dear Inurnet > this sequents uv wurds = proof of our existents in mulch the same weigh a timeclock Tehching Hsieh punched these dispatches we post to prolongue hour duration stave off mortality no b-ginning ± end timestamped 13 July 2015 in NY NY our dayz here #ed 49 reman (knot that we havent sed this ∀ll b4) here we ever become becoming eating beans reccounting our hour x hour expirents on dis revolting planet roosting on Riverside 6:18 AM fethers reining down frum above for 1° time this year peregrines back our rooftop them using as feeding grnd purhaps a seasunal thang like falling leaves or purhaps they got sick of the unmarked black helicopter buzzing over them nest all last week obviously the black helicopter subscribing not to the Copenhagen Interpretation of QM + terrorizing the birds + neighborhood w/ them rotors tainting if not killing that witch it sets out to document in the 1° plaze

vane terrorist heliotropes

a peregrine they attempt to «capture» faintly visible bottom right

the only pic we got w/ our shitty point+shoot swooping away to NJ w/ belly full
(got better 1s last year tho still elusive unless u have super-zoom high-def + helicopter)

> not sure wut have us to say for ourselfs sints our last confession a fortnite ago guess we havent blogged yet in July 2015 sumwhere in there July 4° but we not big on fireworks all that terrorizing uv animals in the name of wut? nationalism breeds racism if not nazism a veiled display of military prowess waste of resources polluting the skies think we took a few long walks in there nuthing like the calculated st x st peregrinations of last years Maphattan Project now that weave coverd everee street we free to meander as we pleaze nothing to proof

concrete poetree

The Bronx (from the recently re-opened High Bridge)

> been drafting A Raft Manifest applying principulls exorcised herein + also rapping up No Moon (got back book objets from the printer for any1 intrested in an ARC) check out this beautyful book trailer Julie Reverb's mate made for her using lovely song of hers:

> also starting laying out The Gotham Grammarian lurning sum granmar in the prawsess haha purhaps part uv the raison why weaved regressed here to granmarless state here caze Lutz reads this (witch he prone todo) we cd go ether way ether embrace it holeheartedly ± on the other hand rules made for braking

> sumwhere this lost fortnite to Baldimore we drove sort of scouting trip last ditch to let it sell itself on us b4 we commit to DC but dont know @ the end of the day Baltimore = crap sad really that «the greatest American city» (as they stubbornly proclaim on all the busstops) so lacking in basic ammenities + infrastruckure shd we slum it in solidarity? purhaps if alreddy we hadnt done time in Nairobi wed consider call us vain but we value having a desent plaze to run ± gym + a good cheeze selection good sushi 1x a week this time we slept @ Fells Pt (have us a strong need to sleep near H₂0 why we considerd this hood) in «Poe» room 345 (Edgar Allen most famous Baltimorean sides Waters) lets check out the waterfront running no trail really every1 running every witch way for the sake of exorcise like rats on wheels but back + forth along the slips + janky docks convoluted paths + the harbore polluted as ∀ll hell disgusting really never sceen such a disgracefull body of H₂0 in Amerika so u live on the H₂0 but stinks to high hell (specially as it particularly muggy + hot) + chock full of crap dont stop rich fat fulks from parking them yachts there why bother?

lovely Baldimore harbore (not pictured the festering ded fish)

pro-crab but anti-Calamari

troll reading material

a few of the 16,000+ vacants

> great opportunity for homeless sure plenty cheap (but in reality not so for sumthing decent + liveable or edible) cheap = cheap u pay for wut u get + even if u live sumwhere «safe» w/ comforts of home u got to get around + (sposedly) getting from pt A to pt B u have to run red lites @ nite or u get jacked + we types uv ppl dont like cars to begin if u cant walk ± bike between pt A + B wut = the pt? couldnt pay us to live there 99% committed now to DC (given the choice between 1 or the other ± whatever else in between) on the way back stopped in southern NJ to see home where our better-½ lived 1° when born near Ocean City where we stopped to stroll + play skeeball + eat disgusting food every so often do these things to remind yourself u not missing much

