Friday, July 27, 2012

Bitter Living Through Paranoia...

*chromogenic print

post cards from the future 
...with simultaneous remote greetings
from behind the orange curtain
and correspondent accompaniment electrically notated by
Ohi Rucecky Collective 
this is a very old formula
sadly cynical for a long time

still have some hope...but... lots of shitty humans out there

don't worry...everything will be day someone will be poking through the petrified remains of our trash and wonder what happened to us....

that's if there's anything tangible left to be dug

...maybe the whole thing will be a radioactive, scorched layer of rock....

hope to be a radiated super mutant specie that lives in harmony with the universe

given the track record, i'd say a pile of ash is far more likely

if i float still in one spot...i would reach you in 3 hours

sweet dreams

*chromogenic print

Friday, January 20, 2012

NeW THeMeS iN SEMioTiCS - ceci n'est pas un drapeau

"The Department of Justice Web server hosting is currently experiencing a significant increase in activity, resulting in a degradation in service. The department is working to ensure the Web site is available while we investigate the origins of this activity, which is being treated as a malicious act until we can fully identify the root cause of the disruption."

you can't shake the devil's hand and say you were just kidding.
the forefathers were too stuck up to even be british, manifesting a destiny of raw material and labour. and money. cashed in less than two hundred and fifty years later, the american people have been sold out. if all those indians didn't die, how could one be thankful over supper for the right to enjoy television and buy cheap plastic shit?
it's no mistake the devil is often personified as a business man.
the american dream is for people who are asleep.
if norman rockwell were alive we'd bitch slap him.

The positive element of kitsch lies in the fact that it sets free for a moment the glimmering realization that you have wasted your life. 
-Theodor W. Adorno, Quasi una Fantasia

Sunday, January 8, 2012

LoLLYgAggiNg iN CosTuMe.

alone in the garden
*14 pg.
4in. x 2.63in.

~ a zine ~
* available indefinitely
* no cost
* postage paid
* will ship internationally

punch the clock since you're too tired to punch your boss...

Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They say sing while you slave and I just get bored

-Bob Dylan

Haven't seen the sun weeks
My skin is getting pale
Haven't got a mind left to speak
And I'm skinny as a rail

Light bulbs are getting dim
My interest is starting to wane
I'm told it's everything a man could want
And I shouldn't complain

Conversation's getting dull
There's a constant buzzing in my ears
Sense of humor's void and numb
And I'm bored to tears

-The Raconteurs

..Do you know what the people say?
Plucked from the garden
Of wretched beliefs,
I offer a rose
And smile with harmless teeth.

Then slick back my hair
You know the devil's in there?
Alone in the garden.

-Them Crooked Vultures