Master sessions

REINHELM FELDBAUER has authorized, paid for, and admonstrolated the development of up to 32 new paradigm shifters from the council warehouse elaboratory declaration of incandescence from his lordship, MATTHU HAUER'd STULL upon the Requisite Subscription and commission of delivery of said master TAPES to the inner ENTRAILS of EXXYLCROTH, with full nominations of payment interludes, invested as they aren't notwithstanding toward teneous fibres of infinite insanity to the contrary! Interested parties are admonished

CATACOMB LIBRA will soon be ready......

so soon it will be ready...ready for mortals to digest with their reading mechanisms. Stull is now in NX-2 Studios in Pittsburgh typing away, getting this old bastard into the computer age. Some of you may have been lucky enough to read this many years ago, when it was fresh in the mind foam of Matthu Stull. But he can't believe so many of his ideas are taken already, some of them, Matthu knows, have been stolen, but he will persevere......The FIFTH QUADRANT means something entirely different in the ENCHANTED EMPIRE OF EXXYLCROTH !! SIROZON and his drooling minions are still prepared to submit to the mandates of CONTRACEPTUALISM as long as Chip Stone and REINHELM FELDBAUER remain in perfect harmony and allow for neither subterfuge, neither nor, no others can Contrivically Demand less than is worthy.

In'suffiecent Fun'ds

Alas, forthwith morever and ANON, canst therefore, in subsequence, these our truth-bearing stacks being coin or cash nor furthermore of a currency divine. Fall, my love, into my lap, recline thy pretty head, and fluff your hair and shake this treasure from your HAIR, YEs, fairest mine, it is all about the money....  Let Gods despair for lack of attention, while I wrangle alone a couple of extra dollars from the earth spirit, all together we feast, and fester, Please, Count this, my lovely jewels beset thereon, in between the heaps of choice tokens, of gold or silver, spinning and a couple of books of wet bills.  i'll dry them with love on the radiator element, even though burning sun torch my flesh and eyes, I am the power to spending this. all of heaven smile on my shopping, but yes, you will bestow the moneys VERY SOON

Wyrld K'upp 1

Greetings friends, you have all my best wishings for that your team can be of a winning goal with such strengths and power to prevail for may the best team winnings!!!  Now is the Japan team in a match against Paraguay.  if you know who shall win, then you know at least twice half as much as some of your best friends in the continent of your choosings.  pleeze play a good game 

October 19, 2006

It's getting close to the time for us to get going.  I'm a little drunk.  Listening to King Crimson playing "Cirkus" live in what seems like the latter part of 1971, oh the mellotron.  The saga continues.  So it does.

   We still have some cleaning up to do, and I've got some packing to perform.  Can you believe that we're going to be in Paris in 8 hours?

