ZXCVBNM

Scalar

Thu, 31 May 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Scalar

Ship In A Klein Bottle

Fri, 25 May 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Ship In A Klein Bottle

Recyclr

Sun, 13 May 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Recyclr

Dumb Hole

Thu, 10 May 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Dumb Hole

On / Off

Mon, 07 May 2012 21:00:00 +0100

On / Off

Mushroom Storm

Fri, 04 May 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Mushroom Storm

Elementa

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Earth

Wind

Water

Fire

Elementa

Carcinogen Garden

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Carcinogen Garden

Sailing The Epileptic Sea

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Sailing The Epileptic Sea

Tempora IV

Mon, 23 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Spring

Summer

Autumn

Winter

Tempora IV

Dropped Upside The Inflating Horizon

Fri, 20 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Dropped Upside The Inflating Horizon

Pastel Plane

Wed, 18 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Pastel Plane

The Hype Machete

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Greetings! My name is Elijah Sheindlinbergstein. I am the CEO of a unique new startup, codenamed iNsuffrblowr. We here at iNsuffrblowr HQ in Palo Alto are very excited about our new venture and we plan to start monetizing our brand as soon as possible in preparation for our eventual IPO.

We recently released an exclusive new 1080p videocast in HD3D and it has already gone viral throughout the blogospherezone and is trending all over the twittertits; though I’m sure you’re all aware of this already, the buzz has been pretty hard to miss!

My colleagues and I would very much like to thank each and every member of our consumer-base and more importantly our shareholders for their undying love and support, without which we would never have been able to get our company off the ground from the humble developer’s drawing board to the market research department via the crowdsourced data flow diagrams and into the amazing world of cloud-based E-commerce and social and stuff.

Our ongoing success is a testament to the tried and tested ethos of hard work, commitment, trust funds and brownosing the right people in the right place at the right time, or as those of us in the iNdustry like to call it, networking.

Be sure to follow us to the ends of human decency on Twitter, subscribe to our YouTube channel free of charge and like us with your heart and soul on Facebook. Also, don’t forget to stalk out our Wikipedia entry, though there is little info on there as yet due to our NDA with the CEO of Fuckr, though we hope to have that deal closed soon in order that we may secure more users for our clean green eco-friendly server. Exciting times ahead!

You can also download our official mobile app for iOS, Android and Windows Phone from their respective app stores, play stores and window gates. Plus, a stunning new app (currently in beta-testing) based on our very own patented hybrid-drive technology will be coming on a tablet near you very soon, so try to contain yourselves!

In other news, I shall be delivering the highly coveted keynote address at this year’s annual World Entrepreneurial Seminar for Unbearable Cunts (WESUC) in Dubai next week. It’s going to be awesome! So make sure you’re sitting comfortably for the live video-stream of this exciting event on our official webpage as well as the live update feed on Twitter or alternatively you could drink your own liquefied shit.

Anyway, I’m off to fuck everyone, ciao for now.

Mash Pit

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

I had an interesting dream the other night. I was stood in a poorly-lit operating room, wearing full traditional surgeon’s garb, mask and all. There before me was an elderly gentleman, unconscious as a caber and naked as the day he was born from greying head to wrinkled toe, his entire mass suspended bottomside-up on a harness. I held - in the dominant of my gloved hands - a medium-sized plastic scoop, and with it I was performing the apparently critical task of shovelling mashed potato into his rear quarters.

I’m yet to make an attempt at interpreting the dream; that endeavour may require some weeks of vacant calendar space.

Parallela Vaccis

Sun, 08 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Parallela Vaccis

Papaveris Canis

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +0100

Papaveris Canis

Tumblrweed

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 21:00:17 +0000

Enough of this. We’ve all said enough. We’re all wrong. Yes, even you. No really. Nobody listens. Nobody cares. It doesn’t matter.

Everything has been said. All has been done. The future may or may not be bright, but it’ll be whatever it is already determined to be. Nobody can change that. Nothing can change that.

Re-Creation [Insipid Remix: Feat. MC No-Ideaz]

There was a time when innovation was the striving of the majority; but that all changed when the world wide web spun into life, squeezing all of culture into a single digestible pill and making it easier than ever to fuse the disparate; so easy in fact that all of a sudden it seemed like far too much work to put in some effort and be inventive, not now that one could so quickly weave together the work of one’s predecessors, creating a weak veneer of originality.