Ocean City NJ from a ferris wheel

> reading 300,000,000 by Blake Butler yeh we know it came out a while ago but we not around stateside lately long enuff to have sumthing shipped + the marketing blurbage on the book sort of scared us selling it as a blood-curdling crime novel not just cereal killers but a detective to boot @ least so far the 1° part seams the most heartfelt thing he written the most autobiographicull chalk full of strong languidge typickly Butler but also diffrent than anything else he written:

«I could see myself from there inside myself storming room to room in removed slo-mo, speaking in a language no longer ours or mine into the heads that floated past my face. The others of me did exactly what I wanted while I continued only sitting. I rarely suffered any pain. If I ran into a pane, it did not hurt and would not shatter unless I told it. Beyond the windows where the night curled I could see how in the sky the stars were going deaf, pocked out by something far behind them seeing. The world was full of others I could be. All the houses stacked like teeth around our lives holding the sleeping people. I needed all of them.»

> had tacos w/ Blake just last week so happend he in town far from a «mad criminal mind» in meatspace a sweet southern kid but yes sumthing about him on auto-pilot (tho far from slo-mo @ least from our purspective almost overwelming how prolifick he rites hard to keep up) fwd procession no looking back knot self-conscious ± self-editing like most rest of us unhipsters he floats along stedfast impervious to wutever obstickles he cd care less about critics gonna do wut he does relentless but quest-ion becumbs does wut he dose come naturel or n xpectation of wut udders xpeck of him even if self-imposed com saw? keep feeding the pear-dropped publick if u read all his books hardly time to write yur own must admit tho by ch 2 felt he gwine thru the moshuns ether that or we just cant relate genierully to such 3° pursin story-telling need us 1° pursin narrativ like need us to live near bodies of H₂0 (prefurrably rivers) found ourselfs similurely gwine thru the moshuns reading our eyes scanning hard to keep the thread (book thick as brick) series uv descriptif passidges good languidge direck + methodicul but couldnt latch onto an overrarching storyline but this = the hole pt becumbs a bout the languidge halve to knot think that 300,000,000 = «about» a cereal killer who kills that many peepole (ruffly the pop of US) but get lost in the wurds themselfs not wut they imply cuz of past hystery but as a cullective hole Buttlure not a righter so much as channelure as weave sed b4 a shapeshifter that wurms his weigh thru udder beans even into yur hed thru yur ear he occupies ∀ll uv us cullectifly us ∀merikins anyweigh he colonizes our hedspazes + agin 300,000,000 farther proof that Butler not 1 human butt (as sed us b4) «a colony of ant-ish cells» ± sum udder social insecks ± bird obsessively chronilicking yore ∀merikin psyckey fur those that cant think fur themselfs + for the rest of us not relating to the antisocial ∀merikin condishun a way to vicarrryus the psicko ∀merikin dream meanwhile ∀ll these other voices chime in typickly below the fold like in a blog post when u click on it to read the comments unreliable trolls + impersonators piping in to destabilize (have to think HTMLgiant had an influenze) + then of corse the detecktiv gets sucked into it a story purhaps not so novel not just in novels + film but in real life police now especially becoming the killers/terrorists they pursue ± wurse anyhow only ½-way thru mite have more to say next post

> wut else? eating lots of oysters + sad about James Tate + oh btw our new backdrop comes courtesy of Maurizio Cattelan reflecting ± forever reminding us of our overarching theme here on 5¢ense really we trying to find a shot of Krishna holding the reins of 5 white horses (a scene from the Mahabarata) insted haha we headless horses like ostriches sticking our heads in not ground but glory holes better as goats ± wolves (or better yet wolves taxidermied from sheep parts ala Cai Guo-Qiang) + we fucked cuz not only cant we knot spell + use us languidge purseived as spam but evidently this site not = «mobile-friendly» so we penullized by google so now no 1 ever will find this page why u reading on a mobile device anyway? yur phone smart but u dumb moss peregrination yesturday this tempo down to bklyn to walk the waterfront lament on how much everything has changed for the wurse new condos sprouting everywhere saw sum whiskey distillery in the Navy Yard then puk-puk thai

view from our elevated subway stop

a rare site empty row

Kings Country distillery + field corn demonstration

aging whiskey + burbun

fermenting sour mash