↑ Moonshine, Raker. A Book of Gates That Wakes into Dreams. 2016. Light on retinae.
Nervous Horse Art Gallery, Visionary Art Division, Uranus.
Life Is Like a Nervous Horse: Unpredict
The world is in turmoil. The future is uncertain. In these trying times we can be thankful of periodical publications reminding us that there are some cornerstones of culture that will not falter. No matter how violently governments and corporations will attempt to drain your life force, you can still build a tiny house in the middle of the wilderness, catch fish, pick berries and grow your own vegetables. By establishing a tightly wound commune of like-minded people such tasks and their products will be effortless to divide among the group by the generous principle: »from each according to his ability, to each according to his need».
Nervous Horse has never been a political magazine. Our contributors range from anarchists to fascists and from presidents to bums. We neither embrace nor condemn any ideology, for ideologies mean nothing when overpopulation and overconsumption suffocate us to extinction, which will hopefully happen soon. It is unfortunate that our high skills in weapons and tools allow us suck the nature around us dry while sustaining our own pathetic excuse of a species even in the most unlivable of circumstances. Nothing seems to diminish us. Wars are no good. Epidemics are no good. Disasters natural or unnatural are no good. It would take a sudden mass destruction of a global scale to make a lasting difference — and again, most options would harm the rest of the nature infinitely more than they would harm us. If any of our avid readers happen to have any suggestions of a purely speculative kind, we will gladly publish them in future issues.
This issue of Nervous Horse, like the human world, is packed full of content of varying quality. We kindly recommend the reader to print out her favourites for archival purposes before we run out of electricity. Official physical releases keep getting suggested from time to time, but alas! the issues of our humble magazine are so substantial that, even if printed in black and white and stapled by hand, the mere weight would make buying one and having it shipped to one’s residence an unattainable dream for much of the key audience. Instead we recommend the authors to print out their own pieces, or perhaps type them out on a typewriter, and collect them into little booklets. These would be light enough to carry around in ample quantities on a night out and peddle to unassuming strangers — and they will make fine collector’s items when the author is dead.
The Universe Doesn’t Use Sunscreen
Death is like a bagel
It comes covered in crumbs
And tastes better with
Butter than hydrogen peroxide
Plebian Gut Chuffer
They’ll be home by fits of fuel and control.
Uphill weights can hurt a virtue that wrongful youth will finish.
Oblivious to the show but it’s really slow since videos recharged.
Barge through some snippets of to-do lists to become cysts.
ba dum tiss
The drip lifted,
tattooed to your memory.
Nothing you hold is safe,
your joy a wet dream.
More Bitter and Tired
There is nothing wrong with loving yourself
Your voice needs to be heard, if others don’t talk, their voices must not need to be heard
You should be proud that others are hearing you, after all they don’t hear eachother
Let’s come up with another drinking game
Those who cannot keep up will just laugh as you win
Because you have been training
But you worked hard for the local franchise liquor store
So you earned the free time you could spend practicing
During your job, because not many people come in there
I’m a failure, and a cliché at that
But I certainly enjoy myself
Underneath the high mountain, there is a climate where you don’t freeze to death
I’m just a bit upset, don’t worry, I won’t be talking about it
Why I’m leaving? I fail to tell you
I don’t make love
To stop the earthquakes
I don’t chew loudly
To encourage ugly youths
I don’t fire guns
To raise the dead
Incubation and the stated Nothing
various radio broadcast emerge elements
there after beheadings
of war of protect became solar year state
Chaos produced with World is clearly some first effort.
killings elsewhere thence than constant proclaimed hopeful:
the time of gay nations and things
much Paracelsus intellect arranged to legend
particularly the throbbing atoms
glowing fixed to language
instrumental partners in torture.
primitive perpetrators dead to the solar
just masked of portion to that of another body,
the DECLASSIFIED waves bring vacuum.
for years this
faithfully communicating effectiveness
bringing crooked limbs together
the Department reflect Occult blood in microcosm —
she said she was a diplomat.
The Dance of Ignorance
Icarium Aginor Duck
In the eternal dance of ignorance
The total avoidance of sence
The lack of thought an act of incompetence
The violation of trust,
The lies that flies like dust
That taste like horrible musks
Making us believe that it’s all right
What they are doing , they do for the fair fight.
With the lies they sow, incompotence grow.
Among equals they appeal
But behind doors they reel
Like scared rabbits they squeal
With no remorse they feel.
Laws are broke, trust off-spoken
Luxury they evoked, canapés they choked.
On their own pitiful schemes, the money that steams.
The line has been broken,
Broken broken broken broken
the trust is choken
choken choken choken choken
Never will it ever be again awoken
Woken woken woken woken
Building Headquarters on Political Prisons
Mr. Alp Oddnut
democracy always fails
humanism always fails
peace always fails.
dollars make wonderful negotiators
but destroying our enemies is the foundation or our power.
we are proud, rational people
we deserve talented administration.
we will be bombing the world again for national respect
and speaking of business,
currency actually exists and we will make trillions of it.
when has the establishment ever done anything?
we stand behind obligations and policy impatient and confused.
to compete with the media you need an informed audience
and let me tell you something folks
if you love television you are going to love the race war.
we want cheerleaders, not rapists
we want security, not liabilities
we want our jobs back
we want our airports back
we want our absolute nation back.
Bargain Bin Tidbits
Too exhausted for pleasantries, inevitably invading a temporary residency. Temporal shifts in floral patterns organize corporeal spasms. Editorial orgasms are sure to flourish for the malnourished at 4:20 in the morning. I admit that getting off the pot is sure as shit going to be boring. Nothing’s better than performing for the dreaming dead while they’re snoring.
The midday sun eliminates the dark of night.
It can happen either way:
Night dreams of day,
light dreams of darkness.
The sun an ignorant mass,
releasing energy to track down the darkness and set ablaze every shadow, eventually burning up all of itself.
That’s Why The Universe Has Cancer
Life is like a toaster
Full of springs and heat
Sitting on countertops waiting
For forks to be inserted.