Pages from Charles Doria’s ongoing and perpetually changing works “Pythagorus” and “Numerus.” Investigations into Gamatria, Pythagorean math, hieroglyphic communication, and Giordano Bruno’s “Atria” from “De Imaginum, Signorum et Idearum Compositione.”
From Charles Doria’s introduction:
"Pythagoras is my attempt to begin a dialog that embraces many semantic groups: letter, number, sign, story, a multiphase one that transcends all boundaries, mental, emotional, political and geographic, that circumscribe and dictate perception and identity"
Wows! Check it out in our new online store.
Part of the trifecta of itself, the new magazine, and the Imagination supplement released this past month by Pleasure Editions.
A hundred times already the sun had leaped, radiant or saddened, from the immense cup of the sea whose rim could scarcely be seen; a hundred times it had again sunk, glittering or morose, into its mighty bath of twilight.
Baudelaire was born on April 9, 1821. Read his prose poem “Already!”, translated from the French by Aleister Crowley,
From the Journal of Albion Moonlight
by Kenneth Patchen
There—is something horrible.
There is something to turn us mad.
The water comes up around us. But it is not water. It is feeling your hand but you won’t say I have a hand because you cannot believe it. I know this because there is a habit in me. My habit is love.
Suppose for a moment you are a dog looking at me. I will not kick you. Don’t slink away. You see, we are all on the water but there is no need to build a boat because it would be burnt in an instant. I know history. There are many names in history but none of these names talks because of the water which fills them.
A man walks across the fields beneath my window. The left side of his face is bright yellow.
My mother took me into the country. I saw a tiny horse asleep under a willow . We did not take him home.
The hand of someone moves over my throat. I have no fear. My sex is quiet. A whale with a sad smile swims past me. The waves are red as blood. The human race has bled to death here. A great steel coffin churns through the water. There are buildings falling. I am cold. Put your arms around me.
by Rose Drachler
Cymbals or a violin,
there was a noise before I woke.
Now it shakes the air.
Only the sound
It glows here.
Someone has been here.
My mouth tastes sweet.
Someone has been here
and is gone.
If you don’t know, Pleasure Editions has a new store, new titles, and more to come soon! Perfect gifts for yourself, a friend, a lover, an enemy, or someone you don’t even know. Good to read, hide, bury in the backyard, stare at wistfully, or to contemplate in a religious ecstasy.
Share a cola with it. Let its hand touch your own hand in a mirror. Forget to wake up from its dream…
or at least—check it out!
"I want it understood that only the avant-garde of intelligence preoccupies me, and not all the schools this avant-garde fits into.
I dread the day when the name of the invention—which is a phenomenon of commodification—overshadows the reals search for transgression.
I love perpetual effort and risk of every kind, whether it is fighting against rules or against the nature of things.
Throughout my life, I have had no other goal than to be an extermist, at that battlefront which alarm clocks suggest even as they lure us into the traps of life.”
Paris, July 1950
Gabriel Pomerand, from “Saint Ghetto of the Loans” Translated by M. Kasper on Ugly Duckling Presse. Highly recommended.
ANNOUNCING the WINTER 2014 issue of PLEASURE a journal of the arts!!
$12 SHIPPED in the USA /// 84 pages + a shiny full-color wraparound cardstock cover AND
WRITING by David Ball // Konrad Becker // Tom Bubul // Mark Iosifescu // Pierre Joris // M. Kasper // Robert Kelly // V Manuscript // Henri Michaux // Gabriel Pomerand // Arielle Saiber // Benjamin Swift
ART by CF // Carlos Gonzalez // Erin Guy // Hendrik Hegray // Nick Hurwitz-Goodman // Esra Padgett // Clayton Schiff // Charlotte de Sédouy // Thom Sullivan // Mickey Zacchilli
COVER ART by Keith Waldrop
There always remains a difference between the measure and the thing
measured, no matter how close together they may come…The intellect is to truth as the polygon is to the circle: just as the polygon, the more sides and angle it has, approximates but never becomes a circle, even if one lets the sides and angles multiply infinitely, so we know of the truth no more than we can grasp it as it is with any true precision.
"You may conceive the difference in kind between the Fancy and the Imagination in this way, —that if the check of the senses and the reason were withdrawn, the first would become delirium, and the last mania."
7 pages from “The Book of Gates,” A collage narrative of tiny proportions brought to you by Pleasure Editions! To be released in facsimile in 2014 along with MANY NEW RELEASES coming soon. STAY TUNED. <3
Zine:: $5 :: VERY RARE. The Psychical Keystones: New and Selected Poems of Eric Ripert. ONLY 7 COPIES LEFT. Get them before cooking is officially abolished. BONUS: INTERVIEW from GQ Magazine. Paypal $5 to email@example.com ::100% REAL.
fr. “Preparation of the Carp”
a rat with eric’s head
strolls about Broadway
he tells your fortune to the great dane
who in turn lets you keep his white paw print
upon your heart forever
your location will be tracked
I have created perception in you only in order to be the
object of my perception.