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'The Tale of Inspector Legrasse'

4/8/2017

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​by ​ H. P. Lovecraft
Picture
The older matters which had made the sculptor’s dream and bas-relief so significant to my uncle formed the subject of the second half of his long manuscript. Once before, it appears, Professor Angell had seen the hellish outlines of the nameless monstrosity, puzzled over the unknown hieroglyphics, and heard the ominous syllables which can be rendered only as “Cthulhu”, and all this in so stirring and horrible a connexion that it is small wonder he pursued young Wilcox with queries and demands for data. 
​This earlier experience had come in 1908, seventeen years before, when the American Archaeological Society held its annual meeting in St. Louis. Professor Angell, as befitted one of his authority and attainments, had had a prominent part in all the deliberations; and was one of the first to be approached by the several outsiders who took advantage of the convocation to offer questions for correct answering and problems for expert solution. 
The chief of these outsiders, and in a short time the focus of interest for the entire meeting, was a commonplace-looking middle-aged man who had travelled all the way from New Orleans for certain special information unobtainable from any local source. His name was John Raymond Legrasse, and he was by profession an Inspector of Police. With him he bore the subject of his visit, a grotesque, repulsive, and apparently very ancient stone statuette whose origin he was at a loss to determine. It must not be fancied that Inspector Legrasse had the least interest in archaeology. On the contrary, his wish for enlightenment was prompted by purely professional considerations. The statuette, idol, fetish, or whatever it was, had been captured some months before in the wooded swamps south of New Orleans during a raid on a supposed voodoo meeting; and so singular and hideous were the rites connected with it, that the police could not but realise that they had stumbled on a dark cult totally unknown to them, and infinitely more diabolic than even the blackest of the African voodoo circles. Of its origin, apart from the erratic and unbelievable tales extorted from the captured members, absolutely nothing was to be discovered; hence the anxiety of the police for any antiquarian lore which might help them to place the frightful symbol, and through it track down the cult to its fountain-head. 
Inspector Legrasse was scarcely prepared for the sensation which his offering created. One sight of the thing had been enough to throw the assembled men of science into a state of tense excitement, and they lost no time in crowding around him to gaze at the diminutive figure whose utter strangeness and air of genuinely abysmal antiquity hinted so potently at unopened and archaic vistas. No recognised school of sculpture had animated this terrible object, yet centuries and even thousands of years seemed recorded in its dim and greenish surface of unplaceable stone. 
​The figure, which was finally passed slowly from man to man for close and careful study, was between seven and eight inches in height, and of exquisitely artistic workmanship. It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing, which seemed instinct with a fearsome and unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated corpulence, and squatted evilly on a rectangular block or pedestal covered with undecipherable characters. The tips of the wings touched the back edge of the block, the seat occupied the centre, whilst the long, curved claws of the doubled-up, crouching hind legs gripped the front edge and extended a quarter of the way down toward the bottom of the pedestal. The cephalopod head was bent forward, so that the ends of the facial feelers brushed the backs of huge fore paws which clasped the croucher’s elevated knees. The aspect of the whole was abnormally life-like, and the more subtly fearful because its source was so totally unknown. Its vast, awesome, and incalculable age was unmistakable; yet not one link did it shew with any known type of art belonging to civilisation’s youth—or indeed to any other time. Totally separate and apart, its very material was a mystery; for the soapy, greenish-black stone with its golden or iridescent flecks and striations resembled nothing familiar to geology or mineralogy. The characters along the base were equally baffling; and no member present, despite a representation of half the world’s expert learning in this field, could form the least notion of even their remotest linguistic kinship. They, like the subject and material, belonged to something horribly remote and distinct from mankind as we know it; something frightfully suggestive of old and unhallowed cycles of life in which our world and our conceptions have no part. 
And yet, as the members severally shook their heads and confessed defeat at the Inspector’s problem, there was one man in that gathering who suspected a touch of bizarre familiarity in the monstrous shape and writing, and who presently told with some diffidence of the odd trifle he knew. This person was the late William Channing Webb, Professor of Anthropology in Princeton University, and an explorer of no slight note. Professor Webb had been engaged, forty-eight years before, in a tour of Greenland and Iceland in search of some Runic inscriptions which he failed to unearth; and whilst high up on the West Greenland coast had encountered a singular tribe or cult of degenerate Esquimaux whose religion, a curious form of devil-worship, chilled him with its deliberate bloodthirstiness and repulsiveness. It was a faith of which other Esquimaux knew little, and which they mentioned only with shudders, saying that it had come down from horribly ancient aeons before ever the world was made. Besides nameless rites and human sacrifices there were certain queer hereditary rituals addressed to a supreme elder devil or tornasuk; and of this Professor Webb had taken a careful phonetic copy from an aged angekok or wizard-priest, expressing the sounds in Roman letters as best he knew how. But just now of prime significance was the fetish which this cult had cherished, and around which they danced when the aurora leaped high over the ice cliffs. It was, the professor stated, a very crude bas-relief of stone, comprising a hideous picture and some cryptic writing. And so far as he could tell, it was a rough parallel in all essential features of the bestial thing now lying before the meeting. 
This data, received with suspense and astonishment by the assembled members, proved doubly exciting to Inspector Legrasse; and he began at once to ply his informant with questions. Having noted and copied an oral ritual among the swamp cult-worshippers his men had arrested, he besought the professor to remember as best he might the syllables taken down amongst the diabolist Esquimaux. There then followed an exhaustive comparison of details, and a moment of really awed silence when both detective and scientist agreed on the virtual identity of the phrase common to two hellish rituals so many worlds of distance apart. What, in substance, both the Esquimaux wizards and the Louisiana swamp-priests had chanted to their kindred idols was something very like this—the word-divisions being guessed at from traditional breaks in the phrase as chanted aloud:
“Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.”
​Legrasse had one point in advance of Professor Webb, for several among his mongrel prisoners had repeated to him what older celebrants had told them the words meant. This text, as given, ran something like this:
“In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.”
​And now, in response to a general and urgent demand, Inspector Legrasse related as fully as possible his experience with the swamp worshippers; telling a story to which I could see my uncle attached profound significance. It savoured of the wildest dreams of mythmaker and theosophist, and disclosed an astonishing degree of cosmic imagination among such half-castes and pariahs as might be least expected to possess it.
