The Roof Is on Fire

by =ahermin

Hello my name is Jimmy Pop and I’m a dumb white guy
I’m not old or new but middle school fifth grade like junior high
I don’t know mofo if y’all peeps be buggin’ givin’ props to my ho ’cause she fly
But I can take the heat ’cause I’m the other white meat known as Kid Funky Fried
Yeah I’m hung like planet Pluto hard to see with the naked eye
But if I crashed into Uranus I would stick it where the sun don’t shine
‘Cause I’m kind of like Han Solo always strokin’ my own Wookiee
I’m the root of all that’s evil yeah but you can call me Cookie

The roof the roof the roof is on fire
The roof the roof the roof is on fire
The roof the roof the roof is on fire
We don’t need no water let the motherfucker burn
Burn motherfucker burn

You’ve Got Me

 

by =ahermin

“Love binds, and it binds forever. Good binds while evil unravels. Separation is another word for evil; it is also another word for deceit.”
― Michel Houellebecq, The Elementary Particles

Our House

by =ahermin

Our house of fire, in the middle of our dream.Home, home again I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired,
It’s good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field the tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells. Pink Floyd

The world around inspires nothing than profound disgust and labors the desire to run away without claiming any share of fake belonging that is insinuated by the News headlines and by reality shows.
We long to return to our forefathers’ home where the ancestors once lived protected by angels’ wings. We look to find that peculiar morality witch turned life in holly. We search the feeling of belonging, as compulsive as the embrace of mild addictions; that something that transcends and yet contains life. We cannot live far from eternity.

Let’s build a house of fire, baby
Not one of wood or stone
Walk through my door of desire, baby
Come on in and make it your home
Don’t need a window to watch you, baby
Don’t need no roof overhead
Don’t need no key to unlock ya, baby
I’ll use my lovin’ instead

 

A. Cooper

 

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Revelation

 

by =ahermin

“I had a kind of revelation in the Sinai desert, where Moses received the Ten Commandments. Suddenly I experienced a total rejection of monotheism. In this very rocky, inspiring land, I said to myself that the idea of believing in only one God was cretinous. I could not think of another word. And the stupidest religion of all is Islam. When one reads the Koran one is devastated, devastated. At least the Bible is very beautiful because the Jews have a sacred literary talent which can excuse a lot of things.” (Michel Houellebecq)

A Beautiful Girl

 

by =ahermin

“The terrible predicament of a beautiful girl is that only an experienced womanizer, someone cynical and without scruple, feels up to the challenge. More often than not, she will lose her virginity to some filthy lowlife in what proves to be the first step in an irrevocable decline.”
― Michel Houellebecq, The Elementary Particles

Maestro’s newest deviations

Sexplication of Art

 

Clone

 

Wizard Tips

Love Songs

by =ahermin

“Love binds, and it binds forever. Good binds while evil unravels. Separation is another word for evil; it is also another word for deceit.”

“Et l’amour, où tout est facile,
Où tout est donné dans l’instant;
Il existe au milieu du temps
La possibilité d’une île.”

― Michel Houellebecq

The Great Gig in the Sky

 

by =ahermin

“And I am not frightened of dying. Any time will do, I don’t mind. Why should I be frightened of dying? There’s no reason for it. You’ve gotta go sometime.”
“I never said I was frightened of dying.”

Pink Floyd

Playing God

 

by =ahermin

A new creature was created by American scientists – the spider-goat. It is part goat, part spider, and its milk can be used to create artificial spider’s web.

It is part of a new field of research, synthetic biology, with a radical aim: to break down nature into spare parts so that we can rebuild it however we please.

This technology is already being used to make bio-diesel to power cars. Other researchers are looking at how we might, one day, control human emotions by sending ‘biological machines’ into our brains.

The Rest Is Silence

by =ahermin

You’ve lived so little that you tend to imagine you’re not going to die; it seems improbable that human existence can be reduced to so little; one imagines, in spite of oneself, that sooner or later something is bound to happen. A big mistake. A life can just as well be both empty and short. The days slip by indifferently, leaving neither trace nor memory; and then all of a sudden they stop.

Your Life is Largely Irrelevant

When you step back thousands of years at a time, and look upon all those countless people who lived, struggled, and died on this earth, who appeared and disappeared in the blink of a cosmic eye, the comings and goings of any particular person or group of people seem as the comings and goings of the smallest germ colonies in the farthest jungles surely seems to you – completely and utterly meaningless.

