Size Matters

October 05, 2026 in Article, It's the Apocalypse Stupi

It’s the Apocalypse, Stupid

Size matters—the scale of the problem, the size of your audience, the level of coordination necessary to overcome an obstacle. Tackling the climate crisis has always been an immense and impossible task necessitating a global effort unlike anything preceding it, and with every year, the scale of the problem balloons and as the rational animals approach the heat of their burning future they increasingly lose faith in the institutions that have both created this crisis and failed to adequately address it for a half century. Civilization does not always end the moment the volcano erupts. Sometimes civilizations end because they know the eruption’s coming. Civilization is collapsing in its panic at its coming collapse.

In his speech at Davos, Canadian PM Mark Carney makes a simple claim, “La puissance des moins puissants commence par l’honnêteté.” The power of the less starts with honesty. He goes on to talk of Vaslav Hovel and his essay, The Power of the Powerlessness. “And in it, he asked a simple question. How did the communist system sustain itself? And his answer began with the greengrocer. Every morning, the shopkeeper places a sign in his window. Workers of the world unite. He doesn’t believe it. No one does. But he places the sign anyway to avoid trouble, to signal compliance, to get along. And because every shopkeeper on every street does the same, the system persists not through violence alone, but through the participation of ordinary people in rituals they privately know to be false. Havel called this living within a lie. The system’s power comes not from its truth, but from everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true. And its fragility comes from the same source. when the greengrocer removes his sign, the illusion begins to crack.” The illusion has begun to crack.

But what is this illusion? That there is a rule-based order? That the arc of progress has been stalled but it’ll right itself any moment now? That the world of the 20th Century still exists in the 21st? Or that the Enlightenment’s project is finished?

Boston Bands in the 90's: Chick Graning

September 30, 2026 in Series, Boston Bands in the 90s

Just a man and a guitar on a stage with a voice as raw as Curt Cobain and a body that shivers with electricity as he sings raw, naked songs. Chick Graning come out of Knoxville to Boston, where he formed first Anastasia Screamed and then Scarce, was on the cusp of fame when a brain hemorrhage knocked him off his feet. Here he is two years later finding his footing in Kendall Cafe. A near miss at greatness but always great. Watching this set years later is like watching the last act in a heartache of a life, a poignant moment of might-have-been captured letting out a last eruption of the sun within. If you want to know more about Chick Graning, go here or to hear his last lost record go here.

Billy Ruane was a staple of the scene at one point, and he documented endless shows throughout the 90’s and beyond. These videos came out of that.

Nebula

September 28, 2026 in Mutablesoundofthemonth, Feature, Podcast

Mutable Sound of the Month

Carl Weiting formerly of Neptune has recorded some 603 three-minute compositions since August ‘25 as part of his Uneasy Music Listening Diary, from which he’s culled two albums of material in the last two months, Tweakling and Flutterbye. For this month’s Mutable Sound of the Month we chose the first track from off Tweakling because it touched our souls with its luxurious and twinkling guitar but the curious listener should by no means stop there. Go. Explore both albums on Bandcamp. They’re full of three minute gems. If you like what you hear, a good next stop would be Anita from the Flutterbye, which Carl dedicated to his mother-in-law who recently passed and to her love of Fats Waller and all the silly/naughty songs she taught all her children and grandchildren. These are entries from the more wordless end of the dreaming spectrum, dreams that linger as not much more than a scent in the skull. Enjoy!

Mutable Sound is pleased to present a unique musical experience every month or so by ourselves or someone we’ve been introduced to. These are from the reel-to-reels and tascams of the garages and basements of the world. If you have a track you would like us to hear, please feel free to send it to mail@mutablesound.com along with credits and a brief description.

5 by Larry

September 16, 2026 in Series, Poetry

Larry Sawyer

“There are poets who write poetry as a side gig, for whom poetry is one among many other things that define their life. And then there are poets whose life is poetry, whose entire way of understanding the world and themselves is through poetry. Larry Sawyer was in this latter category. His life, for those of us who had the privilege of knowing him and of experiencing his presence and kindness, was structured around poetry and the worlds of poetry that he built for others to live in. For those of us who lived in Chicago in the early 2000s, we benefited firsthand from the institutions of poetry that Larry built for us, and which sustained so many of us over such a long period of time… Larry’s poems are light without being naïve; and at the same time, they are often existential and extremely consequential while being soft, musical, and supernatural … reading his poetry…has been a moving experience, a solemn experience, and, ultimately, a celebratory one. I am in awe of how much he wrote, of the different ways in which he wrote, and again, of the subtle ways that he lived in art, music, and language…” —Daniel Borzutzky, 2016 National Book Award winner for The Performance of Becoming Human

The Huh

Craters of your past,
voices from the usual walls,
winter emits shrill lies across
the room, 3:00 AM margins of night.
I still love the sound of my own razorblade
voice, I shake the morning of its dust,
come up for air, the same miracle rerun.

