The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees

The object of this book is to present a general view of the
Common Law. To accomplish the task, other tools are needed
besides logic. It is something to show that the consistency of a
system requires a particular result, but it is not all. The life
of the law has not been logic: it has been experience. The felt
necessities of the time, the prevalent moral and political
theories, intuitions of public policy, avowed or unconscious,
even the prejudices which judges share with their fellow-men,
have had a good deal more to do than the syllogism in determining
the rules by which men should be governed. The law embodies the
story of a nation’s development through many centuries, and it
cannot be dealt with as if it contained only the axioms and
corollaries of a book of mathematics. In order to know what it
is, we must know what it has been, and what it tends to become.
We must alternately consult history and existing theories of
legislation. But the most difficult labor will be to understand
the combination of the two into new products at every stage. The
substance of the law at any given time pretty nearly [2]
corresponds, so far as it goes, with what is then understood to
be convenient; but its form and machinery, and the degree to
which it is able to work out desired results, depend very much
upon its past.

another name for this blog — what strange tongues blow across my throat-harp, that strange instrument. Do you talk with your mouth, or your brain, or your stomach? whistle whistle twist and thwistle — language is a great an unknown rube-goldberg machine, too complicated to read the skein of connections (“world means man-old, answer right there”) this journal could be called the Glosso, the Glossoalia, the tongues

I am a gunsmith, forging the gun and the bullet of my own destruction — we are all flower-gunsmiths, hiding our bullets beneath our petals, always containing our own ends, always becoming, always becoming something else. I am a gunsmith, and I am crafting my gun

— (The Greeks called it entelechy – I am my own cause, I am my own cause, I am the infinite becoming, Naraja Shiva dancing, tapping my foot against the gnome of ignorance.)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cleantech

Still alive still kicking against the great round belly of the Mother World – what’s that there light poking out from the bottom of drain-spot? What little lights will lead me onto other rooms?? I sit in a dark pink warm room, kicking at the walls.

Madonna, Truth or Dare (1990) = Dylan, Dont Look Back 1967

There are two powers in the world, ever-warring, all-entwined, Law and Money, each trying to subvert and penetrate the other, biting back at each other like great winged serpents with gnashing teeth.

… which forbids the rich as well as the poor from sleeping under bridges.”
Anatole French.

(Said by my proctor before taking the LSAT, in October 2005) (Day 8502)

The secret latter heart of the U.S. Constitution.

Aesop Rock

Yo…put one up shackle me, not clean logic procreation
I did not invent the wheel I was the crooked spoke adjacent
While the triple sixers lassos keep angels roped in the basement
I walk the block with a halo and a stick poking your patience
Ya’ll catch a 30 second flash visual
Dirty cooperative Neptune blue head hurt splits
Ridiculous fathom the splicing of first generation
f**k up or trickle down anti hero smack (Cracking!)
I paste the game to zero all completion green (Splash!)
Took an early retirement pick a dream
American nightmare hogging the screen
I’ll hold the door open so you can stumble in
and you would stop following me around the jungle gym
Now it’s an honor and I spell it with the ‘H’ I stole from heritage
Marry crutch stolen wretched refuge refuse my teaming resonance
I promise temperance storm breed with a leaning conscious
In a credence relax responsive with my sports outsource the wattage
And I’m sleeping now (Wow!) And the settlers laugh
You won’t be laughing when your covered wagons crash
You won’t be laughing when the buses drag your brother’s flags into rags
You won’t be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs
You won’t be laughing
And I hang my boots to rest when I’m impressed
So I triple knot them then I forgot them
This origami dream is beautiful
but man those wings will never leave the ground
Without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down

All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way.
All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way.
All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way.
All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,
put the pieces back together my way.

Slacker bounded emit a tabloid headlined with the post
Shimmy cross the centerfold, and a dead time engulfed,
 
Giving crumbs for the better souls with seven deadly sins
To hear the plane to crystal conscious
The result’s a low life counting on one hand what he’s accomplished
Ok, lift me to activism chain activate street sweep
Plug in deteriorating xenobit pen dragging
I hack swords wars for the morbid spreading of mad men
Now he’s got soul
Sitting there lincoln log cabin in Charlie Chaplin waddle
I could zig zag and zig ’em again for the bad dreams
Sparking my brick wall windows another thick installment
of another night in Gotham without the wretched
Houston we have a problem
Dispatch a task of infested patch of city goblins
Who split how many freaks with box cuts of a high road bellow
Heads ripped! Watch red bricks turn yellow
Sort of similar to most backbones at camp Icarus
Raw feelings start congregating at pamper for bickering

Life’s not a bitch life is a beautiful woman
Your only call her a bit*h because she won’t let you get that pussy
Maybe she didn’t feel y’all shared any similar interests
Or maybe you’re just an asshole who couldn’t sweet talk the princess

Kiss the speaker wire or either pass it for some pagan thresh hold
Stomach full of halo kibbles
Wings span cast black of porn visuals hear the duck hunt ticker tape
Vision and pick apart the pixels
I got a friend of polar nature and it’s all peace
When I seek similar stars but can’t sit at the same feast
Metal Captain!
This cat is asking if I’ve seen his little lost passion
I told him: ‘Yeah, but only when I pedaled past him’