The Caterpillar: September 2010

Thursday, September 16, 2010

The Caterpillar Dub 18 The Paper That Remixes Itself

This is The Caterpillar Dub, Visionary Ghetto Tabloid asking "Who Are You?" The Caterpillar Dub is a FREE paper, never bought or sold, disconected from gold so free to unfold chimeric ripples of caprice, clouds, cart-tracks and byways of old. Stained-glass sponges, lattices, turrets spires breaths and whispered formulae.

A Poster For Your Wall

The Dubliners - Whiskey in the Jar

God damn, man, turn it DOWN!!!

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - Neon Meate Dream Of A Octafish

Just testing.....

Pulpo del Mediterraneo

Big Fella!

Oscar-winning Octopus

See you in October........

Saturday, September 11, 2010

tHe OcToPuS eDiTiOn - ThE cAtErPiLlAr nO.18

Kollell-lessa, Ochtapas, chameleon prairie pods trigger museum to close our eyes to the octopus rise. These days we tend to cool our tentacles with yogic tendencies. Confused? Go ask Alice, but hey! There's no need to SHOUT! Fun-loving fans dabbing at fun-dubbing bands. Leaving only the great unanswered question - Who ARE You? said the Caterpillar. wHo ArE yOu?! echoed The Caterpillar Dub, aRe YoU? ArE yOu? Echoed The Caterpillar Dub, The Dub, The Dub, The Dub, The Caterpillar Dub - A Visionary Ghetto Tabloid - A Dub - an echo - an echo - an echo...Eight limbs, it climbs, ate clams, it reverberates like an invertebrate pressing its ten tackles into blocks of black ink, it sinks, squirms and seethes, sea-green cephalopod slithering to juddering collywobbling oceanic. Flying from pool to pool styn elada - in our beautiful Greece - heroic home of Minoan transcendent trance extasis taximi lyras you need eight arms just to play it. Vehicular tripods trying to steal the squirming lovers and give them the chop. Ink in the face from eightlegs is mightier than the penchant for seameat. Patanjali meerly folds his two legs in subtle Samadhi. Copious lagoons of Lanugo coated copepods lampooned in Harpoonville Harbourview News – EXCLUSIVE

TO Valis, from the Muses, via the Sutric Jewel Net these syllables are thrown into space – so many dreamthreads and ragged shards of meanings pointed to collective future consciousness.