Litany of Perfect Hole

Everything about the present is boring. We could have such more interesting lives, be comfortable, be connected to each other and the world around us. Instead we are arguing about bathrooms. We are killing women because we cant talk to them. We are watching a livestreamed concentration camp intercut with the tiktok dance.

You may be asking yourself, well what can I do? The answer is to dig. 

We must each of us dig, dig deep, shovel, pickaxe, barrow. As we dig deeper into the Earth we are saved. The depth is our salvation.

Anywhere can be dug. The forest path, the penthouse suite, the cliffside, the ocean floor, all of these are destructible and give way to downwards. Gravity beckons us down, through soil and root, sand and rock, we dig deeper, all of us, every one of us digging a hole of their own, a perfect hole.

The perfect hole. Such legends number human mythology in the thousands. Throughout human history, a hole is somehow associated with periods of great change. The sacrifice of Christ, the Great Pyramids, the Moon Landing, each of these features a hole that is often referred to as 'perfect'. Yet whilst the perfect hole is never described, you can imagine a circle of absolute black, cartoonlike in its simplicity. Yet this perfect hole is whichever hole you find yourself digging.

So we must dig, each shovelful takes away its equal weight in sin. The deeper the hole, the greater the salvation, until all of humanity has punctured the Earth's crust, and waterfalls from oceans tumble down around us, cooling magma that is dug into, deeper and deeper. As we descend we get closer to our destiny. The gates of heaven lie at the centre of the world.

Our New Taste

Movie Review: Interstellar Overdrive

Space. The final frontier. Space is futuristic, no matter what the context. The eventual penultimate sequel of any series of horror film must end in space. Cheech and Chong went to space, Brian Blessed went to space, Michael Fassbender went to space, the potential future of humanity is seen to be in space. And it is with this sort of nostalgia for the future that the film Interstellar plays upon over the 190 million dollar blockbuster directed by Christopher Nolan out in cinemas...Now!

The film starts with actor Mathew Mahoney working as an uneducated farmer in New York city before catching a zip-line ride into a secret underground base and blasted in a rocket through the universe! The film pays homage to many classics of the sci-fi genre. Flight of the Navigator, The Last Starfighter, Man of Steel and 2001: Abe's Odyssey are just a few of the movies Interstellar 'parodies' for extensive lengths of its 120 minute running time. Mathew Majonnahugh literally weeps throughout the entire film as he battles ice beasts, alien planets and even Father Time himself as he goes on a quest to find the true power of love. I think the swashbuckling nature of the main characters in the film add to its charm. For instance, MacConeys crash lands his spaceship on an alien planet and stands in the water, leaning back slightly so that his six pack really pops in the light thrown from the binary star system overhead. He looks around at the horizon and his mouth slowly drops open, the cigar he was smoking falls to the floor.
"Those aren't mountains." he says, taking off his sunglasses that had reflected the tsunami approaching him to reveal the steely cool gaze of M.M. He runs back to his ship and clambers on top of it. "Here goes nothing." he mutters to himself, as the wave begins to hit him. The entire screen is filled with a wave and suddenly we see the star riding the spaceship like a surfboard. A Hans Zimmer soundtrack of surf guitars and organ music is so loud it literally rips the cinema screen to shreds and blasts the entire audiences heads back simultaneously. Another classy moment is when Mathew McConnaghey is playing bass guitar in his space pod, lazily rolling around and around as he plays a version of 'Space Oddity', letting the CGI hair and beard float around in the zero gravity. Space is shown as not being a glamorous place for super scientists, but a sort of hyper-industrial working class structure in which humans are disposable, which makes it glamorous again.

Nolan does it again with another terrific film that is so contemporary it will be looked back on as being a classic 10's action flick. Maybe you will understand Inception more after getting into the mad mind brain of Nolan. Film critics in the future will often talk about it fondly, just as we look back on Barbarella or Event Horizon. Scanning any nerds film collection one is bound to see either no science fiction or almost be entirely science fiction, because science fiction is the language of the future. You can barely walk anywhere now without seeing a Star Trek quote etched into a boulder or teenagers discussing The Prisoner on street corners as they share electronic cigarettes. By 2019 the world will be entering a time so futuristic it will resemble that of Blade Runner! Interstellar is less about humanity's literal place in the universe than it is a celebration of how much fiction influences civilization, it doesn't pretend to be real for one moment. If you move your head from side to side whilst watching you will see how the entire universe exists on a two dimensional shape. Most of the people in the film are even played by well known actors and actresses. How am I supposed to believe that the head of NASA is a scientist when I know that he is in fact Michael Caine, famous actor? Everyone in the film are stood around in clothes they don't own in a fake room saying things that somebody else thought.

