The Selfcleaning World

stories & images from a world on the edge..

Category: Original Art

Is this Social?

IMG_2732 cropped solar invert cropped


They want your image  they want your soul  as much as you can give  they’ll take it all

They want information   they want consent   monetizing us   down to the last cent

Like we’re just products lined up on a shelf   a piece of meat   cut and paste yourself

Inside out   we’ve been swallowed whole   identities merging   we’re getting sold


Feeding the machines  replacing skin with glass  we’re raising imitations  Is this social?

How many friends   can you pretend to have   and what’s your status   Is this social?


Reject their probing eyes   their sucking needle lies   keep some of it inside


They’re tracking tendencies averaging us out if we could disappear we’d find a way out

Consuming the consumers   the pitchman is fake

he swallows his own tail   he is a walking snake


Eyes stapled to a screen  their minds all gone   do you want that   just another Replicon

Manufacturing a sense of belonging   but we don’t need them to tell us who we are


Listen to the song ‘Is this Social’ by Destroy Clocks here:

DestroyClocks art 4

Destroy Clocks

DestroyClocks art 2 minus script

Destroy Clocks.  Abolish time.  Break the chains of causality.  Really, how badly do you need time?  For precise social order, for appointments?  Peel off the temporal dimension.

Destroy Clocks is my new band and I’m stoked to be playing shows and sharing the recording of our 6 song EP.  Stream or download it for free from our bandcamp page:

Destroy Clocks crashes the barricades, spills through walls and pushes exploration to the brink with hypnotic and arousing jams.  Drawing from shoegaze, jazz, doom, hardcore and psychedelia among other inspirations, the group’s free form mind will draw you in and turn you out.  Fusing ambient keyboards, volatile guitar and propulsive rhythms the trio calls forth bewitching grooves from the percolating chaos.



Acrylic paint, collage and pastel on canvas, 2013.

The object in the background is based on a sighting in the night sky during the summer of 1998 in Saskatoon.  I was sitting outside with my friend Muxx, taking a break from jamming in my parents’ basement, and we were both looking up when balls of light in a triangular formation appeared from out of the northern sky moving south.  The lights appeared to be part of a single massive V-shaped object, which made no sound as it passed overhead.  We looked at each other in amazement – what the.. did you just see that?  If Muxx wasn’t with me I would have questioned my own faculties.  The incident stayed in the back of my mind for years.  Then an internet search revealed that similar sightings have been reported throughout North America going back decades.  The craft are known as ‘big black deltas’, BBDs.  It is speculated that they are advanced U.S. Defense Department craft featuring some type of non-combustion propulsion system, hence their silence.  But who knows. . .

Eyes aglow in the night  . . .  sensing you, sensing me  . . .  something on wing afoot.

Naja Naja Kaouthia

Katinla, Goddess of Snakes, Rivers and Markets

More and more animals are starting to walk upright.  What’s happening?  Some kind of reality wave washed over everything.

There are reports of chimpanzees who seem to have evolved, that they’ve learned how to use fire and are burning each other’s villages.

Minds bent against it, trying to figure it out…  Things have changed and it doesn’t make sense and no one knows what’s happening.

Like the fuzzy blob that started hovering over my right shoulder and following me around.  It just hovers there constantly and I don’t know what it is.

According to fate researcher and internet shaman Isaac Candlemas, the Cosmic Cobra has sunk its fangs into the world.  As good a theory as any.  The venom is working its way through the planet, and the effects we’re feeling are akin to the planet’s immune response.  Earth’s reality swelling up.

There was already enough in the world to go mad over without this.

A neanderthal was suddenly beamed into this year, found itself downtown not knowing what to do.  I can sympathize.  The neanderthal backs up against a wall and watches people.  Uncomprehending primal eyes surveying its surroundings…  what is this place?

Eventually the neanderthal will lash out.  If it cannot get food.  In time if it cannot get sex.  It will be arrested for indecent exposure, lost to history.

