Tom Bradley
My blogs
Blogs I follow
| Occupation | novelist |
|---|---|
| Links | Audio Clip |
| Introduction | LUCID DREAM When secret psychodramas of the night initiate us in their mysteries, a blindfold's tourniquetted and cinched tight to swaddle up our eyes like infant twins until they're ready to contain a glimpse of chaos that surpasses all restraint. The Lucid Dream will prematurely tease that diaper from your exoteric face. |
| Favorite movies | Tibetans taught this to their fledgling dead before enduring death-by-Mao instead. But dream yogins are just as doctrinaire as Ratzinger in his sedilla chair. And lately, when those Buddhist bardos gleam, they're reinterpreted as something screened. |
| Favorite music | Halfwitted dreams with one shut eye are dreamt, half-assed hallucinations semi-slept. When waking thoughts are not exactly bright, what makes us think they might illumine sleep? Beneath those liquid crystal molecules a glimpse of liquidated personhood's horrific light is yet available. Pure nothingness still seethes behind those screens in pre- and post-existent harmonies. Dominions, Powers and Principalities will show us their annihilating truths unless they're mashed with asininity. |
| Favorite books | The Lucid Dream is self-endorsing, trite. Do we presume to claim ourselves the right to spread our own ephemerality like acne sebum, oiling troubled waves that otherwise dream monsters up from depths? The perishable citizen, the dreck that's taken out and dumped when trashed by death, assuming the high autocratic post of Overseer General for Dreams, exerts fastidiousness upon the Realm where rot's unripe, bizarrerie the norm. The consciousness, the primate's attitude, entangled in its raveling rag of skin, a function of the gonads' shamelessness, projects its flesh dependency on thoughts that under sleep parthenogenerate. (continued on pages 186ff., footnote 169.a) |