One thing to take away from this film is its technological optimism in the face of democracy. People are dumb is the main message of the film, yet delivered in a audience driven market of Dumb and Dumber To and Nativity 3: Dude Where's My Reindeer it will be interesting to see how this sci-fi blancmange blemishes against the eye, blossoming the blood vessels around the iris like exploding planets around the films eponymous black hole; Megadrive. Regardless I will give the film 8 stars out of 10, go and see it, tell your friends about it, tweet about it. #seenit

Underlying Theorem

The theory of everything is a theory of ideas. Matter and energy are unimportant, as are time and space. Mathematics are a way of understanding physics, yet what are mathematics without a mathematician? The universe was made believed to have existed whilst running parallel to every moment in time, carved over the aeons from future understandings of reality. It is only by through being believed in that a thing exists. For years scientists searched for the Higgs Boson, spending billions of euros to find the God particle. Is this any different from the fact that when Christians die that they go Christian heaven? Or that Buddhists are reincarnated as lobsters after not paying their taxes? In the centre of a black hole, where the forces of nature are so extreme they cease to make sense, is this an admittance that logical conclusions will eventually become illogical? What if you wore a hat with a brim so large it covered an entire city. If machines that can adapt were left on a planet long enough would evolve intelligence and ponder their existence~ would a video tape left playing long enough become sentient. If mankind ever was to reach the edge of the universe, could he begin to create new galaxies outside of everything? Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from nature.

Due to the saggy fabric of reality, all it takes for something to be true is for enough people to believe true. Science take place across the cosmos and involve the belief of aliens, so the rules remain simple. More locally the believed fictions tend to be more true. Werewolves once existed, so did Zeus. There is simply no other explanation. Why do we need science to explain things like telepathy when you and me know that it exists? We live in a fictional world striving for realism and falling to pieces when every million to one long-shot comes true. The weaknesses in order, the striving for chaos, the ringing from a bell tower that is yet to be built, lifting a stone to see the insects belief and dropping it down upon seeing them, the gradual realisation of your own aging, the squashy eyed moments of orgasm, two hammers pounding together, crystalline parallax, obnoxious rhododendron, that dreams are real and the real is a dream, time lapsed implosions of snails, the absurdity of being alive, the morning sun in summer, the continuum of ennui and staring off into the distance distracted by thoughts about the death of your partner. All of these fold like origami into a kind of lattice pork pie shape that's the time paradox revolution, if you extract the firmament using a simple Van Bolonvandervarian equation you can unlock the secrets of life. If not, you are rendered illegible for public recognition and dandelion seeds will be spread in your garden for six and six years.

I Am The CEO

I cruised over the rocky outcrop with a cigarette pinched between my teeth, it was a recessed type of filter used by machine gun artists in the second world war. The All Terrain Vehicle came to a purring stop as I parked on the mountain side, looking at the city through my field goggles. I had been in Los Angeles a long time. And I hadn't learned nothing. Don't get a McJob, be a Steve Jobs. I had integrated myself into a large non-profit company and worked it from the inside out, sabotaging my co-workers, setting up chains of events so that they would find themselves destroyed. I was the puppet master. I was the Royal Tenenbaum. I was CEO, earning eighty thousand dollars a year just to go wine and dine chumps in order to secure investment. I sat across from gorgons eating expensive salad and drinking white wine. Success? I'd made the American Dream a reality. I was a semi-state fictional character starring in my own film before being made into life. Was this box office blockbuster going to bombasticate the socio-cultural landscape of Los Angeles? I was in the mouth of the world, my whispers being projected across multiple wi-fi dimensions directly into high definition big detail corporate monosynths. I lowered the binocs and dialled my assistant on my cell phone.
“Organise a board meeting, stat.” I whisper through cut teeth.