Count Ejacula

Count Ejacula paced along the northwest parapet glancing into the gloomy distance. He nervously fingered his antique Syrian topaz ring, like as if it was going to help matters. The sky was pressed low and menacing upon the castle. Dark purple foggy clouds swept swiftly across the upper towers of the massive stone builiding. Near the jagged horizon, faint streaks of lightning occasionally flashed, but they were not audibly present in the least.
"She will come.....", the Count whispered. "She will renounce her devotion to Malignath, and perpetuate the continuation of the myth, joining me in my quest to achieve total domination of the Fifth Quadrant!!"
He was referring to Princess Illuminoma, Grand Shepherdess Superior of the district of Frontesia, which comprises the outer counties of the northern section of the Fifth Quadrant. Illuminoma sent a courier to the Count not more than a month previous with word that she would join him as soon as the High Priest Malignath was properly punished for his countless crimes against humanity.
"I hate myself!!!" The Count screamed at nearly the top of this lungs. He let the sound of his voice echo a little then continued....."I'm so burnt out. There's nothing left. The ancient ashes of my dusty nothingness never even came close to resembling my true power. I could have conquered Turkey and the Holy Land, maybe even Rome. I might have eaten the carcass of the Pope and washed it down from Cognac out of the Holy Grail.....What grief these mine entrails declare!!! Rejoice!, for the silent thunder is aware of my over-reaching insignificance."
His gleaming golden bracelet glimmered as another bolt of lightning flickered. Count Ejacula spread out his tarot cards on a little table which was flanked by raging torches. "Fucking Five of Swords again! Damn this foamy-mouthed plague, this blonde bitch of cackling night!!"
He tosses the cards over the railing, then watches them plunge 8 or more storeys down into some white water rapids below. Just then, the butler, Tyrone emerged from a ornate steel door with hardly a lack of grandiloquence. Tyrone gracefully approached Ejacula then paused before him, awaiting permission to speak.
The Count spoke: "Oh, good evening, Tyrone. Have the guests arrived?"
Tyrone answered: "Precisely, sir. The Stones and and a journalist named Umbrellica Pierce."
The Count quickly shot it in: "Yes, of course. She's with with the Herald. But what is Ignora wearing?"
Ignora Stone and her brother Chip comprised the aformentioned "Stones". Ejacula had given Ignora a special amulet to wear when she visits so that he won't be able to just lean over and bite into her neck, which is quite deliciously tempting for our vampire character. Chip Stone has always been aware of the Count's urges to dip his fangs into Ignora's lovely rosy white flesh, but somehow this fact didn't really bother him. Chip trusted Ejacula's modes of precaution and safety so it was expected that the amulet would serve perfectly to facilitate a powerful magical barrier to any bloody indulgences.
"Well," Tyrone answered, beginning then pausing to do a quick scan of his short-term memory banks. " I believe she's wearing Emilio Pucci. An exquisitely snug but flowing black and silver dress. There are a few blushing flecks of striping ribbon embellishments across the mid-lower torso region.......One pearl necklace....Let's see....uh......The hair is swept over to the left and pulled up in the back. Perfume... some sort of Chanel or something...Quite frankly sir, I'm a bit puzzled by her delightful scent."
Tyrone made a very brief, nearly imperceptible bow at the conclusion of his statement.
"Excellent. Thank you Tyrone. You are now and will always be a genius. But more importantly.....you are a great man."
"Thank you, kind master, " Tyrone responded, again just barely making a faint bow. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared into the same door-shaped opening in the wall from whence he appeared not 90 seconds previous..........

WILD BOAR du JOUR

Wild Boar du Jour
Matthu Stull August 2009


August 3 1909: When the rats finally went to sleep, after nibbling at my extremities for some odd number of hours, and after the hazy blue vapors of dawn had transferred beyond the noxious stream of mistly sunlight, I crawled toward my whiskey bottle and took a nice big slug. It was the best breakfast a man could ask for in this freakish landscape of endless jungle nightmare.
In my youth, I had quite a romantic picture of the jungle in my mind. I imagined the parrots and primates and jaguars all frollicking gayly amid strange coconuts and huge flowers of violet and topaz. This fantasy continues with me loading my rifle, kissing Veronica, and shooting a 30-foot long python through the left eye at 40 yards. Then we find the ancient temple full of rare gems and various treasures and whatnot. But no! It's not like that at all! It's a shitty dump full of flesh eating insects, diseases of absurd variety and power, and untold scores of cannibals and malevolent savages.
I took another big gulp of the scotch, then took a piss on one of the slaves we brought along to carry all of our shit.
“Goggo!, wake up, you lazy piece of smelly shit!”, I screamed as I kicked him in the ribs. But Goggo didn't so much as flinch in response. Yeah, you guessed it, he was dead and half rotten now too. His face was all shredded up and eaten up by rats or something else. I carefully took back the few coins I had paid him for last week's work, avoiding to actually touch the slimy dirty skin of the nasty little corpse.
“Son of a bitch.” I mumbled, then staggered over to my rifle. It was time. It was time to kill.
“Hey, can someone bring this stuff to the palace?” I yelled. But there was no answer. Where were all of the slaves, I wondered? How am I gonna move the tent, the kitchen stuff and 3 or 4 crates of rare books to the hunting fields at the Palace of Queen Threenfthra?
“Fuck it.” I muttered and then emptied the whiskey bottle into my mouth. I tossed another one into my rucksack but noticed with no small amount of terror that there were only 4 bottles left. But oh well, I was sure the Quenn would have plenty of drinks for me, as long as I could bring her some wild boar meat, for which she always had a unrelenting craving. But it wouldn't be easy to get there without a horse. Charlotte, some old horse I was using, was eaten 3 days ago my pirhanas. Poor thing, I tried to pull her to safety, but her legs were just bloody bone after about 30 seconds in the Amazon. And then I was even bitten a few times too. I started shooting into the water with my pistol but without much in the way of positive results. Aaahhhhh, the fact is that I must cross roughly 30 miles of dense jungle on foot, without a single guide or servant.

