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Songs (10)
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Malfunction is not an option — the water on Mars will hold the laser arch
Minimal caravans, sacrosanct voices, traverse the void. Of every ancient network, only transthings remain, obsessively a name
If only consolation were counterculture—but instead, a whiskey, a pill, a few noisy scuffles as bodies jostle for space, the distracted air of customers who have no more stories to tell—the songs and movies have taken them all, take of of them...
The Zombie prophecy states that all statues and works of art will come to life and hunt us down. Btw, do not worry, This is a Figure Dance, like a lingering-tangoo
Transitional. The market for artificial life continues to languish — what would you do when it’s booming but isn’t widespread enough for you to be considered truly alive?
I am an ambassador for a planet that is reminiscent only of engines, motion and music
Finally, meet your hypothetical eternity hyper-anthropo partner
To give a voice to the insects and the undergrowth, in the place where she was killed and buried
Gentle Waves Eastern Laughter — carried away by an uneasy wind, and you discuss it with your Lacanian psychiatrist
The Ayahuascan Paradox, Friendly Trans-Automaton, Sensitive Determination — Conscious Deviances at ScaleStake
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