​On November 1st, 1907, there had come to the New Orleans police a frantic summons from the swamp and lagoon country to the south. The squatters there, mostly primitive but good-natured descendants of Lafitte’s men, were in the grip of stark terror from an unknown thing which had stolen upon them in the night. It was voodoo, apparently, but voodoo of a more terrible sort than they had ever known; and some of their women and children had disappeared since the malevolent tom-tom had begun its incessant beating far within the black haunted woods where no dweller ventured. There were insane shouts and harrowing screams, soul-chilling chants and dancing devil-flames; and, the frightened messenger added, the people could stand it no more. 
​So a body of twenty police, filling two carriages and an automobile, had set out in the late afternoon with the shivering squatter as a guide. At the end of the passable road they alighted, and for miles splashed on in silence through the terrible cypress woods where day never came. Ugly roots and malignant hanging nooses of Spanish moss beset them, and now and then a pile of dank stones or fragment of a rotting wall intensified by its hint of morbid habitation a depression which every malformed tree and every fungous islet combined to create. At length the squatter settlement, a miserable huddle of huts, hove in sight; and hysterical dwellers ran out to cluster around the group of bobbing lanterns. The muffled beat of tomtoms was now faintly audible far, far ahead; and a curdling shriek came at infrequent intervals when the wind shifted. A reddish glare, too, seemed to filter through pale undergrowth beyond the endless avenues of forest night. Reluctant even to be left alone again, each one of the cowed squatters refused point-blank to advance another inch toward the scene of unholy worship, so Inspector Legrasse and his nineteen colleagues plunged on unguided into black arcades of horror that none of them had ever trod before.
​The region now entered by the police was one of traditionally evil repute, substantially unknown and untraversed by white men. There were legends of a hidden lake unglimpsed by mortal sight, in which dwelt a huge, formless white polypous thing with luminous eyes; and squatters whispered that batwinged devils flew up out of caverns in inner earth to worship it at midnight. They said it had been there before d’Iberville, before La Salle, before the Indians, and before even the wholesome beasts and birds of the woods. It was nightmare itself, and to see it was to die. But it made men dream, and so they knew enough to keep away. The present voodoo orgy was, indeed, on the merest fringe of this abhorred area, but that location was bad enough; hence perhaps the very place of the worship had terrified the squatters more than the shocking sounds and incidents. 
Only poetry or madness could do justice to the noises heard by Legrasse’s men as they ploughed on through the black morass toward the red glare and muffled tom-toms. There are vocal qualities peculiar to men, and vocal qualities peculiar to beasts; and it is terrible to hear the one when the source should yield the other. Animal fury and orgiastic license here whipped themselves to daemoniac heights by howls and squawking ecstacies that tore and reverberated through those nighted woods like pestilential tempests from the gulfs of hell. Now and then the less organized ululation would cease, and from what seemed a well-drilled chorus of hoarse voices would rise in sing-song chant that hideous phrase or ritual: “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.” 
​Then the men, having reached a spot where the trees were thinner, came suddenly in sight of the spectacle itself. Four of them reeled, one fainted, and two were shaken into a frantic cry which the mad cacophony of the orgy fortunately deadened. Legrasse dashed swamp water on the face of the fainting man, and all stood trembling and nearly hypnotised with horror.
​In a natural glade of the swamp stood a grassy island of perhaps an acre’s extent, clear of trees and tolerably dry. On this now leaped and twisted a more indescribable horde of human abnormality than any but a Sime or an Angarola could paint. Void of clothing, this hybrid spawn were braying, bellowing, and writhing about a monstrous ring-shaped bonfire; in the centre of which, revealed by occasional rifts in the curtain of flame, stood a great granite monolith some eight feet in height; on top of which, incongruous in its diminutiveness, rested the noxious carven statuette. From a wide circle of ten scaffolds set up at regular intervals with the flame-girt monolith as a centre hung, head downward, the oddly marred bodies of the helpless squatters who had disappeared. It was inside this circle that the ring of worshippers jumped and roared, the general direction of the mass motion being from left to right in endless Bacchanal between the ring of bodies and the ring of fire. 
​It may have been only imagination and it may have been only echoes which induced one of the men, an excitable Spaniard, to fancy he heard antiphonal responses to the ritual from some far and unillumined spot deeper within the wood of ancient legendry and horror. This man, Joseph D. Galvez, I later met and questioned; and he proved distractingly imaginative. He indeed went so far as to hint of the faint beating of great wings, and of a glimpse of shining eyes and a mountainous white bulk beyond the remotest trees—but I suppose he had been hearing too much native superstition. 
Actually, the horrified pause of the men was of comparatively brief duration. Duty came first; and although there must have been nearly a hundred mongrel celebrants in the throng, the police relied on their firearms and plunged determinedly into the nauseous rout. For five minutes the resultant din and chaos were beyond description. Wild blows were struck, shots were fired, and escapes were made; but in the end Legrasse was able to count some forty-seven sullen prisoners, whom he forced to dress in haste and fall into line between two rows of policemen. Five of the worshippers lay dead, and two severely wounded ones were carried away on improvised stretchers by their fellow-prisoners. The image on the monolith, of course, was carefully removed and carried back by Legrasse. 
Examined at headquarters after a trip of intense strain and weariness, the prisoners all proved to be men of a very low, mixed-blooded, and mentally aberrant type. Most were seamen, and a sprinkling of Negroes and mulattoes, largely West Indians or Brava Portuguese from the Cape Verde Islands, gave a colouring of voodooism to the heterogeneous cult. But before many questions were asked, it became manifest that something far deeper and older than Negro fetichism was involved. Degraded and ignorant as they were, the creatures held with surprising consistency to the central idea of their loathsome faith. 
​They worshipped, so they said, the Great Old Ones who lived ages before there were any men, and who came to the young world out of the sky. Those Old Ones were gone now, inside the earth and under the sea; but their dead bodies had told their secrets in dreams to the first men, who formed a cult which had never died. This was that cult, and the prisoners said it had always existed and always would exist, hidden in distant wastes and dark places all over the world until the time when the great priest Cthulhu, from his dark house in the mighty city of R’lyeh under the waters, should rise and bring the earth again beneath his sway. Some day he would call, when the stars were ready, and the secret cult would always be waiting to liberate him. 
