Stories For Simone

Pontoon and Swathage:

"They may not be the most obvious entertainers and they are certainly not the loudest, but if you can seek out a story-teller or a halaka, you are in for a treat and an old one at that."

Ham Fed Watermelon

Hey Lordo: The rainfed cultivation of watermelon is an important source of income for many bedouin in the study area. They are cultivated in raqueba (small arms of the wadi) in the area between small check dams called halaka or in depressions with deep semina soil which collect a great deal of water(ardbaaly).

Halaka tabang!

Stevadore, Carman, and Alegro:

“What does Anghel na Walang Langit means?” the little prince asked. “Halaka tabang! Sosmariosep! Wala ka kasayud unsay pasabot ato”, the girl said. “Please explain it I can’t understand. I can only speak one language”, the little prince begs. “O.K. I’m sorry. It means you can’t understand what is Anghel na Walang Langit. I’m really sorry”, the girl said.

Halaka: SuperStar

Melvin Blue:

"i tried to vote vor SHAHD but the line was not working.ALHAMDOULILLAH onno wslit la akher halaka, ou inshalla hyee superstar
Posted by: ayman at January 31, 2006 05:57 PM"

Don:

* Halaka is a space marked off and usually terraced, within wliicli sacred functions were carried out. In the Mahavihura |Tissarama,t at Anuridbapura there were 32 malakas. Dip. 14. 78; Mah. 15. 192. The pocred BodM-tree for instance was surrounded by a malaka.

THE GREAT CHRONICLE OF CEYLONilalt tot jfcoctetg

Terrance:

* Halaka is a space marked off and usually terraced, within wliicli sacred functions were carried out. In the Mahavihura |Tissarama,t at Anuridbapura there were 32 malakas. Dip. 14. 78; Mah. 15. 192. The pocred BodM-tree for instance was surrounded by a malaka.

THE GREAT CHRONICLE OF CEYLONilalt tot jfcoctetg

halakah

Lape:

The word halakah can also be used colloquially to refer to normal or accepted behavior

Sonicationator

Henser's Square Normal:

7. A method of sonication comprising the steps of:

(a) converting an electrical energy wave into a vibrational energy wave with a vibrating element;

(b) contacting a vibratable member with said vibrational energy wave to generate a standing sonic wave across said vibratable member; and

(c) contacting a test sample with said standing sonic wave,

Method for generating a standing sonic wave, methods of sonication with a standing sonic wave, and a standing sonic wave sonicator

rules

"If her swallowing his semen gives her pleasure, then who's to say it's not following the rules of Halaka?"

letters?

I'm not sure whether I should be scared of this or not.

Halaka:

Ie spelled it right, but the you didn't read it, and then the consideration for a new "medal of Nobel prize" was once again denied me because of your god damn control over the entire civilization through the means of your satellites and the rockets you are launching withe towers that aren' ot actuall for cell phoen. I will howver continue to market my research into "brain eating phenemenum waves" and the way they are being used to make obsolute all of our best working men and weomsn and how they are used to deny us our immortlity which is our god given ability to as human bein. I have evdidence that we are able to live for ever or at least hundresds years longer than we now living and it is because 'science" has told us so! You can continue to deny me the awarding of the "medal of Nobel prize" because I know you will beut even then you will not be able for long to keep secrete things you are doing to prevent us from our god givens and that you are doing to maintian your own will of powers.

This is a warnsing, Ted

Tearing out my hair again

Albert Or Steve:

Your Moon Is Never As Bright As You Thought It Was, or so Police Helicopter would have you believe. However, you can sit there and gradually disperse into the backwards environments while hearing the sort of repetative, but somehow hypnotic, stand-up bass figure, accompanied by some constant, slight, quiet barrage of something that's probably single guitar notes flipped over backwards. Minimal, in the sense that there's not much going on.

They (he?) enter(s) a different sclaptration altogether with Say You Will, which is also minimal but this time consists of a... ? Some kind of plucked string sort of thing, possibly a bass guitar plugged straight into something, though that's not really what it sounds like to me. And a vocal. And some singing. Sort of primordial stuff. In Architecture it's almost more clear that I'm hearing a guitar. With everything sucked out of it but the bass tones. And that's all I'm hearing.

