust - REPRESENTATIONAL TRAVESTY!!!!!!!! - perhaps that person is an Artist. like Narcissus-X. Artist, perceptive, seeing - yet trammeled by treasure, bound by bounty, trapped in the iron grip of stocks and bonds. Living for Art! Striving for Art! Suffering for Art! But to what end?
To witness the sale of some conventional cubist claptrap at an auction! Auction!! As if mere money were value - and more money meant more value! Narcissus-X rejects such meaningless measures!
A work of that Spanish spackler. Artist, yes: but whose early promise was warped by the trammeling conventions of a stultifying society. But still not without some respect for Art: burning his works, rather than selling them to buy fuel. It is to such devotion to Art that Narcissus-X aspires. Ah! The exquisite anguish of burning Art, rather than sullying its purity with mere commerce.
Artist, beware! Despite pretensions of relevance, the Guernican greenie preferred practical profit to Art's abstract anguish! Profit!! Wealth!!! Villas in the south of France!!!!
Narcissus-X REJECTS!
The insult!
The infamy!
The ignorance!
Paltry poltroons parading pompous pretensions of perception!
Moneyed meddlers: twisting Art with their travesties of cash and credit. Reducing to mere crass commercialism that which they neither understand nor can understand!
At least the buyer had the decency to bid anonymously. Perhaps the one who purchased - purchased!! - Nude, Green Leaves and Bust - REPRESENTATIONAL TRAVESTY!!!!!!!! - perhaps that person is an Artist. like Narcissus-X. Artist, perceptive, seeing - yet trammeled by treasure, bound by bounty, trapped in the iron grip of stocks and bonds. Living for Art! Striving for Art! Suffering for Art! But to what end?
To witness the sale of some conventional cubist claptrap at an auction! Auction!! As if mere money were value - and more money meant more value! Narcissus-X rejects such meaningless measures!
A work of that Spanish spackler. Artist, yes: but whose early promise was warped by the trammeling conventions of a stultifying society. But still not without some respect for Art: burning his works, rather than selling them to buy fuel. It is to such devotion to Art that Narcissus-X aspires. Ah! The exquisite anguish of burning Art, rather than sullying its purity with mere commerce.
Artist, beware! Despite pretensions of relevance, the Guernican greenie preferred practical profit to Art's abstract anguish! Profit!! Wealth!!! Villas in the south of France!!!!
Narcissus-X REJECTS!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Narcissus-X Contemplates the Nadiric Zenith
Narcissus-X contemplates the nadiric zenith of recursive revulsion.
Again and again and again the philistine purveyors of prefabricated pseudo-art, like plebeian Potiphars, throw pretentious pomposities! Casting uncultured pearls before swine, these pretenders defame Art!
Art! True Art! Narcissus-X is True Artist! Wrenching wretched realities into the dark of night! Illuminating the unilluminable as flocks of red-eyed penguins streak overhead!
Again and again and again the philistine purveyors of prefabricated pseudo-art, like plebeian Potiphars, throw pretentious pomposities! Casting uncultured pearls before swine, these pretenders defame Art!
Art! True Art! Narcissus-X is True Artist! Wrenching wretched realities into the dark of night! Illuminating the unilluminable as flocks of red-eyed penguins streak overhead!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Narcissus-X Returns From the Digital Abyss
Away, anachronistic antagonists and your archaic obsession with forms and figures!
For Narcissus-X heeds not mere philistine concerns of from whence lucre flows and where it goes. What use such trivialities to the Artist?
For Narcissus-X is Artist! Narcissus-X perceives! Ponders! Creates!
Let puerile pettifoggers of philistine intent deal with such gross matters. Let Narcissus-X perceive! Ponder! Create! For deep in the digital abyss has Narcissus-X delved: finding wonder and fanged ducks with raven wings flying across loon-lit lakes of livery stables.
For Narcissus-X heeds not mere philistine concerns of from whence lucre flows and where it goes. What use such trivialities to the Artist?
For Narcissus-X is Artist! Narcissus-X perceives! Ponders! Creates!
Let puerile pettifoggers of philistine intent deal with such gross matters. Let Narcissus-X perceive! Ponder! Create! For deep in the digital abyss has Narcissus-X delved: finding wonder and fanged ducks with raven wings flying across loon-lit lakes of livery stables.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Narcissus-X Regards a Digital Divide
Narcissus-X is accustomed to darkness, to abyssal expanses of Stygian seas beneath an obsidian sky.