Rear View Mirror

The splendid dead
suited, the splendid dead
relax in coffins they lounge
after long life crisp shirts
unbearably white carnation
inserted like a nail into lapel
reclining at the speed of sound
upward toward leisure
cool to the point of severity
these splendid dead
not a hair out of place
so suave as to appear
so suave as to appear
not a hair out of place
these splendid dead
cool to the point of severity
upward toward leisure
reclining at the speed of sound
inserted like a nail into lapel
unbearably white carnation
after long life crisp shirts
relax in coffins they lounge
suited, the splendid dead
the splendid dead

This is Not a Review: of Animal Money

August 14, 2026 in Article, This is not a Review, Feature

Gabriel Boyer

In Thomas Ligotti’s The Conspiracy Against the Human Race puppets, and more specifically meat-puppets, are a common occurrence. In it, he declares consciousness a cruel mistake of nature—the work’s fundamental premise—and furthermore, that if we were to pause for a moment and reflect on ourselves, we would find that we are neither gods nor apes but… puppets. With this treatise, Ligotti, more known for his horror fiction than as a philosopher, has created a powerful polemic against existence. Throughout his arguments marches the single refrain that we’d do well to end not just ourselves but the entire human race, that continuing to exist as a species is a cruel joke foisted on our descendants. He calls his position, the philosophy of pessimism.

Ligotti’s extremism is uniquely his. The authors he references are almost all obscure (except perhaps the famously pessimistic Schopenhauer) but Ligotti is not only the world’s pre-eminent pessimist, he is also the man who “modernized the weird tale” as Jeff Vandermeer succinctly declared [1] and thereby more than any other writer created the possibility of what would become the New Weird.

New Weird presented itself not as a “movement” but a “moment” that captured a certain stylistic tendency that exists between, is a genre beyond genre. It declared itself specifically as a trend without manifestoes, and Ligotti’s extreme pessimism would not sit well with many (if not most) who fill the ranks of this aforementioned literary moment but all the same I would argue that Ligotti’s treatise lurks in the background of its sitting rooms. Not because his ideas are shared but because their audaciousness comes from a similar openness to the impossible and uncomfortable that defines New Weird writings. These are writings that exist not just beyond genre but beyond the boundaries of the knowable, some more than others. There are those in the lower atmospheres of the New Weird that utilize their weirdness as a seductive and hypnotic style and there are those who search to bake the weirdness deep within themselves until we cannot say whether these are truly books in the sense that we’ve known them.

On the former end of that spectrum come the most notable and recognizable New Weird titles—China Miéville’s Perdido Street Station that was the catalyst that bought New Weird into the public and Jeff Vandermeer’s Southern Reach trilogy (now qaudrilogy) was like New Werid’s atom bomb, ensuring its place in history—while the latter achieved its most distinctive heights through the work of Michael Cisco. Cisco is an author whose work legitimately shocked me.

Not his earliest writings. The Divinity Student, with its dream logic and allegorical horror, vivid descriptions and gothic shamanism, was quite nearly a known entity. The Narrator is unsettling simply because the fairy tale physics background juxtaposed against what is otherwise a very gritty war narrative created an experience that was like Kafka churned through Norman Mailer. Then there’s Animal Money.

Manifesto of Millennial Architecture

July 13, 2026 in Manifesto of the Month, Feature

Jeremy Murdoch Bailey

In an age where the only form of meaningful resistance is to act responsibly, Millennials have no choice but to accept the task of reconciliation. Reconciliation with our true selves, our environment, and our human community. Shifting from the individual to the universal unrestricted by physical distance and access to knowledge.[4]

Without beginning or end, time is not linear, what we do now will alter the shape of the past and the future. The lessons of yesterday and the great problems of tomorrow will not wait for us, our work is today.[3, 6]

We were wrong to praise the man behind the steering wheel, speeding off in a tangential orbit. Disoriented and stumbling we harnessed the great power of iron and cement, urbanizing at great speed, shifting the human condition to the urban condition.[6] But why for so many people has urbanisation not solved the problems of transport, density and sustainability?

