content d'être le 223eme..bon chiffre....c'est de tt beauté

@cmcmcmcmcm @cmcmcmcmcm @cmcmcmcmcm 

Good luck playing this out


direct DL is on

cm. - glpto.wav

KIRBYONCRACK.MP3

Ambiguïté

Sucrosité

Some stuff sampled from my vinyl collection!

Accalmie : Moment de calme provisoire, après l'agitation.

Production & Cover : 2KEUS
*Escale co-produit w. Arty.GZ

L'Effet Des Inconscients

Morning Routine

#sunday

@z-u-y-a

@harmlessnoises thank u for this sample

sonar w/ z u y a

I saw a dead deer on the side of the road a while ago while I was on my way to work. I don’t drive, I refuse to do so. So I walked past her, but not before touching her, and praying for her. To me, the apokatastasis at the end of time, will not just be all human souls, but the entirety of all creation united in peace with God, I think that is what God meant. I prayed that this would come sooner.

In this 21st century, centuries since the French revolution life has been all-progress. And all progress has been autonomy. The autonomous mill, the autonomous horse, the autonomy of mind, the factory, the car and artificial intelligence. There is no progress in this world if it does not revolve around technological progress and the self. So much technological progress. Everything is datalogical, an opinion isn’t worth having if you could not measure its effects, or its subjects. There’s something reasonable about that if you’re baking a loaf of bread, but nature, folklore, the world and God do not work in such ways. Guy Shrubsole noted in his book on British rainforests that drawing squares on maps is just a useless exercise, nature does not exist to be measured, it is inconstant flux between states and inconsistencies, and you can stand in two parts of the square and expect a different kind of nature. This is true too, for folklore. One elder will tell you the same story differently from another. This is true for God, too. The French attempted to mediate this ‘problem’ with their language programs. Now they are cultureless, the once Bretan, Provencial, Occitan dialects are now curiosities, dead or dying- and its people are lost. A similar thing happened in Britain with much more blood, talk to a Scottish man, a Welsh woman or a person from Ireland in their native tongue and they might give you a lost look. All things cast away, and all people assimilated into a singularity. The people lost their language, and with it, they lost their stories.

It is however the immeasurable things that make us human. Not just dialects, or languages, but walking down to the river, and finding a brook, and at that brook sitting down on some of the mosses on the branch of a willow that has quietly drank from this stream for hundreds of years, before your grandparents were born, and their grandparents even. Touch the soil that is older than our own species with your left hand, and dip your right hand into the running, living water from which you came. What do you feel? You feel water, and soil, maybe you have a damp arse, sure- but what does your heart tell you? This world has meaning, it is mystical, it is powerful, rooted entirely in the soul, and it is entirely, and completely alive, like you and I. The enemies of the soul are not simply capitalists, or the petit-bourgouis, but any single person who wishes to replace a brook with a road, any individual in power or not that believes the solution to the crisis of Modernity is more of it. We do not need more Modernity. That is why we choke on smog in cities, and our birches have turned black in the first place. We need to return to an older way of living, the community economy- a world where our fingers are in the soil, and all the roads are trodden grass. It is a world of a home centered on the hearth, the village on God, the town and its center, where cities are abolished. We do not need infinite life, nor do we need abundance, 3D printed food or replicators on a star-ship. All we need is just the earth in its honesty, the power to feel, to sing and to raindance. There live faeries in the blackthorns and the trees are alive and will talk to you in the woods. You might not see them when you look initially, but if you close your eyes they are there, in your dreamtime. And if you love them, they will teach you everything they know. Everything you need has always been here, it is under the concrete, God made it for you. Destroy the concrete, blow up the pipelines and love your neighbour.

God Sleeps on Your Hillsides

Thank you @wavsession for this upportunity !

First place infiltrator 2 beatbattle 11/16/2025

73

anzym

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