backdraft

SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS

was born in 2008 in the wake of a weblog explosion through a kinship with NYC ’70s thoughtful noise archivisits, Art Decade. Alone and infested with PTSD in his 22nd floor Gorbals apartment, given to fits of a dark bent, ib decided over a glass of fortified wine to take a stab at it. To just do it. Step off the roof and add his “voice” to the scores beginning to percolate down inside a glass onion CRT monitor driven by ethernet search engines. Hit the return key running and keep sprinting until we duly run out of real estate.

Well, I ran out of gas maybe on more than occasion, I fell asleep in the cheap seats for the better part of several years, but here I still occasionally lurk.

Caught squnting into sunlight from his 22nd storey haunt. Unwittingly ready to embark on a journey south to where all bathwater eddies in the end. The drain, dude. The fucking drain. All trains due south and the incessant plucking and pulling on broken wisdom teeth.