The King and The Revolution
There were times during 2006 when I wondered whether Jonathan Schwarz's A Tiny Revolution and Simbaud's King of Zembla would dry up and blow away.
I tried to reassure myself that these are two very talented individuals who were probably just working on some project or another because, hey, bloggin' don't pay the bills (unless you're one of the irritating megabloggers directing contributions to the DNC). But I know how easy it is to say fuck it and walk away. Sometimes, for the sake of one's health and well-being, it's a necessity.
Much to my relief, each of these weirdo luminaries has returned to form.
In the Age of [dis]Information, those who connect the dots - assembling lucid and often horrifying narratives from scattered shards of facts - are the muses of resistance, illuminating the spiderweb fissures marking the weak spots of The Monolith's armor.
Let the smiting begin.
I tried to reassure myself that these are two very talented individuals who were probably just working on some project or another because, hey, bloggin' don't pay the bills (unless you're one of the irritating megabloggers directing contributions to the DNC). But I know how easy it is to say fuck it and walk away. Sometimes, for the sake of one's health and well-being, it's a necessity.
Much to my relief, each of these weirdo luminaries has returned to form.
In the Age of [dis]Information, those who connect the dots - assembling lucid and often horrifying narratives from scattered shards of facts - are the muses of resistance, illuminating the spiderweb fissures marking the weak spots of The Monolith's armor.
Let the smiting begin.
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