A science instructor at a community college,
aka,
a failed scientist.

XRT.

Can't stop thinking of
blue surgical gloves,
duct tape,
alibis,
evidence,
etc.

Five For Gone So Fuck Yew

The scenario materialized all on its own,
the blue surgical gloves,
the drastic action,
the consequences you could really, really care less about.

So yeah it's a product of sickness,
but that's just life, that's just blood.

KL.

A Levver masquerading as New Ptolemy,
High on his concentric spheres of Profit.
His black-hole suck thru gravitation,
Depriving the mouths of innocent babes.

Meet Your Editorial Staff

 

C. Russell : Founder, Editor, Writer, Chief Coordinator

Ett. Vi. : Associate Editor, Writer, Researcher, Sales Director

Antari Thorinz, MA : Art Director, Researcher, Psychology Consultant

Julian "Duff" Webster : Director of "Daily Puppy" Division

Voyal Cortend, SJD. : Legal Counsel

Oh Wouldn't You Know?

Some months ago, staffer Ett. Vi. happened to run into Mz. Zoe at a local organic food market. They exchanged pleasantries, the general 'so how you been doin' stuff, and Vi. figured it was going to end shortly. But to his surprise, Zoe started to lower her voice and her eyes began to shift in a nervous way, as if she was checking for anyone who might be observing them or listening in.

In a somewhat hushed voice, she started to pour out a somewhat rambling account of her recent interactions with and reactions to Mr. Lev Tate. The content of her speech came as a mild shock, as Vi. hadn't ever been a confidante to Zoe. But on she went, rattling off a list of complaints, with Vi. occasionally missing a few words or the gist of a sentence. It should be noted that of what Vi. did hear, he tried as best he could to assemble the statements into a rough list complete with bullet-points, in a sort of mental shorthand, for the purpose of properly retaining this information so as to pass it along to the other L4L staffers.

We cannot at this moment relate the details Vi. accumulated, as we have a somewhat lofty goal of putting much effort into the production and display of the revelatory conversation that was held. But there is a hint that could be given, which came to Vi.'s mind through a moment of peculiar Synchronicity. As Zoe's word-spill reached a climax, the background music emanating from the store's ceiling speakers sounded the first notes of the quite recognizable song "Free Radicals," as performed by the Flaming Lips. Vi. claims the song blended well with the ideas that Zoe was offering, that between the her words and Coyne's lyrics, a temporary two-engined "secondary layer" descended upon his consciousness. The music and speech mixed, mingled, and in the end spoke a similar conclusion with a final and authoritative THUD of completion.

As if suddenly aware that she had said too much, Zoe offered a hasty goodbye and quickly shuffled toward the doors, and Vi. noticed that she hadn't purchased anything.

tunnelsong.

CODA XII.

Ett. Vi. can't help admitting his DISGUST at seeing a FREEMAN devolve into a SLAVE TO SCIENCE.

Is the PSYCHOSIS worth it?

Does the soul BLOOM in molecules and wavelengths? Vi. insists, NO.