#dc#dc comics#batman#dick grayson#bruce wayne#tim drake#dc fanart#batfam#batfamily
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Who needs strength or smarts when you have creative thinking skills?
Reading Comics
Over the last 24 hours I have mainlined 15 issues of aleskot ZERO. My THE PRISONER, spy assassin-MIDWICH CUCKOOS-Burroughsian mushroom brain loves it And then there's THE SURFACE, also by Kot. Notable for its main characters, a poly triad - one of whom is named Mark Loki and has one eye occluded/covered/missing/is probably an all-seeing lifelogging camera. Oh and a major corporation in-world? The VERHOEVEN-DELANY Corp (I <3 DHALGREN, STARSHIP TROOPERS, ROBOCOP). The main media feedsite? Called BLINKFEED. Articles in it have clickthru links saying "Do you want to know more?" (Yes. Odin and Loki based synchronicities which may be deliberate. Not sure yet. Just started #2 and had to write this because, well there's a line: "LOKI'S PLAYING A DEEP GAME CAN'T WRITE MORE DONT TRUST YOUR SENSES TRUST YOUR FEELINGS." Paging lokiwtf...The above is under a BLINKFEED link reading WHAT IS REALITY? with the DO YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE link. This is even funnier because someone on my dash mentioned this comic yesterday. Was it theemperorsfeather - I can't recall? I was already binging on ZERO at the time and now I have extra non-local Bohmian holographic universe theory stories with Loki-Odin classic weird SF overtones to enjoy monthly.) Yes. I know folks have been raving about aleskot and the #blankbadge, High Weird territory for a bit. I was late to the party. Mea Culpa. But between ZERO, THE SURFACE, warrenellis doing TREES and the forthcoming INJECTION, plus Morrison's NAMELESS, comics are back to being my regular intake of Weird en masse. It's almost like 15 years ago, only with less early twenties angst. Hurrah.
Ambassadors of the Neither-Neither
Reading m1k3y in the DE-EXTINCTION CLUB newsletter constantly makes me think of my undergrad Philosophy dissertation, in a good way. Ultimately, its conclusion was that you'd need "ambassadors" between homo sapiens and non-human sentiences because there would always be translation and framing issues.
The more I think of it, the more I believe we've always had them, or at least mythic roles for them. The queer, shapeshifting witches and sorcerers adept at bridging gaps, in navigating states of consciousness, of radical empathy. A class of beings that is no class.
Your standard Lovecraft cultists are, in fact cargo-cultists trying to mimic the primordial chaos of Ubbo-Sathla, or the Crawling Chaos of Nyarlathotep.
The Father-Mother of the witchcult. Every sorcerer becomes as the Black-Man-Goat of the deep and terrifying Forest of Trees that Walk, the feral, uncivilised deeps of icy cold space stalked by the star-spawn of Chthulu.
Radical deconditioning by the Gnosis that inspired the Church of Starry Wisdom, which is but a poor facsimilie, a faded photostat transmitted to earth by a white-noise static which echoes the deep mysterious pulse of the Bloop,
Werewolves with altered metabolisms that feed on starlight, not dead but dreaming as we ride the backs of comets, protoplasmic wanderers, grafting ourselves into new superheated ecosystems. We kiss the volcanic vents, crawl into the hollow earth and wait to rise, to crack open mounds and mountains.
We're the folks from Under The Hill. The Deep Past and the Deep Future are the same place. We're the Dancers at the End of Time, reaching back to Uplift ourselves. Or, at least we could be, if we start thinking beyond category and duality - from human and nonhuman into Being...
Remember when that girl in my 10th grade bio class showed up one day with a back tattoo that said her last name in basically comic sans? Like in case she forgot her name and needed a reference? But couldn’t see it cause it was on her back? But it gave her an excuse to wear those terry cloth tube tops so that strangers could utilize her back flesh as some sort of human dog tag?
I hope she’s doing okay.
"But, in the spirit of the last entry of mine before this one, let me tell you that London is Weird. It’s the sleeping beast the rest of the country tiptoes around for fear of waking, and when it does, they rapidly sacrifice their firstborns to it so it won’t go around devastating everything.
I know this through observation, and in my bones – my Mum’s a Londoner, y’see.
And I wish I was kidding about the firstborns, but I’m not. Not completely. You see the thing about a good metaphor, is that it’s really a kenning.
ken (v.)
“to know,” Scottish dialect, from Old English cennan “make known, declare, acknowledge” (in late Old English also “to know”), originally “make to know,” causative of cunnan “to become acquainted with, to know” (see can (v.)). Cognate with German kennen, Danish kjende, Swedish känna. Related: Kenned; kenning.
It’s a way of bypassing the usual episteme, the usual analytical mind that wants things piecemeal and regulated. It’s fast, uncompromising and evocative – just like an actual experience. So you know what I mean, even if you don’t agree, and language means I’ve got you. Even without long explanations of the literal truth of all the young people who flock to London in search of a better life, or the inner city kids who fall through the cracks every year. Or even the deals pulled by plutocrats and banks to rig the system...." - The other Cold Albion Blog
