MADE FOR YOU AND ME 3: hive Being (Stanzas 2018--part 4)
scent of the day: Nephrite Elixir, by Amphora Exotica
A rooty-mineralic fougere with strong impressions of lime and pine and chocolatey musk. Lime is very pronounced at first. That lime pine brings it into contact right away with various fragrances (all of which seem to perform better): Savitri, Chype Siam, Forbidden flower, Siberian Musk, and even 1805 Tonnerre and Isfarkand Elixir. What is unique about Nefrite Elixer, though, is that—especially because of the green frankinscence and the siberian musk—it comes off like a lime-pine Necco Wafer, those chalky disc candies.
The impression is of being in a pine forest as dawn evaporates the night mist. The nephite stone color represents it well. Muskier than you think. I disturbed the spot on my arm with my shirt by accident and it unlocked a lot of musk. Mildewed roots are in here too, and with a medicinal touch—a function of orris, mushroom, moss, and holy basil. Very much in between a Pineward fragrance and Spell 125 by Papillon.
Unlike the amazing and characterful Spell 125, this seems to collapse in on itself—yes, even in spite of seeming to take (on paper at least) Spell 125 into Siberian Musk territory. Everything is very dialed back. Perhaps it seems that way because of the overload of pine sap. That maybe was better on paper than in practice because not only is it very sticky but that stickiness itself might indicate that the aroma molecules are being trapped in thick resins instead of being projected out. If one or two things (urinous civet and seminal linden blossom perhaps, but what do I know?) it would seem to have more oomph. I would have liked to see what Prin might have dong with this, even if just via adding in some of his aldehydes. I might be somewhat blind, however, to piney fragrances. Or maybe it is in their nature to be muted. Who knows? I do know that I must wait a few months before making up my mind about this one.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 3: hive Being (Stanzas 2018—part 2)
“you know I woulda raped that pussy if you aint give it me, right? That asshole too.”
lottery tickets, just hoping the weekend will get here for mind-numbing sitcoms
kicking that rock habit for sanctioned Red Bull in sleep-tight conscience
not bothering to close the door as you follow the gurney to the ambulance curbside
the appeal of being unclear is that unclear arguments are not so clearly unsuccessful
in a coffee shop, pretending to be reading
a cat pawing and flipping into the air its hobbled prey, wanting the hunt to go on
how could have sleep withstood so many liberties with her?
penitentiary pipe had her hooked
if a stud oohing to the blowjob of her strap-on is mental illness, the blind caning around everywhere in public is outright insanity
we have become so anti-philosophy that people say “if you agree with any damn thing she has ever said you’re a white supremacist” (or transphobe or so on)
things can matter to machines sophisticated enough; machines can give a damn (like us)
if it is so tempting to toss the wedding ring in the bushes come drama, what might happen now that there is a handgun in the house?
would you be one to care for your late spouse’s lover, were that lover sick and without anyone else?
calorically taxing as it is to ponder, no wonder religion— provider of meaning and coherence—called to us while still in trees: the come-hither hooks of a Kubrik monolith
a land where literacy and numeracy are considered evil expressions of whiteness
a land of criminalizing comedy
a land of cancel-culture whisper networks
a land where it all seems written by the same person, any piece veering deemed bad
a land where the hungrier the judge the less likely he is to grant parole
a land where you have to like someone to learn from him
a land where the term “Oriental” is taboo but “Western” is not
a land where the “b” in “black” must be capitalized, but never the “w” in “white”
a land where trauma must be time-stamped, notarized, before even poets can speak it
a land where we fetishize the primitive—indigenous cosmology on a par with physics
a land where all kindness is seen as an agenda (as it often is)
a land where black shooters are “possibly white" (newspeople fingers crossed)
a land where only gay actors can play gay roles
a land where “subpar” gets autocorrected as “Subaru”
a land where drag queens are mandatory in any good elementary school
a land where the standard is racist if blacks have a statistically harder time reaching it
a land where the perfumer, director, musician to get is the one with most IG followers
a land where a story means a lie
a land born from a land that thought Jeopardy was a measure of intelligence
a land where testicular injuries among female athletes rise each day
a land where feeling offended makes you right, unless you are the wrong color: white
a land where rightness is determined by the number of victim boxes checked
a land where people regard merely certain desires as impermissible
a land where one joke could end even a jokester career
a land where opposing Islam, even its bigoted sides (faggot roof tossing), spells bigotry
a land where choking a black, even one making knife threats, spells white supremacy
a land where feelings are surefire guides to truths (even of biology, math, and beyond)
a land where being authentic is just being another persona
a land where Beyoncé and Sister Souljah surpass Beethoven and Shakespeare
a land where a book, at least one written while white, is not allowed to sail to far lands
a land where genital preference in a mate will soon be transphobic
a land where free speech is allowed unless it disrespects a sanctioned victim’s identity
a land where the therapist must report you if you have pedophilic fantasies
a land where even adults leverage power primarily by playing the victim
a land of typing on phones with more than one finger
a land where we remove the study rather than the customer-students it unnerves
a land where it is so virtuous to be a victim that the least dense victimize themselves
a land of the brave but where the people are the most cowardly
a land of citizen arrest run amok to the point of reporting words
a land of lack of commitment to commitment
a land of criticizing it without ever having read or heard it
a land of people starting to crack, afraid too long to say what they think
a land of using the great power that comes from seeming like a victim to bully others
a land where tenure in a university is no match for mere accusation from its customers
a land where victimization is a sacred mark of one’s individuality
a land where we expect science (but not music) to produce better tech if worthwhile
a land where we now protect gender stereotypes in our war against gender, even sex
a land where Boy George, in fighting gender norms, is the Uncle Tom of queerkind
a land where “unidentified” means “extraterrestrial”
a land where incest is rape
dope-sick mothers renting out the vicious suckling of their newborns— “just the fuckin mouth”—to drug-dealer testicles
found guilty of a hate crime, stomping black out with a stock “Bitch-ass nigga” before liberal aliens to the block
those who, before going to war, do not fuck like they are going to war are not ready to go to war
old friends so far apart now and yet who naturally talk more about now than then
meditation prescribed to cure being excessively zoned out in mindless habitual behavior
your desire to support her does eclipse your desire to fuck her, but the proximity that comes with support has you fuck her
those friends who lack the common courtesy even to do what the rest do: keep their wish to watch you fail buried in the subconscious
titillated by the subtlest clues of masculinity even regarded in abstraction from the whole: jaw muscle flexion, hair trailing up the wrist
if you cannot criminalize a certain group (blacks), have people link that group with a practice (crack use) and then excessively criminalize that practice