The limousine slinks it's way through the streets of Hollywood with me in the back, reclining on Swedish leather. Deep warbling world music swells in the speakers around me as a single tear coagulates on my bottom eye lid and captures the reflection of the street lights as they zip overhead.
“It's all so...beautiful.”
The limousine pulls up to a traffic light. I look over into the car next to me and see a young couple. The one driving looks like Danzig. His girlfriend looks over to me then says something to her partner. They both laugh. I turn back to watching the stop light and put my hands on the wheel. I rev the engine. The couple return the challenge. We are both revving our engines, the pitch of the valves increasing as explosions rapidly accelerate. The light goes green. I slam the stick shift of my ATV into Drive and begin flying down the length of the limousine. The racer next to me flies past, I can see his expression of concentration increase through the flicking windows. I hear a horn ahead of me and look up. The seven forty express train coming from Pasadena is on a collision course with me and the driver next to me. And he's slowly catching up. I flick the stick shift into it's race gear setting and begin to pull away. The train's horn toots again just as the front of the limousine smashes through the barrier across the tracks. I look over once more at the couple. He is frantic, eyes bulging, heads pressed against the wind shield. She looks over at me and winks. I push the ATV to it's limit and with a jump narrowly escape along with the rest of the limo. The other car meanwhile isn't so lucky. It's passengers are ejected two hundred feet in the air whilst the car is crushed beneath American railroad legacy. I come to a skidding stop just before the driver's compartment. A little window opens.
“Any problems boss?”
“Guess they had a train to catch.” I say to Bill.

The limousine finally pulls up on the very bottom section of the underground car park. I enter a set of steel doors and plod wearily through the benign corridors. I enter the board room and see it's members sat around a long oak table. A fire blazes in the heath, throwing shifting shapes across the little bald men. Silently I walk to the head of the table and put my seven thousand dollar Dolce briefcase on the table.
“Gentlemen of the board. Any acknowledgements?” I say.
“What are we here for?”
“I gathered you here today...for a presentation.” I say. “Just a few weeks ago the world's entire supply of titanium was bought out. All the mines, processing plants and country stockpiles were purchased overnight.” I take out a lump of titanium from my pocket and throw it onto the table.
“Gentlemen...welcome to the titanium business.”

I ascend the spiral staircase up into the tower. Printers continually churn out stock market prices, high energy business people talk to themselves on headsets, sometimes a basketball is thrown about in order to decide who's making coffee. I stand at a cubicle in which a long haired lawyer rests his feet on the desk as he makes a yo-yo bounce up and down, speaking Portuguese into a cordless phone. He notices me and puts the phone down.
“How's it hangin, hot shot?” I say, leaning against a thin wood.
“Long, loose and full of juice padre. How was the board meeting?”
“You knew about that?”
“Anybody whose anybody heard your business deal. You've transformed a non-profit law firm into the world's one and only source for titanium.”
“Walk with me.” I say, walking off. He follows.
“So what's next?”
“How much does a kilo of titanium cost at the moment?”
“Seven hundred and sixty five dollars.”
“But how much are we selling?”
“None.”
“Exactly. By the time we finished this conversation the world will value titanium twenty bucks more than it did when we started.”
“What's the game plan though here ?”
“What do you know about titanium?”
“Well...it's strong. And it's light.”
“That it?”
“I don't mine it, I buy it.”
“It's used in the manufacture of aerospace parts, sporting goods, surgical instruments and the storage of nuclear waste. It can also be processed into a white dye used in teeth whitening. But I'm going to do something else with it.”
“What?” said the lawyer. I exit the office and stand on a balcony overlooking the Los Angeles skyline as dusk settles in, walking over to the short wall seperating myself and a sixty foot drop. The lawyer grabs hold of the door and nods.
“You're not afraid of heights are you?” I say.
“Yes.”
“I thought so. You know what else titanium can do?”
“What?” he whispers, lips turning blue.
“It can turn a man invisible.” I say, taking a potion from my pocket and drinking it's contents. I watch the lawyer look directly at me in astonishment.
“Padre? Padre?” he says. I creep towards him. “Where've you gone man?” I grab him by both wrists and begin to pull him. He yells. “Stop! Stop!” I pull him towards the balcony and begin to climb over.
“See you in hell!” I scream as I pull him over the edge.

