spider spit and broken bones / Anathema

come mid jan and we'll be in the lowlands, conjuring, on a dream bill with frater jkflesh
but as I cast my eye down the bill I spy....

'a new soundtrack for Lucifer rising...'
yeah, right. and new pictures for a marriage of heaven and hell, and a disco beat for Tristan and Isolde...
I don't choose this fight. We are essentially loveable, easygoing critters... but occasionally you can propose a crime so vile and pointless, that we must, like Blake, arise from our ease and call down eternal shame hate and damnation on a musical group/entity too worthless to name, who think in their boundless entitled stupidity that it would be 'o.k.' to 'compose' a new score for that mighty filmic grimoire that is LUCIFER RISING, a don't mess with, one of a kind masterpiece that already possesses not one, but two perfect soundtracks. But really, only, ONE, by Bobby Beausoleil, a deeply spiritual artist, who is incarcerated, way beyond when he should be released. hell i'm actually typing this, everyone knows this (btw please take the time to google and grok B.B.'s fantastic art, and music (even a bandcamp presence) and support, and petition for the release he DESERVES).

Lucifer is one of those rare, possessed celluloid artworks, (others offhand: Performance, Eureka, Possession) which contain/project real magick, and whereas those others are talkies, in Lucifer it is the marriage, the way it moves (the centripetal widdershins dance, the spiral)
and it takes a special kind of offensive idiocy to actually want to mess with it.

I would like to propose an everlasting anathema upon the perpetrators of this pathetic blasphemy (why would they do it? art? godsfuck|! art! pathetic, wheedling, 'interesting' art, I am so sick of 'modern' art with it's 'questions' and arts councils and grants and committees........... and even its luminaries: banksy, 'sonic' 'youth' et al)

I know i'm insane like Jack Smith. I want to pick fights and bite the hand that feeds. But Jack was RIGHT about uncle fishhook, and he was a GIFT, and when one comes along, you wade right in, anything else is bad manners.

Now the cat and horse pictures. love under will, MB

towers open fire

sweet skunks o' mine

 Chester with the Todmorden fox

defiant right wing protester dragged away...O Nemo small!

 toy lemur from the best/worst zoo ever

 wee laird

 the kiss

 Prudence

Talismaniacal

Fifteen of these handfinished copies of our lexiconal o-puss are available on our bandcamp merch section. Also our beloved enabler, Hicham has roused us to prepare the second installment of our Nashazphone trilogy, dedicated to Baron Samedi and the werecat powers of Carrefour. That Baron who's mind is squirming like a toad on an endless desert road. Graced again by a received transmission from the brush of Ahmed Nosseir, it should appear almost to the day, a year on from the god who licks.... Our thanks again to Philip Best for shaping and publishing, and Hicham Chadly for proper encouragement. onwards....

Blues for Algol

"What sounds the depths and conjoins Will and Belief? Some inarticulate hieroglyph or sigil wrought from nascent desire and rhythmed to unbounded Ego."
A.O.S.: The Logomachy of Zos
New forger track "blues for algol" lurking on bandcamp now.
The Sufi's red wine, deep dark and inarticulate. The forgers yllustre, a chandelier shard, a lustre as used by Chales Henry Allan Bennett as a 'blasting rod'.

as ever a load of new/old garments have been subjected to our roughly ready screen printing and are in the merch section of skullflower bandcamp

and shortly, specially gilded and decorated editions of our latest blockbuster...as endorsed by Emily

Paris

Back in that most beautiful ancient sprawl that still contains springs and streams, ancient and wizened, of its old magique, Paris. Cat Cafes, evil old cheeses, and even Gary Mundy, who finally made good on a promise to wreak the old harm with us on a final number that took me back to below the railway arches in 1987 Brixton, and well beyond. Once again let us toast those Amis who have supported us in mind and soul and deed: Hicham, Philipe, Romain and J.F., and all who come to hear and inhale our incense and noise: Thank You...

Lord have Mercy On My Soul.....

How many chickens have I stole?

 one last night and the night before

 i'm going to go back, steal 10, 11 more....

(I Love the chicken baby)

A Memorable Fancy...

it is the end times. aliens have been discovered, aliens have discovered us, we have seen footage of their planet, their lifestyles, and they are really violent. they will come and eat us (and rape and generally torture and violate in non specific ways). already huge emergency euthanasia centres have been set up to gently put to sleep those made nervous by their imminent sadistic destruction. kind of like Jonestown, shaking trembling lines of numb humanity shuffles forward to receive the plastic beakers of kool aid plus.

this is necessary because Aliens are among us already, they are descending via our stairways, you can identify them by the VirtualReality headsets they must wear at all times, their Achilles heel as it were is they must stay in touch with their home planet via its facebook page at all times, or they futz into non being.

already this is being exploited, the fightback has begun, at elite academies the cats of earth are being trained to sever power lines, cut connections, rip off headsets with dazzling pirouettes and richochet leaps. trajectories are projected, parabolas arced and mapped, claws sharpened.

rules for life
1. play the red guitar
2. wear black clothes
3. watch out for falling stage props.
you'll be alright......

omg: gingers paws when he's in R.E.M.