The Land Was Not Ours
NOTE: starting with the usual note about blah-blah where it came from & when it was written & all that — if I said it was originally inscribed in us about 400 years ago would that work?
Author Archives: chaosmology
It Happened One Winter
sleeves rolled around rigid wrists clenched teeth writhing twisting needles plunge backroom grunge gargoyle fists firmly set amid waste waiting for the main lines whispered backstage aside alabaster sentinels blinding icy stains collapsing veins mined for all time in a lost bloodline and thus we arrive complicit complex redacted wrecked barely alive and yet
Many Splintered Things
Cards on Tables The post said not to spindle or fold but I thought it would be nice to hold open hands and present you with a heart as it was withdrawn from the deepest part Still beating and bleeding and seething with desire to go further than that initial awkward meeting of the
2050: How They Saved Their World
Dispatch from two Matrices over… They had it bad, really bad, kind of like our BAD! but with one important difference: they refused to let their fear and cynicism overtake their sense of responsibility and, dare I say, love for their world and their future. The message received through the portal (which keeps opening
Full Metal Straw
Dispatch from one Matrix over… There have been so many atrocities in recent weeks that it’s hard to focus on any one of them. This dizzying effect obviously is part of the plan, or the lack thereof, to keep everyone off balance and destabilize as much as possible before any pretense of a guardrail
Apocalypse On-Demand
It’s the end of the world, but you might hardly know it. Sure, there’s the inconvenience of being mostly stuck at home, making do with a bit less and rationing a bit more, and foregoing most of our exterior social interactions. But let’s face it: for many people right now, our streaming services are
Dom and Dahmer
It all started about a decade ago with that massive petrol rig explosion that darkened the skies over the entire hemisphere for about a month. Actually, it had started even before that, thought Dom, but I was too young to realize what was really happening. Still, that substrate conflagration set off a chain of
The Working Dead
I’ve noticed a not-too-subtle shift in recent years that seems relatively minor but is perhaps quite revealing of larger trends. People rarely seem to ask the question anymore, “what do you do for a living?” Instead, it’s usually expressed in more transactional terms as, “where do you work?” or “what’s your job?” By itself
The Man in the High Casino
This is an alternate reality, Phillippe reminded himself, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. He had to keep affirming this in his mind, or he could easily step on one of two related but opposite landmines: he could fail to take the dangers here seriously and thus perish at their hand, or he
Low Songs
Streaming on a Loop I saw the worst minds of your generation Well, fucking everywhere Madmen in plastic pouches Clutching petroleum purses On pleather couches Counting fortunes fueled On broken backs And acrid stacks Pushing brinks in the night Where forty winks nod To the fall of all As pens run out of ink
A Fine Dust
We were never here not really even When it seemed so real so touching Feeling like we were in charge living Extra textured double shot large late Capitalist latte lives driving through Wanton lines with ordered appetites Upon on-demand sides of fetid flesh Jazzed up with freshly stewed dark Matters in skewered sleeves so
Adieu Anthropocene
Well, it was “fun” while it lasted! Sure, we tried to impose our will on the world and render the biosphere uninhabitable… But everyone makes mistakes now and then. Still, despite the judgment by Blue-Ribbon titans that we fell short of the mark (mainly because we had made so many marks that it was
Do It Yourself Together
The politics of not giving a whit In defense of a strategic apathy Resist the weaponization of reality Refuse to participate in dependency Unsettle the induced hegemonies Decapitalize the inherent fallacies Reclaim autonomy through absence Fail to show up for the compulsory Stop pretending to even care Abolish obvious dissonance There’s nothing actually there
Space Cowboys
Wrangling with the Final Frontier There was a time in my adult life that I wanted to be an astronomer, following the usual boyhood dalliances with aspiring to be an astronaut. From my earliest memories I was fascinated with the stars—but more so the concept of them than the studying thereof, which made the
Saving Sacred Spaces
{NB: Reposting this piece from 2011 in memory of my friend Klee Benally, who walked on from this world right before the calendar turned. Klee was an ardent defender of the people and the land, tirelessly dedicating himself to critical causes expressed through an incredible range of living arts and media. Some of the