Lababidi’s Palestine Wail calls for the simplest, barest humanity, and it reminds us that loss of life, occupation, and genocide take an impossible toll on everyone.

Digital is what

lay on either side

of a boundary that cannot be passed.

Digital is identity.

Think of a gulch.

The best part of a gulch is that it has created this side and that side.

That is also its worst part.

Digital is the harmonium of excellence.

Analog is the wherewithal, deciduous.

Whatever poetry may be latent in cheesy action films and the average videogame involves the culture object’s accidental surreality told flatly.

Multiple day fasts with sunlight and black coffee, 60 hour work weeks, recreational substances, bootcamp workouts, breathwork classes, beach walks with family and dogs, etc. All became experiments to see if I could push the right buttons to become a well balanced individual. 

I slept like a hot carbon barrier to the earth. In the dark, a further darkness: owl-hoots with my hands attached. I realized there was a kitten living in the corner, in the dream, it had birdhouses for sale.

By showing you how criticism constructs itself, the aspiring critic does not need discursive x-ray vision or to see a collection of essays as so many articulated skeletons standing discretely atop a blue void. All you need is a little time and effort.

I consider losing my appetite to evidence positive moral and ethical standards.

Oh boy do I love explaining to the angry soccer mom that the Pikachu her daughter received is not, in fact, a boy’s toy and that we are only currently carrying Pokémon in all of our Happy Meals™.

Now, at long last, we have an Allen biography. In Greaves, Allen has found the kind of friend, curator, and collaborator every great artist deserves.