Lord Quag and Weird-Fiction, Fresh for 2011! You Suckers!

1) Inventory of residual media: vcrs, overhead, ed’s house of gems, video cameras
2) Vampling dialogically apprehended
3) Forecast of Electromagnetic Archeologist at known event-scene leaked in communique.
4) Murmurs of Message Boards
5) Exchange of emergent clogospheres including the soon to be inundated paper net
6) Ten minute intensive with Ryan Trecartin’s data bodies
7) Videographic trajectories projected through gem
Speculation on flows of capital, art and satellites
9) half hour screed on tactical media
10) Periodic treatise on masked or otherwise tasked interns
11) five-to-ten minute analysis of Oneida community
12) pizza or burritos lurking on the threshold
13) videographic trajectories projected on dog
14) Talking Tough about Time Management
15) Ween Marketing Diagnostics
16) Dog vies for attention, seeking official membership as an augmented reality

(((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

“the eyesight is wrong, I guess if you were a vapor you could see it that way” to paraphrase N.Klein’s review of dirigibles over Paris and their curious representation in an outmoded parchment.

Simultaneously, a space-time transient danced delicately around the edges of this forgotten futurity, observing rightly that the dirigible is full of hot air. Pressing each node separately he was swallowed up by an angle of history which shouldn’t have been there; an angle which was acute, but behaved as if it were obtuse. He climbed interminably along the grotesque memetic moulding – that is, one would call it climbing if the thing was not after all metaphorical.

The ficto-quizzical move anomalously, in a diagonal way- that is, one would call it diagonal if atemporality hadn’t anachronized such delineations. Panopticondemned, such line segmentation can be salvaged amidst the info-mesh, or else what is a node without its link?

Twilight sleep leaves its victims without memories of conscious experiences, diminished reality is a somnambulistic AR code. For those marooned amidst liquid gulfs of modernity, clamoring for mirages of available isms, institutions or, in other words, internments, or better yet (intern)ships— consider Thaddeus S.C. Lowe’s noisome node, “City of New York” launched into the skies, activating leaps and bounds mentally, a teleprescient mode of data-visceralization, a wandering city.

The vapor rising from the newly opened depths was intolerable, and at length the quick-eared will hear an echo of this network culturation that is, for lack of a better description, akin to a shadow economy’s share of derelict playback devices, aligned at the precipice of a search engineered port of entry to the abyss. From here a Reichian regime of phasing–out of time, space, scale–an emergent aura(l) complexity of rhythms as of yet unwanted or unknown.

Nocturnalism, a euphismistic counter point to the term “Scotological Extremism,” is concerning the interference of day for night in a broad context, and defended or motivated by a claim that sleep/wake cycles would be better served with diminished rather than augmented lucidities. The call of nocturnalism arises with respect to deregulation of light in many forms.

At the ficto-quizzical level it raises questions of how scotological extremists should be treated when they are less than fully rational.

(((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.

Some informants attest to seeing it hurtle forth into the sky, out of the Hollow Earth, by way of the eruption of Mt. Eyjafjallajokull. Astronomologically aligned inquisitors counter: this thing is of a utterly cosmic crafting, and thus must certainly be meteoric in origins.

Although experts are seldom taken without a grain of salt, our colleague, the Electromagnetic Archeologist, is presently employing all manner of advanced guesswork and other strategies in researching the purpose, and/or antiquity, and/or visionary aspects of this most auspicious artifact.

While Portland, Earth reels back in splendorous springtime weather, it is elsewhere raining cats and dogs.  More mesmerizing still are the Fortean falls of objects within Wisconsin’s borders, and the near simultaneous ricochet of videographic shadow forms criss-crossing the networked cosmos.

Psychic bombardments plummet to Earth, authorities determine it is not space junk, this time.  More mesmerizing still is the looming prospect that these are derelict theory objects, ideas cooked up by the global brain some time ago, antecedent mental transmissions accumulating just outside of this Earth.  Likely cast forth into the noospheric yonder in the dawn of dial-up.  Returning now, the boomerang(e) of future influence upon the past.  As the saying goes, amongst the ballistically inclined, “be sure of your target–and what is beyond it.”

An Obliteratarium oscillates incessantly in recent weeks as denizens ficto-quizzical cavort with cohorts of Future Death towards a teleprescient spectacle to unfurl in the last throes of April.  Unfurling not so far from Foster Burger, Earth mind you!

Here in an approximation of a parallel glimpse, a multi-versatile configuration of possibilities aligned accordingly, is evidenced. Sanitized white suits can hardly contain the unsane pursuits bubbling beneath these most officious apparel for parallel worlds.

Planets collude, galactic interference becomes as reasonable grist for the mill as trees are conspiratorial colleagues in officiating a gesamtkunstwerk of connective fibrous disciplines.

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.