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I can’t stress enough the psychological effect of having the words you’ve written bound in your own skin. In having words torn from your mind…
we find ourselves lost in the experience of being the watcher whose subject is unaware of his gaze, which forms the undoing of rational thought, confronted with all the beauty and terror of the other in its natural state.
When I destroy a photograph of someone I feel so fucking good. I want to end everyone’s memories of people, I want to stop people three or four generations down from knowing who anyone was or what they did.
The poetic conjuring of a backwoods haruspex guiding us into the charged experience of encounters with hanging animal corpses, forbidding landmarks, and crumbling ruins deep in the forest.
A notebook left on a bedroom floor, mechanically pinched up and deposited in a numbered plastic baggie by a uniformed man. All that remains of its author beyond fragmented, charred chunks baking on asphalt under the Texas sun.
A “mutilated detective story” set in the exurban hinterlands, NTTN follows two investigators as they listlessly attempt to solve a rash of brutal crimes, using an ominous closed-circuit television station as their North Star.
Drawings of tender, violent, chivalric male intimacy.
An anthropomorphic swan who dreams of flight finds a sequestered community of “adult drawers” who attempt to help her realize her dream.
The downfall of an actor playing Dogbo, an anthropomorphic dog, unfolds in a bleak, noir-tinged Hollywood thriller that disintegrates into sadistic cartoon logic.
The absolute bizarre experiences of touring, noise shows, strange personalities in subculture, and being caught up in the antics of peers.
A wide range of artists from a variety of disciplines deliver sinister incantations.
The Tyrant Queen of Iron City presents us with a bouquet of petty grievances.