Sure, those men – in China and Syria – mattered to someone, but those someones too are gone and forgotten. Of what grand importance were any of them, really? They lived tough lives; ones they may actually have believed held meaning, and so they toiled and sweated, and planned and worried, to have food to buy for another day, or a roof to sleep under another night, or a goat or mule to pass down to another son.

And THAT’S what caused them such great stress? THAT!? Some crumbs for dinner, or a thatched roof for a nap!? All of which are gone by the way. All of which added no great value to their lives, or numbers to their days.

They struggled and worried and cried for nothing. They stressed and depressed and killed for nothing. Their lives had no meaning. Not a purpose, not a plan. Not a reason, nor a cause.

Their “problems” were not problems, and their obstacles were not obstacles…except in their minds.

That they existed at all is entirely irrelevant to us, here and now. So too will we be irrelevant.

bonus:

 

 

Reality Fades

by =ahermin

I was spending my time in the doldrums
I was caught in the cauldron of hate
I felt persecuted and paralyzed
I thought that everything else would just wait
While you are wasting your time on your enemies
Engulfed in a fever of spite
Beyond your tunnel vision reality fades
Like shadows into the night

To martyr yourself to caution
Is not going to help at all
Because there’ll be no safety in numbers
When the Right One walks out of the door

Can you see your days blighted by darkness?
Is it true you beat your fists on the floor?
Stuck in a world of isolation
While the ivy grows over the door

So I open my door to my enemies
And I ask could we wipe the slate clean
But they tell me to please go fuck myself
You know you just can’t win

Pink Floyd

Nothing to Loose But Our Chains – A World to Win

 

by =ahermin

“Religion is, indeed, the self-consciousness and self-esteem of man who has either not yet won through to himself, or has already lost himself again. But man is no abstract being squatting outside the world. Man is the world of man—state, society. This state and this society produce religion, which is an inverted consciousness of the world, because they are an inverted world. Religion is the general theory of this world, its encyclopedic compendium, its logic in popular form, its spiritual point d’honneur, its enthusiasm, its moral sanction, its solemn complement, and its universal basis of consolation and justification. It is the fantastic realization of the human essence since the human essence has not acquired any true reality. The struggle against religion is, therefore, indirectly the struggle against that world whose spiritual aroma is religion. Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions. The criticism of religion is, therefore, in embryo, the criticism of that vale of tears of which religion is the halo”
― Karl Marx

Let Me

by =ahermin

Photography / Abstract & Surreal / Surreal

©2012 =ahermin

 

Let me put my love into you, babe
Let me put my love on the line
Let me put my love into you, babe
Let me cut your cake with my knife
Oh, Like a fever
Burning faster
You spark the fire in me
Crazy feelings
Got me reeling
They got me raising steam
Don’t you struggle
Don’t you fight
Don’t you worry
‘Cause it’s your turn tonight
Yeah

AC/DC

Toasts by Hermin Abramovitch

       

Pseudoflora by Hermin Abramovitch

        

Maestro’s retrospective

 

    

 

                         

    

 

You Can’t See Me

by =ahermin

Alone in the clouds all blue
Lying on an eiderdown.
Yippee! You can’t see me
But I can you.

Lazing in the foggy dew
Sitting on a unicorn.
No fair, you can’t hear me
But I can you.

Watching buttercups cup the light
Sleeping on a dandelion.
Too much, I won’t touch you
But then I might.

Screaming through the starlit sky
Traveling by telephone.
Hey ho, here we go
Ever so high.

Alone in the clouds all blue
Lying on an eiderdown.
Yippee! You can’t see me
But I can you.

Flaming, Alone in the clouds all blue
Lying on an eiderdown.
Yippee! You can’t see me
But I can you.

Lazing in the foggy dew
Sitting on a unicorn.
No fair, you can’t hear me
But I can you.

Watching buttercups cup the light
Sleeping on a dandelion.
Too much, I won’t touch you
But then I might.

Screaming through the starlit sky
Traveling by telephone.
Hey ho, here we go
Ever so high.

Alone in the clouds all blue
Lying on an eiderdown.
Yippee! You can’t see me
But I can you.

Flaming, by S. Barrett, Pink Floyd,, from album The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

Two Suns in the Sunset

by =ahermin

in my rear view mirror the sun is going down
sinking behind bridges in the road
and i think of all the good things
that we have left undone
and i suffer premonitions
confirm suspicions
of the holocaust to come
the rusty wire that holds the cork
that keeps the anger in
gives way
and suddenly it’s day again
the sun is in the east
even though the day is done
two suns in the sunset

Pink Floyd