While the statement "you are prolific" is factually accurate, it lacks the nuance necessary to describe the nature of the unfurling body of work. This is synthesis; evolution and devourment. Digestion and excrement. Urolangia and cannibalism. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. Presented before an audience of unknown number and interest is a record of where Straight Panic has been, where the World is going, and the vacuum once inhabited by the Future gapes. This isn't back-sliding or an editorial "return to form," but now, on my own again, the melancholy of "homecoming" seems to fit like an old tee, once outgrown, now a size too big. There is an absence and space within the claustrophobia isolation can bring. The glut of time and lack of obligations becomes a weighted blanket woven out of negative space. The sheer innumerable possibilities negate their own potential, smother, collapse upon themselves. How ironic, in which an identity based in part upon non-procreation (antinatalism), would still manage to replicate the future conditions for its own continued existence. Here are the failures and disconnects: 1. Bloodline 2. Romance 3. Socialization Time is a flat circle. Thomas Boettner Providence, May 2024 Artwork by DJ Speedsick
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