Meanwhile no more must be told. There was a secret which even torture could not extract. Mankind was not absolutely alone among the conscious things of earth, for shapes came out of the dark to visit the faithful few. But these were not the Great Old Ones. No man had ever seen the Old Ones. The carven idol was great Cthulhu, but none might say whether or not the others were precisely like him. No one could read the old writing now, but things were told by word of mouth. The chanted ritual was not the secret—that was never spoken aloud, only whispered. The chant meant only this: “In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming​.”
Only two of the prisoners were found sane enough to be hanged, and the rest were committed to various institutions. All denied a part in the ritual murders, and averred that the killing had been done by Black Winged Ones which had come to them from their immemorial meeting-place in the haunted wood. But of those mysterious allies no coherent account could ever be gained. What the police did extract, came mainly from the immensely aged mestizo named Castro, who claimed to have sailed to strange ports and talked with undying leaders of the cult in the mountains of China. 
Old Castro remembered bits of hideous legend that paled the speculations of theosophists and made man and the world seem recent and transient indeed. There had been aeons when other Things ruled on the earth, and They had had great cities. Remains of Them, he said the deathless Chinamen had told him, were still to be found as Cyclopean stones on islands ​in the Pacific. They all died vast epochs of time before men came, but there were arts which could revive Them when the stars had come round again to the right positions in the cycle of eternity. They had, indeed, come themselves from the stars, and brought Their images with Them. 
​These Great Old Ones, Castro continued, were not composed altogether of flesh and blood. They had shape—for did not this star-fashioned image prove it?—but that shape was not made of matter. When the stars were right, They could plunge from world to world through the sky; but when the stars were wrong, They could not live. But although They no longer lived, They would never really die. They all lay in stone houses in Their great city of R’lyeh, preserved by the spells of mighty Cthulhu for a glorious resurrection when the stars and the earth might once more be ready for Them. But at that time some force from outside must serve to liberate Their bodies. The spells that preserved Them intact likewise prevented Them from making an initial move, and They could only lie awake in the dark and think whilst uncounted millions of years rolled by. They knew all that was occurring in the universe, for Their mode of speech was transmitted thought. Even now They talked in Their tombs. When, after infinities of chaos, the first men came, the Great Old Ones spoke to the sensitive among them by moulding their dreams; for only thus could Their language reach the fleshly minds of mammals. 
​Then, whispered Castro, those first men formed the cult around small idols which the Great Ones shewed them; idols brought in dim eras from dark stars. That cult would never die till the stars came right again, and the secret priests would take great Cthulhu from His tomb to revive His subjects and resume His rule of earth. The time would be easy to know, for then mankind would have become as the Great Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom. Meanwhile the cult, by appropriate rites, must keep alive the memory of those ancient ways and shadow forth the prophecy of their return. 
In the elder time chosen men had talked with the entombed Old Ones in dreams, but then something happened. The great stone city R’lyeh, with its monoliths and sepulchres, had sunk beneath the waves; and the deep waters, full of the one primal mystery through which not even thought can pass, had cut off the spectral intercourse. But memory never died, and the high-priests said that the city would rise again when the stars were right. Then came out of the earth the black spirits of earth, mouldy and shadowy, and full of dim rumours picked up in caverns beneath forgotten sea-bottoms. But of them old Castro dared not speak much. He cut himself off hurriedly, and no amount of persuasion or subtlety could elicit more in this direction. The size of the Old Ones, too, he curiously declined to mention. Of the cult, he said ​that he thought the centre lay amid the pathless desert of Arabia, where Irem, the City of Pillars, dreams hidden and untouched. It was not allied to the European witch-cult, and was virtually unknown beyond its members. No book had ever really hinted of it, though the deathless Chinamen said that there were double meanings in the Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred which the initiated might read as they chose, especially the much-discussed couplet:
“That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die.”
​Legrasse, deeply impressed and not a little bewildered, had inquired in vain concerning the historic affiliations of the cult. Castro, apparently, had told the truth when he said that it was wholly secret. The authorities at Tulane University could shed no light upon either cult or image, and now the detective had come to the highest authorities in the country and met with no more than the Greenland tale of Professor Webb. 
​The feverish interest aroused at the meeting by Legrasse’s tale, corroborated as it was by the statuette, is echoed in the subsequent correspondence of those who attended; although scant mention occurs in the formal publications of the society. Caution is the first care of those accustomed to face occasional charlatanry and imposture. Legrasse for some time lent the image to Professor Webb, but at the latter’s death it was returned to him and remains in his possession, where I viewed it not long ago. It is truly a terrible thing, and unmistakably akin to the dream-sculpture of young Wilcox. 
​That my uncle was excited by the tale of the sculptor I did not wonder, for what thoughts must arise upon hearing, after a knowledge of what Legrasse had learned of the cult, of a sensitive young man who had dreamed not only the figure and exact hieroglyphics of the swamp-found image and the Greenland devil tablet, but had come in his dreams upon at least three of the precise words of the formula uttered alike by Esquimau diabolists and mongrel Louisianans? Professor Angell’s instant start on an investigation of the utmost thoroughness was eminently natural; though privately I suspected young Wilcox of having heard of the cult in some indirect way, and of having invented a series of dreams to heighten and continue the mystery at my uncle’s expense. The dream-narratives and cuttings collected by the professor were, of course, strong corroboration; but the rationalism of my mind and the extravagance of the whole subject led me to adopt what I thought the most sensible conclusions. So, after thoroughly studying the manuscript again and correlating the theosophical and anthropological notes with the cult narrative of Legrasse, I made a trip to Providence to see the sculptor and give him the rebuke I thought proper for so boldly imposing upon a learned and aged man.
​Wilcox still lived alone in the Fleur-de-Lys Building in Thomas Street, a hideous Victorian imitation of seventeenth-century Breton architecture which flaunts its stuccoed front amidst the lovely colonial houses on the ancient hill, and under the very shadow of the finest Georgian steeple in America, I found him at work in his rooms, and at once conceded from the specimens scattered about that his genius is indeed profound and authentic. He will, I believe, some time be heard from as one of the great decadents; for he has crystallised in clay and will one day mirror in marble those nightmares and phantasies which Arthur Machen evokes in prose, and Clark Ashton Smith makes visible in verse and in painting. 
