“Memory, what is the frequency?” a question quipped by desperate denizens of the networked cosmos gains new momentum in Weird Fiction’s frantic formations. One such constellation of ficto-quizzical frenzy seeps in on noospheric gulfs on Friday, October 9th at the Work/Sound gallery situated as it is in the Southeastern side of Portland, Earth
William Tager notwithstanding, anomalous acts of brutality will be sequestered to the video arena, where Weird Fiction, as always, operates live on the innards of information culture.
If this most auspicious evening evidences any unexpected sorts of critical beatdown, chalk it up to the addition of the rogue percussionist and his bevvy of uncertain sensory impacts
