MUSIC IN PHASE SPACE

Month: July 2024

  • Eschatologies are Existential dissociations.

    Eschatologies are the junkie’s nod to nothingness, a cosmic cut-out, a freefall from the self into the sterile white light of oblivion. They’re the ultimate comedown, the final fix without a rush, the terminal buzz that leaves you cold and alone in the infinite waiting room. Eschatologies, those terminal dreams of a world unwound, are…

  • The Baron Commissar

    The Baron Commissar, his face a map of scars etched by shadows of power and betrayal, leaned in, eyes burning through the young officer. The room, a dank subterranean abyss, was lit by the flicker of a single, bare bulb, casting obscene, writhing shadows on the walls. “You see, my young acolyte,” the Baron intoned,…

  • Democrats and Tech

    In the grand theater of American politics, the Democrats are finding themselves abandoned by their once loyal tech-supporting audience. Picture this: the shimmering beaches of Venice, California, where the promise of a crypto revolution was supposed to bring prosperity. Instead, it’s a ghost town of missed opportunities and empty storefronts. Abbot Kinney, that iconic stretch…

  • “Prometheus Winked”

    Ayn Rand, in her manic, Nietzschean fever dream, concocts a fable of the market as Olympus. Prometheus, a proto-capitalist titan, is no selfless savior but a cunning speculator. He filches fire, not for mankind’s enlightenment, but to corner the warmth market. As the world shivers in a neo-liberal ice age, our hero basks in a…

  • Monstrous Offspring

    The machine, our monstrous offspring, spews forth its digital detritus, a toxic sludge of ones and zeros. We are drowning in data, a deluge of information that leaves us intellectually constipated. We’ve traded the mystery of the unknown for the certainty of the superficial, a world flattened into a screen, a universe reduced to clickable icons. The machine promises enlightenment, but delivers only a…

  • Mason & Dixon

    The flickering neon of a roadside diner cast a sickly green glow on Mason’s face. The Pennsylvania night crawled with static. Fireflies blinked like short circuits in the swamp, and the air thrummed with unseen frequencies.  He tapped a manicured nail against the chipped Formica, the rhythm echoing the digital thrumming in his pocket – a bootleg newsfeed pulsing…

  • EXIT

    Flickering reality screen, a million flickering faces – The World Theater. Neon promises crawl across the marquee, a carnival shill barking come-ons for dreams pre-packaged in cellophane. But the exit, man, the EXIT – a rusted fire escape,barely two rungs wide, wobbling precariously over an abyss of black noise. The sucker, see? Blinded by the glitter, mesmerized by the spectacle. Counts the plush seats, the depth of…

  • Westphalia

    You pry the jetlag from your skull like a stubborn limpet. A month in the sprawl of Westphalia, that tangled knot of history and grit, and here you are, back in the neon-drenched hyper-reality you call home. Westphalia, with its chipped chrome and flickering vid-screens, its shadows clinging to the corners like bad code –…

  • Powertrip

    The delusion of untainted power, chum, a roach skittering across the circuitry of the naive mind. These technologist cowboys, righteousness dripping from their binary beards, think they can ride the power bull without getting bucked into the meat grinder. Wrong. Power ain’t a virus that eats your morals, it’s a psychic filter, a flesh-plated feedback loop that warps your perception. Sure, you dream electric…

  • Musical Golden Parachutes

    The Republican agenda is a carnival of contradictions, a grotesque spectacle where fiscal conservatism is a punchline to ballooning deficits fueled by military largesse and tax giveaways to the elite. They preach small government yet loom large over personal liberties, wielding power like a cudgel in the name of moral authority. Their hymn to free…