Having found that distributed tele-actions aids the erosion of empathy for all parties involved, this ficto-quizzical cabal for reasons This Owl has yet to discern— has been rapidly prototyping towards a more sociable medium for mitigating known human-machine interactions.

On Thursday the last of June 2011, auras, aspirations, anxieties and ideas will be aggregated in a cybernetic haybatch wherein mammals and computers will be attuned towards a stylistic obsolescing of pretentious and anempathetic routines.

Psychological shareholders will be encouraged to interface with a massive “Artificial Empathy” machine, one that is programmed for vicarious thrills. If bloated with featuritis, the machine remains a potential mirror of the self.

“9 Lives of Lincoln”

Weird-Fiction @ Agenda w/ Fasters and Hollywood Tans
2366 Southeast 82nd Avenue
Portland, OR 97216

Feb 12th, 9pm

1$ admission if you come in a stove pipe hat or lincoln beard. 3$ otherwise.

It is a sad state of affairs, a “sign of the times,” that even our most intrepid augurs, divination rods, omens, oracles and forecasts were hushed. And so we offer, albeit with much reddening of our facial regions, a retrograde prophecy:  Amidst a dionysian videodrome populated by those attuned and within the Portland Metro Area of the local group, an unfettered unfurling of free-floating pixels.  Of beams brought on one’s own to inhabit in spectral pallor the parlor known as New American Art Union.

To humanoids fumbling for a suitable reference, the event-scene was whispered as something of a “photo booth.”  Emphasis, mine, then, on “john wilkes,” and the assassinations of character  inflicted in textbook vampler tradition—-sweet talking the vampling in waiting, then subjecting said vampling to the process of any old vampire’s scheme: vidsonic nutrients ripped out of context and left adrift—like derelict data bodies who then wander the walls of this and that establishment.

In ficto-quizzical quarters, vampladelia, or, vampling used to engender a psychedelic affect, is metaphorically speaking, a black box device, system or object which can be viewed solely in terms of its input, output and transfer characteristics without any knowledge of its internal workings.  Being liminal has also been– of late– the favored geo-political posture of interactors found lurking in the outer regions of mankind’s information ecosystems.

Call it interactive decay —-a process by which an unstable liminoid loses energy by emitting compromising articles. The emission is spontaneous, in that the decay is emergent even without collision with another article.  Post collision and collusion: The mental maw of many netizens is lockjawed: nibbling news where once there was gluttony, haphazardly patching up leaks with Pentagon Papers. Factoids protruding from these neutered networks much like parts of a corpse will protrude from an ill-made grave.

(((WFT))) will be there, believing that to foretell the particular future that is destined to depart very soon coming to a close in the late hours of Sunday, twenty-first of the thirty days known to November, is to already belong to that future and to be there is only an after-image.  Fear not, our after-images will be tended by humanoid familiars in occupying the nooks and crannies of the haunt, known as Valentines, that is huddled at 232 SW Ankeny.

Joined by denizens of Church No.9, and so expect a place within a space, a shadow out of time.  Post it to your skull

Varied intiatives aimed at grey matters have cropped up.  Vulture brains, imbibed by fire, have opportuned visionary insight for footballers in recent times. Leveraging other anxieties elsewhere, with detriment, needless to say, to the avian advocates among us!

Mind children get headaches while memory palaces stave off near-certain condemnation and, indeed, there are assorted extra-terrestrials facing stylistic if not more insidious forms of obsolescence on account of their over-sized crania.

These startling occurrences, if not other less esoteric concerns, will be met with the good graces of a Brain Benefit that, according to crystal spheres and dried vulture brains, is fast-approaching!  To be a polymorphic menagerie of spirited machineries, and, according to current constelllations of star-flung monoliths: a multi-faceted sensorium that would have A.Scriabin drooling! IT IS UPON US SEVERAL DAYS HENCE:  24 July, the year 2010.

(((WFT))) prophecied to plumb possibility spaces in the cataclysmic clublanding of Branx, on the eve of 7 July this very year!

Manifesting there to authorize structural adjustments and nit-pick networks of cultural artifacts native to weird fictional frequencies

Or, in other words, fleshy minded mammals can expect the unexpected, albeit bearing an uncanny safety net in knowing that it will be a real-time rendezvous within synth addled ficto-quizzical forays.

It is rumored that a second deployment of the iMage will be manifesting circa Portland, Earth in coming weeks.  More to be announced on that front.

At any rate,  paranormal mechanisms in tow, the iMage attempts to triangulate the epicenter of the Polterzeitgeist, then saturates that field with billions and billions of ghost queries, in hopes that one or more of these derelict data projectiles will compel the Polterzeitgeist to emerge.

Not unlike finding a needle in a haystack, excepting that this hertzian haystack is filled with all manner of needles, and so it may take some finesse to hone in on the Polterzeitgeist proper.  The included pictures are redolent of Polterzeitgeist phenomena and in fact are the fascinating results of alpha-phase testing.

Communications, love, and existing in an era.

April 30th and May 1, 8pm

Performance Works Northwest

Conundrums of communication emerge across towns, time and space. From cave-dwelling Quakers, grunge lovers in New Jersey to galactic beings in an ever expanding Universe, the prospect of exchange is obstructed by distances real and imagined.

Cross wiring chasms from the cinematic, literary and theatrical; in alliance with Future Death Toll and Erik Bader, messages will be mixed and echoes mistaken half-knowingly as correspondence from afar.

Cryogenic keepings of frozen forecasts have been inadvertently thawed, revealing a sort of disheveled map. Within this info-graphic array— the dizzying spell of winged migrations that will befall (((WFT))) in coming weeks–is foretold!  Hurtling this ficto-quizzical milieu will be,  in varied trajectories.  Weird Fiction will be transported to the nethermost craters of the Willamette Valley, i.e., Ditch Project Space in Springfield, OR.  Together with the miasmic machinists, Future Death Toll ,on the eve of 20 February, to accelerate the concurrent Ditch Freeze event into a new dark age.

Come March 6th, in the forestal abysm of Olympia, under the auspices of the Hall of The Woods, still greater swathes of immemorial lunacy will be heralded across the pacific northwest patches of spaceship earth! Witness the Olympia Noise Fest, if you can fathom such an affront!

As winter warbles and spring time creeps in, other avenues, looming now on the outskirts of this sphere, will be more tangibly deciphered and so remain: to be announced!