Who will slay the Cosmic Cobra and save earth?  No one will, we don’t have weapons powerful enough.  We’re not even acknowledging its existence or the reality of the plane it resides on.

Our only option is to wait it out, perhaps it will get bored with us and slink off into the void, and then the planetary fever can subside.


Above artwork : Katinla, Goddess of Snakes, Rivers and Markets. 2013. Paint, pastel, collage.

6ixth Progression

Detail from ‘The Sixth Progression’ : mixed media, paint + collage, circa 2009


Had I convinced Imagine that I was on her side, that she could trust me with her story?  I waited for days and then weeks without hearing from her.

I pursued other lines of investigation, gathering information on the early development of the Calculix.  It began with research on entopic light, which is related to the coloured patterns created when pressing on closed eyes.  The goal was to track light direction and its perception in an attempt to situate the mind’s will in matter.  A functionality was discerned, which was fed into an animator to produce a computational model of the phenomenon.  The model suggested how a physical construct might be constructed from light, and this gave birth to the vibrorb, an early incarnation of the Calculix.

The vibrorb appeared as a shimmering ball of energy criss-crossed by lines.  A series of codices were formed by the migrating lines, whose meaning was taken to be a function of the neural configuration of the ‘operator’, the person psychically linked to the system.  The model was further refined by employing the neural signatures of meditating monks and other highly attuned participants, including shamans in the throes of entheogenic intoxication.  Energy scaling was applied to the model and the Calculix was born.

One afternoon I received a single worded text: Coffee?  Imagine Summer wanted to meet at the spot we had our encounter several weeks ago.

She entered the coffeehouse wearing sunglasses and an autumn sweater, on which fell her windswept brunette locks.

“I’ve been thinking about our conversation, and I wanted to talk.”  Bottled up for too long now her story gushed.

“One of its functions is to navigate and display all the untaken routes in your life’s decision tree, showing the choices made and all the ones that weren’t.  It will calculate where you could have ended up, what you could have been.  They’re transmitted in flashes once neural proximity is established, often just by touching.”

She recounted entering the holding chamber and, at the urging of her supervisor, placing her hands on the glowing object suspended at the heart of the device.

“I became aware of ancient objections, saw faces being unmasked, priceless sad information…  It’s like rolling round dice, bets are never precisely settled.”

She was having difficulty putting her specific experience into words.  She believed the Calculix showed her that life is a test, one of billions, used to confirm or deny universal truth.

I asked her why she agreed to it, taking the risk in conducting these tests, and she said it was an interesting question.  She suddenly seized up, as if just realizing she was confiding to a near total stranger, of whose motives she should be more suspicious.

I began talking about myself to take the pressure off.  I told her that my pure science days were behind me, that I was now a writer researching the history of the Calculix.

“I can’t tell you much more from my end” she finally said.  “But I have something you might want.”  She handed me a file for upload to memstrat.

“What is it?”

“We talked briefly about Bern Hijkl.  It’s his experimental trials, the unfiltered transcripts from the lab archives.  Promise me you’ll keep your source a secret.

“I will, definitely.  Thanks for your help, Imagine.”

“It’ll be worth it if what you find out can help Bern and the others.”

Was she including herself in “others”?  We finished our coffiene and went our separate ways.

[Unbottled is Part 4 of The Calculix Series]


A fleeting shape at the corner of my eye and an earthy smell like ferns.  I turn to see a liquidy movement of limbs pouring forth.  The thing speaks as it walks on hands and then feet, words that are like packed dirt, a baritone filling my ears like mud.

“Ah child of the sun, come.. come.  Tell me the width of your day, the depth of your night.”

The words are visible like a brown mist of hieroglyphs seeping from its mouth before dissolving, its breath smelling of curry, swamp gas, and burnt insects. It is Yogatron.


Sleep Taxonomy

Mixed media art, completed in winter 2008/’09 for my parents’ dining room.

Colours were chosen to match the room.

‘Sleep Taxonomy’ : acrylic paint + collage.

Work in progress..