Old Man Centipede was a quiet sort, given to reverie within the multi-chambered dampness of The Hollow Mount, a path up from which afforded him clear observation of the hatchlings, hunting spiders in The Wasteland beyond the great burrow of the old log which had served as his home for six years. He'd heard rumblings… Continue reading Old Man Centipede
§ Past the shambling, faceless crowd Where but the faithful are allowed Runs a great and staircased spire Drenched all in aphotic mire § Ascend the lift and thread the stair Unto the court, if should thou dare The nameless lord there sits the throne Of primal fears and sepulchred bone § He speaks in voices,… Continue reading The Court Of The Centipede
When I awoke from the dream the world seemed to have shifted. As if something within me had moved or grown or diminished, I knew not which, only that something was different. It were as if I had carried those fateful imaginings back into the waking world with their full weight, as if they lingered… Continue reading Rumination One | What Did It Matter?
IN MY DREAM | The red duomo loomed over me, suspended between a bottomless mist that had a bizarre solidity, enough to maintain the weight of a full-grown man and the endless ambit of a shimmering and starless sky, black save for a strange-flickering of blue-lightening, threshing the skin of the void like great and… Continue reading The Third Visitation | The Red Duomo
◊ IN MY DREA M | I stalked along a dusty road which ran betwix two fields of corn that stretched beyond the line of sight and vanished into the space between earth, horizon and sky, the liminal realm where Apep lay with baited breath for the encroachment of his eternal foe. Each stalk, higher… Continue reading The Second Visitation | The Sea of Corn
IN MY DREAM | I stood upon a great stair in a endless hall, below which was a voiceless chasm, above which were the voices of a multitude. Tongues in discord liken to the rattling of leaves under a gale. All was lightless, save for a single beam upon the landing & when I stood… Continue reading The First Visitation | ᚲᚺᚨᚨᚱᛁᛉᚨᛚ
T H E F E A R ~ Avatars Fear of the machine is neigh-omnipresent. In books and films and philosophically minded conversations concerning artificial intelligence. The terror of the edifice-producer for hard-edged and binary processes which are too innumerable and lightening fast for most, even of over-moderate intellect, to fathom. There is The… Continue reading Məhshinēk Horryr, Prt.1