Mirror Side

June 10, 2026 in Article, Isstillcools**t, Feature

In the Mutableye

The notorious Neptune are on the road once again promoting their new album, Play Some Music. What began as a sculpture project for Jason Sanford in the 90s evolved into Boston’s perhaps most iconic art-rock group, Neptune. Guitars hacked together from soldered refrigerator doors, a feedback organ, electronic oscillators—a melding of hardware store and landfill as they put it—Neptune has continued to shock and awe with their signature discordant sound, and this summer they’ll be touring the US, beginning June 10th at The Dunken Unicorn in Atlanta, GA, and ending in Minneapolis, MN, on the 28th. Full tour dates and locations can be found here. Mirror Side below is from Play Some Music.

In the Mutableye is a segment that sometimes showcases something interesting that is happening somewhere in the world at this moment, and sometimes showcases some fad or person from the past that we here at Mutable acknowledge is still cool s**t.

Foost

May 21, 2026 in Excerpt, Story, Series

Walker Zupp

Lavinia’s cold when she wakes up. Head reeling like a German trade union dispute. And given the General German Trade-Union Federation, the German Trade-Union Federation and the Hirsch-Duncker Federation of German Labour Associations—those three mutually hostile Spitzenverbände—are about as friendly as a kick in the teeth, she must have the mother-of-all-headaches: which sounds like an opera. But she’s not singing this morning: not with that throat of hers. A bout of morning sickness pushes her over clutching her stomach. And when she observes the room the results are terrible. Dishes piled high, the acrid stench of rot and bioengineered hand towels, broken glass under the only window, and freezing air filling the putrid apartment—beyond which a dank alleyway echoes with prostitutes and urchins. Before she can wince at the brown stains on the mattress supporting her tired body the door bangs open. In walks a Marlene Dietrich rip-off complete with penciled eyebrows, a John-Waters-esque moustache, a top hat cocked at an angle. Must’ve been a decent wife-cum-agent before the Great War. Before the Weimar Republic. Before inflation and prostitution went hand in hand. “Decided to wake up, huh?”
“Where’s Foost?” Lavinia asks.
“Only God knows. But I’m Agnes. And this is my daughter Barbara.” Pointing to the corner: looking like a rejected set from the film The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari. Amongst an architectural zone where lines and shapes go nowhere and everywhere, a shivering girl’s sitting there with dyed ginger hair wearing a German alpine hat with frayed string and block stockings made traitorously by a Swiss cheese factory.

The Uses of Prejudice

May 10, 2026 in Article, It's the Apocalypse Stupi

It’s the Apocalypse, Stupid

[Below is the first in a series of articles exploring the space where climate crisis, apocalyptic thinking, and politics intersect. A disclaimer: the below article primarily explores racial prejudice. Later articles will continue to extrapolate upon the uses of prejudice in other contexts but due to spatial constraints, this article had to limit its scope.]

The opening track on Prince Paul’s 1997 hip hop masterpiece, Psychoanalysis: What Is It, repeats this refrain: “As long as I can remember / people have hated me,” and it’s this line which I am thinking of now. Perhaps because the history of prejudice winds so far into the distant recesses of civilization, with some truly astonishing actors conveying some jawdroppingly embarrassing misconceptions—and it’s through the lens of this hatred that the current potential ending of the American experiment is best understood.

Aristotle described certain persons as “slaves by nature” and the Spanish Inquisition codified limpieza de sangre or “purity of blood” statutes, marking one of the earliest bureaucratic racial ideologies, although India’s caste system is perhaps the most ancient. What makes and has always made American racism so striking is it so flagrantly contradicts its own mythology—because the uses of prejudice will always trump the illogic of it. At the time of America’s founding it was deemed a necessary evil by the North (or so the rationale goes) to keep the South on side, and in the South, it was deemed a necessary evil (or inherent good depending on who you talked to) necessary to uphold their agrarian economy and it has continued to serve its uses—in service of Nathan Bedford Forrest and his Ku Klux Klan and—in a different form and directed at a different people—in Hitler’s Germany—or apartheid South Africa—or the Belgian colonial policy that led to hardening the Hutu and Tutsi social categories, a policy that ultimately led to the Rwandan genocide. Prejudice has always been a tool and although its specific purpose may vary, it has a small set of very consistent methodologies, functions, and goals. How is it being used today?

