Acid and Lost Time

The Ache is leaving. Three years languished by dead end jobs, drugs and friends. Last week above a bagel store, the sun morphs mute amidst travelling clouds, indifferent fluctuations of light on an otherwise featureless day. You arrive a tight knot of anxieties over a moment in time that could only have arrived after its departure … More Acid and Lost Time

Fascist Nostalgia, Libertarian Disaffect: McDonald’s as Everything and Nothing

Entry into McDonald’s: sleek glass sliding doors framed by stacked stone walls—the modernist’s indoor-outdoor flow, with the rigidity of austere corporate Bauhaus; and within: strict regimentation of monochrome tables … More Fascist Nostalgia, Libertarian Disaffect: McDonald’s as Everything and Nothing

Disassembling Bodies in the Hyperreal Imaginary: Towards a Solidarity of Impotency

Lost in the circuit of digital connections, my head swims vacant, adrift in a web too vast to comprehend. Utopia has always been a hermeneutic horizon for me, not in the sense of somehow being met, but rather, as an ever elusive … More Disassembling Bodies in the Hyperreal Imaginary: Towards a Solidarity of Impotency

Disney as Mass Psychosis: Spectacle and Necropower in The Force Awakens

Let’s face it, Finn is psychotic. One of the first scenes in The Force Awakens is the death of a stormtrooper. As Finn cradle them, their blank helmets gaze dolefully at one another. Twenty minutes later, Finn fires into a hanger bay full of stormtroopers. “Woo!” … More Disney as Mass Psychosis: Spectacle and Necropower in The Force Awakens

Finitude, Death and the False Gods of Creation: Power and the Subject in Nietzsche and Althusser

Caught in becoming, the subject never becomes. The animal, sunken in immanence, knows only existence as species-being. As a philosophical concept, the animal represents reproduction, the infinite repetition of the same … More Finitude, Death and the False Gods of Creation: Power and the Subject in Nietzsche and Althusser

Suītopī

His arm circling round her waist. Maybe . . . A blare. Sweat of traffic. Muggy afternoon. The sun bounces off every surface, paints the surroundings white. I stand at the corner of the street, feel the pavement seep through my soles. Sesame drifts from the marketplace; cheap soba, oil and soy. A cat stretches on the neighbour’s roof, white fur … More Suītopī