The Apocalypse Happened Only Yesterday

Sonic Apocalypse

Dr. Rinaldi's Horror Cabinet

As I sit here listening to Éliane Radigue’s Triptych Trilogie de la mort, the droning of the waves slashing sonically, the winds riding the capped plunge of an acoustic universe, the hum of throbbing black noise hovering like a ghost in the shadows – the coming and going of some forgotten electrical footprint in my mind, I think about when it all ended. Did it really end? Did I imagine it would be this way? Didn’t we all think it would be something else, something different? As if difference meant not the Same? But of course we were all wrong. But isn’t that the way of thought, error prone, full of blanks, believing one could actually gain a foothold on reality? Find in the gaps, those cracks in time a way through to the Real? As if language and being truly were one as Parmenides hoped. But that’s the drivel…

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