Edd Carr
Video/Photo

IN THE SIXTH MASS EXTINCTION

OH the madness OH the hate OH the destruction OH the horror OH the end OH the smoke the broken back joke of our stupid hand wringing loveless empty-pocketed Earth - filthy with the smut and soot of all our universe failures; the many minute ones that happen here to hit and boom and revereberate to the galaxies beyond so that other people on other planets want nothing not nil to do with us and nothing to do with me, just a bumbling flat-tyred fool pushing the metal along.

This is video/photo in the Sixth Mass Extinction.
VIDEO
    1. A GUIDE TO BRITISH TREES
    2. ∆ O
    3. HERE COMES THE WILDFIRE!
PHOTO
    1. ASK THE MOORS
    2. HERE COMES THE WILDFIRE!
    3. ELEMENTS

A GUIDE TO BRITISH TREES VIDEO 01

For like empty seed we are a husk, hollow on the dusty floor we are kicked into the cosmic nowhere, to disappear beyond galaxy and blooming death of star, to no new life just black, emptiness, like lightning without sound or sight, just a crack and whip of pain, pure and simple pain that lingers, gashing to a torturous cry, a lust that has lilted since Adam and EVE first picked that evil apple and let flow the worst across the ground. So free us trees, let us sink amongst the density of wood and drink at the sap like mother’s milk.
∆O VIDEO 02

Scattered marbles smashed across the floor of paradise found, each shard worked into a brutal FRENZY that basks in the sun and whoops at the moon, teeth gnashing to the beat of a tortured drum, the wheels turn towards glimmering loss but still they sing, blinded by indifference, bloodied without regret, the glass leaves a mirror for none to gaze up-on, only un-der and won(der) -
HERE COMES THE WILDFIRE! VIDEO 03

Here comes the wildfire!

Here comes the hot
Here comes the hearth
The death
The rot
Here comes the blackened wood and bone
Here comes the scream
Here comes the moan

ASK THE MOORS PHOTO 01

Although I often feel that he died in vain - not for any cause or purpose - but vain at the futility of modern life, so stripped of meaning and grubby essence, I cannot allow this feeling to take over, when the promise of change is on our Yorkshire horizon. Yet without him here by my side, watching the creep of shadows across mud, I feel the fragile beauty of this world and my abject loneliness within it. A hot pain pierces my heart, shared with all others who feel the same. The pain that reminds us of how this beauty lasts for only a moment, before digging six feet deep beneath the dirt. So I let all that pain build, and split hard stone into a harsh furrow across my brow - saying quiet to this world, I love you.


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