The lunar phase is predominantly a cosmic factor which influences all creatures on the planetoid earth. It has been shown that emotional and intellectual cycles are inclined to vary in accordance with lunar activity (Carrol, L. 1900).
When the moon gets wobbly, earthlings also get wobbly. This is due to an anomalous perturbation of the molecular structure of moon rocks.These rocks described by David Bowie at length in his academic treatise, "Ziggy Stardust" are really the reason lunatics exist.
At the time of the full moon, that is when the moon is opposite the sun, all the molecules gravitate to one side, the Dark Side of the Moon, this is the reason there is no gravity on the moon - at least this is the scientific hypothesis proffered by Pink Floyd.
It is vitally important that an art event such as this LUNATICISM one you are now experiencing, really does, COME AROUND! It comes around and around just like the moon comes around the sun, comes around Sirius, comes around.......................
The consequences of taking part in this event, "and make no mistake you are part of it", is that you will never be the same again.
How do you think you could be the same again?
Everything that happens to you, and something is happening every second of your life, changes you! You can never be the same person one second after another. So if you can never be the same person - Who Are You? When Are You? You Are Not! You do not exist in the sense that you are a permanent solid, stable egocentric humanoid!
You exist only as an event!
Just like this LUNATICISM event, you are the same as this event, therefore if you are anything at all you are a screaming, fucking lunatic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!lunatic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!lunatic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!lunatic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DO-IT YOURSELF PSYCHIATRY MANUAL PAGE 679
["Lunaticism mixed media 1994" by Sandra]
|Post Lunaticism it comes around.
An adventure in three parts.
The wind was blowing. (The long sad wail of a lost dog) Round and round the house. I was drinking hot chocolate in front of the fire in the kitchen when I heard a voice over the loud speaker. DO NOT LAUGH! DO NOT SING! DO NOT PLAY THE GUITAR!! i looked at my guitar in the corner of the room. What should I do? My fingers started to itch. I couldn't believe what I thought I'd heard. Slowly I reached for the guitar. I touched a string. TWaaaNG. Nothing happened. Is tarted to play the guitar. Nothing happened. I continued to play the guitar. Suddenly three banditos with red bandannas tied around their harmonicas rode into my kitchen on their horses and pointed their pistolas at me. Red rays came out from the pistolas and came straight towards me. Suddenly I couldn't move. Suddenly I was starting to glow red. Then my hands started to fade and then 'I' was gone.
When I came to, I was lying on a straw mat in what looked to me to be a small ships cabin. My head felt just like two balloons. I heard footsteps and then I heard the handle of the door turning. Then I saw the door opening. Then I saw the ugliest thing I have ever seen. "Hello" squeaked the ugliest thing I have ever seen. "I'm Bunyip one, and I'm in charge of section threes, move over. Fifty guitars will be brought to you shortly. if you touch any of them I'll cut your fingers off." 50 Bunyips came in with guitars and placed them around the room. I couldn't believe it. Maton, Ovation, Fender, classical, electric and even one autographed by Frank Zappa. Late that evening whilst I was eating my evening meal, i heard a soft tapping noise. One of the boards in the wall swung up and a friendly face appeared. The friendly face told me it had been busking outside 'Ridiculous Prices' in Lismore when he had heard the voice over the loudspeaker. It told me that if i didn't touch the guitars for three days I would be moved to the "rehabilitation might be possible group". This was the group he was in. The friendly face said their was an escape plan. This excited me.
Three days later I was moved to a room with only five guitars. I was given the task of knitting Bunyip bedsocks from Patton's 4ply baby wool in green, pink and yellow. The man with the friendly face was there with three others. He introduced me to the others, Mrs Bird a fifty year old woman with her hair parted on the left, Butterscotch a deaf carpenter and a small boy. Whilst we knitted we talked of our escape.
So folks what will happen next? Will Mr Butterscotch and Mrs Bird get it on together? Will the narrator ever reveal the name of the man with the friendly face? Will 'I' ever escape and what the hell do Bunyips eat for xmas dinner? For the answers to these questions and more stay tuned for the next exciting episode of "Post Lunaticism it comes around".
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