August 6, 1909: I've just hacked a tapir to death with my machete. I have the sharpest machete on the planet. No joke, that's a fact. What, you don't believe me? It cuts through tapir flesh like a samurai sword cuts through marmalade. But it's probably sharper than them jap swords too. I give a fuck, anyway, whether or not you trust the inherent veracity of my claims. The point is this: I got a dead animal to cut up and eat and a half bottle of Scotch to pour down my gullet!

August 8, 1909: I think I took a wrong turn at that village yesterday. I asked some cannibals there which way would take me toward the Palace of Queen Threenfthra and I automatically assumed they were lying to me, so of course, after shooting them point blank with my Laird & Murphy 6 ö 5, I took the direction going exactly opposite to the one they'd suggested. Now I almost rather regret that choice. I'm just surrounded by silly white foamy rapids now, and that silly constant roar which I guess these kayak people just adore. But I adore the roar of the boar. Only maybe slightly less than that of the whore. Furthermore, what matters it now just after before? I'll take this chance to apologize for my meanderings of mind. Perhaps it was not wise to eat that strange mushroom from the jungle's floor......This incessant churning of river ravages me. I must get going and buy a map at some secret kiosk some such place or other. Pray for me, you heathens!!!

August 12 1909: I met a strange old Syrian man today under a steaming cataract of blood at a mountainside of alien vegetables. He gave me a fascinating book called “The Code of Sirozon”. This book has drastically altered my consciousness, so much so that I've developed an amazing psychic ability to navigate this wilderness. With certainty now, I am on the right path to the Palace of the Queen. And I've built a sort of laser spear using some crystals I found in a foggy canyon. I put these crystals into the end of a long branch of some half burnt tree that I found. Then I soaked the staff in a peculiar resin which flowed from a pile of stones under a vast prehistoric terrace of mild richness. Finally I tied it together with some glowing blue spider webs I also found in the foggy cavern near the the canyon of canyons in a land of canyons and deeper gorges than can be believed on this here planet. Of this Laser Spear, it can be said that it is a powerful device, but that I instinctively understood that I must charge it under bright moonlight, preferably a full moon, which was the situation last night. A feeling of supreme power surges through me when I use this laser spear. I have tested it on a few time on some random boulders and I hope you will forgive my sincere delight as I watched these huge rocks dissolve into a fine powder after being struck by the powerful pink beam. The only real drawback is that after 2 or 3 shots, it becomes very weak, not shooting at all, just giving off a subtle and softy rosy amber light. Still, if I charge it and use it only in dire necessity, I will be most happy to have it in my arsenal.
Now, let me take a moment to write a little more abou this ancient book I received. Upon first opening “The Code of Sirozon”, a peculiar mist seemed to swirl around me. The words on the page crept forward almost like Satanic insects, they seemed to levitate before my eyes and at the same time I thought I could hear a muffled chattering murmur of dragons or something, in a language I cannot hope to describe at all whatsoever. After my initial shock of the nature of this volume, I began to perceive actual words in the English language. These words are bizarre in the extreme and I will copy some sections here:
from page 19: “That withall causeth fine timber to squeal up into this there then of rapture's flotation. Canst whither thin milky vapors having blackest shape of eye came narrow. But seest thou how pendulum enformed twin turbo didst bake not blast the fourth vacuums of Quantum Thrust? So too true the cavern lit manifold aflame thereon, caress the sand of bridges whence time simmers in that implosive pulse. Make do with mine envoicings beyond horizon, for that which makest of mine foamy nebulous is therefore contained and optimum to that which alas is of might and broad balance. Still twixt be it conceived to employeth new pistons of stone for thine but the engine it Breathes in fair light of naked raptured effects!”
Of course, any savage can tell you this passage is nothing but rubbish. But to me, as an initiate of The Knights of Exxylcroth, I knew with not even the faintest shade of doubt that there was here in front of me a serious code of interdimensional grandeur. I have only read 32 of the 412 pages, but already something radical is taking place within me. And not just the thoughts in my brain, but all aspects of my being are going through some kind of intense esoteric transformation.

The Cathedral

Twenty Thousand Trumpets all scream,
The Terrible bricks in Alignment Glitter,
Theirs are Dimensions in holiest formation.
What sequence persists, forming Monumental Shadows
and Breathless sepulchral Views, One Hundred Times True!
Bony-eyed Gargoyles Teeming on Towers, vaulted and arched,
stretching for sunlight in the Optimum Gloom.
Here While our chanting Brothers resist the Poking Gentle
Spears from Above,
The Catacombs Whisper a soft stagnant Meadow of Sin.

