MUSIC IN PHASE SPACE

Category: Uncategorized

  • A Palimpsest of Power

    The Middle East has always been a battleground, not merely of armies but of narratives, symbols, and structures of meaning. Its history is a cyclical tragedy: every civilization that enters it—whether Macedonian, Roman, Ottoman, or Israeli—comes armed with the conviction that they can succeed where others have failed. Yet, time and again, they are unmade,…

  • Aleppo

    Somewhere north of the rotting heart of Aleppo, where the roads are just suggestions and the sky is the same dull gray as the mortar dust, the Pentagon’s militia went to war with the CIA’s boys. It wasn’t news to anyone on the ground, least of all the fighters pulling triggers with American ordnance, but…

  • Rover

    The screen flickered again, its harsh blue glow casting jagged, angular shadows across the cockpit. Rover Unit R-VR07 adjusted his position within the cramped confines of the escape pod, his articulated limbs whirring softly against the silence. Somewhere deep within his titanium chassis, algorithms churned in quiet frustration. They found no solution. The barren rock…

  • Firestarter

    Scene: Boardroom, Stratodyne Aerospace Headquarters, circa Now The conference room shimmered with chrome surfaces and LED screens, a mausoleum for billion-dollar decisions. Aloysius “Al” Riparini, CEO of Stratodyne Aerospace and occasional reader of Popular Mechanics, slouched in his ergonomic chair like a sullen Apollo.  He forward, hands steepled, his face carved in the grim expression…

  • This Wellness Is Making Me Sick

    This is the excellent foppery of the world, now repackaged and sold as salvation in kale smoothies and overpriced yoga mats, a snake-oil gospel for the overextended and underwhelmed. When we are sick in spirit—a surfeit of our own consumption, both material and digital—we make guilty of our ennui the gluten, the GMOs, the “toxins”…

  • The Ghost of Mittelbau-Dora

    Von Braun’s steel-tipped dreams hum with blood and gasoline. A factory of shadows, all twisted spines and raw hands—dying by the hundreds, whispering curses in languages he never cared to learn. “Build me a ladder to the stars,” he says, boot heels clicking on the concrete, the sound swallowed by the choking wheeze of the…

  • Apocalypse Warm-Up Tour

    In the sweaty corridors of Washington, there’s a palpable unease. The clock ticks louder in the Situation Room, and the tension feels thicker than a barroom floor after a two-for-one night. The problem, you see, is not just the impending doom of World War III—but where it starts. Ukraine’s got the spotlight for now, but…

  • NPCs

    An NPC, the non-player character, the digital ghost in the machine, a ledger of actions, transactions, and transient histories. Each pixelated husk a monument to overwrite—a forgotten thing replaced by consensus, a network-dreamed figment, rewritten without memory. You see them standing there, loop-bound, shuffling through canned dialogue, placeholder souls for a system too busy grinding…

  • Pure, Uncut, Imperial Lunacy

    The new breed of tech cowboys, high on venture capital and zero-interest loans, are suddenly feeling the heat, and it’s terrifying to watch. These clowns have been riding the free-money carousel for so long they’ve forgotten what it’s like to sweat. Now, the moment the cash dries up, their first instinct is pure, uncut imperial…

  • Cape Crusader

    Ah, the tawdry spectacle of American hypocrisy in its purest form: a bloated fraudster wrapped in the flag, clutching a Bible, and preaching fire and brimstone to the unwashed masses—all while slinking into the nearest Holiday Inn with a mistress on speed dial. For X—serial adulterer, purveyor of NDAs, and self-anointed Christian crusader—it’s all part…