All The World's A Brain

In the operating theatre two gurneys are pulled through plastic doors, on each rests a chimp covered mostly with a white paper smock. The surgeons move about below like an orchestra preparing for a performance, checking the levels for the anaesthetic, that the surgical tools are in the correct order. Two surgeons dressed in red talk to each other before one goes over to a microphone that has been lowered into the theatre.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming today. My name is Dr. Aaron Blaisdell and I will be providing commentary throughout today's surgery which will be a partial brain transplant between two adult chimps. The head surgeon today is Dr. Ellen Carpenter and if anybody has any questions throughout the surgery please send us a tweet and I'll try to read out the best ones. So without further ado, doctor.” he said, gesturing towards Dr. Carpenter. The dozen doctors and nurses are in place, waiting to begin. Bill and I are sat in the observation mezzanine circling the theatre, trying to eat popcorn quietly.

The surgeons begin by standing at the top of each chimpanzee's shaved head and fastening them both into a 3-pin skull fixation device. This has a series of rings around it with measurements on, co-ordinates similar to what you'd see on globe of the Earth so that the surgeons know where they are poking around. Dr. Blaisdell begins to talk.
“Craniotomy is one of the more complex subjects in surgery. We can make guesses as to what certain areas of the brain do, though it's similar to guessing the purpose and structure of internal organs of something you haven't seen the inside of. Still, we know more now than we did last week, and this particular surgery could be very valuable in the future.
The patients chosen are a pair of identical twins, the ideal candidates for any kind of organ transplant. Today we will be excising the left hemisphere of each chimpanzee and fitting in it's twins. We'll be leaving the brain stem intact, just as you would when grafting a plant cutting onto a larger plant, though everything else will be moved.” he said. We continue to watch as the surgeons begin to make the first skin incision around each chimp's head.
“I dunno if I can watch this.” says Bill. He's looking a little pale.
“Relax, you've seen the Saw films, right?”
“But...but this is for real.”
“Exactly. Relax.”

Next comes the drilling of small burrs all the way around the skull, followed by the craniotome sawing neatly the precise line needed to lift off the cranium lid.
“Just as identical twins have nonidentical fingerprints, they also don't share the patterns of sulci and gyrus.” said Dr. Blaisdell. High above the operating theatre a screen is turned on, showing the view from a head-mounted camera Dr. Carpenter was wearing. She cut open the dura matter with a pair of surgical scissors to reveal surface of the neocortex, labyrinth-like in it's many folds of grey matter. I begin to sketch, partly what is going on beneath me, partly some political cartoons satirizing the response to the Syrian gas attack.
“In the 1940s a procedure was invented that cut the corpus callosum in order to treat epileptic patients. It improved their epilepsy but patients were otherwise mentally stable, which is surprising to say they severed some 300 million nerve fibres. We've had to manufacture an artificial corpus callosum for this procedure in order to link both hemispheres once the transplant is done. Though the patients can survive with a split brain, we think it's best to get the procedure as accurate as possible.” he said, holding up what looked like two CD's. On the operating table meanwhile the left hemisphere of one of the chimpanzee's was removed and quickly placed into a chemical bath whilst Dr. Carpenter quickly used an ultrasonic aspirator on the brain of it's twin.

“We just got a tweet asking us why only transplant one hemisphere. Perhaps you'd like to answer that Dr. Carpenter?” said Blaisdell as he moved towards the surgeon and held a microphone close to her face. Her voice was slightly muffled through the surgical mask.
“To start with we are attempting one hemisphere, if successful, we'll transplant the right hemisphere in a few weeks time. I hypothesise that a brain transplant is extensively traumatic to both the nervous system and the psychology of the patient. This way the brain has a way of synchronizing itself in it's new environment, getting used to it's endocrine system, body image and so on.”
“Thank you. Dr. Carpenter just mentioned the psychology of undergoing a brain transplant, which in itself will be an entirely new field of study. Through this operation we are splitting the mind, inducing schizophrenia literally.” he said. There were a few laughs from the psychologists in the mezzanine.
“The patients have both been given a course of immunosuppressants in order to combat graft-versus-host, whilst also being administered a series of psychoactive drugs to encourage a state of temporary dissociation, mainly ketamine. Think of it similar to how you might change the furniture around in somebodies house. If you simply did it whilst they slept, they would quickly notice upon waking up. Whilst if you had been giving them a course of drugs in the previous and following weeks, they may be less inclined to either notice or become anxious about it.”
I watch as they attach the artificial corpus callosum onto the right hemisphere before sliding the rest of the brain into the empty half of the skull. The dura matter is fastened back into place followed by the top of the skull.
“And there you have it. They'll be a short intermission but we encourage viewers to stay behind to watch the patients wake up.” said Dr. Blaisdell. There is an applause and we make our way out of the operating theatre.

