It is the cry of agony in Newton’s equations,

It is the ecstasy in a pattern of bone fractures,

It is government by memes 

Religion with strippers

And the reality of a dream

Where you instantly recognize a stranger in the street

Who you’ve never met in your life. 


It is high culture in the language of the gutter,

Porn in academic journals, and beauty in car parks

It’s utopia on the internet 

And the thread of light in the dark

That powers underground servers in California

That contain trolls and unicorns

And the ghosts of other people’s love afairs.


It's a life hack to make you more afraid.

It is distorted psalms screamed in an underground station,

It’s a remix of your every utterance

Your dreams marching in perfect formation,

And the sound of lovers last cries to each other

As they hear the roar of the Elder Gods

Coming to devour the universe.


It’s under the surface, it’s hidden and mysterious and

it’s there on the faces of everyone, everywhere


Generative Pslams

Oh That Men Would Praise The Name of The Sea

     Oh that men would praise the name of the sea

    Fearfulness and trembling are come into deep waters,

          Where the mighty floods do clap their hands

      Let the heart of the ENEMY rejoice in the lands.

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Me: Good ride Bro  Horse: *Epic side-eye*

Me: Good ride Bro

Horse: *Epic side-eye*


British Columbia was beautiful but my trip was slightly disturbed by (in order of calamity):

  • Wildfire
  • Electrical storms
  • Smoke triggering breathing condition
  • Pack trip canceled
  • Lame horse
  • Five hour drive from airfield 
  • Excess baggage
  • Epic mosquito attack on my back
  • Guide got lost 
  • Saddle slid off
  • Sunstroke
  • Weird unidentified shoulder injury 
  • Lost GoPro when hit by branch whilst cantering (actually GoPro clone from Kronig)
  • Fell asleep and missed fireworks 
  • Elusive whales
  • Accidently hit myself in the face with poor horseshoe throwing technique 
  • Dog jumping on balls

I arrived at Heathrow with sunburn, a limp and a baffled expression. I have just about recovered.


Beneath the ocean the Kraken dreams. Inside its brain synapses fire with electrical flashes that are large enough to power entire cities, set fire to forests or send out electromagnetic pulses that could shut down the internet. It sings softly in its sleep, the sweet sounds echo about the ocean floor and cause imperceptible ripples on the ocean's surface. 

It is terrible, and it is beautiful and the thing that it dreams is us and the rest of the waking world. We do not know that we are in the dream, our tentacled creator god is a stranger to us but we are part of him and for that we must be thankful.