Sapphire Silence (Poem)

On March 10, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, poems, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Image result for samarkand

Black sand shivers

Dog star glimmers

Sapphire silence

Subtle violence

The Saracens in flight

Lamps are burning

Sacred yearning

For the ending of the light

Bones are dancing turning engines

(Crystalline machinery)

Of the rite

The Saracens in flight

False so called is all this wisdom

True it never was a thing

Here beneath the ruined kingdom

Lay the bones of scarlet king

The Saracens in flight

For the aeon is upon us

At the crossroads

Of Lemuria and Kyuss

Rise o sleeprs from abodes

Join the chorus

Of the hawk-wind

Screeching cross this seabed dry

The Saracens in flight

Restored flesh

Infused with spirit

Fresh like dew

Without limit

Sands they drew

From the beginning

Set the leaning

Hour glass aright

The Saracens in flight

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TFS 31 – Pears, Beer, Bikes, and Sun

On March 9, 2020March 9, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, Humor, Social Commentary, Uncategorized, VlogLeave a comment

So I was stuck dealing with car issues yesterday. Hence, the lack of video. Today is the second day of daylight savings time and it’s kicking my ass.

So to cope I rode out to the pub on my bike and had a couple of beers.

My Russian skin should not be exposed to sun so quickly. I’m literally a red Ruski. It burns man it burns.

Anyhow…This is basically the thirty year old boozers version of an early 2000’s emo chiks livejournal.

Like ya know?

Subscribe btiches.

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Soil – A Poetic Notion

On March 8, 2020March 8, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, poems, The Fractal Journal, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Image result for oak tree at night

Death is my Religion

Death is my sacred Mother

Death is the vehicle by which my soul traverses the heavens

She is no macabre fancy

But a perfumed blossom

When I was a boy

I dreamed of a rotting woman in an upper room

She would beckon with her will

And I’d enter first the parlor

Then ascend the stair

There she lay on her sick bed

Eyes fierce

Matronly

Nurture and discipline at once

All would fade to such black terror

Such abysmall emptiness

So complete

It sucked the heart from the breast

The heart from the heart

All chambers collapsed

But then in the charnel stench of decay

A bright light glimmers

And I become a raging fire

Her stygian embrace was but soil

From which my sappling oak would spring

So I do not fear

But worship

For when I go to ground

I enter through the womb again

To return to father’s house

For the sun is spread throughout

In billion upon billion glimmers

And there I go

To hang

Till again

The ground it calls to worship

And births a nation

I the man

Have but one rite

The worship

Of the mother

Night

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TFS 30 – Quality Nutrition in the Apocalypse

On March 8, 2020March 8, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, Current Events, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology, Social Commentary, The Fractal Journal, Uncategorized, VlogLeave a comment

Panic is more dangerous than germs. I make the case for getting a few extra groceries. Worst case scenario you have a slightly fuller pantry.

No this is not a recanting of my initial observation that this virus while concerning isn’t apocalyptic.

This is a supply line problem. And boy do we have a big one. We are insanely dependent on China for goods essential to manufacturing, medicine, hell goods in general.

The United States and all nations would do well to secure as much self sufficiency as possible. Distribution of goods over wide distances is a tricky, expensive, and highly sensitive business.

Let’s not make it our primary means of sustenance!

Crazytown:

If you wanna stock up and support Tim’s channel: https://mypatriotsupply.com/pages/rs-repdig-tim-pool?rfsn=1750310.2a7b74&subid=tim.pool

Tucker on our dependance:

Some people have been critical of Tim for “shilling.” Personally, I have nothign against people offering solutions to potential problems. I think that the beans and rice package the pariot supply has is pretty affordable and a sound idea.

Though, you’d also do well to stock up on nutritionally dense canned stuff like herring, etc.

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Random Memory # 666

On March 7, 2020March 7, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, Humor, The Fractal Journal, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Image result for babushka — ne svesti DURAK

im from russia originally and my babushka told me not to whistle in doors cause it summons satan. i whistled a lot when i went through my goth phase as a teen in the early aughts.

You just don’t know Satan like I do, baba.

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TFS 29 – Spiders, Swaters, and Genes

On March 7, 2020March 7, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, Current Events, Humor, Philosophy, Politics, The Fractal Journal, Uncategorized, VlogLeave a comment

Stuff

1) Perfumed Sweaters

2) The Merits of Spiders

3) Are scientists better than laymen at assessing topics outside their areas of expertise

4) Semi Musical Prattle

5) The stigma of early 20th century eugenics keeps us from analysing genetic vulnerabilities to disease

6) 2015 was half a decade ago

Articles Discussed

https://theconversation.com/should-i-kill-spiders-in-my-home-an-entomologist-explains-why-not-to-95912

https://www.unz.com/article/its-official-chinese-scientists-find-genetic-explanation-for-coronavirus-discriminating-by-race/

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TFS 28 – Perlenbacher, Carpentry Aspirations, and the Canadian Mushroom Feind

On March 6, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, Current Events, Humor, Psychology, Social Commentary, The Fractal Journal, Uncategorized, VlogLeave a comment

I talk about the thrifty goodness of Lidl and Aldis, which are right next to each other in my town. I got this premium Lager from Lidl and it’s decent. Frankly, this whole thing is a ramble where I talk about everything from my bookcase making idea to a dude who got loaded on psilocybin and ended up chasing an Oma with a weaponized broom handle.

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The Distance Remained

On March 5, 2020 By Alex V. WeirIn Alex Weir, Stories, The Fractal Journal, UncategorizedLeave a comment

What even is poetry?

I suppose it’s for when life is too weedy and wonderful for prose.

We waited a long time there in the brambles, amidst the tobacco smoke, we talked for hours. What were we on about? It didn’t matter. Together was wonderful.

She motioned towards the middle distance. A gesture altogether fitting for our joyous apocalypse.

Read me the story in the stars. That is what her eyes whispered.

I gathered myself. Trying very hard to remember all the echoes.

The distance remained.

Bewildered I sipped some of the coffee chilling steadily with the onset of evening.

I let the cicadas drown the question.

Beyond a billion years of bones nourished the trees that swayed amidst the rose tinged sky.

The South smelled of mildewed lumber and magnolia.

Her…

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