A Passage to India is a remarkable document of a late stage colonial India and the mindset of its British ruling class. One of the book’s key villains is Ronny, a British functionary with a blatant and unconcealed distaste for his Indian subordinates, petitioners, and acquaintances, his tone reminded me very much of the constant indignation on display in people like Stephen Miller and others in high level positions in the current administration, but the space those voices occupy is very different. Ronny is an example of a low level bureaucrat in a colonial power at the tail end of its power—he exists in a world functioning within the paradigm of progress and we are meant to read him as one small villain in a world that increasingly knows better. Stephen Miller on the other hand is consciously working to reinvent that same colonial atmosphere both at home and abroad in a world where the narrative of progress has been replaced by doom scrolling and ideologies of fear, and for good reason. The weather alone is enough to give you nightmares, not to mention AI and the very real possibility of WWIII. The mindset of the colonialist is returning because the world has gone zipping off the cliff and everybody’s at a loss about what to do, so they revert to the most ancient ideology there is—the ideology of the blood, of the tribe.

“Unpluggers who seek new forms of dwelling”: Ivan Illich on dwelling and the vernacular

April 26, 2026 in Article, Feature

D. Alan Dean

“To dwell is an art […] The human is the only animal who is an artist, and the art of dwelling is part of the art of living.” So says Ivan Illich in an essay called “Dwelling” that appears in In the Mirror of the Past. The modern world has rendered this art increasingly difficult. Many of us are liable to experience housing, he says, more than dwelling. Housing embeds us in a discourse of management, biology, or political economy. Housing provides a place to live in a biological sense, or in a bureaucratic one, but not a place to dwell.

Trim

March 17, 2026 in Story, Series

Ben Segal

I walk around cutting off people’s heads. They grow back quickly as flowers.

Jake saws similarly, but leopards bloom in the place of the heads he severs. These are not, to be clear, leopard heads. They are full leopard torsos, with front legs and claws and heads and everything, and they are the size of ordinary leopards.

The people Jake cuts have difficulty balancing after. They are awkward creatures, stumbling, unwieldy.

A Song That Ends

February 13, 2026 in Mutablesoundofthemonth, Feature, Podcast

Mutable Sound of the Month

We here at Mutable have been recording various musical projects in the privacy of our piano schools in the suburbs of Hanoi and while losing our minds in Kathmandu. These albums remain hidden in our most secret places but we thought we’d share A Song That Ends, recorded and our favorite on both. It hearkens back to the classic country of Patsy Cline and George Jones and its simpler poetics. It is nothing but a song that ends.

Gabriel Boyer · A Song That Ends

Mutable Sound is pleased to present a unique musical experience every month or so by ourselves or someone we’ve been introduced to. These are from the reel-to-reels and tascams of the garages and basements of the world. If you have a track you would like us to hear, please feel free to send it on to mail@mutablesound.com along with credits and a brief description.

Boston Bands in the 90's: Victory at Sea, Shiva Speedway, Lisa King

January 13, 2026 in Series, Boston Bands in the 90s

You will feel all the feelings here—the slow, the sad, the sultry, the rage, the disgust. From—Victory at Sea were a legend of Boston dark indie rock and slowcore, with their heavy, brooding passages, Mona Elliott’s aching, "euphoric" vocals, dynamic range, and overall mood, i.e. somber & spooky—to—Shiva Speedway, and its angular, guitar-heavy sound of '90s feminist punk and indie rock, blending riot grrrl energy with a Sleater-Kinney-like tight, dynamic, guitar-driven sound featuring inventive riffs, stop-start rhythms, and sometimes slow-burn tracks with varied vocals, offering a raw, catchy, and attitude-filled rock experience—to—Lisa King, the slam poet, very Gil Scott-Heron.

Billy Ruane was a staple of the scene at one point, and he documented endless shows throughout the 90’s and beyond. These videos came out of that.

The Indifference Engine

December 28, 2025 in Article, Isstillcools**t, Feature

In the Mutableye

[For this In the Mutable Eye, we are posting a selection from The Indifference Engine, Clarke Cooper’s unpublished masterpiece on neo-totalitarianism. The full manuscript can be found on Substack here.]

