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Erased from the Time of Men
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He was right, because during our time there was no one who doubted the legitimacy of his history, or anyone who could have disclosed or denied it because we couldn’t even establish the identity of his body, there was no other nation except the one that had been made by him in his own image… Read more
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Inauguration
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…scratched on the plaster with a pin, formulas of love or revolt, more often of resignation: “Jojo of the Bastille loves his girl for life.” “My heart to my mother, my cock to the whores, my head to the hangman.” These rupestral inscriptions are almost always a gallant homage to womanhood, or a smattering of… Read more
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She Liked the Drifting Away
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Paleopetrology
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11 March 2004. Somewhere amidst the fog of the Net, behind a seemingly forgotten website, in Hyperstition’s password-protected laboratory — a location for exploring a diverse range of subjects from the occult to fictional quantities, from warmachines to bacterial archeology, heresy-engineering and decimal sorceries (Qabalah, Schizomath, Decimal Labyrinth and Tic-xenotation), and swarming with renegade academics,… Read more
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Tax Season
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A Leonine First
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Snow pyramided the old Chevy and drifted deep in the streets, so Miller walked over, feeling faintly ridiculous. Hark ye to the White Bird. Oh boy. In the wind, he chainsmoked, lighting from the butt end of the old the new. The snow flew, though he could see, during lulls, that not much new snow… Read more
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Unquenchable
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“He’s very close to being the shade of the walls, isn’t he, and the shade of the walls is exactly the color of the inside of Rothko’s forearm. That’s the color he always wanted as the backdrop for his paintings, you know. Pale ivory with a slight, yellowish cast, the color of Cellutex.” She pursed… Read more
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Ravaged
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Germans