The world wide web has brought all of us together, not, it would appear, to imagine a new universe, but rather to re-imagine the old one. Sharing and remixing our way through the fragmented remnants of modernity to create a people-pandering postmodern forest of faceless fluffy trash-trees, sprouting leaves of regurgitated retro-revival populist pap from silver spooned spongeheads. A culture that was once akin to a seminal symphony of discovery is now a parodical pantomime retelling, available on demand, 24/7, with all proceeds going to a good cause, naturally. Oh and don’t forget to buy this brand new bag of shit that you don’t need on the way out, it’ll only cost you your soul, or what’s left of it.

Junk Culture

This is what the postmodern world looks like. This is what true postmodernism is. The end of the cycle. The death of creation. It’s time to stop pretending that any of the grains of sand in this dehydrated desert of a culture excite us or inspire us anymore. They don’t, we all know they don’t.

Culture has become nothing but a reaction to that which came before, without offering anything but more of the same in return. In this postmodern age, the linear narrative of progress that coloured the world of yesterday has given way to an electric jumble-sale of liquidated nostalgia in sealed plastic containers, cooled for consumption and context-free; not to mention the myriad rehashed revolution-lite platitudes for part-time quasi-radicals and pseudo-intellectual no-faces who like to engage in pedantic anonymous discourse that either plays out like a tennis match with hundreds of balls on court simaltaneously, or a schizophrenic academic holding a fiery debate with the sound of his own voice in an echo chamber.

Nothing new is produced anymore. Instead, all that was once fresh is sacrilegiously diced up into a googol unrecognisable pieces and then repackaged with banal slogans to be pin-balled around the ether in the vain hope that nobody will pick-up on the counterfeit vacuousness of it all. Likewise, no longer do sparks of insight punctuate the exchanges of those who choose to converse; they’ve all traded in their higher brain functions for Wikipedia, and their ability to think on their feet has been usurped by the increasingly tempting vice of copy + paste.

RIP Modernity (We Hardly Knew Ye)

Once upon a time, humankind read by candle light. Then one day, they began to read by the light of bulbs. It was the pinnacle of modernity, it was progress, it was revolution. But now, in this postmodern age, the rules of the game are no longer subject to change, the bulbs just get brighter and the lampshades get sleeker. No revolution, just the steady pace of evolution. If Edison had settled for that, there would be no bulbs, and we’d all be reading by the light of bigger candles. Oh, but I’m sure they would be wonderful candles, and we’d all be fawning over every new candle-odour that materialises, feeling ever so advanced in our world of myriad candle-odours; all the while utterly oblivious to the innumerable possibilities that modernity could conjure.

We are lucky, modernity brought about magnificent changes, some positive, some negative, but all astonishing in their own right. We have light bulbs, we can say that much. But what will our begotten future generations have? Something completely different? Well, I wouldn’t raise those hopes too high; remember, this is the postmodern age, and in this phase of human development, only the familiar will suffice. All we can offer the future generations are brighter bulbs and increasingly expensive electricity to power them with.

The Morning After

We were once a sober species. Cautious. Uninteresting. Very little happened for many thousands of generations. Then, one epoch-making day, we discovered how to make things, and from then on we were drunk with the ale of modernity. The world transformed. It was good, bad, awesome, awful, always awe-inspiring and never ever boring. But as with all lightweights enjoying their first binge, there were consequences; and the time has come for us to face up to them. We are now sober once more, only this time we must contend with the postmodern hangover, the morning that once seemed so far away has broken.

And what is blackbird saying? Well, not much by the sounds of it, after all, everything has been said already. All that is left for us now is the endless recycling of what was once novel; the perpetual reliving and retelling of the events of that wonderful night. And amusing to relive though it is, it’ll never be quite the same; the events may attain greater significance with time, the thrills are unrestrainedly embellished with every retelling, but the night itself can never be recaptured. And really, was it ever all that incredible in the first place? Probably not; just more interesting than what came before, and more authentic than what came after.

tl;dr

Oh yeah, you didn’t want to read all of that, I understand. That’s fine. I guess it’s time to tumble off the path; time to take a walk through the world wide woods that are as yet untainted by the sticky strands of the world wide web. Perhaps some distant haven can be found that is not yet soiled with the draining dysphoria of postmodernity; though unlikely is there to be found a place where the same could be said of the dizzying euphoria of modernity.

So, sweep away the tumblrweed and swallow the last of the poison. Polish off the dusty dregs and bury the boxes of burden. Clear the throat, grab a hat, fetch a coat and pack the sack. Keep eyes and ears alert and wander off the beaten track.

ZXCVBNM

All Things Being Equal

Wed, 22 Feb 2012 21:00:00 +0000

Equilibrium is the cosmic grim reaper. All of what makes the universe the bedazzling spectacle that it is, exists as a consequence of disequilibrium.