​Dark, frail, and somewhat unkempt in aspect, he turned languidly at my knock and asked me my business without rising. When I told him who I was, he displayed some interest; for my uncle had excited his curiosity in probing his strange dreams, yet had never explained the reason for the study. I did not enlarge his knowledge in this regard, but sought with some subtlety to draw him out. In a short time I became convinced of his absolute sincerity, for he spoke of the dreams in a manner none could mistake. They and their subconscious residuum had influenced his art profoundly, and he shewed me a morbid statue whose contours almost made me shake with the potency of its black suggestion. He could not recall having seen the original of this thing except in his own dream bas-relief, but the outlines had formed themselves insensibly under his hands. It was, no doubt, the giant shape he had raved of in delirium. That he really knew nothing of the hidden cult, save from what my uncle’s relentless catechism had let fall, he soon made clear; and again I strove to think of some way in which he could possibly have received the weird impressions. 
He talked of his dreams in a strangely poetic fashion; making me see with terrible vividness the damp Cyclopean city of slimy green stone— whose geometry, he oddly said, was all wrong—and hear with frightened expectancy the ceaseless, half-mental calling from underground: “Cthulhu fhtagn”, “Cthulhu fhtagn”. These words had formed part of that dread ritual which told of dead Cthulhu’s dream-vigil in his stone vault at R’lyeh, and I felt deeply moved despite my rational beliefs. Wilcox, I was sure, had heard of the cult in some casual way, and had soon forgotten it amidst the mass of his equally weird reading and imagining. Later, by virtue of its sheer impressiveness, it had found subconscious expression in dreams, in the bas-relief, and in the terrible statue I now beheld; so that his imposture upon my uncle had been a very innocent one. The youth was of a type, at once slightly affected and slightly ill-mannered, which I could never like, but I was willing enough now to admit both his genius and his honesty. I took leave of him amicably, and wish him all the success his talent promises. 
The matter of the cult still remained to fascinate me, and at times I had visions of personal fame from researches into its origin and connexions. I visited New Orleans, talked with Legrasse and others of that old-time raiding-party, saw the frightful image, and even questioned such of the mongrel prisoners as still survived. Old Castro, unfortunately, had been dead for some years. What I now heard so graphically at first-hand, though it was really no more than a detailed confirmation of what my uncle had written, excited me afresh; for I felt sure that I was on the track of a very real, very secret, and very ancient religion whose discovery would make me an anthropologist of note. My attitude was still one of absolute materialism, as I wish it still were, and I discounted with almost inexplicable perversity the coincidence of the dream notes and odd cuttings collected by Professor Angell.
One thing I began to suspect, and which I now fear I know, is that my uncle’s death was far from natural. He fell on a narrow hill street leading up from an ancient waterfront swarming with foreign mongrels, after a careless push from a Negro sailor. I did not forget the mixed blood and marine pursuits of the cult-members in Louisiana, and would not be surprised to learn of secret methods and rites and beliefs. Legrasse and his men, it is true, have been let alone; but in Norway a certain seaman who saw things is dead. Might not the deeper inquiries of my uncle after encountering the sculptor’s data have come to sinister ears? I think Professor Angell died because he knew too much, or because he was likely to learn too much. Whether I shall go as he did remains to be seen, for I have learned much now.
The Call of Cthulhu/H. P. Lovecraft/Chapter 2:  The Tale of Inspector Legrasse
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    Felix Guattari - Schizo chaosmosis (Part 2)
    Felix Guattari - 'So What'
    Grey Hat Accelerationism – An emergent hyperstition? Part 1.
    What is Matrix
    McKenzie Wark - Animal Spirits
    McKenzie Wark - A hacker Manifesto (Class)
    McKenzie Wark - A HACKER MANIFESTO (Education)
    McKenzie Wark - A HACKER MANIFESTO (Hacking)
    ​McKenzie Wark- A HACKER MANIFESTO (INFORMATION)
    McKenzie Wark - A HACKER MANIFESTO (Production)
    McKenzie Wark - A Hacker Manifesto (Representation)
    McKenzie Wark - Black Accelerationism
    McKenzie Wark - Chthulucene, Capitalocene, Anthropocene
    McKenzie Wark - Cognitive Capitalism
    McKenzie Wark - Franco ‘Bifo’ Berardi
    McKenzie Wark - From OOO to P(OO)
    McKENZIE WARK - Erik Olin Wright and Class Today
    McKenzie Wark - Molecular Red in Nine Minutes
    McKenzie Wark - Lazzarato and Pasolini
    McKenzie Wark - Spinoza on Speed
    McKenzie Wark - On Wendy Brown
    MCKENZIE wark - Otaku Philosophy (On Hiroki Azuma)
    McKenzie Wark - The Spectacle of Disintegration
    McKenzie Wark - The Capitalocene (On Jason Moore)
    Mark Fisher - Approaching the Eerie
    Mark Fisher - WRITING MACHINES
    Mark Fisher - D/G/Castaneda by Mark Fisher
    MARK FISHER - The Weird And The Eerie (INTRODUCTION)
    Mark Fisher - LEFT HYPERSTITION 1: THE FICTIONS OF CAPITAL
    Mark Fisher - LEFT HYPERSTITION 2: BE UNREALISTIC, CHANGE WHAT'S POSSIBLE
    Mark Fisher - Reality itself is becoming paranoiac
    Max.Ernst - RE (M) O THE R
    Max.Ernst - REMOTHERING 2 / BIG MOTHER (RENAISSANCE)
    Michael James - THE OPPORTUNITY OF NIHILISM
    Michael James - THE POEMEMENON: FORM AS OCCULT TECHNOLOGY | AMY IRELAND
    Speculating Freedom: Addiction, Control and Rescriptive Subjectivity in the Work of William S. Burroughs
    Yvette Granata - THE REPETITION OF GENERIC GNOSTIC MATRICES
    Yvette Granata - SUPERFICIE D E S CONTINENTS
    Wang and Raj - Deep learning
    Interview With William S. Burroughs
    William S. Burroughs, Laughter and the Avant-Garde
    William S. Burroughs - Last Words
    William S. Burroughs- Cutting up Politics (Part 1)
    William S. Burroughs - Cutting up Politics (Part 2)
    Burroughs's Writing Machines
    William S. Burroughs - Fold-ins
    New World Ordure: Burroughs, Globalization and The grotesque
    Nothing Hear Now but the Recordings : Burroughs’s ‘Double Resonance’
    Ron Roberts - The High Priest and the Great Beast at 'The Place of Dead Roads'
    Slavoj Žižek - 'Is there a post-human god?'
