MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 78)
scent of the day: Jubilation XXV, by Amouage
A sunny-holy-incense Juicy Fruit gum scent in a bitter-menthol envelop. There is a fermented quality to fruits. tobacco black currant sibling of dia man—it even has, although not as prominently as what we get in Dia Man, an unlisted vetiver note. just as portrayal man and imitation man together form the Bohemian duo, Dia Man and Jubilation Man form the gentleman soft spoken duo. If perfumes are like cats (which they are in the sense that they do not operate on your terms and the more you force them close the more they recede), then Jubilation Man is one of the most avoidant—operating on its own terms: the aroma itself is inviting but it is a benchmark for a standoffish cat (one that will comes to you, like Dia Man, if you are patient with it and do not keep nose diving).
This used to be nearly perfect for me. What prevented it then was that it was a tad too juicy fruit and underdone on the oudy and animalic department—Ensar creations, which is are in this elegant vein, show that you can get away with more oud and animalics without sacrificing elegance. What now prevents this from being perhaps even in my top 100 is its strong super-amber component of nose-blinding aromachemicals, which I can pick up easily now just smellign from the cap. I prefer now Dia Man, which gives a lovely Southeast-Asian flare to my mind. And I one-thousand percent prefer Jubilation 25 Woman, which gives me that cumin-bedoir funk I crave.
Jubilation XXV has long been king of Amouage, considered one of the top scents of all time (according to frag-head community): the John Paul Jones to Reflection Man’s Robert Plant, we might say. regal sultry scent, an opulent masterpiece of sour blackberry middle-eastern resin. It was pretty much a love at first sniff, one of my few since Ombre Leather—only I still am really intrigued by Ombre Leather whereas Jubilation has fell off.
One negative people cite is performance issue, which I have seen stated since 2007 (the very date of its release) and which has gotten even more repeated after reformulation. That most likely is a function of nose blindness to it. For (1) it has a high dose of galaxolide and iso-e-super (chemicals many struggle to smell) and I suspect even more sinister nose-nuking synthetics as well. (2) Its aroma is so captivating that people huff their wrist for more. While it is not a mega projector, I do not notice performance issue after more experience with it. probably could benefit from oxidation given the natural oils in there. But one should not put much stock in this. The issue is almost always on the user side rather than on the perfume side—even freshies do not die after an hour, despite how people talk.
This is a chameleon scent that develops over time, but always into something timeless. the dry down scent, an addictive Juicy-Fruit-reminiscent sweet muskiness close to the skin, definitely leaves you wanting more (and perhaps that is one element in many people’s claim that this scent underperforms). I could only imagine what an Ensar-Private-Blend musk-trifecta version of this would be, the superambers at the base swapped for wild oud.
Some call it dark and, while I do get a meditative vibe, it is more like meditative in the sun. Ccould have an old-school vibe (notes you might have picked up on your grandmother in the 80s, but not dated). All year round like Montaboco, but it does not touch the glory of Montabaco (a scent that has stayed in my top five even throuygh all sorts of artisinal rabbit holes). It does have excellent longevity I can testify to, but the scent bubble is intimate.
After many wears as a bottle owner I can say that this scent plays tricks: while it might be weaker after reformulation (I cannot say), it is a powerhouse that is simply easy to go noseblind to. The besdt advice is don’t chase the aroma with nose dives. Let it find you. It will find you. And you will also notice, if you give nose-diving a break, that it lasts for ten-plus hours. I smelled it on me in the back of a police car hours later after I had attacked someone trying to rob my house—yes, I was put in the police car because of my oppressor optics.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017—part 78)
down syndrome tits
pilfering the ears from another kid’s Mr. Potato Head
imagine a being, one being, with discrete centers of self-consciousness
build your identity around something with a shelf life less than your own life— that best prepares you for death
atheist gardeners ever on their knees in poses of prayer, feeling their place in the constancy of bloom and decay
genius misconstrued as an effortless gift at least shuts down our urge to compete, allowing us simply to enjoy the creations
truth claims can be of value even with no grounding, just as money can
received views baptized to help the baptizing institution stay alive
he makes fun of people who wear Louis Vuitton and other designer apparel even though he wears—flaunts—“busy"
a virus is a Kubrick monolith: using the resources of its host, reproducing, and then flying off to another, it nudges us— especially after having learned of its existence—to leave Earth
a being all-knowing should not just know the truth-values of all statements, but also know all qualia (her fear) and how to do all things (ride a bike)
an ego shaky due to its awareness of being semi-literate
only a devil would like those who believe in him for fear of torture otherwise
a million crazy dreams, but yes— you must be clairvoyant when what you saw happens the next day
mixtapes from the local dj at the corner gas station
is the corpse more or less him than the collage of memories retained in the surrounding criers?
anyone who cannot get enough of songs from youth, hollow as they now appear, can understand the pull of family religion
to strive for truth at all costs is to value truth over all else (including life)—but why not value something else more (such as life)?
his life continued even though his story seemed to have come to an end
having the body exhumed only to gaze upon it one last time
Sunday church for food
is it easier to blow your brains out or to reinvent yourself?
you cling while dying to the memory, unclear at first: your mother’s voice promising ice cream once you get well
the “god” worthy of living in absolute fear of, the “god” that dating-site blacks have in mind when they claim to be “God-fearing,” is a good candidate for Satan in disguise
