Nausinoos
Return to the same light.
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The same code without deciphering.
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The same image come off without expressions, without fractures, without hues, without brightness, waits for the course of existence, of the new imagination, of the new transit.
It is projected and it transcends towards overwritten nothingness.
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Fertilization of void.
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Transposition of the unlimited towards the unlimited.
By Roberto Garcia de Mesa.
Riot City Fallout
Three weeks later when the cops burst through my door, yeah, I admit, I had my regrets. But during the riots I didn’t think about being pulled, and I didn’t care either. You’re living for the moment, not giving a fuck. I still can’t believe it kicked off like that. It was like a chemical reaction, all these ingredients got together then boom, we were running the show. All along Tottenham High Road, cars, buses, buildings on fire, the feds cowering behind their shields. Down the backstreets things were just as lethal. Smaller groupings roaming in the shadows, ambush tactics, guerrilla warfare. I saw this TV crew get beaten to shit, all their gear nicked, every last piece of it.
By Michael Keenaghan.