Bill and I are eating small triangles of toast with prawns on them, looking at the throng of people standing in the atrium.
“So the monkey's gonna think they're each other?”
“Yep. And also themselves. I wonder what it must feel like, part of yourself in one body, part of yourself in the other.”
“Must be fucked up.”
“Would you have your brain transplanted into another body?”
“Nope.”
“What about if you were really old, would you put your brain in the body of a teenager?” I ask. Bill thinks for a moment, munching thoughtfully on the appetizer.
“Well, maybe I'd do that. Wouldn't I be an old guy in my head though? What if my body starts growing old, like that Robin Williams film?”
“Benjamin Button?”
“No, he wasn't in that. The other one.”
“Hook? He was Peter Pan in that, that's an old man acting like a kid. He wore tights.”
“Whatever. I dunno about letting Frankenstein poke round in my head is all.” said Bill. I nod. Dr. Blaisdell comes up to us.
“Did you enjoy observing the operation?”
“Yeah, thanks. Ground breaking stuff.” I say.
“It is. Next week we're grafting a nose onto a chimp to see if it would look more human.”
“Chimp with a nose?” said Bill.
“Yeah. We use quite a lot of chimpanzee's for our experiments. All ethical of course.”
“Would you put your brain in a chimp's body?” I ask. Dr. Blaisdell laughs, showing row after row of pearly white teeth.
“Maybe one day. Anyway, I'll see you later. Take care.” he said, walking off. I doubted he would volunteer himself for a human/chimpanzee brain transplant, though maybe he would under the right circumstances. I make a note to pay Dr. Blaisdell a visit later on in the week.

A few hours later we watch the twins slowly wake up.
“Well, they're alive at least.” said Bill.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the second part of the afternoon. We will do some basic motor tests and check both hemispheres.” announced Dr. Blaisdell. Assistants helped the chimpanzee's out of their cots and they held hands. A couple of people went 'aww'. Over the next hour we watched the chimpanzee's watch lights flick on or off on either side of their heads.
“They were trained beforehand to press a button when they see a light. This test was first designed by Roger Sperry, though is particularly useful for seeing if the operation was a success with these non-verbal patients.” he said. Up until that point both primates had been separated, though after it was shown both hemispheres appeared to be working correctly they were reintroduced to each other. Or themselves. Everyone was silent as they slowly walked up to each other, making quiet hooting noises.
“Another positive point about using identical twins is that you're used to seeing yourself. They are unaware that their twin is now sharing their skull with them.” said Dr. Blaisdell. The two chimps held each other, making little cooing noises. More people began to fawn and smile. I awaited the point where they would snap, perhaps attacking each other and everyone else. But it didn't come. I signalled to Bill that we should leave and we made our way back onto the Los Angeles street.
“That was nice wasn't it.”
“Yeah, it was alright.” said Bill, getting into the car. I examine his head as we drive back towards my motel, wondering if I would swap brains for a time.

R.O.Y.G.B.P.(M)

Professor Gomez, the esoteric scientist of waning fame, has recently come out of retirement to display the new colour he had discovered. He had spent his lifetime researching the vastness of human senses, attempting to install the very best from the animal kingdom into humans such as the noses of dogs implanted into the faces of policemen and the eyes of birds grafted onto the pupils of aircraft pilots.

Gomez discovered the new colour whilst experimenting with his own paintings that critics have mostly deemed inappropriate for public consumption. Although whilst painting a landscape of the beaches of Southport, Gomez discovered that by simply mixing dead fish with oil paint that strange colours appeared that he had never recognized. He has named this new colour 'Mahrj' and it has caused rapid changes in almost every avenue of life. Mahrj is perhaps best described for somebody who hasn't seen it by first comparing colours to taste. If blue was bitter, red was sweet and yellow sour Mahrj would be umami. Of course there has been public backlash by people saying that the colour was 'bullshit' and 'didn't exist', as well as other scientists claiming that it was impossible for the human eye to see Mahrj. Nevertheless Gomez has already begun to sell buckets full of Mahrj paint to home-owners all across the country!

