An illustrated, semi-autobiographical, pre-apocalyptic black comedy addressing ideas related to antinatalism, philosophical pessimism, and the desperation of declining political authority, among others. Detailing the hallucinatory suffering and decline of a few loosely connected individuals living as ignorant harbingers of the impending catastrophe — each character representing the failed pursuit of conflicting personal ideals leading to horrific conclusions for us all.
Author Kevin Pinkerton
Co-Authors Mikki S.J. Caplan and Thomas Stetson
Artwork by Thomas Stetson
Music by Mikki S.J. Caplan
The cityscape lighting like star stained teeth and toxic runoff worsened the ambiance, as phantasmic as the prelude to a mechanized ragnarok, when the expression of every passerby had flashed its traumas as their directions were crossed. A procession of absurdists and idiots — men remade strange — launched off the same cement embankment to die sternums punctured by rebar. And that bitch too. Kay tasted salted brine like the vaginal tidal wave destined to take men off the earth. She stalked her hooded, shadowed, almost homesafe when she accosted her target and punctured her uterus with a hypodermic, injected her new patented acid to dissolve her womb infected with fetus inside before corroding her remaining organs and killing her in the worst possible terror and pain, all of which gave relief — held by adoring darkness, and the music made behind her. Like concurrent nocturnes laid over death industrial.
Excerpt from Chapter 15