    Slavoj Žižek - Welcome To The Desert Of 'Post-Ideology'
    Jacques Ranciere - Disagreement (POLITICS AND PHILOSOPHY)
    Jacques Rancière - POLITICS AND AESTHETICS
    Jacques Ranciere - An Intellectual Adventure (Part 1)
    Jacques Rancière - An Intellectual Adventure (Part 2)
    Jacques Rancière - Of Brains and Leaves,
    Jacques Rancière - A Will Served by an Intelligence
    J.G. Ballard - Towards The Summit
    J.G. Ballard - Fictions Of Every Kind
    J.G. Ballard - Rushing To Paradise
    J.G. Ballard - Why I Want to Fuck Ronald Reagan
    J.G.Ballard - The Assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy Considered as a Downhill Motor Race
    J.G.Ballard - Up!
    J.G.Ballard - into the Drop Zone (High Rise) - part 9
    J.G.Ballard - The Vertical City
    J.G. Ballard - The Evening's Entertainment
    J.G.Ballard - Danger in the Streets of the Sky
    J.G.Ballard - CRASH (Chapter 1)
    J.G. Ballard - Crash (Chapter2)
    J.G.Ballard - Crash ( Chapter 6)
    J.G.Ballard - Crash (Chapter 15)
    J.G.Ballard - CRASH (Chapter 23)
    J. G. Ballard - Crash (Chapter 2 4.)
    Jean Baudrillard - For Whom Does the Knell of Politics Toll?
    Jean Baudrillard - Ecstasy Of The Social
    Jean Baudrillard - Virtuality and Events
    Jean Baudrillard - The Easiest Solutions
    Jean Baudrillard - The Mental Diaspora of the Networks
    Jean Baudrillard - The Intelligence of Evil
    Jason Moore - METABOLISMS, MARXISMS, & OTHER MINDFIELDS
    Joshua Carswell - EVALUATING DELEUZE’S “THE IMAGE OF THOUGHT” (1968) AS A PRECURSOR OF HYPERSTITION // PART 1
    Joshua Carswell - Evaluating Deleuze’s “The Image of Thought” (1968) as a Precursor of Hyperstition // Part 2
    Jose Rosales - ON THE END OF HISTORY & THE DEATH OF DESIRE (NOTES ON TIME AND NEGATIVITY IN BATAILLE’S ‘LETTRE Á X.’)
    Jose Rosales - BERGSONIAN SCIENCE-FICTION: KODWO ESHUN, GILLES DELEUZE, & THINKING THE REALITY OF TIME
    Jose Rosales - WHAT IS IT TO LIVE AND THINK LIKE GILLES CHÂTELET?
    Joseph Nechvatal - On the chaos magic art of Austin Osman Spare
    Lacan - Jouissance
    Horváth Márk and Lovász Ádám - The Emergence of Abstraction: Digital Anti-Aesthetics
    Marshall McLuhan - Les Liaisons Dangereuses
    Marshall McLuhan - MONEY (The Poor Man's Credit Card)
    Michel Foucault - Governmentality (Part 2)
    Michel Foucault - Governmentality (Part 1)
    Michel Foucault - Passion and Delirium (Part 1)
    Michel Foucault - PASSION AND DELIRIUM (Part2)
    Michel Foucault - The Subject and Power
    Michel Foucault and Gilles Deleuze - Intellectuals and power
    Guy Debord - Separation Perfected
    Guy Debord - Towards A Situationist International
    Guy Debord - Society Of The Spectale
    Guy Debord -REVOLUTION AND COUNTERREVOLUTION IN MODERN CULTURE
    Georges Bataille - Eye
    Georges Bataille - Popular Front in the Street
    Georges Battaile - Sacrifices
    Georges Bataille - The Sorcerer's Apprentice
    Georges Bataille - The Sacred Conspiracy
    Georges Bataille - The Pineal eye
    Georges Bataille - The Psychological Structure of Fascism
    Georges Bataille - The Labyrinth
    Georges Bataille - Nietzsche and the Fascists
    Georges battaille - Nietzschean Chronicle
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 1)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 2)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 3)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 4)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 5)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 6)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 7)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 8)
    GILLES DELEUZE - On Spinoza (Part 9)
    GILLES DELEUZE - Capitalism, flows, the decoding of flows, capitalism and schizophrenia, psychoanalysis, Spinoza.
    Gilles deleuze -DIONYSUS AND CHRIST
    Gilles Deleuze - Dionysus and Zarathustra
    Gilles Deleuze - Repetition and Difference (Part 1)
    Gilles deleuze - Repetition and Difference (Part 2)
    Gilles Deleuze - D as in Desire
    Gilles Deleuze - A Portrait Of foucault
    Gilles Deleuze - The Philosophy of The Will
    Gilles Deleuze - Characteristics of Ressentiment
    Gilles Deleuze - Is he Good ? Is he Evil
    Gilles Deleuze - The Dicethrow
    Gilles Deleuze - Postscript On The Societies Of Control
    Gilles deleuze - The Types Of Signs
    Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari - The Imperialism of Oedipus
    Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari ​ - The Experience of Delirium
    Deleuze and Guattari - From Chaos to the Brain
    Deleuze and Guattari - The Plane of Immanence (Part 1)
    Deleuze and Guattari - The Plane Of Immanence (Part 2)
    Deleuze and Guattari - The War Machine is exterior to the State apparatus
    Deleuze and Guattari - Immanence and Desire
    Deleuze and Guattari - The Body Without Organs
    Deleuze and Guattari - Year Zero: Faciality
    Deleuze and Guattari - Desiring-Production
    Deleuze and Guattari - How do you make yourself a 'Body without Organs'?
