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, 30 September 2011

Thanatokinesis

call it a LOW DEFINITION or NO DEFINITION pixel-autopsy
medi-cine

Solve et coagula

solve and bind, 16mm handpainted found footage
there are two versions, one silent 16mm without digital editing, the other with a digital John Zorn soundtrack added



Wednesday, 28 September 2011

mimic


Mimic

            Last week I met a guy in a pub. He was random of course, the pub was deliberate, well, habitual. Anyway, this guy could do amazing vocal impressions of the famous and slightly known. Problem was he could only do the impression once, ask him to repeat a mimicry and he’d find that he couldn’t. After a few brilliant impressions I turned my attention to sipping at my drink, and he to talking about his day. Christ could he talk! He talked about pineapples being 5p each at Apples and Things the grocers. I glanced at him and for a moment, just a moment, he looked exactly like a pineapple. I went back to my drink and he to talking. He started nattering on about the realistic dildos at his favourite sex shop, Felch and Sons. Bored I looked at him yammering there in the deliberate pub and thought to myself, you fucking dickhead!

Adopted By A Cat

Saturday, 24 September 2011

Friday, 23 September 2011

fubar


      I met a man in a bar. A gold bar, an ingot in which we were encased. Being a soft malleable metal we made small incremental movements and eked out space for further more elaborate movements, gradually making ourselves at home. Any old road, he told me in, the small cave we had formed, about the time he tripped up a child in Autumn mist. It - he reported – stared back at him, incredulous, in uniform, in anxieties. Brown leaves – he told me drooling – fell about them in the moments stasis, in the formaldehyde freeze. “Happy times” he said, pressing against the newly carved space.

Monday, 19 September 2011

++

...

you came at night by way of train, steam hissing through a clustered canopy of skeletal trees that filtered light from a thousand days of chaos.
such impromptu behaviors burned your likeness into the glass wall- a secret language written in fluid, caustic.

Friday, 16 September 2011

Thursday, 8 September 2011

£
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£
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£
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Criminals come with silk purses.

Saturday, 3 September 2011

Thursday, 1 September 2011


Last Chance To Fly With Me


0015 survey of Classwar Karaoke

Dear friends of Classwar Karaoke,

Please note that 0015 survey is now published... its 63 participants, with 53 pieces of music and 12 short-films, crave your attention, your downloading, and your spreading the news like wild fire everywhere, please!

We hope you enjoy this collosal survey of well over 6 hours! The music is here via free music archive and the films are here via youtube. The texts are here on the CWK blog and the images are here on the CWK facebook. The survey will be posted at internet archive, as usual, over the next day or so, also.

Please enjoy and let us know what you think at mail@classwarkaraoke.com

0015 survey is dedicated to our wonderful absent friend, Jaan Patterson - currently betweewn broadband providers! He'll be back soon!

Very best wishes,

Anthony and Adrian x x