item #0038

I imagine hate mail. I imagine answers to my own questions which are hateful and hate-filled. I imagine, so to speak, animal, geographic metaphors, played out as a rhetoric for my desire to, as it were, popularise the primitive as I define it. I am, that is to say, seeking to enter a phase of personal intoleration and spiralling-down.

Immigrant songs extended my family. We smile as people ask people about our homeland. We smile as we become, therein and thereby, ever more private, ever more in-situ. We despise robot determinists and their version of polity; with its endless invasions on TV. We emit low howls as we reluctantly view. Vacuity is their paradigm-shift. We degenerate in opposition, relentlessly.

Glasshouse x