Transmissions des Oubliettes Rouges
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Five People Breaking Shit
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.
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A Useless Piece of Plastic
14 Observations Around Missing GirlsTo be a noise producer (“musician” or “artist” seems less than universally appropriate for practitioners of the discipline; a more neutral term is necessary) is, inherently, to be a pervert. It’s always deviant behavior, always against the grain. But there’s levels to it.
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Something is Rotten in the State of Pennsylvania
Notes on the Specter of Violence Haunting the Eaton Township Weismartthe road from philadelphia to tunhannock erupts into a tableau of arborescent violence; hosts of dryads weaving reds, oranges and yellows, ghost girls reaching out through limbs to arms to branches to fingers to leaves. city-clamor trickles out into a prelapsarian expanse, eden in america.