March 25th, 2017
Episode 9: Brutalism, Time Travel, & Net Privacy
This week, for Three Things, we discuss brutalist architecture—whether it’s a throwback to nostalgic sci fi or a soul-crushing example of urban planning—how time travel can go terribly wrong, and what’s up with net privacy. Should we be concerned that our most intimate moments are so easily accessible? Who would want to access them? And generally speaking are slurring words in each other’s general directions. Enjoy!
March 21st, 2017
Is Still Cool S**t: about S**theads
The Captured Project
The Captured Project is an online collection of drawings by prisonors of people who should be in prison. You can check out more of their amazing work here, and can click on the image to find out what crimes have been committed by Rex Tillerson.
March 20th, 2017
The Excerpt Series
The Last Electrician
Michael S. Judge
Mean density of rubber buckshot thuds against the left side of your chest, where cardiograph blossoms tangled with the disk-image star’s genomic stutter, dulled cartridge juddering newly nerveless across grooves worked into kerogen wax and compressed exoskeleton, the milk we’ve wrung from insect marrow,
eaten sunlight feathering the wet-gate star’s medical imagery with chordate quills of charcoal, vertebral preamps each potential for the signal it might route and amplify to some englobing flesh, a dendrite map dwindling with heat loss till it terminates into such gasping syntax as the glyph must break across to get metabolized,
if partially, erratically, momentum altered by the buildup of its own approaching wreckage, swaddled in fallout, cinders to turn the morning richly gray as carbon-heavy glass, optical track snarled up with the feedback of a cell-disruption star and peaking hard on all immunologic frequencies to matte down any EQ’s osseous smile again, the helpless seething grin of the dentition underneath what meat could lend it the appearance of a face you might interpret, still, even this late, render decidable and then pass fractious inaccurate verdict upon, unsure, as we must be, whether that constitutes a habit more tenacious even than the habit of survival or survival’s best remaining chance.
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March 19th, 2017
Apocryphal Histories of the Parasite
Myself From a Great Height (Pt2)
In this second installment in the story of post-apocalyptic Pittsburgh and one strung out man’s effort to get to the bottom of Chinook Electricity and his own unraveling in the world, we witness buildings come alive as they implode, and come face to face with some very unhuman characters in an otherwise abandoned park down by the Point, and generally speaking things just get that much uglier as we continue to follow Jackson Cole down his ever-constricting hole. All music produced and performed by Paul Anthony Medrano.
March 18th, 2017
Is Still Good S**t: in Harrogate
The above painting by Bali Kaur is a masterful expression of her on-going and ever-evolving aesthetic. Kaur began her work as a printmaker but over her twenty-some-year career has explored a variety of techniques and media. We here at Mutable are excited to see how her vision and her masterful understanding of space, color, and the dynamics of place continue to change and grow. Overland II is just one of several pieces currently on display at Silson Contemporary, 17 Harlow Oval, Harrogate, HG2 0DS. The gallery is open Fridays 10.30am – 4.00pm, and one weekend a month, 10.30am – 4.00pm, on Saturday and Sunday.
March 17th, 2017
Episode 8: Trappist 1, Moon Tourists, Bob Caution
This week on 3 Things, we look into the possibility of colonizing one of the planets orbiting Trappist One, Elon Musk’s claims about taking tourists to the moon in 2018, and remember our old friend Bob Caution, the man who once lived in the basement of the Coolidge Corner Theater, and days gone by when living in the basements of theaters was a thing. Enjoy!
March 16th, 2017
Who is to be Believed
Kafka and Credibility in the Age of Trump
Franz Kafka had a pretty good read on people. He recognized, among other things, the strange but vital interpersonal rules that enhanced one’s credibility or diminished it, depending on the circumstances and the individuals concerned. If you’re at all familiar with Black Mirror, the Channel Four and Netflix sci-fi / horror series, you might have caught the premiere episode of the third season. It concerns people living in a society where social media popularity translates to real societal value, and affects things as mundane as how people respond to you in passing to those as significant as where you’re allowed to live and work. The human dynamic of this scenario, abandoning the technological component, is quintessential Kafka terrain. One wonders what a depiction of social media would look like in his methodical and capable hands.
No more is Kafka’s talent for descrying nuance in just this sort of human behavior, the concept of what makes one a credible source, on display than in the story, “The Village Schoolmaster [The Giant Mole].” In it, readers are offered information regarding the piquant discovery of an abnormally large mole in the unnamed region’s countryside — hence the bracketed auxiliary title. But the brackets are a much better touch than one might first be given to assume. They hint at the kind of compartmentalization into which the mole is relegated throughout the story’s telling. At first blush it’s a story centering on a peculiar and inexplicable phenomenon not unlike other Kafka stories, such as “The Metamorphosis” and “Blumfeld, an Elderly Bachelor.” Instead, though, it is crafted to speak of issues very different, far less surreal than a giant mole, and much more characteristically human.
Accordingly, the story’s title does not bury the lede. It is, indeed, about the village schoolmaster who discovers the giant mole’s existence, first and foremost. Even more awkwardly it’s told through the first-person narration of a “Mr. So-and-So,” as designated by the village schoolmaster but this is according to the narrator, an individual also referred to as a businessman, and therefore of a rank suggesting he’s held in some esteem by society, esteem it’s safe to presume a lowly schoolmaster is beneath. And so the story begins to show its true nature, describing the contrivances of credibility and those possessing the means to adequately and convincingly argue their case, with all the superfluity accompanying any and every overture or public gesture. The truth can be manufactured, and it often is.
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March 12th, 2017
My Asinine Life
The Metaphysics of Snot
You know it might seem kind of trite considering how everything’s being exploded all over the place by the authoritarians among us, but I wanted to let you all know that I woke up one day without a brain. The other morning I woke up and thought, Gee. Where’d my brain go, only to then have realized that—gosh. Someone’s going to be so upset with me. I should be out parading in front of the fascists and screaming in their faces in a tight-fisted squadron—but I got no brain.
What I mean by this is—wow. I actually just said that. I can say anything and act like it’s actually true. Wow. Like this.
But there are fascists, and persons do need to scream back at them while twisting in and out of these aforementioned fascists’ innards with the playful twists of persons who also could be likened to things always forgetting their thingness and places got their doors shut to themselves as if perhaps there is no place living behind my eyes. These are the people of the world walking, and where are they walking to? Is up really a direction? Have you ever tried to angle yourself straight up?
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