What went so wrong with all these recent posts? Of-the-moment metaphors and references seemed a solid basis, whatever a post is in zee medium of blogger, carving Venus out of green gummy? But they became embarrassing. Maybe I should try and speak plainly. Is that preferable to nothing?
Blank contained everything. In defense of music abolition I'd mount The Case Against Melody. There were times when I crafted, ages ago, had a whole team of architects. The superstructure is only as good as its thin weak voice. But it's a determined voice, straining to raspy breakthrough, cords snapped, the will to rasp, a saxonic raspsody. They'll invent a machine that knows what I mean. It'll generate memes. Thus spake me, vocalizing my will to rasp, to rap to the people, they'll know what I mean, join the machine.
Break it, break it, and rake it in, pentatonically. My God Delusion is weak, less power than one horse, but it's backed by biology. It imagines a machine that rakes up broken data, harvests what I seeded, digital ash, grows a world in a return [eternal]. Focus can expand, then contract to the size of a bag of chips, new york cheddar. It all works somehow, somehow is the gluon. The unknown is the boson. A hit is a hit. Therefore... you do the math. Write a pop hit. Get into it. Get into the algorithm.
References: nightrain [guns 'n' roses], old macdonald had a farm, dumb [nirvana], the siamese cat song [lady and the tramp]