Why, then, should Narcissus-X hold back? What trepidation could Narcissus-X feel? Is not experience felt by the artist, Art? Are not sensations and visions grist for the mill of the artist's mind?
Narcissus-X has danced among the toadstools of forgotten kings, glided on dark crystals across a sunless sea, beheld the Grotto of Velvet Coal.
Pythons' nest linking metal prisms, phosphorescent plane, console awaiting commands, eldritch unliving servant, too long has Narcissus-X neglected this portal to the digital abyss.
Why, then, should Narcissus-X hold back? What trepidation could Narcissus-X feel? Is not experience felt by the artist, Art? Are not sensations and visions grist for the mill of the artist's mind?
Narcissus-X has danced among the toadstools of forgotten kings, glided on dark crystals across a sunless sea, beheld the Grotto of Velvet Coal.
Pythons' nest linking metal prisms, phosphorescent plane, console awaiting commands, eldritch unliving servant, too long has Narcissus-X neglected this portal to the digital abyss.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Narcissus-X Seeks Solace in Silent Shade
Narcissus-X seeks solace in silent shade. The Grotto of Velvet Coal beckons. Narcissus-X is Artist! With Narcissus-X is the heart of Art!
Harlequin harbinger of harsh humor! Motley fool! As if assemblages of antagonistic colors attain the name "art."
Brilliant dullard! Gullible grant grantors! Dazzled by shimmer and sheen and glittering words! Knowing nothing of Art or Artist or abyss of anthracitic, aphotic emptiness.
Why must Art be shunned? Why must Artist be betrayed?
Harlequin harbinger of harsh humor! Motley fool! As if assemblages of antagonistic colors attain the name "art."
Brilliant dullard! Gullible grant grantors! Dazzled by shimmer and sheen and glittering words! Knowing nothing of Art or Artist or abyss of anthracitic, aphotic emptiness.
Why must Art be shunned? Why must Artist be betrayed?
Monday, March 8, 2010
Narcissus-X Perceives Red-Eyed Penguins
Narcissus-X rings tones of dark clarity: crystal penguins swaying in a sightless wind.
Ring, penguins, ring! Or shatter, fill the air with mocking shards to mark your demise.
Or gather.
Loon-red eyes. Red-eyed penguins ring about the artist. Ringing penguins: silent yet surrounding. Silently surrounding, sibilant syllogisms, but it takes two to tango.
Rhumba, rhumba, samba, shimmy, gyre and gimble in the wabe.
Narcissus-X rings tones of dark clarity.
Ring, penguins, ring! Or shatter, fill the air with mocking shards to mark your demise.
Or gather.
Loon-red eyes. Red-eyed penguins ring about the artist. Ringing penguins: silent yet surrounding. Silently surrounding, sibilant syllogisms, but it takes two to tango.
Rhumba, rhumba, samba, shimmy, gyre and gimble in the wabe.
Narcissus-X rings tones of dark clarity.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Narcissus-X Rides the Dark Rainbow
Narcissus-X rides the dark rainbow past a putter's green to the club house of grim contemplation. Malachite green, course of spinach hue, adjusting the grip and bending the knees slightly, to drive and drive and drive and still seek the green: ever present and ever distant.
Ectoparasitic concepts abound, skimming above the lawns and around the trunks.
An elephant lifts its trunk, but it's any portmanteau in a storm.
Narcissus-X regards the night, rides the dark rainbow through the obsidian sky.
Ectoparasitic concepts abound, skimming above the lawns and around the trunks.
An elephant lifts its trunk, but it's any portmanteau in a storm.
Narcissus-X regards the night, rides the dark rainbow through the obsidian sky.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Narcissus-X Assails the Acheronian Citidel
Narcissus-X assails the anthracitic tower: Acheronian citadel in a bituminous plane.
Plane geometry, Euclidean ideal. Lines and circles and arcs and tangents. Dark colors on darker ground.
What does Narcissus-X seek? What seeks Narcissus-X?
For within the tower is darkness, silence, the velvet quiet of ancient nights. Nights without moon, without stars, without gleaming eyes.
The tower taken, the gate sealed from within, the stair ascended, Narcissus-X gazes beyond the unseen horizon. And sees: darkness.
Or is it gleaming eyes?
Plane geometry, Euclidean ideal. Lines and circles and arcs and tangents. Dark colors on darker ground.
What does Narcissus-X seek? What seeks Narcissus-X?
For within the tower is darkness, silence, the velvet quiet of ancient nights. Nights without moon, without stars, without gleaming eyes.
The tower taken, the gate sealed from within, the stair ascended, Narcissus-X gazes beyond the unseen horizon. And sees: darkness.
