Rainbow Jackson Part I: An Ethical Universe

by Jack Dump

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released June 1, 2012



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Jack Dump Toronto, Ontario

Jack Dump ascends into Rainbow Jackson, the caustic Demiurge.

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Track Name: An Ethical Universe
I’m an individual. That’s what has been reinforced,
But an individual must accept the burdened course
Of causal calculation made through will
And every other option one must kill
Form branches to a universal sense
Of every option without consequence.

Every infinitesimal moment in my entropy
Crafts another universe trapped inside a memory;
An archive of the thing that came before.
Each data point contains a holy store
Of information, spiralling and dense
From absent moments without consequence.

Because there’s nothing left in present rites,
The fractals rearrange my sense of height.
The molecules erupt into immense
Cascading orbits without consequence.

Feel It

I got a presence in my mind. It motivates my every thought
I used to know it was divine, but now the divination’s not
What it once was.

My understanding shifted fast. I could come up with my own rules.
I launched myself into the past and there I stole the useful tools.

I then emerged from time and space inhabiting a cosmic womb
And I was born into this place and suddenly there was no room
For my ego.

Little baby born without a brain. Little baby born without a brain
Cannot sleep and she’s always in pain
While the hospital staff complain.

See the tears in her bulging eyes? In the wild this baby dies,
But her mama believes in lies
And through the night, the baby cries.

Little baby born without hope. Little baby born without a hope.
Mama forces her baby to grope
30 feet of umbilical rope.

And really mama knows the sanctity of life and death and their equity,
But her doctors work ethically.
Her problems aren’t just respiratory.

Separate it.

I got no vision. I am blinkered by cardboard. I got six holes that filter my thoughts and feelings.
Now I can see in a linear fashion.
All I know is what bounces off my box. Sunshine! Limited photons give me energy surges
Quickly absorbed by the ragged mouth’s vacuum.
My vacant smile! My vacant smile!

Is this a mask or is this another method? What if the face I had was not a good conscience?
Now I can see in a linear fashion.
What if my sense of morals wasn’t a feeling? What if my deeds are positive thinking’s bias
Quickly absorbed by the ragged mouth’s vacuum?
My vacant smile! My vacant smile!

I’m feeling nothing and there’s nothing but me. I’ve got a taste of psychopathy.
I can do whatever I fancy. No wasting time on dinner and dancing.
Surely murder isn’t far away. I can do it ‘cause the people just pray,
But I’m proactive with all of my movements. I am the teacher and they are the students.

I am so giddy now that my body’s a weapon. I can disperse the atoms that enter my pathway.
Now I can see in a linear fashion.
I am a wedge that’s splitting the future’s essence. All the potential falls by the temporal wayside
Quickly absorbed by the ragged mouth’s vacuum.
My vacant smile! My vacant smile!

Fingernails scratch at my back and draw blood, taking it back
To her navel, where it will lie and save me if I should try
Breaking outside all of the doors that bind me to the boudoir
And dismissing what I had found as nothing wholly profound,
Choking on the afterglow.

Fingernails scratch on the scalp and pin me with their intent,
Softly urging thoughts in my head by prickling sensory nodes.
Arcs of gluons dance to my brain and make my paralysis
Surely crippling, never without the pleasure that I derive
Choking on the afterglow.

There’s a boil on the cock of a pastor growing red and inflamed with regret.
When the day makes the stress overwhelming, he touches the tip.
The boil will expand!

When the sun greets his cock in the morning, then the boil will erupt with delight,
Spewing forth all the pus of creation, he touches the tip.
The boil will expand!

Masturbating with a cross. Shitting in the mouth of Christ. Using anal rosary beads. Woooo.

1491. Spain was running out of opium.
It’s so hard to keep your population in the grip of sleep.
So the ships set out to India; all the reds we’re forced to injure.

Chris would follow through on things that Europe was addicted to,
But the west was won on the promise of more opium.
Sugar cane and fabled tobacco made the trade without embargo.

The triangle.

Slaves were soon shipped in (we’ll ride the Easterlies)
All commodities borne to European oddities (to out new land of sleaze)
And the working men were sorted
Per the goods they had exported.

The triangle.

There’s nothing no one ever needed knowing nothing never stops
An in this nothing, something, anything is nothing much to watch.
Light that passes through your eyes is externalized.

Like a telescope, I magnify by breaching size.
Proportion yields to my gaze and then I bathe in microwaves.

I got a lot to get through breaking bonds between structure until matter has ruptured.
And when my corpse shows potential for kinesthesis, my body perceives it.
Light that passes through your eyes is externalized.

I wouldn’t care if you died. You have not been so kind.
I wouldn’t care if you’re sick. You have not earned my trust.

I create holes to fill for those who lack the will
To create holes for those who are not predisposed.

I’ll keep looking forward to celebrity birthdays. They’re gonna make it if they try,
Unless they can’t take it, but then I’ll feel something that day that they’ll die.

All I’ve got left are celebrity birthdays. I hope the stars are doing well.
I feel a kinship, as does the public, to personal hell.

Hollywood Jew.

You like movies, don’t you baby? I will put you in a picture,
But you have to do a little something for me. Don’t resist it.

I was chosen to lead blonde chicks into casting call whorehouses.
It’s a sex trade featuring drugs. Snort some cocaine. Take some Xanax.

I’ve become the last wedge splitting all of the entities.
That includes your bright flesh.
I’m a zipper for you, undoing all of your parts,
Forming millions of strings.
And when you cease to have all the strings in union,
What will you be?

Make a rupture in skin, increasing in diameter,
Letting all of it out.
This wedge gives me a chance to play around with your Viscera,
Draping it on my shoulders.
Feeling so regal, I strut out of the gut.
I’m beautiful now.

I want to die. I want to die ‘cause anxiety makes movement incorrect.
I want to die. I want to die, but I want my death to be an indirect
Consequence of living well.

Empty your inner fluids in a bucket lined with ammonia. Let the sun expose its stamen like radiation on the fecund mixture. After the period of conception, drink the concoction and feel your blood turn to oil. You will move faster than you ever have before. The universe is yours for the taking. I am god of soil. I eat lots of feces because it increases my mineral strength. I refuse to mutate.

I want to die. I want to die ‘cause living far too long would be a sin.
I want to die. I want to die so that other lives and deaths may soon begin
To manifest and dissipate.

Let me pass through universal exits, wormholes, gates and doorways soon.
Let me parse the presence of the space that lies beyond this three-dimensional showroom.

An ethical universe will manifest when I am born or it will soon disappear.
The heavens rend with lustful screams of passion.
Another creation to remind us of what we can create infinitely.

An ethical universe will manifest when I’m alive or it will pass suddenly.
I know it’s there. It must be because I pray
Every night to a probable action which justifies all prayer to begin with.