\\ divisible dreams

integer at www.god-emil.dk integer at www.god-emil.dk
Wed May 21 21:25:38 CEST 2003



/55\\\ s h a m e 


rene beekman 

>From: integer at www.god-emil.dk
>> i have given rene beekman gifts.
>
>are you referring to 242.parazit that was supposed to load the plugins 
>from a particular competing product but which in reality didn't really 
>work that well 

your comrade jeremy bernstein thought otherwise



>and i ended up debugging for you???

the email archive will undoubtedly
contain a thank you followed by your name
from me to you.



>(we have email archives)

why we
you 

you're tall enough




>> gifts were also transmitted to every nato.0+55 operator.
>
>yes, that same one - 242.parazit


in addition to 242.parazit




>> now i watch in disbelief as rene beekman's korporate.whore lips extend 
>> his neo.imperialistic views of the world.
>> singing the refrain cycling74 taught him + the cement."users" nation 
>> about nato.0+55
>
>ach, the flattery....
>would almost think you want something from me....

to decorate the corridors with your beauty




>>> Or does it mean not permitting all?
>>
>> it does not mean i am not granting permission.
>> it means one must _ask permission prior.
>
>it means 'she' wants your life to be...

beautiful



>> ... ruled by fear _ as most boys.
>> girls prefer
>...

to live + be lived



>unless of course you say things like this
>then you end up being a qualified 'korporate.whore'

jeremy bernstein - he [as recall speaking of you] came by on friday night
                   and sat in at our weekly performance at subtonic. 
                   it's a nice community you've birthed.
                 - YOU NEVER LET ME HAVE MY WAY !! AAAAAAA
                   the he went his way

joshua clayton - i am drowning in benadryl due to you
then he went his way

kurt went his way

zicarelli went his way

joshua goldberg and you are still here with me
but you will go your way too ... life does that




>> i am free
>
>the old recipe:

i grow old quickly.
at least 15 years before zicarelli.


>tell yourself every morning
>you'll convince yourself eventually

life does that


>then you end up being a qualified 'korporate.whore'

                          /

i have told you -  you _have `won`  
there isn't any one for you to complain to anymore _____.... 
bye bye +?


nn - free


















00   She's a capitalist who screams anti-capitalism, an artist who infuriates artists, 
     a Net phenomenon who terrorizes her medium. 

     And if I were to portray her as a cruel character assassin who slanders anyone 
     who disagrees with her publicly -- the great terror of the Net! -- so much the better.



    


     Finished Katharine +?
     Good. You do not know NN
     for, likewise, I do not know. 

    "As she puts it, in e-mail: `Being ambiguous, we are deemed confused, 
     rather than praised for the complexity of the order in our minds.`" 


     trying - for 01 very very good reason.
     ... here, somewhere 




"It is just the same with mothers. When they have borne their
children and given them their milk and beauty and strength, 
they themselves become invisible, and no one asks about them any more."

"But that is sad," I said, without really thinking very much about it.

"I do not think it is sadder than all other things," said Leo. "Perhaps
it is sad and yet also beautiful. The law ordains that it shall be so."

"The law?" I asked curiously. "What law is that, Leo?"

"The law of service. He who wishes to live long must serve, but he
who wishes to rule does not live long."

"Then why do so many strive to rule?"

"Because they do not understand. There are few who are born to be masters;
they remain happy and healthy. But all the others who have only
become masters through endeavor, end in nothing."

"In what nothing, Leo?"

"For example, in the sanitoria."

I understood little about it and yet the words remained
in my memory and left me with a feeling that this Leo knew all kinds of things,
that he perhaps knew more than us, who were ostensibly his masters.





http://www.m9ndfukc.org/data/noisz/duet.mp2


My soul warps the fragments of my desire into an image of you. A shadow of liquids, I 
wrap myself around you and slowly disappear, as your heat evaporates my fluidity. 
Instead of an abundant stream, I remain visible only as sweat drops covering your 
translucent skin, but I exist as the raising vapor, the unity of your heat and my 
transcendence. Leaving the layer of condensed steam on every surface in this desolate 
city. Flooding the deserts around. I drink your sweat, becoming fluid again, gliding 
over your rhythms, envelop you in shadows and humidity. Underneath the sweat, your shapeless 
body is carved with your knowledge, and I become your humble pupil, absorbing the symbols 
of your world through every touch. Kissing the words, remembering your thoughts in my streams
... rushing away to be your voice, singing your world as 
I crush the stones under my waters.



more elegantly stated than I `know`




misterious enkounters

in divisible

ultra lekker + phosphorescent 



d                  d          d         
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d                  d         d. u u a s
d                  d         d. u u . m      
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    e                  e  e          a  
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        m s . u u . s m    m s   r      
        m s . u u . s m    m s d        
      a                 aa     d        
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d                  d          d. u u a s
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nn. theatr!kl geztur + tranzf!n!t zttz.








 
                                           pre.konssept!n  
                                                 meeTz ver!f1kat!n.     
 
 
 



 -
 
 Netochka Nezvanova   - bodies made for souls. you never actually own one - you just take care of it

                                        4  dze  n e k s t  generazie.  da + da. 
 
                           01 4rm ov lv+ at 01 d!stansz. 

                                                               tous les matins du monde.  01 zelebrazie

                               
                                                    ov - lf+



 f3.MASCHIN3NKUNST 
 @www.eusocial.com
 17.hzV.tRL.478
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