Or is it gleaming eyes?
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Narcissus-X Muses on the Deeps of Narcissus-X
Narcissus-X tastes the brittle bitterness of cold type face Georgia Garamond and Swiss Script.
Away, stultifying obsessions with regimented demands of consistency! Narcissus-X is artist! Narcissus-X creates! Narcissus-X shines with umbral radiance of abyssal stars!
Tiny stars, bright stars - or are they cracks in the obsidian sky?
But no! The small minds, the microcosmic mechanicians whose vision scarcely extends beyond their bespectacled noses, do not understand. Perhaps they cannot understand.
For who can fathom the deeps of Narcissus-X, who has plunged deep into the grotto of velvet coal and sailed Stygian seas beneath the obsidian sky?
Away, stultifying obsessions with regimented demands of consistency! Narcissus-X is artist! Narcissus-X creates! Narcissus-X shines with umbral radiance of abyssal stars!
Tiny stars, bright stars - or are they cracks in the obsidian sky?
But no! The small minds, the microcosmic mechanicians whose vision scarcely extends beyond their bespectacled noses, do not understand. Perhaps they cannot understand.
For who can fathom the deeps of Narcissus-X, who has plunged deep into the grotto of velvet coal and sailed Stygian seas beneath the obsidian sky?
Monday, February 22, 2010
Narcissus-X Ponders Obsidian Chasms
Narcissus-X plummets through this endless pit of atrocities we call life, fleeing grim penguins. Terrible penguins with loon-red eyes.
Eyes, eyes! Piercing gaze, frozen glare, blinding glare of oncoming headlights!
Narcissus-X seeks the obsidian abyss. Dark, hidden, secret, known but to Narcissus-X.
Crystal penguins shatter against the walls. Ghastly shards scatter. No return. No escape. No light. No deposit, no return.
Do ghosts of crystal penguins haunt obsidian chasms?
Eyes, eyes! Piercing gaze, frozen glare, blinding glare of oncoming headlights!
Narcissus-X seeks the obsidian abyss. Dark, hidden, secret, known but to Narcissus-X.
Crystal penguins shatter against the walls. Ghastly shards scatter. No return. No escape. No light. No deposit, no return.
Do ghosts of crystal penguins haunt obsidian chasms?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Narcissus-X Rails Against Arrogant Arachnid Administrators
Arrogant arachnid administrators, weaving webs of woe!
Narcissus-X is artist, talent, mind, vision! Not for Narcissus-X the stultifying confines of rigid regimens.
Small minds, little minds, brittle minds besotted with power, whose egos inflate: pulsating with self-importance. Above such is Narcissus-X!
Narcissus-X is artist, talent, mind, vision! Not for Narcissus-X the stultifying confines of rigid regimens.
Small minds, little minds, brittle minds besotted with power, whose egos inflate: pulsating with self-importance. Above such is Narcissus-X!
Monday, February 15, 2010
Narcissus-X Ponders Crystal Penguins
Narcissus-X gazes upon the glass. Hard, cold pane: skulking behind false frozen foliage of crystal traceries.
Whence come the flowers of ice, the ferny growths of intricate pattern?
Do they grow, as if by some dark design of frozen lifelessness in the secret hours of the night?
Or are they painted by crystal penguins?
Whence come the flowers of ice, the ferny growths of intricate pattern?
Do they grow, as if by some dark design of frozen lifelessness in the secret hours of the night?
Or are they painted by crystal penguins?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Narcissus-X Contemplates the Toadstools of Forgotten Kings
Charcoal arabesques on a basaltic plain.
Dark mimicry of foliage, mockery of light.
Bawdy baubles, extravagant festoons of lifeless lace.
Still.
Silent.
Dark.
Have the grim penguins returned?
Dark mimicry of foliage, mockery of light.
Bawdy baubles, extravagant festoons of lifeless lace.
Still.
Silent.
Dark.
Have the grim penguins returned?
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Narcissus-X Ponders a Vengeful Chicken
Narcissus-X ponders: do others dream of chickens? Whole fried chickens, struggling in the suffocating plastic embrace of their packages?
Then one breaks free.
Stalking down the table, headless, yet filled with malice, the apparition seizes fork and knife. And still it advances.
Do others dream of chickens?
Then one breaks free.
Stalking down the table, headless, yet filled with malice, the apparition seizes fork and knife. And still it advances.
Do others dream of chickens?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Narcissus-X Beholds the Raven's Wing of Night
Narcissus-X views lightless brilliance, unseen coruscation, freezing facade of silent mists.
