Thursday, May 22, 2014

Transmissions from Submarine #14 fourth transmission.

There are very few of us left

Cities of the future start today in the cloud.
And the happiest country in the world is…

The stereo bled black ooze. The cell phones beeped nonstop. She moved through the remixes tasting the beats and rhymes. The wall shimmered as she walked through. Only four feet tall but seemingly the only thing in the world.  The staggerlee shanty youth walked up to her, their souls amphetamine scarred, computer poisons in their hearts. She would walk through this shanty land like it was a puddle; she could pull the drug squad helicopter from the air with one hand.
Cellphones shut down for miles around, their owners can’t stop the shrill chirping that erupts from them. Radio only blared her song, people danced the piss your pants in the middle of the street. Graffiti began to cover car windows . . . barricades of burning towers blocked the passageways into the shanty town.

Even though many people know what we suffer, no defends us or does anything to protect us, therefore, I am an instrument to avenge several women who appear weak, but in reality we are brave.
-Diana la Cazadora de Choferes

Man arrested for threating Boehner
bell hooks calls Beyonce a terrorist.

“Let's face it. We're undone by each other. And if we're not, we're missing something.”
-Judith Butler

Many articles were written on the winning of the Egyptian revolution with the help of Twitter, Facebook, and other social media. Very few articles were written on the winning of the counter revolution with tanks and guns.

Slavery joke creates some controversy
15 celebrities you want as your girlfriend.

…the film made me go a little crazy and I had a breakdown” –Maria Schneider on Last Tango in Paris.

Pindle ran his fingers down the neck of the banjo. He practiced some runs, and then stopped to listen to mother.
Play the song from the tape?
Which tape mother?
Dance of death, not best of the Ventures.
John Fahey? I will try again, as I always try mother.
Mother was leaned against the wall of the roofless building. The bloody bandage wrapped around her eyes. A smile grew on her lips as he worked through the song.
What was this place mother, back in the days?
It was called a Panda Express. It was an eating hall.
When will we eat again Mother?
Soon child, I feel it.

How fake celebrity porn saved a man from suicide.
Texas police shoots woman, 93
Jordan: 'I was against all white people.'

The translated name of practice of foot binding that existed in China until the early 20th century was “the three-inch golden lilies”. The foot and its binding clothes were covered in an embroidered shoe. The foot underneath the shoe was commonly coated in rotting flesh.

No force will be able to contain the torrent of fatal vengeance. We will have to sing a new Marseillaise which, like the trumpets of Jericho, will bring down the dwellings of the wicked…the heavens will see with fearful joy, amid the thunder of the redemptive catastrophe, the castigation of arrogant evildoers, the supreme and terrible vengeance of drunken poverty.
-Ruben Dario

He cleans the machine rifle in the ruined church. Some decayed saint observed him as he ran through the motions. A thin stick of smoke from the city. He had crawled through the sewer for days, his eyes pulling back from the sunlight leaking through the roof. The actions done, he looks through his satchel and finds it damp and empty. Food jumps the priority list.
Havel remembered Raf being sucked under the sludge tide. That grinding fortress train the Aleman had brought through the town had dropped depth charges into the sewer. He guessed backed up toilets weren’t much of a concern when they had torched whole neighborhoods. Raf’s screams could still be heard ringing in his ears. Julo and the others may have made it; there was just darkness and stench from that time on.
Butterflies fluttered in their own curious patterns over the grass of the yard. The light tortured his eyes. He rested and let the grass poke through the holes in his pants. He remembered the tea in the living room with Marta and Raf. He remembered the warmth of it and the chipped china. The phone rang and rang and he knew the uprising was going to begin. He knew everything would start if he answered that phone.

They were brothers. These men from a rough desert tribe. Ida was good at faces and she saw this in them. The desert at night was cold and barren. They had felt its presence all day in the darkness of the truck. A hungry heat grinding at them. Now they moved on their feet in the cold of the desert night. The t-shirt, sweat pants that Ida had received did nothing to stop the chill. Putting foot after foot across the land were her only thoughts except for the brother’s faces. She remembered every face on this journey, everyone that fed, clothed, administered injections to her, and had kept her moving but always captive. She remembered the faces of the woman who had sat with her in dark rooms and vehicles, and had walked through the wilds with her. She had been kept dope sick, hungry, and without documents so this cataloguing was her only remaining power. They could hear the cries of the two they had just left behind. Too sick to walk, so one of the brothers had shot them in the knees and left them. Ida remembered their faces as their voices became fainter. She and the other woman did not look back but walked. They crossed desert under fat bundles of stars towards Israel. The name of this land was all she had picked up from the brother’s language.

If you buy a Florida tomato you are buying the product of slave labor.
The Australian government has warned tourists to avoid the protest camps
Jennifer Lawrence stares into your soul…
Moon occults Saturn…

He had seen the president around. Of course it couldn’t actually be the president. But a man with that same mournful expression that had flashed across hundreds of screens, sitting in a parked car early morning in the parking lot devoid of any other traffic, or on that park bench alone with clustered pigeons. The government had moved to Glen Falls and kept trying odd outreach programs, maybe having clones of the president lingering in lonely tableaus was a plan to evoke empathy.
The coffee filter. He got another note about the coffee filter. He changed it every time he made coffee in the break room. They had some odd stereotype of the janitor reusing old grounds; they just didn’t realize the coffee tasted that bad. It wasn’t really even coffee any more.
Whole sections of town were covered in moss and reckless sprouting trees. The plague zones that were being blamed on the Eden Initiative. It was claimed that they had first appeared here in Eugene with their plans to reset the clock on civilization. He found a tree sprouting in the middle of a classroom during his rounds. He knew red speckled flesh and vomiting would occur in a couple hours. He would do the right thing and call this in and seal himself in the building, but here he was still feeling burned up about the coffee filter note.
As he locked the door to prepare for the quarantine, he saw out there in the street was the president searching for something he had lost in the gutter, out there in the world that the big set of keys on his belt would seal away.

Love is not a state, a feeling, a disposition, but an exchange, uneven, fraught with history, with ghosts, with longings that are more or less legible to those who try to see one another with their own faulty vision.”
-Judith Butler

Woman films her own abortion
Movie director takes in murderer

Ursi had been traveling in space a long time. She felt its rattle in every one of her bones. Back on earth her suit felt heavy, the gases venting from it made the air around her feel rubbery. She flipped through the photos of her children from the age she remembered them. They were later pictures but she never knew those people, she never who Rani and Rulio were when they chose suicide. Her entire family had vanished while she was in space. Her abuela was all that remain. Ursi had seen her moving around corners just ahead of her all over the complex.
She heard the guns of the gangs firing from the barricades in front of the complex as she let the wheezing suit sit her in the kitchen. There was only crumbled bread available to eat. It turned to dust and then got gummy with the nut paste.  She wondered if her abuela would venture into the kitchen as she rested here, probably not. A vent of gas from the suit stained the wall black.
Ursi had an appointment with the welfare office in the morning. She had decided to remove the suit, see if she could survive in the gravity well. She had doubts that she would ever being employable again, but she could never return to space.

See tornado rip through playground
South Sudan is one of ten countries that might have a mass slaughter this year. Read the whole list.

Strangely enough, they have a mind to till the soil, and the love of possessions is a sickness in them
Sitting Bull

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