BIO
Lewis LaCook makes things. He is a programmer/poet. He likes unstable objects. He doesn't eat enough. Send him all your money.
HOT CROSS BUNS
Must we go over all this again.
I can tell. A question re-arranges. Objects on a
table. Until an
answer. Proves. Too much time.
By the way you're looking at me I came back to say.
Yes. You may go out of your mind for an hour or so. It
seems.
Curled, lurking alignment; almost an elemental rule.
Refusing to
signify. Hot cross buns, so very tizzy at me.
Fast. True. Mound.
Lint. True. Mount.
Particlepotatoangel.
Brick. Glue. Town.
Much hilarity ensues.
Are. You laughing at. Me reminds.
Newly re-furbished cognition.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
I can tell. A question re-arranges. Objects on a
table. Until an
answer. Proves. Too much time.
By the way you're looking at me I came back to say.
Yes. You may go out of your mind for an hour or so. It
seems.
Curled, lurking alignment; almost an elemental rule.
Refusing to
signify. Hot cross buns, so very tizzy at me.
Fast. True. Mound.
Lint. True. Mount.
Particlepotatoangel.
Brick. Glue. Town.
Much hilarity ensues.
Are. You laughing at. Me reminds.
Newly re-furbished cognition.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
PAINESVILLE
Learn the signs of high blood pressure early. If he
has blood
spurting out his ears, he has high blood pressure. If
heartburn
rusts his inner cildren down to nubbin bumpers that no
longer
function for the nonce, he has high blood pressure.
You can't
stay a cloud forever.
Hey, get down from there! I said to Brad, who
continues to
coat the corners of the room with his viscous squib.
Cobwebs
bedewed with wedding pictures (hanging like glycerine
drops from
strands just barely audibly breathing) remind us of Y
and its
emancipation from pissing daisies on the dasein of the
tao. Just
let it happen, Brittany continually advises. She's a
beautiful
sieve that lets pouring rugburn through; when she
walks by, sores
tumble out of her gait, like a door's been slit in
metaphor and
all my little gods have become phosphorescent with
melancholy.
Keats, I'm yelling to Brad over Wang Chung tonight,
Keats did not
foresee this. Keats is younger in the corners than
rock bands
crawling out of airplane-drenched groupie formations,
according
to Lakey Teasdale.
High blood pressure means a well-balanced diet of
the worms
in flaccid roast won't dream about Renee and I in a
restaurant
slowly flooding with bad coffee and the ghosts of
algebra.
Because you can't extract a system from this, it will
pluck a
blueprint from your face. Your network of veinsville
is stressed.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
has blood
spurting out his ears, he has high blood pressure. If
heartburn
rusts his inner cildren down to nubbin bumpers that no
longer
function for the nonce, he has high blood pressure.
You can't
stay a cloud forever.
Hey, get down from there! I said to Brad, who
continues to
coat the corners of the room with his viscous squib.
Cobwebs
bedewed with wedding pictures (hanging like glycerine
drops from
strands just barely audibly breathing) remind us of Y
and its
emancipation from pissing daisies on the dasein of the
tao. Just
let it happen, Brittany continually advises. She's a
beautiful
sieve that lets pouring rugburn through; when she
walks by, sores
tumble out of her gait, like a door's been slit in
metaphor and
all my little gods have become phosphorescent with
melancholy.
Keats, I'm yelling to Brad over Wang Chung tonight,
Keats did not
foresee this. Keats is younger in the corners than
rock bands
crawling out of airplane-drenched groupie formations,
according
to Lakey Teasdale.
High blood pressure means a well-balanced diet of
the worms
in flaccid roast won't dream about Renee and I in a
restaurant
slowly flooding with bad coffee and the ghosts of
algebra.
Because you can't extract a system from this, it will
pluck a
blueprint from your face. Your network of veinsville
is stressed.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
Re: -[]-+ CoLoR cOmBiNaToR +-[]-
>
cute man cute....
i'm always fascinated by flash works that use sliders...i haven't gotten into slider-land yet, but i know what the code looks like, and it's daunting...
bliss
l
cute man cute....
i'm always fascinated by flash works that use sliders...i haven't gotten into slider-land yet, but i know what the code looks like, and it's daunting...
bliss
l
JOB OPPORTUNITIES AT THE SMITHSONIAN
When X walked into the office that day, it knew
something was up.
Y stood on the threshold, kneading its hands, wringing
a sheaf of
palindromic reports on neologistic coinages. "Moom," Y
said in
greeting, though X had never heard it speak that way
before. Are
you okay? X asked it. "Bab," Y replied. "Sis mam did
lol."