Part I, Chapter 4: Efficient Systems

The classic totalitarianisms were evil and violent from beginning to end, but Hayek showed that a nascent totalitarianism need not begin that way and I have showed that it need not run that way. Totalitarianism is not what people think. The hallmarks of totalitarianism are not the brutality or the extravagant autocracy—those were only ancillary characteristics of a particular type of totalitarianism; side effects. The real essence of totalitarianism is the primacy of a System.

Not every system can do it, of course. Arendt noted that for a classic totalitarianism to really get going and achieve a decent approximation of totality it has to be based in a country that's big enough and powerful enough to have at least a rhetorical chance of actually taking over the world. Germany had the industrial power and just barely enough bigness; the Soviet Union had all the bigness and just barely enough power. Similarly, for a System to be effectively totalitogenic it must meet three interdependent criteria. It has to be big enough and general enough to plausibly encompass most activity. It probably has to be or promote a spontaneous order—it needs laws of its own innate physics that can determine (or equivalently, explain) the "natural" behavior of every element; this is how it can live. And it should exhibit positive feedback: any compliance should generally encourage more compliance; this is how it can grow, which it must if it's going to become properly infinite.

From Robert Filliou to Mario Merz: The Contemporary Relevance of the Barabar "Caves" (India) in Light of Contemporary Art

December 05, 2025 in Article, Feature

Dominique de Varine

[The below text has been translated from the French. The original French text is at the bottom if you are so interested.]

It took the developments in painting during the 19th and early 20th centuries, from William Turner to Henri Matisse and Georges Braque, for our gaze to be freed and for us to allow ourselves to examine parietal art with an unprejudiced spirit. Similarly, certain developments in art from the twentieth century onward, particularly from its second half, are needed to approach the "caves" of Barabar in their singularity, overflowing any referential framework.

The Void and the Full, the Nothing and the Everything, the Hare and the Rifle

No figuration of any kind, no statuary or engraving adorns the interior volumes with their clockwork precision. Nothing but emptiness. And formal resonance.

Membrane, cocoon, receptor, chrysalis of granite polished to the micron on whose surface your body is reflected, but equally folds and gullies. The Barabar caves defy all interpretation, which remain contradictory beyond their possible assimilation to Ajivika culture (Maurya Empire, around the 5th century BCE). Therefore, this text will offer no explanation of what these caves are, their possible past role, or the reason for their creation. The technical aspects remain a mystery. But an attempt to read their formal deployment.

The Gnostic Manifesto

November 16, 2025 in Manifesto of the Month, Feature

Manifesto of the Month

You think you know where you’re going but you’re not going anywhere.

The world as presented is not the world.

You’re in a small village in the mountains of Nepal and barely a week ago Kathmandu erupted in violence. You see no violence. You hear no violence. One morning, you walk through the town, and you notice the large white house now has burnt and blown-out windows. A week later, you go into Kathmandu and are confronted by the long arched windows of Singha Durbar (or Lion Palace) framing bonfires that swell out from their neoclassical cage to turn the night red but in the morning all that’s left will be the scorched insomniac aftermath. You are removed from the act and the seeing of the act is filtered—through news that is 6:1 paid PR people to independent journalists—through social media that feeds you a personalized stream of information, misinformation, skewed information—through the chatrooms of your friends and the twitter feeds of your favorite celebrities. What you see is not the thing as it is.

As your day evolves into a haiku of habits. As you wait for the moment when everything turns clear as crystal and a way out of your own decaying self. Who do you think you are? Who are you in truth?

Chapter 15: Every Day a Different Toxin

June 08, 2025 in Podcast, Series, Weltschmerz

Welcome to Weltschmerz

In this final installment of Welcome to Weltschmerz, USA, Boyer finds himself at Burning Man on psychedelic mushrooms, through nervous breakdowns and binges and general drug-fueled confession upon the sands of Black Rock, NV. His summer taking theater to bedrooms across America has ended and all he’s got to show for it is a nagging twitch of the eye

You can find Chapters 1 - 14 here.

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Interview with Dominique de Varine

March 10, 2025 in Article, Interview, Feature, Press

[This week we thought we’d share an interview with artist, Dominique de Varine, who calls Brittany home, but who we met in the Tibetan colonies of Northern India.]