    Deleuze and Guattari - Memories of a Sorcerer
    Deleuze and Guattari - Memories Of A Haecceity
    Deleuze and Guattari - Memories and Becomings, Points and Blocks
    Deleuze and Guattari - Fear, clarity, power and death
    Deleuze In Conversation With Negri
    Edmund Berger - DELEUZE, GUATTARI AND MARKET ANARCHISM
    Edmund Berger - Grungy “Accelerationism”
    Edmund Berger - Acceleration Now (or how we can stop fearing and learn to love chaos)
    Edmund Berger - Compensation and Escape
    Jasna Koteska - KAFKA, humorist (Part 1)
    Obsolete Capitalism: The strong of the future
    Obsolete Capitalism - THE STRONG OF THE FUTURE. NIETZSCHE’S ACCELERATIONIST FRAGMENT IN DELEUZE AND GUATTARI’S ANTI-OEDIPUS
    Obsolete Capitalism - Acceleration, Revolution and Money in Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-OEdipus (Part 1)
    Obsolete Capitalism - Acceleration, Revolution and Money in Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-OEdipus (Part 2)
    Obsolete Capitalism: Acceleration, Revolution and Money in Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-OEdipus (Part 3)
    Obsolete Capitalism - Acceleration, Revolution and Money in Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-OEdipus (Part 4)
    Obsolete Capitalism: Acceleration, Revolution and Money in Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-OEdipus (Part 5)
    Obsolete Capitalism - Deleuze and the algorithm of the Revolution
    Obsolete Capitalism - Dromology, Bolidism and Marxist Accelerationism (part 1)
    Obsolete Capitalism - Dromology, Bolidism and Marxist Accelerationism (part 2)
    Obsolete Capitalism - Edmund Berger: Underground Streams (Part 1)
    Obsolete Capitalism - Edmund Berger: Underground Streams (Part 2)
    obsolete capitalism - Emilia Marra: COMMIT MOOSBRUGGER FOR TRIAL
    Obsolete Capitalism - McKenzie Wark - BLACK ACCELERATIONISM
    Occult Xenosystems
    QUENTIN MEILLASSOUX AND FLORIAN HECKER TALK HYPERCHAOS: SPECULATIVE SOLUTION
    Ray Brassier Interviewed by Richard Marshall: Nihil Unbound: Enlightenment and Extinction
    Rick McGrath - Reconstructing High-Rise
    Robert Craig Baum - Non-Normal Living at the Ross School
    Robert Craig Baum - Arrivals (Part 1)
    Robert Craig Baum ​- Delays (Part 2)
    Robert Craig Baum ​​- Delays (Part 3)
    Robert Craig Baum - Departures (Part 4)
    Robert Craig Baum ​​- The Last God (Part 5)
    Sean Kohingarara Sturm - NOO POLITICS
    Sean Kohingarara Sturm - NOO POLITICS 2
    Simon Reynolds - Energy Flash
    Stephen Zepke - “THIS WORLD OF WILD PRODUCTION AND EXPLOSIVE DESIRE” – THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE FUTURE IN FELIX GUATTARI
    Stephen Craig Hickman - A Rant...
    Steven Craig Hickman - Children of the Machine
    Steven Craig Hickman - Corporatism: The Soft Fascism of America
    Steven Craig Hickman - Is America Desiring Fascism?
    Steven Craig Hickman - Paul Virilio: The Rhythm of Time and Panic
    Steven Craig Hickman - Kurt Gödel, Number Theory, Nick Land and our Programmatic Future
    Steven Craig Hickman - Speculative Posthumanism: R. Scott Bakker, Mark Fisher and David Roden
    Steven Craig Hickman - Techno-Sorcery: Science, Capital, and Abstraction
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari: Abstract Machines & Chaos Theory
    Steven Craig Hickman - JFK: The National Security State and the Death of a President
    Steven Craig Hickman - Against Progressive Cultural Dictatorship
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Great Sea Change
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Daemonic Imaginal: Ecstasy and Horror of the Noumenon
    Steven Craig Hickman - William S. Burroughs: Drugs, Language, and Control
    Steven Craig Hickman - William Burroughs: Paranoia as Liberation Thanatology
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Mutant Prophet of Inhuman Accelerationism: Nick Land and his Legacy
    Steven Craig Hickman - Nick Land: On Time – Teleoplexy & Templexity
    Steven Craig Hickman - Philip K. Dick & Nick Land: Escape to the Future
    Steven Craig Hickman - Philip K. Dick: It’s Alive! – It came here from the future
    Steven Craig Hickman - Fantastic Worlds: From the Surreal to the Transreal
    Steven Craig Hickman - David Roden: Aliens Under The Skin
    Steven Craig Hickman - David Roden and the Posthuman Dilemma: Anti-Essentialism and the Question of Humanity
    Steven Craig Hickman - David Roden on Posthuman Life
    Steven Craig Hickman - David Roden’s: Speculative Posthumanism & the Future of Humanity (Part 2)
    Steven Craig Hickman - Ccru : The Hyperstitional Beast Emerges from its Cave
    Steven Craig Hickman - Sacred Violence: The Hyperstitional Order of Capitalism
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Apocalypse Happened Yesterday
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Intelligence of Capital: The Collapse of Politics in Contemporary Society
    Steven Craig Hickman - Nick Land: Time-Travel, Akashic Records, and Templexity
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Holographic Universe: Black Holes, Information, and the Mathematics
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Machinic Unconscious: Enslavement and Automation
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Carnival of Globalisation: Hyperstition, Surveillance, and the Empire of Reason
    Steven Craig Hickman - Gun Crazy Nation: Violence, Crime, and Sociopathy
    Steven Craig Hickman - Shaviro On The Neoliberal Strategy: Transgression and Accelerationist Aesthetics
    Steven Craig Hickman - La Sorcière: Jules Michelet and the Literature of Evil
    Steven Craig Hickman - American Atrocity: The Stylization of Violence
    Steven Craig Hickman - Lemurian Time Sorcery: Ccru and the Reality Studio
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Consumertariat: Infopocalypse and the Pathologies of Information
    Steven Craig Hickman - Hyperstition: The Apocalypse of Intelligence
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Neoliberal Vision: The Great Escape Artist
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Next Stage
    Steven Craig Hickman - Why Am I Writing Country Noir?