If the sky peels back to show what
furs drench the sepulchre tonight
while clouds are nude pink flesh and
bubbles gurgle aggregate babble,
then the sky pinches over a quarter 'til,
hiding in healing the Lima we knew
as children. Or else, Macchu Piccu, while
babble aggravates a gravity cooled and
vacated of concatenation, the newly
pinched flash of clouds flowing over
our childhoods' children molded from
Brad and Brittany's engagement party was at a quarter
to nine. To
get there on time, Y knew it had to take the commuter
train fully
down the basin to job opportunities at the
Smithsonian, get off
at the innocence of insteps flexing cheddar gravel in
chili
mentation, amble back past a carton of macaroons just
subjectively basking in the sepulchre's grim iced
patina, and
then weave cautiously through pop bub gag tit. It
would take at
least half an hour, traffic notwithstanding. To
prepare for the
morning frenzy, Y had sent a clandestine e-mail to X
outlining
its fervent belief in the ominous impotence of Brad
and
Brittany's engagement party. "Radar gog pap toot!" It
read in
part. "Dad ada kook tots, moom lol gig foof!" That
aside,
Macchu Piccu keeps flow from walling in
the children who mistake their eyes for
a span of time spitting out tizzie boots
to further walking pneumonia down to the
river's urge. On the savannah, teal tufts
of cloud ovulate frenetically, keeping time
with an uneven line breakage that renders
all points hopeless, even in this feline
electrical storm. Our childhood, fully
clothed, seems a twisted and a muffled
thing to me now. Nobody said this would be
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
something was up.
Y stood on the threshold, kneading its hands, wringing
a sheaf of
palindromic reports on neologistic coinages. "Moom," Y
said in
greeting, though X had never heard it speak that way
before. Are
you okay? X asked it. "Bab," Y replied. "Sis mam did
lol."
If the sky peels back to show what
furs drench the sepulchre tonight
while clouds are nude pink flesh and
bubbles gurgle aggregate babble,
then the sky pinches over a quarter 'til,
hiding in healing the Lima we knew
as children. Or else, Macchu Piccu, while
babble aggravates a gravity cooled and
vacated of concatenation, the newly
pinched flash of clouds flowing over
our childhoods' children molded from
Brad and Brittany's engagement party was at a quarter
to nine. To
get there on time, Y knew it had to take the commuter
train fully
down the basin to job opportunities at the
Smithsonian, get off
at the innocence of insteps flexing cheddar gravel in
chili
mentation, amble back past a carton of macaroons just
subjectively basking in the sepulchre's grim iced
patina, and
then weave cautiously through pop bub gag tit. It
would take at
least half an hour, traffic notwithstanding. To
prepare for the
morning frenzy, Y had sent a clandestine e-mail to X
outlining
its fervent belief in the ominous impotence of Brad
and
Brittany's engagement party. "Radar gog pap toot!" It
read in
part. "Dad ada kook tots, moom lol gig foof!" That
aside,
Macchu Piccu keeps flow from walling in
the children who mistake their eyes for
a span of time spitting out tizzie boots
to further walking pneumonia down to the
river's urge. On the savannah, teal tufts
of cloud ovulate frenetically, keeping time
with an uneven line breakage that renders
all points hopeless, even in this feline
electrical storm. Our childhood, fully
clothed, seems a twisted and a muffled
thing to me now. Nobody said this would be
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
LUNCHTIME IN THE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE LAB
Love in the heady hours of daylight savings time
always works out. Then I saw her face; now I'm
a believer! Sunshine in the off-season learns
the pre-meditated delight of playing about
her dappled shoulders. For dry skin, especially
around the elbow regions, birds suddenly appear.
The slit throat of the sun winnows with washing
darkness from the
scrubs of fences. The poet, along with his American
humming-bird
(sheltered in a cage from the ferocity of autumn)
wallows in rain
the size and softness of her belly; something he
always thought
possible but only read about previously in album
reviews in
Rolling Stone. This column of text is reminiscent of
her bed. It
dribbles down the page, much like creamed corn tricks
the corners
of an invalid's mouth into twitching. A tour-de-force
in pure
noise, heroic land music populates an abstract region
somewhere
between statehood and fast food. The comfort of it is
astonishing! The poet, sheltered from the ferocity of
a cage of
gilded time-and-a-half, flutters her wings so quickly
they're
invisible to the unaided eye.
The glasses surgically embed beams of science
fiction in her eyes, still scanning the sky
for import into photoshop. After the catharsis
of their last collaboration, the poet and his
exponential bird blast off this time for
saving daylight in a jar, which, frozen, can
seem both imposing and ridiculous in this light.
A bottle of hours is opened in their silver
space-ship. But robots never need lotion.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com
always works out. Then I saw her face; now I'm
a believer! Sunshine in the off-season learns
the pre-meditated delight of playing about
her dappled shoulders. For dry skin, especially
around the elbow regions, birds suddenly appear.
The slit throat of the sun winnows with washing
darkness from the
scrubs of fences. The poet, along with his American
humming-bird
(sheltered in a cage from the ferocity of autumn)
wallows in rain
the size and softness of her belly; something he
always thought
possible but only read about previously in album
reviews in
Rolling Stone. This column of text is reminiscent of
her bed. It
dribbles down the page, much like creamed corn tricks
the corners
of an invalid's mouth into twitching. A tour-de-force
in pure
noise, heroic land music populates an abstract region
somewhere
between statehood and fast food. The comfort of it is
astonishing! The poet, sheltered from the ferocity of
a cage of
gilded time-and-a-half, flutters her wings so quickly
they're
invisible to the unaided eye.
The glasses surgically embed beams of science
fiction in her eyes, still scanning the sky
for import into photoshop. After the catharsis
of their last collaboration, the poet and his
exponential bird blast off this time for
saving daylight in a jar, which, frozen, can
seem both imposing and ridiculous in this light.
A bottle of hours is opened in their silver
space-ship. But robots never need lotion.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
http://sbc.yahoo.com