A lone woman walks in a confusing dark pathway, pillars and graffiti and broken glass and buildings loom everywhere around her, the light to her back is nearly blinding. Overhead the title text is framed with a doodle.
A variety of decaying urban spaces decorated with moldering paint and fresh graffiti jostle for space in a dour, blocky composition.
It is the Strange Times, and every single person on the planet, even the boring ones, is unspeakably, unknowably WEIRD. You can read more about
A couple sits on a sand dune underneath the stars and ghosts of keys and wires. A hint of the strife can be found in
“Possible is huddling in a dark cave, picking fleas out of each others fur and wishing for bison. Literally everything else humans have accomplished used
