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The Solar Agent

by qctqpus

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1.
Every scrap of paper filled with the alarm Of a false and incoherent geography I was after portraits of a fake Milan Forged by effete thieves Whose hideout hides it well The thing-in-itself: an empty shell, A carapace it sloughs Sticking like a strictly-limber string The noumenal (moon) cuts a “c” into its skull It holds the site eclipsed I wanted to only behold The city spread out like a palimpsest We called it “crescent sequence” When the lights aligned, the open door appeared into the Vault of Cataleptic Lapse The crystal bridge collapsed into The Sphere of Aimless Architecture An angled branch on a tomb Secretly draws the room
2.
This was the rub: As I stepped outside of the silence, A diagram so deftly drawn with lifeless, glowing symbols These things were clear: There was a sun There was a sun, a metal tune There was…something A solar object? And underneath a crypt marked “actual sphere” And I stood rapt before it Closed off in the likeness of a braille and brittle likeness of a labile light.
3.
I was foolish to believe I think, I think, sometimes I don’t repeat I was foolish, I know that much I was, I believe I was the edge of a word The spime I was the tradition The word from beginning to end Oh. What symbols have captured this night tonight? Scurrilous, an opposition to the word The word, the arc The world arcology The word imposed itself on us The words, the patterns of abbreviations A network of thinly-veiled conclusions Words that suffice for endpoints Gloria is a word Word is a word The network is a word cleverly disguised The trick is the network The network is a line that connects itself to itself The connection is a line The line is a word The connection connects itself with a furrowed brow The brow breaks The word breaks A crack appears in the break The break believes in myth The myth explains the words
4.
The murazzi have paled The terrain maps the last station I sat alone waiting for the self-erasing man Surrounded by essays on nature Reeking of an antiquated notion of mind “The mechanical are mere mirrors of an old and ancient taste for blood” But the man never arrived And I was left alone To decipher the mercurial and pale elastic code This symbolic mess A bleak and brittle liquid silt A night which hides the sediment A map whose paths are malleable and point out the horizon The lines that intersect to form the sun And wouldn’t it be nice if we were marred by the sight As the sun dissolves into a withered black disc? A series of edits erases the extras from the scene The lens is distorted The film stock is for shit I peeked at the regress It was finite, so what are you still doing here? It’s only tones that wreck your cacophony, darling The noumenal moon patiently mentions “Right on the side of a chora marked ‘destination’, We need a few good men to generate steam out of light” But the group would not allow it And in twenty-seven years, the district’s overrun with panic From the proof of the song The cityscape’s a pale limp palimpsest A “c” A deleted wreck And what rough beast speaks so suddenly of streaks of seemly light? A silent caesura poised to fissure, fractures will rewrite
5.
The arcade walk in its slanted gain I am nonplussed by the praise Of foreign dignitaries trapped beneath the weight Of trophic levels in the state Only, only, only Oh how the hive mines the site The octopus in your silken glance I am not used to the gaze Of forty pieces of oblique, eidetic shit that peek out from beneath the waves Only, only, only To reverse the mythic status of the Earth To amortize the World-Age Colony To alight the touch of analeptic beasts
6.
I was an arc in the air that Poincaré could describe I’ve let my device foreign Duplicating idle patterns I was thought to have found a metal tune Solar snares embrace the quietly Goldbug variations want to hold the hive For tonight we dine on fickle things Of glowing screens and quarantines I will find a nascent structure to the star And ignite the strange solarium With quantum strings of carrion So I bought the eye of my own atmosphere And buried deep beneath its streets were analogues of Guinevere Whose alleyways were suddenly complete I went to pry the floorboards up And underneath it drove a stream that contemplated idle dread So I jumped in
7.
Oh, your drink was poisoned And oh, your dream was buried in the Tomb of Left Sailors and Lipograms I retraced my steps The Solar Agent quarantined the third floor room Away from the all-too-clever consonance And several times, I wondered what the cogent states eclipsed The wire-frame mechanics mixing militant and occupied The Greek-slate polis, blue-stained guise away And I’m away Away on photosynthetic machines An arclength of light licks the air with a buzz Like the theodicy of an Ethical Dust And forest fights a false or pseudo penumbra A farce that flies ahead into the crisis Release spores that on sunset rose And the saboteur’s skin scrawled in pellucid tomes Containing the words of the Fiction Caste Cycle back through the atmosphere last Let’s pretend we’re in an article Let’s pretend I’m not fucked
8.
Say there won’t be an unencumbered century And the last time And the last time’s last time Won’t there be a last time? And the totals And the totalizing soldiers And the solarizing It’s over It’s over time It’s solar time

about

I recorded this album in 2007-8, while I was living in Philly and going to grad school. The idea was to try and combine pop songs and minimalist composition. I was also listening to a ton of Destroyer at the time, and I loved how he made reference to other songs and bands in his music. Real postmodern shit! So I did a lot of that too.

The album is a concept album about an archaeologist working in Europe, who believes he uncovers an ancient plot by the sun to destroy the Earth, so he steals his way onto a rocketship in an attempt to attack the sun. The sun fights back by sending an emissary to stop the archaeologist.

credits

released June 17, 2017

Drums on "Catastrophe Classes" and "Unite the Clades": Mark Bisi
Chorus on "Revisable Cities": Luke Ferdinand, Dawn Bisi, Mark Bisi, Qrescent Mason, Nik Fogle, Aaron Burdette, Will Cooper, Cory Palmer, others!
Art by John W. Fail

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qctqpus Los Angeles, California

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