… these famed masters of art, does their art have to impress me, because their art is praised, priced and preserved by their protegees and the ever so hungry arts-craving-audience?

Since art is separated from any “initialness” in a person, and since the person is in that way only desired as some occurring individual in the vast, unlimited audience, art can just stuff the heads, just like any undesirable human process can.

Every artifact can stuff my head. Can the idiot give (think something) in return? (My picture is painted in black and white. Black is the “I” and white that which stays white or turns gray.)

Flesh is Bodies

I said:

Some guy who runs a weird type of grocery chainstore (he himself is an acclaimed person in the anthroposophical scene and is thus into producing organic “produce”, although his grocery store, which makes up one part of his enterprise, sells everything … too ) in Germany said he has some bacon-meat-sausage-flesh-crap produced and he would have the bacon smoked, accompanied with classical music (it’s live musicians that come around to do the job even), cos he believed there is “still some soul” in the “meat” and it’s just right if this “soul” gets some classical music for it to get smoked. Yet another apex of the evilness of speciesism.

It’s sick how on one hand people with such forms of fullblown speciesist mindsets do attribute a soul to nonhuman animals as the individuals whom they negate and kill, while proudly revealing at the same time how they want to be empty of the ability to understand things ethically.

A nonhuman animal is “something” to them “which” should be killed, prepared, and eaten and they assert that  nonhuman animals should be something classified exactly as that: “something” you can kill, prepare and eat.

Such speciesist entrepreneurs hold up the idea of the “edible carcass”. A conscious grade of necrophile perversion.

Spikybug said:

That reminds me of a TV commercial here several years ago, by a big sausage company. They tried to give the impression it was a small company run by one nice man. In this commercial, this man is sitting out in the forest, surrounded by trees, and there is country music playing loudly. And the man says he’s playing country music for the trees, because then when the trees are burned to smoke the sausage, it will produce a better flavor.

We are wishing the visitor/s happy vegan holidays.

In a small country every person owned a garden with fruit and vegetables of all sorts.

Nobody would eat anything from the animal kingdom that had been killed.

When old King had a deadly accident in his garden (or had he been killed?) his son, Zohhak, a spoiled greedy young man, would inherit the Kingdom.

The young king always had many friends around him.

And to his group of friends one new young man came to add up, and that one offered himself to the king as the best of all cooks.

First this mastercook would serve tasty meals made from eggs. Then something made out of small birds, then geese and ducks, delicate spicy piglets and

the young king and his group of his friends forgot that they had really started eating animals.

A big friendship developed between the king and the mastercook. As a token of their closeness the cook asked the king if he would allow him to kiss his cheeks. How much the young king loved to grant such a humble desire of his master, since the lust that this cook had for good meals seemed the greatest pleasure that life could provide to him.

Suddenly something horrific happened to the young king’s beautiful body! On each side a serpent crept half way out of his shoulders . They opened their mouths hungry for food. They tormented him cos they would reject every usual food for snakes.

The young king had all doctors and advisors come for a cure. No one could help him, except one advisor,

who recommended to kill young men, sever their brains out and prepare a meal from that for the snakes.

Now the serpents got calm, but also they now had firmly grown into the shoulders of the king.

At the same time the young king hadn’t only changed outwardly. His character became cruel and brutal, his people feared him. He involved the people in brutal wars and his live itself ended in a gruesome way.

Here is a link to the Zahhak pages of Farangis. And check out some good n fresh and healthy and hygienic vegan recipes.

Just so, nothing special to add. If anybody would listen, I would like to say: make the change now, think about how you can change the world and your life for better, become AWARE in Animal Rights and Human Rights and ethically motivated environmental terms.

The ice is melting in the north, your life is affected NOW too by the havoc we humans create on this planet. Use the difference you CAN make for a reverence for all life.

Turn the difference you can make into an action that makes others want to follow your trail.

A change can never be complete if so much stagnation – as we have it – is being seen as normal.

Veganism is the step towards real universal justice. And, you owe it to every being, everybody and yourself.

This is music going along with this, track starts after 11 seconds: Amongst Equilibria.mp3

The sub-plane of an individual experience

“The time between a momentary, directly experienced condition and all other conditions in the past and the [assumed] immediate future, is instrumetally and functionally measurable, but stays in reality – as a continuum on the experiential plane – ungraspable for the mind. This is so because of the density of thoughts, the anatomy of the thought-sphere and its (as a process) principally absurd structures.”

From Nati’s Horror, a literary portrait inspired by Ms. Nathalie van Eyck, a series of short stories I’ve written in the 1990ies.

JUST RANDOMLY MENTIONED: If you click on this image to enlarge it, you will see a part of this image which identically repeats on one of Palalang’s postcards ( http://www.simorgh.de/objects/051207_1/ ) .

The one side

The other side

Punks on Kings Road
a poem by Farangis Yegane

fluttering through masses that have no soul,
spike-headed,
multicoloured birds,
searching-around,
up and down,
in neon lights
came to blosom early,
in basement-nests,
ragged-clothes, hanging-edgy-stuff,
chains-sounding,
weak hearts
up and down
and heavy booted,
crowded in bulks,
on benches, stairs,
empty glance
in multicoloured rags
tired-faced
up and down
at loss of goals.

Translation by Palang Latif

More drafts for snail mail postcards we once made. Gonna upload final results some day too.

….

….

….

….

….

….

….

….

Color Theory, booklet consisting of 6 prints with text in diamond case. Texts and images by Farangis. € 25.00 / $ 37.00.

Pink morning
pink cheeks
pink sky
unblemished
cyclamen
snow-white white
fairy tale women
cheeks, hot
no day
ends
in pink

Green trees,
green marsians,
Goethe liking
“green sauce” (German dish),
green green green
are all my clothes (allusion to passage of a German folk song)
because my husband
is no good hunter
since he shoots my deer

Blue eyes
has my cat
sees
in the blue sky
blackbirds
looks at me
so blue
looks at me
so smart

Purple Cathedrals
purple priests
purple gowns
purple purplus
he reads in purple
purple women
in the niches
humble heading towards church and kitchen and children

multicoloured dog
gorges
only veggies
doctor says ‘that won’t work’
multicoloured dog
pees on car’s wheels
guardians
are aggrieved
multicoloured dog
is pretty healthy

Yellow bright
Nina rocks
in rockers’ cave
yellow glimpse
hits into the taboo
whips a
storm of german words
skrieking screams
a yellow-light hell
how that shoots
I like to listen