The Ranter address, sprinkling prose with conversation, comedy and swearing, parodies the staid measure of the spoken sermon to escape oppressive social restraints and voice disillusionment.
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It was in 2020 when D’orjay, debuting Shit My Shaman Says: Volume I, a work Axe Pulse agnate in its anti-linear subversiveness, first came upon my newsfeed.
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The scene is all too familiar, the gestures rehearsed. It begins with the innocence of casual browsing, the wide-eyed wonder as you click and scroll, traipsing around some mildly interesting news article. Then it leers at you, inevitable and horrible.
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Moisture fills all pores. When the whole planet is immersed in tropical weather, there will be no infertile soil and diversity will flourish in every corner.
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Poems by Inky Lee.
I knew of an asian man. His body was small and he was going blind. He quit his office job and was training to become a masseur – to see with his hands while his eyes cease to see. He was a devout christian and was known to pray for many hours every day. People called him a holy man. One time, I went to his place to get a massage. After the massage, he prayed for me. As I was about to leave, he smirked and told me to never bring a black man home because that would make my mother go into a long fast.
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As part of Writing Letters to Extraterrestrials Organized by Alison Sperling 22.-24.09.2021 COVEN BERLIN will also give a talk on 24.09.21 at ICI Berlin
22. September, 17h-18:30 Starting Location: Fromet-und-Moses-Mendelssohn-Platz 10969 Berlin
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Bhajan’s sexual and emotional abuse does not stand alone, but is linked to a much larger system of abuse of power. And this system pervaded all areas of his personality, including his teachings.
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Have you ever felt like you are capable of performing miracles? Have you ever wished for widespread recognition of such a miracle? Have you been looking to connect with other miracle-makers in your local area?
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It’s the fourth century A.D. You’re a monk in the Egyptian desert, and you live in a hut not far from other monks. Every day you get up at dawn to pray, and you spend most of the rest of your day either praying or weaving baskets.
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Saint Ulrich of Zell’s day, in the year of our Lord 1518. Strasbourg. On this fine morning I walked into the market with Herr Troffea, when suddenly my feet started tapping to a rhythm I ignored. Tap tap tap.
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