As the millennia roll by, the stars misalign with Earth bound trackers. Once off a cosmic track how to re-master a collaborative calibration with the nebulas nebula of celestial Derelict Theory Objects?

Tools of the STT ways have included time zone spells, chaos laden Thaumatropes, and tissue like tin ears. The fleshy minds of humanoids require gaudier acts , dis-masses of matter, and carefully plopped pieces.

As one such flashy dancer moves on from 360 or so moon cycles of a firm watch kept, its now high time to recognize an appliance in that hallow houses of Earth so touched by Min-entropic Migration that even the hairiest among you can blend in. Provenancelly forged in the year of MTV, AIDS, and STS-1, Eye of Orion discover by Manuel Izquierdo is a little know player in countering precession wobble.  For many millennials 30 years is older than dirt, and yes Elizabeth Jordan Carr will blow out 30 candles this December, yet the desire to set the spin straight has long deep roots

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Deep being the optimal word here. As deep as it gets, deep into the Hollow Earth where the work is done to reset the North to the South in an not unrelated to Reconstructionist ways.  Not that we would mind.  When your up is suddenly down no paper cut proof skin will help you find your things. Temporary Autonomous Clones will move into your post-pirated IDs, while you wallow in an obsolucidity fueled pseudo Obliteratarium.

Eye of Orion is but one of the tools to set the stars straight.  And though PAM is far off from Giza as the bird flies, the astral path or center cut road will get you there faster than a shooting star. Many prominent star gazer have known this.  Why else would the placement of Eye of Orion be in lockstep with its constellation counterpart? And next to a Masonic temple…

Lord Quag and Weird-Fiction, Fresh for 2011! You Suckers!

French fried theory objects, Derridean Doloreans for traveling back in time, held back in time, deferred, derailed, delayed out across varied scapes by knob-twiddling tyrants controlling the cosmically indifferent decks.

Abmodernist impulses and post-mortemist petrifications of one or several giants. I travel through time with my video deck, I travel alongside time with a Wobulator, I plunge the implied z-axes of videospace with a Jones Colorizer…or so goes the techno-mantra of yore.

A lone cello tunes itself astray, no one seems to notice. Such an anomalous occurrence is a benefit to few, safe for backwards cast conceptions of mis-remembered futures. Sunrise, Florida, once renowned hotspot for obliterati is emptied out with a few befuddled keystrokes. A ghosted town, of transparent townies, you can catch a whiff of the Wendigo, with whom displaced obliterati may temporarily shack up.

Mental dust plasma is purported to have compromised audiospheric densities in this documentation of recent emanations from the (((WFT))) hypocentre.

A trivial concern. Representational value nonetheless persists: this psychedelic platform works “to basically vample the world,” according to an eye-witness.

In other words, to have kinesthetic sensibilities quiver, or to take action as subterfuge, or this and that response as vamplers come in from the cold and while robed renegades romp in their stead.

Vampler tales typically contain a [vampler] who represents either humanity as a worm hole or another inspid social structure. Supporting characters are personifications of asapien intelligence. An alignment of characters provides the audience with self-organizing intensities. Destroying of worlds, casting of shadows, feedback loops lingering in the nooks and crannies of this and other scotologically repellent productions

In efforts to build momentum around the recent (((WFT))) initiatives to develop an “Artificial Empathy” machine, a relic representing some “SAGE” advice on antecedent tech has surfaced from out of videospheric depths. Omen deprived apocalypticists will wonder how they ever missed out on the messages this media artifact deployed early into the new millenium.

Even amidst a faded parochial city scape, forest-dwelling robots, clever machines, misunderstood mechanical men and ramifications there-of —much flies in the face of “Artificial Apathy,” a claim ready at hand by some!

Of Artifical Empathy, consider the claim by an eyewitness in the above survey who claims that “Bill Clinton is a Robot.” Empathy is Bill Clinton’s greatest political asset, reports Psychology Today in 2008. Case closed.

The Metaphortean Researcher recently published this uproariously obsolete opining of situations long gone from the forefront of near future network culture. Weird Factions be damned if they orchestrate only knucle-headed nodes that have long been trending towards the last!

Can we sincerely imagine that #Barnacles are happening hashtags in the social media milieu of a Whelks Lodge?  Irony roll over and realize that rather be it future affluence that is found floundering atemporally, clamoring for exclusivity.  Orbital debris in the noosphere, tomorrow’s jet set and so many other de-activated socialites. De-orbited long ago but forwardly auto-piloting and mistaken as flotsam microhabitats in a cyberdelic vortex not unlike that northern Pacific Gyre.

A most mischief prone model of obliteratarium, here demonstrated in the obscure Mogul flight four routine.  Generally speaking, that which is pictured above,  occurs when at some stage in the development of infrastructure, certain ideas become so accepted and common-use that their contributors are no longer incited. Eventually, its source and creator are forgotten (“obliterated”) as the concept enters common knowledge (is “incorporated”).  At the level of visual resonance, it is questionable as to whether mogul flight 4 has found resonant frequency beyond a bevvy of airminded esoterica, but nonetheless, here we are. Hexagonal impossibilities be damned

This Call is heard, the Mind Children heed This Call.