Sapless is one of his favorites he ever made. I can see why. Minimal again, but this time more viscous, with ominous repeated bass dronings and some rhythmic backwards treble-stuff. This one's worth hearing, as is the first one I mentioned. Beyond that I'm not sure. I'm gonna stop listening now.

Moving more horrendously toward a fiery death, without even listening to anything I'm all over The Secret Goldfish, who doesn't like the name of itself. They/he are/is "anti-music and anti-recording." So you can't beat that.

Though it's tempting to be anti-listening to them/him, I'm going to go with my guts and see where the juice lands. without tracks, trains are as lost as you or me is lovely and peaceful, and way more differenter than I suspected. This reminds me of Rain Theory; lots of clean, echoing, reverberating guitars. Backwards guitars run in and out, long, slow, e-bow-y stuff haunts the background. There are clicks and pops coming and going; they become more prominent as the song progresses. There's clearly something falling apart here, and the lefts and the rights decide to diverge along their own paths. This is brilliant.

chainsaw is a little disappointing at first, as i'm hearing that goddamn plugged-in-acoustic sound. But the song is crazy, weird, and catchy all at once. Vocals this time, quirky and unique. I'll give it a pass, even with that goddamned guitar sound. setting sail in large vessels is another great one, instrumental again and with much better sounding guitars than that last.

Let's just say you're better off if you go listen to all of this stuff, especially if you're into the mellow, raining, thought-or-trance inducing liquidity that I'm into. the lutz carillon is chilling, gradually building its offkilter effectedness until you can imagine what might be blood on the hotel walls. throw those sorrows out the window; the rainy days can't touch you adds some strange percussion over in my right ear to the layers of distorted and clean guitar atmospheres. There are also some bells. Bells. Chimey. Bellthings. This guy is probably eating meatballs on top of the moon, is what I think.

I've Just Realized Something...

My recent headings here (hell, maybe always), sound like the stupid titles for question categories on Win Ben Stein's Money. What a cinch-sack that makes me. I've recently come to hate those, though I hate them more, I think, for the fact that the morons in the audience are apparently forced to laugh at EVERY SINGLE TITLE that they use on that show than for anything to do with the titles themselves. They just exist, and don't, and do.

So what's this about? The Pornographic Priestess CD tears all of my monkeys off all of my walls. There's a track on there called O, Jesus that would fit nicely right up next to any of a number of (released or otherwise) halaka tracks.

What else is this about? I've slumpishly not been discovering anything new lately. I'm still missing the random streamingness of some of the mp3 sites in their haydays. Hey. Dey.

The telephone connected to no one is ringing.

Nothing Clever

This will come out looking horrible, as do all entries made in this fucked up new blogger interface that sticks paragraph breaks randomly wherever the fuck it wants, regardless of what... fuck... sendup squirt bottle Shemp is fucking dead.

So if you're creeping around here (and I don't know why that would be,) and you're not already aware (doubly), the halaka website has been shat back out into the disgrateful wild word wheat. Mitch has been busily reconfiguring the unconfigured and disembracing a whole gaggle of dead geese. Just be plaster. The official announcement of the official rebirth is forthcoming. You won't have heard it here, ever.

Old favorites Pornographic Priestess have got a new CD available. Go ask for one. Also, they've got an officious looking website.

Suck this, blogger.

What do you want, a Wookie?

Property Transfers

...
FALL RIVER
...
700 Shore Drive Unit 205. $171,500
Naguib J. Halaka to Susan A. Wright

Although we didn't March, we shall April

Bubby and the Flies:

"And you will say 'I want to eat meat.'" [The word 'I want to eat'] is written without a 'vav' [Heb. achlah] which is similar to the word meaning 'I will destroy.' [Heb. akalah] This means that he desires to destroy and break his desires for physical things, which are called [in this verse] 'meat.' The meaning of this is that it is always the case that the desire of the soul is to destroy the desire for physical things. The holy Torah* teaches us that all his actions should only be to fulfil the will of his soul, which is learning Torah, doing mitzvos, good deeds and the fear of HaShem. From doing that he will break and nullify his physical nature.

