"After the torchlight red on sweaty facesAfter the frosty silence in the gardensAfter the agony in stony placesThe shouting and the cryingPrison and palace and reverberationOf thunder of spring over distant mountainsHe who was living is now deadWe who were living are now dyingWith a little patience" T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land https://videopress.com/v/80hDG0EL?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true
"What is that noise?" The wind under the door."What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?" Nothing again nothing. "Do"You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember"Nothing?" T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land https://videopress.com/v/z7AyuE4r?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true
"The corpse you planted last year in your garden, Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?" T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land https://videopress.com/v/XfU6G5IJ?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true
"I like to think (it has to be!) of a cybernetic ecology where we are free of our labors and joined back to nature, returned to our mammal brothers and sisters, and all watched over by machines of loving grace." Richard Brautigan, All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace https://videopress.com/v/so8RKGTc?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata
"The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me." Wittgenstein's Mistress, David Markson https://videopress.com/v/WfJ60cAo?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata
"The Empire is the institution, the codification, of derangement; it is insane and imposes its insanity on us by violence, since its nature is a violent one. To fight the Empire is to be infected by its derangement. This is a paradox: whoever defeats a segment of the Empire becomes the Empire; it proliferates like… Continue reading Interference III // The U.N.K.L.E. T.O.M. Project
"Colorless green ideas sleep furiously." Noam Chomsky, Syntactic Structures
"All he believes are his eyes, and his eyes, they just tell him lies." Bob Dylan, Licence to Kill
The New Poetics 