Unknown Master of North Indian Percussion....Jiarwad Bhagavishnivad

Many people know of the glory of Indian music traditions. It's totally groovy, though, when one discovers that one knows nearly nothing about one of the most incredible percussionists of all time. The secret and silently legendary beyond human conception mastery and mystery of

JIARWAD BHAGAVISHNIVAD has left some scholars wondering: "WTF"

Virtually almost hardly nothing is not nearly known whatsoever about this truly enigmatic character of mythical proportions. I happened to find an manuscript a few years ago that gave me some idea about how far-out were the techniques of this dude. The book was only about 13,000 pages long but i read the first half in less than 8 years. By the time, I'd reached the 83rd chapter, I realized there was a cypher wedged into the strange narrative that was impressively unsolvable by machines and humans alike. I spent weeks studying the cryptic codes but it was obvious that the information was much more advanced than anything I would ever be able to comprehend. There was also that weird book chapter about Asad al Fahd and the connection between Persian musical proclivities and the intermingling of these styles with the north Indian traditions. Well, essentially Asad al Fahd and Jiarwad Bhagavishnivad are believed to have played a duet in the legendary "Hall of Records" located under the front paws of the Sphinx near Cairo in Egypt. This would have taken place in June or July of the year 1889, but there is no way for anyone to confirm whether or not this actually ever happened.

Anyway this book changed my life. I didn't want anyone else to find and read it and learn all of the amazing rhythmic secrets it contained so I burnt the son of a bitch a couple of months ago. If anyone knows anything at all about Jiarwad Bhagavishnivad, please tell me everything. And if you have or know anyone who has ever seen a photograph of the man, it is a holy imperative that you get me in touch with this.

SERVANTs of SIROZON....chapter 2

Suck the Dagger of Purple Fumes releasing. Where the Raging Magma Ejaculates

into the Air in Foaming Force and the Froth of the Vacuum exceeds and then keeps on exceeding. Hermes pretends to hear the Bricks in the Stars of the Rainbow Ruin or the Blue Quivering Spice in his Spells. And there again in the churning abandonment of all Reason, caressing the night winds on the Mountains of Mastery, there also is SIROZON in a cloak on a throne of Perpetual and Perfect Rapture never ending. In the Sacred Grove, where the chanting jewels and the cackling crystals of forever rejoice in their majesty, let the powders sublime and elegant elixirs supply us with power, endless dominant sparkling endless Superior Power of the Highest variety, enthroned in Sacred Eruptions of Perfection !!!

We seriously Throttle the Curve of Space on the backward-spinning Decaying Discs of Destiny. Solid was the door which melted before, when we seated ourselves in the Coach of the Boar, careening between the walls of the cave, majestic again in granite and blessed with the cool glaze of a flustered Ruby breeze. Whereby these in the So-Called Comet of Rotting Fleshes, where a Jackal slept or made its way, the billowing black coughing chokes the gray skies of Heaven.......

Servants of SIROZON....chapter 1

Infinite is the power of SIROZON and his power exceeds in the radiant glory of Everlasting Eternal EXXYLCROTH !!! The Sapphires in the Roaring Rare Forests of Infinite Insanity commence to expand in Cataclysmic vapors of Delirious Delight. All Spasmic wonder collides in Unison as the this hour of our power and the luscious porcelain vibrance of all telepathic magnitude brings up fresh flowing flames from the fountain of the the fast-floating future. The Delightful Dreams which Drip like Daggers from the Whispering Moons of Oblivion are always calling the Names of our Perfumed Mountain Engine. Then Thus those 40 and 11 and 15 true names afloweth evermore in Diamond Canopies Aglow, until seasons withering collapse in a Nebula of Visions almighty and glorious!! Toward naked stars or the serpents entwined, with the Emerald Carcass of the Hydra-Headed Hermaphro-Hawk Hovering within the swimming liquid Pearl of Squirming Destiny, Let those chanting rubies hiss their mellow plans for eternal perpetual everlasting infinite grandeur...