Mutable: I think a good place to start our conversation is Dharma and Karma, as this was where our conversation began. What is the relationship between Dharma and Karma in your work? Has it always been this way or has their relationship evolved over time? And also, was there a time when these concepts were not important to your work and some moment when they became more so?

Dominique de Varine: Karma, Dharma, I don’t really know what it is. My ideas are fleeting, they fade with time. When I began my work on the Galipettes series, the question that series seemed to me to be answering was this issue of emptiness. Over time, the echo of fullness invited itself to the point of playing equal with emptiness, and as a dialectic. A reading is complementary to it, to be grasped from the side of reality since it is from this material that my research is ultimately made, and simultaneously to be grasped from the side of the order of the narrative, since reality only exists in relation to the form that we lend it. This narratological order can be pointed out from the opposition between engagement (narrative) and disengagement (narrative). The void, disengagement in the here and now. The fullness, engagement with all the shaping of the world. From there, Dharma and Karma.

Home Again Home Again, Jiggity-jig

March 06, 2025 in Article, Letter from the Editor

Letter from the Editor

The American experiment appears to be ending in a not-so-stealthy authoritarian power grab. In fact, the current administration would like you to believe the struggle’s already over and the foxes have already secured the henhouse—as they ramp up libel laws and rule by executive fiat and deport legal asylum seekers to 21st century concentration camps in El Salvador—but these are not the most omnipotent of men, and our newscasters and historians are ringing the bell from their sound stages and social media accounts. The nation you grew up in is no more! The darkness has come and you need to wake up now if you ever want to wake up again. Look into the eyes of your children and align yourself with the light before the midnight of our homeland becomes so complete that you forget where your mouth is and your body becomes strange to you. Now is the time to panic!

But even as we watch the disenfranchised and lost being treated as dogs and less than dogs, as we witness media outlets and our most hallowed institutions of learning being coerced to bend the knee or suffer the consequences, even as the alleged leader of the free world spits bile in the face of the camera like a regular schoolyard punk, as students are disappeared and the threats have only just started threading their way into our mailboxes and through the tinkling glass of our shattered windows—still—as you turn walking wound and angels castrated of their wings—even then—there is nothing there. And there’s not even that.

Because this is how it’s always been. As you marched through the corridor of your life—its graduation ceremonies and heartbreak—from the infinite promise of adolescence and on into any given number of cardboard cut-out futures and their many alternate endings and bonus tracks—bankruptcies and biopsies—the webbing of your daydreams strung with meetings and the occasional colostomy bag—where are you in this equation? At what point are you? Because you are not the person in this corridor—this corridor that never was.

Video: Triumph

January 09, 2025 in sad, Series

Song-A-Day

“One day we’ll sit back and look at all what we did.” We end our collection of Manson & Madri Song-A-Day songs with a truly great song about looking back, taking stock, and what is left. Triumph is perhaps my favorite of the lot, with its shimmering synths and John’s affecting lyrics performed in his usual understated style. “Leave your conscience at the door and live triumphantly.” Enjoy!

Triumph is just one of a series of rock videos we have been posting from their collaboration, all of which can be found under the Song-A-Day link along the sidebar and you can find a selection of these songs on their album Secret Griefs here.

John Manson and Dan Madri of The Gondoliers, became involved some years ago in a project called Fun-A-Day. (Or FAD.) And now John and Dan are continuing this tradition under the title Song-A-Day or SAD, and over the course of the coming months, we here at Mutable will be posting them regularly for your viewing and listening pleasure. Enjoy!

It’s the Apocalypse, Stupid

Billy Ruane was a staple of the scene at one point, and he documented endless shows throughout the 90’s and beyond. These videos came out of that.

Larry Sawyer

In the Mutableye is a segment that sometimes showcases something interesting that is happening somewhere in the world at this moment, and sometimes showcases some fad or person from the past that we here at Mutable acknowledge is still cool s**t.

Walker Zupp

It’s the Apocalypse, Stupid

Ben Segal

Billy Ruane was a staple of the scene at one point, and he documented endless shows throughout the 90’s and beyond. These videos came out of that.

Part I, Chapter 4: Efficient Systems

Dominique de Varine

The Void and the Full, the Nothing and the Everything, the Hare and the Rifle

Paperback Book8" x 5.25"560 Pages$16.00Now Available

Product

Gabriel Boyer and the Eugene City Players

Paperback Book
8" x 5.25"
560 Pages
$16.00
Now Available