    Steven Craig Hickman - Bataille’s Gift: Wealth, Toxicity, and Apocalypse
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari: The Eternal Return of Accelerating Capital
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari On the Empire of Capital: The Dog that wants to Die
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari: The Eternal Return of Accelerating Capital
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari: The Subterranean Forces of Social Production
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Betrayal of Leaders: Reading the Interviews with Deleuze and Guattari
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: Sleeplessness and Chronotopia
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: The Carnival of Time
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: The Fragile World
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: The Calculus of Desire and Hope
    Steven Craig Hickman - Ballard’s World: Reactivation not Reaction
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Necrophilic Vision of J.G. Ballard
    Steven Craig Hickman - Crash Culture: Panic Shock, Semantic Apocalypse, and our Posthuman Future
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: The Journey to Nowhere
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: Chrontopia and Post-Consumerist Society
    Steven Craig Hickman - J.G. Ballard: Chronopolis – Time Cities and the Lost Future
    Steven Craig Hickman - Neurototalitarianism: Control in the Age of Stupidity
    Steven Craig Hickman - Thomas Ligotti: The Abyss of Radiance
    Steven Craig Hickman - Thomas Ligotti: The Red Tower
    Steven Craig Hickman - Thomas Ligotti: Dark Phenomenology and Abstract Horror
    Steven Craig Hickman - Thomas Ligotti: The Frolic and the Wyrd (Weird)
    Steven Craig Hickman - Thomas Ligotti, Miami: The Collapse of the Real
    Steven Craig Hickman - Thomas Ligotti: Vastarien’s Dream Quest
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Epoch of Care: Transindividuation and Technical Individuals
    Steven Craig Hickman - Rethinking Conceptual Universes
    Steven Craig Hickman - Bataille’s Revenge
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Excess of Matter: Bataille, Immanence, and Death
    Steven Craig Hickman - Hyperstition: Metafiction and the Landian Cosmos
    Steven Craig Hickman - Babalon Rising: Amy Ireland, Artificial Intelligence, and Occulture
    Steven Craig Hickman - R. Scott Bakker: Reviews of Yuval Noah Harari’s Homo Deus
    Steven Craig Hickman - R. Scott Bakker: Medial Neglect and Black Boxes
    Steven Craig Hickman - Let Death Come Quickly
    Steven Craig Hickman - Hyperstition Notes: On Amy Ireland
    Steven Craig Hickman - Amy Ireland: Gyres, Diagrams, and Anastrophic Modernism
    Steven Craig Hickman - Accelerationism: Time, Technicity, and Superintelligence
    Steven Craig Hickman - Death & Capitalism: The Sublime War Machine
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari: Accelerationism – Diagnosis and Cure?
    Steven Craig Hickman - BwO – Deleuze and Guattari: The Impossible Thing We Are Becoming
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari: Culture of Death / Culture of Capital
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze & Guattari & Braidotti: On Nomadic vs. Classical Image of Thought
    Steven Craig Hickman - Vita Activa: Deleuze against the Contemplative Life?
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze’s Anti-Platonism
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze: Transcendental Empiricist? – Fidelity and Betrayal
    Steven Craig Hickman - Poetic Thought for the Day : A Poetics of Sense & Concepts
    Steven Craig Hickman - Wild Empiricism: Deleuze and the Hermetic Turn
    Steven Craig Hickman - A Short History of the City and the Cathedral
    Steven Craig Hickman - Future Society: The Cathedral of Managed Society
    Steven Craig Hickman - Nick Land and Teleoplexy – The Schizoanalysis of Acceleration
    Steven Craig Hickman - Felix Guattari: The Schizo, the New Earth, and Subjectivation
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Gnostic Vision in the Sciences
    Steven Craig Hickman - François Laruelle: Future Struggle, Gnosis, and the last-Humaneity
    Steven Craig hickman - Smart Cities and Dark Neoliberalism
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Governance of the World
    Steven Craig Hickman - ON Dark Realism - Part One
    Steven Craig Hickman - ON Dark Realism: Part Two
    Steven Craig Hickman ​- ON Dark Realism: Part Three
    Steven Craig Hickman - In the time of capital
    Steven Craig Hickman - Niklas Luhmann: Mass-Media, Communications, and Paranoia
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze/Guattari: ‘Stop the World!’
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Schizorevolutionary Project : Escaping to the Future of New Earth
    Steven Craig Hickman - Deleuze/Guattari: The Four Schizoanalytical Thesis
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Dark Side of Time
    Steven Craig Hickman - Digital Dionysus: R. Scott Bakker
    Steven Craig Hickman - Hyperstition: Technorevisionism – Influencing, Modifying and Updating Reality
    Steven Craig Hickman - Paul Virilio: The Anti-City
    Steven Craig Hickman - Maurizio Lazzarato: Homage to Felix Guattari
    Steven Craig Hickman - Phantom Monsters: Nationalism, Paranoia, and Political Control
    Steven Craig Hickman - Memory, Technicity, and the Post-Human
    Steven Shaviro - Accelerationism Without Accelerationism
    Steven Craig Hickman - Posthuman Accelerationism
    Steven Craig Hickman - The Age of Speed: Accelerationism, Politics, and the Future Present
    Steven Craig Hickman - Weird Tales: Essays and Other Assays
    Thomas Nail on Deleuze and Badiou - Revolution and the Return of Metaphysics
    Terence Blake - LOVECRAFT NOETIC DREAMER: from horrorism to cosmicism (Part 1)
    Terence Blake - LOVECRAFT NOETIC DREAMER: from horrorism to cosmicism (Part 2)
    Terence Blake - SYSTEM AND CLARITY IN DELEUZE’S OPUS
    Terence Blake - UNCONSCIOUS JUNGIANS
    Terence Blake - BADIOU’S HORSESHOE: substance vs sparks
    Terence Blake - ZIZEK, DELEUZE, JUNG: the analogical self versus the digital ego
    Terence Blake - THERE IS MADNESS IN THIS METHOD
    Terence Blake - IS OLD AGE A CONCEPT?: Notes on Deleuze and Guattari’s “What is Philosophy?” (1)
    Terence Blake - CONCEPTS OUT OF THE SHADOWS: Notes on Deleuze and Guattari’s “What is Philosophy?” (2)
    Terence Blake - TRANSVALUE DELEUZE: an ongoing project
    Terence Blake - DELEUZE: philosopher of difference or philosopher of multiplicity
    Terence Blake - CONVERSATION WITH DELEUZE: pluralist epistemology and life
    Terence Blake - LARUELLE AND DELEUZE: from difference to multiplicity
    Terence Blake - LARUELLE’S “QUANTUM”: nostalgic obscurity and the manipulation of stereotypes
    Terence Blake - LARUELLE AND WAVE ABSOLUTISM: against quantum integrism
    Terence Blake - LARUELLE’S BLINDSPOTS: Deleuze on style, heuristics, and the topography of thought
    Terence Blake - LARUELLE’S DE-PHILOSOPHY: confirmation bias legitimated
    terence blake - DELEUZE’S REPLY (1973) TO LARUELLE’S CRITIQUE (1995)
    Terence Blake - FROM NON-STANDARD TO SUB-STANDARD: Laruelle’s syntax of scientism
    Terence Blake - STIEGLER, “IDEOLOGY”, AND POST-STRUCTURALISM
    Terence Blake - Deleuze, Klossowski, and Hillman on psychic multiplicity
    Terence Blake - DELEUZE, BADIOU, LARUELLE, CIORAN: a plea for polychromatic vision
    Terence Blake - Do we need to escape from metaphysics?