(http://www.chassidus.net/reah.htm)

Also please to be keeping in mind that the state of our being able to find relevant obtuse musics for your persusement is directionally improportionate to the singly underhanded destruction of the whollity of all of the once thriving, free mp3 sites.

In the absense of any description, or relevance, or calamity, let's:

Okay, sure, nevermindthen.

Oh how the Nifty have Crawlen

TickleJelly wants you to put the beer in the refrigerator. It's okay, you can do it.

That is all. Leave me now.

found again what never weren't lost

Bartleby and the Pig:

Madhog, surfacing briefly from his many-years long pigrimage to Swahir in the middle of the East, exclaimed:

I FOUND HALAKA:

Halaka, Afghanistan

HOLY SHIT.

Hell, Together With Its Inhabitants, Will Be Annihilated

Albert and the Famous People:

"The word HaLaKa, on the other hand, is occasionally used to describe death of an individual (40:34), but usually irreversible destruction and annihilation, or total existential extinction of an entity (5:17; 6:6; 6:47; 8:42; 20:128; 21:95; 22:45; 28:59; 36:31; 69:5; 77:16)."

I have variagated and become also part of Spiral Galaxy Collision. "In this awy, we shall be in a state of constant collision with the system of the universe."

Inhale, Intrude, Index the File

It's been months or some time period that stretches between two nails but won't snap. Driven out of the stairwell with the flickering bulb that's more off than on (it's not just the bulb -- the whole place is wired up with this indeterminate sort of electricity, and we all just give thanks every day that the power doesn't stop, or the place doesn't melt down, entirely.) Standing out in the entryway, naked and staring while mezmerizing sounds reverberate from ear to ear. Not sure if they're in me or out.

With a voice like John Martyn after he's swallowed Peter Murphy's psychotic twin brother, Mezmariah presents a full seven songs on Dmusic that should be downloaded, burnt onto a CD, or onto the skin of your upper arms, and displayed for all of your neighbors. There's at once a feeling that you're lost somewhere in the 1970s underground and coming out sometime after the millenium flipped all the numbers covered with cobwebs and followed by some creepy little guy in a hooded sweatshirt. Eosophiles and Eosophobes will both show you what I mean; if you don't love this guy already after hearing either of these two songs then what the hell are ya doing here?

This music is highly recommended, and has received 14 and a half out of a possible pi corpuscles, on average, from halaka's crack(ed) staves. Write home and tell the folks.

Pulling Shards of Bone Out of my Throat

Bonnie and Spiff:

I hate the way this editor works now. I am nearly going to throw in the fucking shitcan and forget using this place. I can never remember how it's going to format it. I DON'T WANT YOU TO FUCKING FORMAT IT, OKAY? CAN YOU JUST NOT FUCKING FORMAT ANYTHING? CAN YOU LET ME FUCKING DO IT?

But anyway, sorry about my recent meltdown. I really had great things to say about them one people. I will try, with my forearm as the treetops, to endeavor to later think about considering some future revisitation rights.

But currently I'm on a different ledge, and scarier place with dark eyes and impacted skin. There isn't a strobe light while I'm listening to the things on matt maddex's dmusic page; it's darker, longer. But there are bright flashes of light, like maybe there's lightning in this little concrete room we're in. Everytime those lights slash like that I'm sure there are things on the floor. I don't know what the fuck's in here.

There are three songs apparently credited to Breaker of Horses. Two really have torn me into shreds: She's probably a lesbien anyway and The Artist:Beaver. In these there are occasional vocals, screamed like it hurts, not out far in the mix. The playing is jagged, drunken, precise yet precisely unconcerned, an abstraction. This stuff holds together like a beautiful statue that someone drove a dump truck into and then tried to put back together with wire and coat hangers.

In the other track by Breaker of Horses, Too arty, for your own good, there's slightly less aggressiveness, more puzzled punches in the dark. There's a voice, here, too, though I'm not sure it's in the recording and not just an artifact of the energy. This shit is strong, and I wish there were more.

There's something else, enticingly titled solo thing(not finished), that makes me assume this Maddex guy is maybe the guitarist for that Horses conglomeration. Or maybe not. There's a similarity here, and this is another frightening, creepy piece of music. There's water splashes at the end that really just freaked me out coming out of the rest of it.

Go get a fix of this shit. Keep the lights on, though.