That a certain improvisatory combination of photos found on the internet would lend itself to the generation of “hyper-collages” brimming with apocalyptic themes cannot come as a surprise.

Are these strange contraptions put on one’s head someone else’s eyes?

These miniature replicas of a culture’s highest death-checkpoints seemingly restore the beautiful insanity of a utopian/dystopian hour.

The old self will not survive the extreme temperatures of this remoteness

The operational logic of paganism is such that when a certain local god fails to deliver its graces, one can always switch to an alternative deity

These varied images (of flame, ignition, and fever) cannot help but capture the visual glory of environmental ruin

What does it mean to speak of beauty at the end of things? Is there not wonder at the sight of miraculous catastrophe?