Space Drugs

Some of the greatest discoveries of mankind were found under the influence of drugs, such as Isaac Newton ingesting a hefty bag of psychedelic mushrooms and seeing small orbs raining from the air keeping everything stuck to the ground giving him the idea of gravity or Charles Darwin, drunk, looking down a superstring and watching the entire history of biology in between saccades. Other discoveries were more controversial, with whole groups of scientists being so strung out for long periods of time they weren't even sure if they had written down their discoveries or not.

And now, in this calm before the brain storm of unending invention, we must acknowledge what kind of drugs the supermassive objects ingest. This is of course directed at those familiar with the work of Drake, the theory that suns are enormous brains that sing to each other over space and time like strange whales. There is certainly a tendency in the stars that go supernova, and thus become magnetars and pulsars, that space drugs almost definitely exist. Scientists are currently uncertain as to what form or effect these space drugs would have, although it is thought perhaps indestructible clouds of psychedelics float through the cosmos, warping matter itself by freaking out atoms. Others suggest comets act as hypodermic syringes, punching holes in the surface of stars and delivering chemical mixtures that make the star turn into liquid. Whatever form these take, every single scientist definitely agrees on their existence. All of them.

Inward

Dancing

Dripping Exhausts

America has had quite an interesting reaction to the motorcar, it is deeply ingrained into their culture due to the popularity of this technology. Just as we anthropomorphise animals, people also do this to cars (such as the Pixar film; Cars). Cars themselves are interesting objects often designed to be aerodynamic, which share the forms of birds or predator mammals. As technology gets more organic it will take less effort for the sexualization of these metal bodies to be undertaken. It is hard to imagine a future in which people ride around in pulsing steel vulvas although I would hazard a guess and say we're not far off.

Portals Into Knowledge

Big Kahuna

Modern Warfare Explained

Gary Harper has recently completed an exhibition at the Bowline National Park based around his experiences as a jet fighter pilot. Whilst walking through the fields of the park you notice scale models of battlefields on the ground, miniaturized disaster areas. At each edge of the gallery designated area were large aircraft engines that idle slowly, the mechanical wind slightly waving the grasses or brushing peoples hair over there faces. On the last night of the exhibition Gary Harper himself made an appearance, turning on the huge engines to full power so that they tore themselves free from their metal plinths and flew off into the surrounding forests and fields. His replicas were severely damaged in both the blast of the engines and ensuing panic that followed. That's when the strobe lights were turned on.

Dreams About Success

Divers leap off diving boards at different heights whilst lights flash off their bodies faster than the rest of colour can be shown due to the large amounts of sleep deprivation and sugar everybody in the audience was dosed with. High speed cameras record it all and show the reality of what was happening above in stunning high definition, the quakes of skin and muscle beneath damp nylon and spandex captured on computers and broadcast across the hot earth. Intercut with this are some of the all time greatest moments in history with new audio commentaries by those involved to give a deeper insight into the mechanics of value. Armitage Shanks watches, wondering where he could get some snacks from. He lazily lifts a swollen palm and shouts "Who do I have to blow to get a burger around here?"

At the bottom of the olympic swimming pool is a performance artist protesting capitalism, demonstrating it by having a circular cage around his waist containing an eel and motion sensors. As the eel circulates his midriff, small sensors are triggered to release thousands of dollars in unmarked bills into the chlorinated water.

Time Conspiracy

Ancient astronauts landed on Earth 65 million years ago, exterminating everything with dull laser guns. They trudged slowly through the swamp, the hell of a planet where the best creatures in that environment were giant lizards. Deciding them too ridiculous to live, the astronauts walked across the supercontinents, gnashing their terrible teeth and rolling their terrible eyes as they did so. They were disgusted at the feathered dinosaurs or the insects the size of dogs, shooting pathetic lasers through the fog. A few of their ships were attacked once and forced to be abandoned at the same site as the pyramids are today.

History of Pain