(Un)necessary hiatus brought about by having to deal with work that actually counts for something. Unlike the next bit which shall be, most likely, a stilted journey into the unexploded image-land of the recent present. Culminating in me mumbling to a room full of people about something to do with this: ‘The artists must destroy galaxies. Capitalist institutions. Boxes of deceit. You stinking fucking cigar smoking bastards and you scented fashionable cows who deal in works of art.’ Metzger 1962
What with the success of the volcano maybe we should be excavating other mythologised and over-written historical modes of natural critique. Enter the Kraken.
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