Fear not, my Lovely little children of rarest Exxylcroth. Fear not to tread through the smoking bricks in the Empire of Fire, for the feasting Falcons Fly Furiously at dawn in the Holy Wind of the Temple of our Masters of Endless SIROZON.....remain in the power and the charming vapor of those only our angels at dawn in the Horizon of Sirozon, holy nectars flow forever....And neither fear to taste the harmonies in Lightning writhing, in the sizzling musics of the Potion of Power within that sacred Dynasty of Heaven's Heaven in the Heavens Heaving Heavy Hymns into the Galaxies Forever!

Whence Thither Floweth Trapezoid? My Prettiest in the Mirror, Blowing Mythical Magic at my face....Come Gently toward the Cone. The Stars' Grace in Space !!!

THE CATHEDRAL

Twenty thousand trumpets Scream,
The Terrible Bricks in Alignment Glitter,
Theirs are Dimensions in Holiest Formation.
What sequence Persists forming Monumental Shadows
and Breathless Sepulchral Views, A hundred times true-
Bony-Eyed Gargoyles teeming on Towers,
Vaulted and Arched,
Stretching for Sunlight in the optimum gloom.
Here while our chanting brothers resist the poking
Gentle Spears from ABOVE, the catacombs Whisper
soft Stagnant meadows of Sin !!

(Unto Again) E J A C U L A !!!! ( or "Spiral Naked Bitches)

Dark Gods Stagger forth, Forgetting the Froth in the Basket of Blood.
What Left they behind or rather Wherefore burnest thou THINE Entrails in
Blonde Museum Veranda,
Unto the Pagan Subterfuge and thus UNTO Depths of an Island Soft,
This Hymnal ever-floating Pretends to drift within our bending
Mirrored Chambers unto the seething orGan beyond the great Steps
of Salvation's FIRES of Raging Trapezoid confections, unto which
Dazzlement performs its Dance in Spiced Holy Shadows of an
Elaborate Spewing Statue. The Radiant Blood !!
E J A C U L A !!!! E J A C U L A !!!!
Produce thy Starry Filth on the quivering WAFER,
That of Embracing Rapture on an VOLCANIC DISC !!!
Unto Which Spiral Naked Bitches

Thanks Tomas for helping me get the FAKTUM seller authorization

First they wouldn't let me sell Faktum, street-mag......but Tomas eloquently told them how desperate is my situation. So I thank Tomas.....now I'm gonna be making some loot.

I'm really digging these Bernini Sculptures.....these ecstatic religious ladies, swooning, and then the massive baldaccino. That's some impressive stuff. One of the angel faces started to speak to me in psychic wind

Remastered King Crimson

Should I feel guilty about remastering one of the greatest albums of all time? how about editing it too? No, I feel great. this new version of "Islands" is the sphinx's tits. I've put the big high quality mp3's into Audacity and savaged them all up. Yes, I cranked them up using both bass boost and the amplify option. On "Formentera Lady" I mercilessly hacked the entire first 4 minutes off, tightening the composition, giving it a truly "1 tenth of the way through the 21st century" feeling. It's so much more "tram-Friendly" now.....just think, with all that tram noise and then the cars going by and people talking and the fact that i don't have huge headphones that block out the sound of all the strange humanoid sounds going on out there, that shit is hard to hear.....If the Crim people won't make it loud, i guess i had to. I also excised the first 4 minutes of the title track.....it's too sensitive for these times. and that part where Fripp says something like " once more with the oboes, then once without...." yeah, i put a huge delay on that, and it sounds real groovy-like. Needless to say, "Sailor's Tale" soars much higher in my remaster, and i really cranked the slowed down mellotron outro doom part

Benjamin Britten.....I can almost tolerate hearing an English opera

I'm keeping myself distracted by discovering the music of Britten.....never even gave it chance before. usually english language sounds so weird when sung operatically...to me.. but then there was Purcell. and actually Stravinsky's "The Rakes' Progress" was good....It was time, I determined to start listening to operas that i didn't already know. starting with Strauss's "Arabella" and "Daphne", and moving on to Puccini....I just grabbed at random Britten's "Death in Venice" it's incredible actually.....Death in Venice very striking, Turn of the Screw quite mad....it hasn't really sunk in very far yet, but i'm also reading a biography too, so just introducing myself It's really interesting to determine what sort of repression the guy was dealing with early on, with sexual what not and what have you, that should be central to any talk of the man I hope, but one can become curious about the role of libido in creative enterprises.. ........otherwise, The freezingness of Göteborg is keeping me from enjoying any casual strolls. all walking is done with definite destinations in mind, and there is no stopping to admire the beauty of anything really, except that one oddly striped poodle manifestation