fredag 30 september 2011

Meum Cerebrum Nocet

Not many people know that the border-island between eggnog and quicksand completely consists of acetylene, and inside the eye of the eccentric cyclone sweeping it's shorelines there's always been alchemical ulsters drenched by unbalanced energies making it's movement patterns very hard to predict.

To portrait the ancient egyptian celebration of the heliacal rising of the dogstar Canis Major of the Eastern Winter Triagle I choose to paint my Knuckleheads a bright silver, simple as that really.

Demonic echoes from the nightside of Eden informs us that on a connected ouija board the tarot cards will all land on the highside.

So therefor, through twin tunnels and twin throats the twin toungue tamer travels to the Tolomeo. Meum Cerebrum Nocet.

tisdag 27 september 2011

Tunnels of Subconsciousness

We found such magnificent powers in the kingdom of the ancient iron, such spiritual enormity. Those great cosmological beings existent before time, who yet lurk in those interdimensional spaces between universes, just waiting for the call to their awakening, prepared to demolish.

Intakes are nothing but tunnels, tunnels in different directions, tunnels leading into the light, but also tunnels leading straight into the dark. A dual carb conversion can easily be poetically compared to the exploration of our subconscious tunnels, a fabrication of parallel tunnels leading right into the very depths of our subconsciousness, an expedition to the backside of the Tree of Life.

Feel free to crawl into those interdimensional wormholes that undermine our prosaic dayside reality, by accessing those tunnels and by redefining our human psyches, the countless remote geographies of the soul will all get an awareness of their own, and finally, when the aliens come, we WILL find POWER to remake ourselves, to become more than human, to become non human, to become protectors of the sovereignty of God and Satan, and we WILL prevail.

tisdag 20 september 2011

The Thirty-Six Headed Chrome Bee Dolphin

At the holy toe of the marmalade mountain parallel golden tornados swept in like atomic camp fires framing the revolving reflection of the rising dawn. Witness the strength, behold the witness. Thirty-six spokes means thirty-six seasons whispered the egg faced oracle, thirty-six doors, thirty-six directions, thirty-six choices. The skies were filled with earthworm faced seagulls forming a five cornered triangle of redemption. The twice born beach buggy ant prince calmly rotated his spinning wheel turning jelly fibers into liquid diamond yarn. No kebab portfolio can save you now. Bruce Palmer III had nothing to do with it, neither had Ray Parker JR.

The five legged toothpaste horse from the deeps of the slime sanctum raised a thousand miles tall sail of led and took off for the galaxy of gravy, at that time every sign pointed in the same direction and I'm not talking about Leonardo Da Vinci’s last supper here, and he's not talking about mine; inside the stomach of the electric pinapple scorpio there's a stranded whale sending out morse codes saying 17" rims, SKF bearings and 5/8-18" threads are so out of style.

The mystery man walked down the buttery sidewalk of my morning toast, on six feet long stilts of crystal he observed the break dancing Norwegian swordsman chasing the corpse-painted children riding bareback along the 16.75 millimeter axel shooting right through the cylindrical nest of the thirty-six headed chrome bee dolphin.

After all magnetic fields had been disolved, after the Musulman orphans had all returned back home it all came down to this; a physical Hindu temple architect is so hard to find. Blood red lanterns deep below the surface glows like a dying cucumber pony's dream, green and red, start and stop, life and flesh, one way or the other we'll all bath tonight.
Sing this text backwards seven times in a row and see what happens, or don't - and see what happens, imagination is nothing but the content of no imagination.

fredag 16 september 2011

Arlen Nesstan Springer Fork

Arlen Nesstan (that only makes sense in swedish) sorry.

This modification is practical for so many reasons; the bike will easily make it through the narrow gates of Valhalla, it would probably even make it through the fence, and...

I could ride it in the McDonald's drive in and park alot closer to the speaker so they can hear me better and manage to get my orders correct.

And it probably still wheighs about the exact same as a stock Springer, I mean since it's now more than twice as long but less than half as wide...

After a solid test ride we both agreed on this fork's fantastic roadholding qualities, and this could never had happened if it wasen't for Stekarn' the genius.

The 1947 title on this bike has a 3" over exemption, so now I only need to figure out an easy way to disguise the remaining 27" extension ...Aah, the future looks long.

onsdag 14 september 2011

The Wings Of Valkyrie's Are Always Intense

I've always loved Springer forks, and my love for them is so strong that every time I put some other fork on a bike it feels like nothing but a temporary technique to maintain the balance, a technique to restore the cosmo-mechanical balance between Sportsters, 45"s, Big Twins and Indians, for example.

But still, when I decided to build a longbike the choice of fork was not an easy one. It was acctually more of an elementary treatise upon man's past evolution, present constitution and future development.

Since I've read in the ancient book of spells that the gates of Valhalla are super narrow this cosmechanical Springer process had to start all over again. This poor 1947 fork has already been slayed and extended 30" but to settle with only an extension, even though it may be a long one, would feel a bit like if Noah made peace with Neptune before he built the ark. And to succeed with this magic mission I needed help, so I spoke with Stekarn' and he was brave enough to take on the task right away. So, now this Springer fork is once again in it's infant stages, what the future holds nobody knows, the wings of Valkyrie's are always intense.

onsdag 7 september 2011

Magick Mushroom Springer Nuts

I hate working with copper, but I had no choice since aluminium possesses no magical powers and I need those powers since this sacred mushroom ceremony is not only medicinal

...But also a very powerful interdimensional journey for the body, mind and spirit.

There is a world beyond ours, a world that is far away, nearby, and invisible.

And there is where God lives, where the dead live, the spirits and the saints, a world where everything has already happened and everything is known.

That world talks. It has a language of its own. I report what it says. The sacred mushroom takes me by the hand and brings me to the world where everything is known.

It is they, the sacred mushrooms, that speak in a way I can understand.

I ask them and they answer me. When I return from the trip that I have taken with them, I tell what they have told me and what they have shown me.

Sand blasted and threaded with 1/2" UNF to fit Springer fork stems, so now you can just bolt them on the top of your fork and follow the mushrooms wherever you ride, pretty trippy huh?