what is it, do you think, that we see reflected in this submarine’s eyes? is it remorse, accrued through a life in service to Cold War military adventurism? is it a yearning for freedom?
every pulse of active sonar kills thousands of living things, somewhere down the line. even the noise and pressure of propellers cause damage to sensitive biological systems underwater. this is a thing incapable of existing without spilling blood, created to destroy the entire world, glimpsed in a rare moment where it is not destroying life. what expression does it have? is it relief? is it regret? no. it is tedium. it is an unsatisfied and total lust for murder. this submarine is humanity. this submarine is hell
I’ve gone on so many walks and runs since our beloved Minnesota weather turned into this exclusive sneak-peek of spring. Hopefully it will be a true lead-in to seasonal change, and not a cruel trap. But, you know, cruelty happens. So what I’m thinking is: let’s hang out by the waterfall.
Jerry Jr.’s Tune - The Walkmen
Lullaby for you and me.
This is every My Bloody Valentine song playing simultaneously.
I went to a shoegaze show last night and began wonder about an older, deafer version of myself. I wondered “Will my future kids think its cool that I went to shoegaze shows?” and then “Will my future kids even know what shoegaze is?” and then “Will I even have kids, in the future?” and then “Why am I even thinking about this?” mixed with “Why do I like something so much that is so bad for my ears?” and then “::NOOIIISSSEE::”
Fucking starship captains.
cuteness overload. With rocks.
it’s also me
I’ve been reading a lot of J.G. Ballard recently, and he comments in The Atrocity Exhibition on the “deep hostility of the mineral world.” This idea is, of course, deeply anthropocentric, no matter how fascinating. But then there’s the other side: cute rocks. Equally anthropocentric, endlessly cute. I think a good title for this poster would be Atrocity Exhibition.