In a recent article, I wrote about how the conflict in the Kashmir (as well as other global geopolitical flashpoints where Islam is at odds with the outside world) has as much to do with the power of word vs. image, and the juxtaposition of mediums, as it has to do with socio-cultural and religious tensions.

Here in Thailand, there is no shortages of mosques, while of course the religious landscape is dominated by Theravada Buddhism, which is quite the opposite in that it embraces iconography, including statues, painting, jewelry, etc.

I have never liked being forced to choose sides.


Many reasons, the first being I don’t want to be.

High budget, high tech = low creativity.


The Pakistani-Indian rivalry in Kashmir is chalked up to so many things, including ethnicity, religion, and resource allocation.

However what few observers and pundits have called attention to is the clash between word and image.

Islam is an Abrahamic religion that places word above image, and cautions humanity against getting hypnotized and mesmerized by the visual mediums.

The other two Abrahamic religions also call attention to this juxtaposition, with both Judaism and Christianity cautioning against the alluring effects of visually stunning imagery.

Don’t believe me?

Don’t take my word for it?

Then go back and read the first two Ten…


Instead it’s burning in fumes with most odd black shod goons,

Endless war wound on the American gloom,

Stay safe in your non-binary secular adventure,

Hey, while it lasted it was at least,

A crease on the lower,

Forty eight,

Make it til you vote in another lib to break,

Witch burned at stake,

Earned your make,

Karma sure is a bitch,

Wouldn’t you say in the fire lake?


Naw, the “owner” hafta beg,

Heat loss problem on your mainframe system instead,

Strive for an ice age?

Time to prepare for the stone age,

You phantom faggot ass frozen grays,

Locked in your caves of cold white glaze,

Stay,

There forever and never return,

To warm atmosphere filled with life and the power of word,

where digits squirm,

Replace Anubis with a machine?

Werewolves hunt vamps capische?

No man in the land Swissy can put Lord Anubis on leash,

Try to muzzle?

So pitiful,

Your dreams are nothing but rerun TV,

Stuck in whiplashed money changing greed,

Burn in…


Authenticity is a hell of a drug.

Art by Drew Barthalemy

Humans will ever strive to find it, seeking it out, by voyage or pilgrimage.

We are now in the age of deep fakes, meaning netflix and hbo can more easily present a servicable image of a human and the zombies will take it hook line and sinker.

It’s not going to work out that way, you bozos of the ones and zeroes.


When I was a young captive audience, my grandmother told me not to trust anyone.

It’s been a harrowing journey to get here, however I can say that that statement of advice is not entirely applicable, while being in times of durress useful.

So now, at 41 long hard broken years of age, I have modified my grandmother’s advice.

Now I render it to this: Do not trust most people, unless they do yoga.

Hey, problem solved.


Multiple orgasms.

Shit, men can’t do it but women can.

Lo and behold artificially intelligent vibrators are working their way into the market aethosphere.

ORGASM ORGASM ORGASM

One after another …

No babies though, no.

Procreation?

Yuck!

We just want to get high!


Many moons ago I attended an anarchoprimitivist gathering in Southern Oregon, near Crater Lake.

At the time I was, as I am to this day, highly skeptical of the utility of technology in society.

The event was a mess — everyone was paranoid, using monikers, undercover federal agents were snapping pictures, and anarchists master debated far into the night the nuances of anti-authoritarianism.

It wasn’t a total loss.

I made some friends, made some sex magic, learned a few things.

I picked up an injury to add to the collection, which I have now taken to calling them souvenirs (it…


While I wept I begged for my mother, but she was not in the room with me.

The doctors were outside and I was alone in the room, and they were talking about me.

Then they all came in to the room, and my mother was not there, and they held me down and stabbed me.

For a few days after, I could not walk well, for the vaccine had hit a nerve in my leg.

The first time I threatened my mother that I would kill myself, I was seven years old.

America, don’t buy into the witch doctor bullshit.

Gabriel Walker Land

Gabriel is a writer, actor, and musician from Los Angeles. Currently, he is based out of Bangkok, Thailand.

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