    Terence Blake - DELEUZE’S PLURALIST AUTO-CRITIQUE
    Terence Blake - DELEUZE’S AGON: schizophrenising Lacan
    Terence Blake - GUATTARI “LINES OF FLIGHT” (1): the hypothesis of modes of semiotisation
    Terence Blake - GUATTARI’S LINES OF FLIGHT (2): transversal vs transferential approaches to the reading contract
    Terence Blake - Felix Guattari and Bernard Stiegler: Towards a Post-Darwinian Synthesis
    Terence Blake - EXPLAINING A SENTENCE BY GUATTARI
    Terence Blake - CLEARING DELEUZE: Alexander Galloway and the New Clarity
    Terence Blake - DELEUZE: HOW CAN YOU STAND THOSE SCHIZOS?
    Terence Blake - No Cuts!: Deleuze and Hillman on Alterity
    Terence Blake - NOTES ON DELEUZE’S “LETTER TO A SEVERE CRITIC” (1): against Zizek
    Terence Blake - PRINCIPLES OF NON-PHILOSOPHY: creative tension or self-paralysing conflict
    Terence Blake - NOTES ON DELEUZE’S “LETTER TO A SEVERE CRITIC” (2): against Laruelle
    Terence Blake - NOTES ON DELEUZE’S “LETTER TO A SEVERE CRITIC” (3): against Badiou
    Terence Blake - DELEUZE WITHOUT LACAN: on being wary of the “middle” Deleuze
    Terence Blake - ON THE INCIPIT TO DELEUZE AND GUATTARI’S “WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY?”
    Tithi Bhattacharya / Gareth Dale - COVID CAPITALISM. GENERAL TENDENCIES, POSSIBLE “LEAPS”
    The German Ideology - Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels (excerpts)
    Reza Negarestani - Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin (Reading Applied Ballardianism)
    Reza Negarestani - What Is Philosophy? Part 1: Axioms and Programs
    Reza Negarestani - What Is Philosophy? Part 2: Programs and Realizabilities
    H. P. Lovecraft - The Call of Cthulhu: Chapter 1: The Horror in Clay
    H. P. Lovecraft- The Call of Cthulhu: Chapter 2: The Tale of Inspector Legrasse
    H. P. Lovecraft - The Call of Cthulhu: Chapter 3: The Madness from the Sea
    Henry Bergson - One of the most famous and influential French philosophers
    Henri Bergson - Philosophical Intuition (Part 1)
    Henri Bergson - Philosophical Intuition (Part 2)
    Himanshu Damle - The Eclectics on Hyperstition. Collation Archives.
    Himanshu Damle - Killing Fields
    Himanshu Damle - Topology of Dark Networks
    Himanshu Damle - Games and Virtual Environments: Playing in the Dark. Could These be Havens for Criminal Networks?
    Himanshu Damle - OnionBots: Subverting Privacy Infrastructure for Cyber Attacks
    Himanshu Damle - Deanonymyzing ToR
    Himanshu Damle - A Time Traveler in Gödel Spacetime
    Himanshu Damle - Evolutionary Game Theory
    Himanshu Damle - 10 or 11 Dimensions? Phenomenological Conundrum
    Himanshu Damle - Geometry and Localization: An Unholy Alliance?
    Himanshu Damle - Typicality. Cosmological Constant and Boltzmann Brains.
    Himanshu Damle - Production of the Schizoid, End of Capitalism and Laruelle’s Radical Immanence
    Himanshu Damle - Where Hegel Was, There Deconstruction Shall Be:
    Himanshu Damle - Something Out of Almost Nothing. Drunken Risibility.
    ​Himanshu Damle - Hegelian Marxism of Lukács: Philosophy as Systematization of Ideology and Politics as Manipulation of Ideology.
    Himanshu Damle - Orthodoxy of the Neoclassical Synthesis
    Himanshu Damle - Intuition
    Himanshu Damle - Transcendentally Realist Modality
    Himanshu Damle - Dark Matter as an Ode to Ma Kali.
    Himanshu Damle - Knowledge Within and Without: The Upanishadic Tradition (1)
    Himanshu Damle - |, ||, |||, ||||| . The Non-Metaphysics of Unprediction.
    Himanshu damle - Philosophy of Dimensions: M-Theory.
    Himanshu Damle - Quantum Informational Biochemistry
    Himanshu Damle - Accelerated Capital as an Anathema to the Principles of Communicative Action
    Hyperstitional Carriers
    Hyperstition - Sorcerers and Necromancers: sorcery and the line of escape part II
    Hyperstition - Sorcerers and Necromancers: lines of escape or wings of the ground? part IV
    Nick Land - Cathedralism
    Nick Land - An Interview: ‘THE ONLY THING I WOULD IMPOSE IS FRAGMENTATION’
    Nick Land - Teleoplexy (Notes on Acceleration)
    Nick Land - The unconscious is not an aspirational unity but an operative swarm
    Nick Land - The curse of the sun (Part 1)
    Nick Land - The curse of the sun (Part 2)
    Nick Land - The curse of the sun (Part 3)
    Nick Land - Transgression (Part 1)
    Nick Land - Spirit and Teeth
    Nick Land - Occultures (Part 1)
    Nick Land - Occultures (Part 2)
    Nick Land - A Dirty Joke
    N Y X U S - Traffic
    Paul Virilio - Interview : TERROR IS THE REALIZATION OF THE LAW OF MOVEMENT
    Paul Virilio - Interview: ADMINISTRATING FEAR: TOWARDS CIVIL DISSUASION
    Paul Virilio - Interview : Speed-Space
    Paul Virilio - a topographical Amnesia
    Paul Virilio - Public Image
    Paul Virilio - The vision Machine ( Part 1)
    Paul Virilio - The Vision Machine (Part 2)
    Paul Virilio - The Information Bomb: A Conversation
    Peter Zhang - The four ecologies, postevolution and singularity
    Peter Zhang and Eric Jenkins - Deleuze the Media Ecologist? Extensions of and Advances on McLuhan
    vastabrupt - Time War // Briefing for Neolemurian Agents
    XENOBUDDHISM - NONORIENTED ACCELERATIONISM
    Xenosystems - Meta-Neocameralism
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