It was prob­a­bly about a year ago that I went to a scry­ing work­shop and a few div­ina­tion club meet­ings and felt wild­ly out of place. I would­n’t say that I’m good at impro­vi­sa­tion, but I do have a facil­i­ty with lat­er­al think­ing and oblique approach­es to things. I use the word oblique to asso­ciate this process with Bri­an Eno’s Oblique Strate­gies. I come out of left field with inten­si­ty. This facil­i­ty is what helps me write impro­vi­sa­tion­al poet­ry, and unset­tle peo­ple when I read tarot for them.

I think I seize upon inter­pre­ta­tion in a unique way, so when I was scry­ing or par­tic­i­pat­ing in the div­ina­to­ry meth­ods, the firm­ness, resolve, and cer­tain­ty of what I see/interpret is with­out ques­tion, while my con­clu­sions that derive from this process are nev­er cer­tain.

This felt oppo­site to what oth­er folks were up to — where the signs were mud­dy, but the con­clu­sions clear. I felt like a weirdo, but brain gonna do what the brain likes to do, and I’ve nev­er not had fore­sight, far­sight, or visions (not visions) about things that oth­ers can’t see until the myr­i­ad pos­si­bil­i­ties of the future reduce the count of vari­ables at play.

I can’t pre­dict the future, but I’m ready for it.

I am a recording device for death's surveillance state. Death records every action of the universe and our eyes do the work and our brains the processing. Entropy doesn't want to lose us and so watches the fall like grains of sand or white noise on the TV that is a woman's lips speaking. The image is from a projector whirring. A Plato's Cave - the light was split and could not resolve until, like the C.S. Lewis sunbeam, you place yourself in the world appropriately.