Consider the enormous concentrations of mass within stars, offset by the great seas of emptiness that fill the expanses between; it is this wildly variant distribution of energy that allows life and all other magnificent phenomena to exist. However, the universe does not like it this way; indeed it seems unnatural to the basest human intuitions for the universe to have come to find itself in a state of such naked disequilibrium.

For the time being, we know not how the universe initially came to be this way, some thirteen billion seven-hundred million years ago; but we do know one thing, we know that the universe will not stay this way.

Equilibrium it seems, is not only a state to which we as living beings feel drawn, but to the universe too it beckons fervently; this is evident to anybody who has ever noticed the enormous lamp moving through the sky, shining like a gargantuan furnace in the heavens, expelling more energy per second than humanity has come close to expending in its entire history thus far.

As the compacted mass of the great behemoth becomes less and less over the coming aeons, the eventual destiny of our gaseous forbearer is plain for all to see; our dear star, the Sun, will be no more. The overwhelming megalith of mass and energy that was once concentrated enough to spawn life on a planet one-hundred and fifty-million kilometres distant will have dissipated utterly and uniformly into the great sea of black, never again to facilitate even the most meagre of chemical reactions.

Eventually, our star will be joined in its stellar grave by the rest; and as the last of its siblings burn out, the universe shall surrender to the chilling embrace of equilibrium. It is with an uncannily acceptant feeling of resignation that I find myself in expectation of what is an unfathomably bleak coda that awaits our universe.

Equilibrium is unquestionably the purest embodiment of hell, and to it we are all bound, everyone, everything, everywhere, without exception.

Destiny's Apologist

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 21:00:00 +0000

The concept of fate has been somewhat misrepresented in popular culture. It needn’t be thought of as an arcane mystical force, like karma; on the contrary, belief in fate is entirely rational. Fate is the idea that everything that happens is inevitable, unavoidable and has been destined to occur since the beginning of time.

It may sound esoteric, but it is not, it is simply a matter of epistemology versus ontology. Whilst epistemology pertains to what we know, ontology pertains to what is. On an epistemological level, fate may appear to be bogus, as we cannot know the future and so it may seem absurd that the future is already written, so to speak; however, fate is not epistemological, it is ontological.

For example, if somebody rolls a dice, the number upon which the dice lands may seem random, and on an epistemological level, it is; but on an ontological level, it is not at all random, for the number that the dice lands on is determined in absolute totality by the physical conditions in which the dice is thrown; it would be entirely possible to determine the outcome of a dice roll if we were capable of calculating all of the variables, but we are not, and therein lies the illusion of randomness, it is not randomness, but rather our sensory limitations that are at play. If a dice lands on six, then it was always going to land on six, it was inevitable, nothing could prevent it, we were simply unable to attain awareness of that fact until the dice had been thrown.

So fate is for real, fate is inescapable. By all means, ignore it, pretend it isn’t there, you can think what you like, but fate doesn’t care; in fact, fate knew what you’d think before even you did, fate can’t be fooled, and to try only proves it.

Oh Your God

Mon, 13 Feb 2012 21:00:00 +0000

Belief in God, the ubiquitous character-weakness, skilfully masquerading as a virtue. For a mentally-constructed coping mechanism, God has done rather well for Himself, carving out an impressive living over the aeons, playing the role of the ever present imaginary friend for the young of mind. Fear of death and an inability to handle bereavement are the true motivations that compel individuals to accept the existence of God; all else is mere rationalisation. Although having said that, I’m probably being unduly lenient in using a derivative of rational to describe the convoluted mental gymnastics to which believers will frequently resort in their attempts to demonstrate the existence of their beloved watchman in the sky.

Also baffling are the arguments they concoct to excuse the lack of evidence for God’s existence. A popular example is air, which is often used to illustrate the existence of things that cannot be observed; people will say “you cannot see air, yet you know it exists” as if this somehow gives credence to their belief. Of course this is little more than semantic hand-waving; for although we cannot see air, we can nevertheless infer its existence through other means; seeing is not the only way to observe or measure something.

When people say that they do not believe in God because they “cannot see God”, they are not literally making the statement that they don’t believe due to an absence of visible evidence; they are merely using the word ‘see’ as verbal shorthand for sensory inference in general.

So, whilst we cannot see air with our eyes, we can ‘see’ it with, for example, our skin, as we feel it rushing past us on a windy day. God on the other hand, cannot be seen via any means whatsoever; the air analogy, like all others that try to make the case for God, is a feeble exercise in metaphorical fallacy.