The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Friday, 28 October 2011


1. CG Jung calls "Inflation" a dangerous overwhelming break-in of archetypic contents from the collective unconscious into the human consciousness with the possible result of psychosis

2. "Inflation", a cosmologic term, see

3. "Inflation", an economic term, see

4. "Inflation", Hans Richter calls his experimental avantgarde short film from 1928, "a counterpoint of declining people and growing zeros"

5. "In God We Trust" (2010) by Todeskino Collective, T.C., an experimental avantgarde digital video, starring the one dollar bill, George Washington, the eye in the pyramid etc. and the x-ray watermarks of the human body, "In principio erat verbum et verbum erat apud deum et verbum erat deus." (Joh. 1,1)

Thursday, 27 October 2011


So you're telling me with just one
Your entire world will slither,
Like the snake you are,
Back into a shattered cup
Careening between this world and the next,
And I'm speaking with a mouth
Burnt to ashes
By the inferno in my SOUL.
I have ice in my veins and an

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

We make films not to feed children but to feed projectors...

We make films not to feed children but to feed projectors...

The Doors of Misconception - Babalith

Wednesday, 19 October 2011


will resume transmissions soon enough once i complete the whittling down of a pine tree into a thin enough spike to remove the tightly sewn x stitches binding my mouth and mind.. finally freed my hands of their bounded catgut twine as evident after 21 long days of rubbing them back and forth on the floor in a furtive, almost masturbatory manner. things will improve. of this, i am sure.


Sunday, 9 October 2011

We Alone

We Alone

28"x 34"
acrylic/fluted sbs

Inspired by "Anthem" the Ayn Rand novel

Abandoned spaces - I am home

I came here to find -- and found nothing
I came here for echoes of voices I thought to be familiar -- gone
Delusion is grand!

Pins cannot drop suspended in limbo

I love this nothing; I love this limbo

This is where my voice is lost and
This is where silence screams at the world
This is where the world screams at silence

Shhhh! Scream as loudly as you must


Why not just keep everyone in the dark and make them feel stupid if they ask questions?