In the window, ebon abyss and dark reflection of Narcissus-X.
Snow obscured form, banished color, and was itself banished from perception as sunlight fled. Now Narcissus-X beholds only the raven's wing of night, a hollow reflection of Narcissus-X, and the sable emptiness beyond.
In the window, ebon abyss and dark reflection of Narcissus-X.
Snow obscured form, banished color, and was itself banished from perception as sunlight fled. Now Narcissus-X beholds only the raven's wing of night, a hollow reflection of Narcissus-X, and the sable emptiness beyond.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Narcissus-X Contemplates the Viscous Chartreuse Torrent
Endoplasmic travail: silent, unseen, relentless, mindless conquest met with mindless defense.
Antibodies to the left of them! Antibodies to the right of them! Into the channel of oblivion rode the six million.
Destroyed yet undeterred, more and more and more and more come: indiscernible spawn, viral horde, evanescent impression of ether in the night.
Viscous chartreuse torrent, artist's bane, worse than a night spent out in the rain.
Narcissus-X suffers for art, for Narcissus-X plays host to a horde of rhinoviruses
Antibodies to the left of them! Antibodies to the right of them! Into the channel of oblivion rode the six million.
Destroyed yet undeterred, more and more and more and more come: indiscernible spawn, viral horde, evanescent impression of ether in the night.
Viscous chartreuse torrent, artist's bane, worse than a night spent out in the rain.
Narcissus-X suffers for art, for Narcissus-X plays host to a horde of rhinoviruses
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Narcissus-X Ponders Clammy Glass, Ethereal Tones
Notes from the turning glass.
A touch releases ethereal tones.
Narcissus-X ponders.
Cold beauty.
Elegant sound.
From musical glasses to armonica to clear bowls in this dark night.
From clammy glass, ethereal tones.
A touch releases ethereal tones.
Narcissus-X ponders.
Cold beauty.
Elegant sound.
From musical glasses to armonica to clear bowls in this dark night.
From clammy glass, ethereal tones.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Narcissus-X Strides Forth
Narcissus-X strides forth.
Crystalline essence of congealed rain assails the senses of Narcissus-X.
Sunless sleekness, pale plains of perilous luster.
Narcissus-X descends to the nadir of being; becomes one with the elements, yet apart. Flowing fingers of brumal intensity penetrate the being of Narcissus-X.
Narcissus-X arises, releasing rain from rimy imprisonment.
But at what cost? The rain knows not, it cares not. And soon slinks back to the shimmering stronghold.
Crystalline essence of congealed rain assails the senses of Narcissus-X.
Sunless sleekness, pale plains of perilous luster.
Narcissus-X descends to the nadir of being; becomes one with the elements, yet apart. Flowing fingers of brumal intensity penetrate the being of Narcissus-X.
Narcissus-X arises, releasing rain from rimy imprisonment.
But at what cost? The rain knows not, it cares not. And soon slinks back to the shimmering stronghold.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Narcissus-X Regards Phosphorescent Elephants
Narcissus-X gazes. And regards with listless wonder.
In the darkness, in silence, phosphorescent elephants skate: pirouetting on delicate blades.
No sound.
No stars.
No night.
Only darkness and ice and luminescent elephants on the sharpest of skates.
Who sharpens the skates?
In the darkness, in silence, phosphorescent elephants skate: pirouetting on delicate blades.
No sound.
No stars.
No night.
Only darkness and ice and luminescent elephants on the sharpest of skates.
Who sharpens the skates?
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Narcissus-X Meditates on Epicurean Undulating Ungulates
Narcissus-X meditates on epicurean undulating ungulates: sinuous cetaceans swimming through silver seas.
Sleek sirenians, dour dugongs, derisive porpoises cackling.
Ripples under a silent moon, waveless currents in a sunless sea.
Enceladus, frozen sphere or spawn of the burning plain. Perhaps both. Did Athena's spear reach the cordons of Saturn?
No matter. For Narcissus-X turns away from the sun, faces the dark.
The ebon wall of night. Are they stars? Or tiny cracks: vaster than worlds.
Sleek sirenians, dour dugongs, derisive porpoises cackling.
Ripples under a silent moon, waveless currents in a sunless sea.
Enceladus, frozen sphere or spawn of the burning plain. Perhaps both. Did Athena's spear reach the cordons of Saturn?
No matter. For Narcissus-X turns away from the sun, faces the dark.
The ebon wall of night. Are they stars? Or tiny cracks: vaster than worlds.
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