Tag: marcus brown

9 Nourished by Time: The Passionate Ones

~ Lex Leeson ~ Leave a comment

May they multiply you
May the river guide you
You won’t always be here
To be tricked and lied to
May you always have a fight
Be it wrong or be it right
Shed a raindrop when you cry
But beware of sedatives and passing time

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Namy-namy-namy-namy-namy-namy-namy-namy-namy-namy-way we go! Yeah, I’ve got no idea what that sped up voice is saying. But I love it.

Oh, and this whole “May you always have a fight/Be it wrong or be it right”? Listen, I get it, that whole “If You Don’t Stand for Something, You’ll Fall for Anything” job? Yeah, all good. Only, don’t stand up for wrong things, yeah? I get where you’re coming from, and that not believing in anything just means you’ll allow yourself to be just swept up by the majority. And if you believe in the right things, we’d love to have you! But if you believe in the wrong thing, then maybe just pipe down and get on with your life, we’ve got this. And don’t “Fine people on both sides” me with this – there are people whose beliefs are literally scientific; there are people (the fascists) who always support capital because they’ve been told God wants them to; and then there’s people (the social fascists) who also support capital because they saw it on the fucking West Wing: Fight for what’s right, yeah?

“Beware of sedatives”? Well… I mean… what sedatives are we talking about, exactly…

If my heart should burst or break, it was overdue

39 Nourished by Time: Erotic Probiotics 2

~ Lex Leeson ~ 3 Comments

Once or twice I prayed to Jesus

Never heard a word back in plain English

More like signs or advertisements

Telling me to be keep consumerising

The Fields

Firstly: No, I’m pretty sure ‘consumerising’ isn’t a real word

Secondly: capitalism really won’t leave anything alone, will it? Won’t let anything just exist if it isn’t somehow commodified. And maybe I’m only really able to remark on this because no fucker reads this blog, it doesn’t make me any money at all, so I’m not even reaping the benefits of my own commodity. I’m instead producing excessive amounts on Content™ for WordPress and then sharing it on X (formally known as ‘X formally known as Twitter’) so it can be a small piece of those companies’ endless churn of millisecond flashes of dopamine hits. And then the lines of code scrolling past people’s eyes on the screen are commodified and sold to advertisers as proof of ‘engagement’. But only after these people have logged into the site using their name, address, phone number, bra size and blood type, ensuring that their very existence as a statistic can be commodified and sold to people who need to know the exact sample size of people worth advertising their new bracelet that’s designed to work well with a AB RhD positive blood type, as it cascades across it from a slice made on the wrist. It’s fucked up, is what I’m saying.

I MET HIM AT THE BAR, IT WAS 12 OR SOMETHIN’