…for the past 2 days I have been trying to catch the rogue mice, I caught one late at night returning drunk from a party, the mouse was on my table by my almond milk….I realized then that every surface in my home may have been scurried upon by the mice at one point or another leading to intense hygienic procedures in which I placed every food item in my fridge and diligently washed my hands


ROMANTIC INTERLUDE …product of mouse dream? or preceding it?

I had the stomach flu for two days and thought that the mice may have caused this, I was bed ridden the entire weekend but found a sort of romanticist sense of martyrdom in the idea of sweating to death, a shiny wet corpse blissfully delirious as my mice observed my slow death from whatever corner they were hiding in

I wouldn’t have to worry about my land-

lord because my corpse would be more problematic than my escaped mice

I picture mice making nest of my body…beautiful return

The Gumball

I guess I am a father, except—I think the baby may not be mine, because I’ve never had sex, and because the baby is not a human. Last night, Jessica and I were at the Hollywood Theater, the one just slightly underneath the ground of San Diego. We watched most of a romantic comedy titled I Chews You, which was about two animated—as in living as well as in moving computer graphics —pieces of bubble gum who fall in love with each other on a rainy night. It is, in fact, the rain which wakes up the bubble gum, the rain which transforms gum and gum from two flat, lifeless sticks abandoned at a bus stop to animate matter quivering in each others’ presence. It is the rain that gives individuated personhood to pieces of bubble gum—at least insofar as this film is concerned—and, remarkably, the very first gesture performed by these pieces of bubble gum as they come to life is to obliterate the very difference that separates the two into separate beings. As they get soggy and fall in love with each other, the pieces of gum approach each other for a kiss, which, given that they have no mouths or faces or anything of the sort, proceeds as a merging- together of their whole bodies, which at the end transforms them into a single wad of gum, unrecognizable as a multiplicity save for the fact that it is twice as large as a single-sticked wad. This was how the movie began. From then on out, I Chews You followed the life of the wet wad. In one scene, it runs into trouble with the sun, drying and cracking in its heat—in another scene, which might have been the lead-up to the climax, the wad runs into trouble from internal conflict, its integrity as a wad threatened by the occasional urge of its component parts to separate from one another, to re individuate into two separate wads of chewed-up bubble gum. I’m not sure how that conflict ended, because as it was playing out, Jessica let out a blood- curdling scream there in that movie theater. I didn’t know what to do as she sat next to me, violently gripping her armrests, raising her legs up on the seat in front of her, and throwing her head back in extreme pain. I think I’m having a fucking baby! , she screamed, which was highly startling in itself as well as because we had never had sex in the five years we had dated each other, and, additionally, because in those five years Jessica had never shown any visible signs that would suggest pregnancy. Bullets of sweat were dripping off of her body, so many that the floor of the movie theater was soon covered in an eighth of an inch of sweat. Here it comes! she yelled, and out of her vagina slowly emerged a gigantic pink gumball.


Interview With: Amanda Yates Garcia

Amanda Yates Garcia is an artist and practicing witch, the self-titled “Oracle of LA.” She will be speaking in a panel discussion hosted by the Hammer Student Association on Friday November 18th, considering the intersections of art and the oracular along with Eliza Swan and Edgar Fabian Frias. (Click here for more information on this event.)

On your website you mention that you teach a spirituality class called “Magical Praxis”. What is significant about the word “praxis” to you in relation to you art and your spirituality?

During Magical Praxis, my monthly mystery school, we debate, wrestle with, experiment and revise our magical workings in order to find ways to apply them to our individual lives and experiences.

At these monthly workshops, I emphasize the application of spiritual practices rather than purely theoretical concerns. Witchcraft is a practice of the body, of the material world. It is based more on action than contemplation.

When we practice magic, we feel how it moves through our bodies, we feel the effect it has on the world around us. We engage with that world. It’s easy to conceive of a spiritual life, the real challenge is in living it.

“Interview With: Amanda Yates Garcia”

Preliminary Theses On The “Interspecies Interface.”


img[1], Dog named Sky wearing the FIDO (“Facilitating Interactions for Dogs with Occupations”) bite sensor.

I would like to focus on the concept of the “interface,” and maybe derive some theory or other sort of reflection about it. Specifically, I’d like to think about the interspecies interface; this interface is the mediator that allows members of different species to communicate with one another. (Is it communication, really? No, or at least not necessarily. The action is more general than this. The interface allows members of different species to interface with one another, which may mean communication, but may mean something else as well.) In every example I have considered, the interface takes the form of a prosthesis, filling in the functional gaps that prevent interfacing in the first place.

“Preliminary Theses On The “Interspecies Interface.””