The surrealist journal Peculiar Mormyrid has just published their ninth issue, Deep Times, a beautiful collection of poetry, stories, and artwork. I'm happy to say that one of my stories was included. The issue's introduction: “In everything one treads on, there is something that comes from so much farther back than mankind and which is also going so much farther.”—André Breton, Arcanum 17 “It is new, indeed, for I made it last night in a dream of strange cities, and dreams are older than brooding Tyre, or the contemplative Sphinx, or garden-girdled Babylon.”— The Call of Cthulhu Against the heteropatriarchal nuclear family of the petrostate, where the most shattering and resplendent of scientific revelations is infantilized and repressively-desublimated into extraction-industrial spectacles of unearthing and devouring, we surrealists remain committed to the Eros of the antediluvian world. With the aid of invisible rays we find primal scenes hidden in the vanes of a petrified feather. We will enter our submersibles and sift the bones of our dream creatures from the silt of Challenger Deep, discover our Lascaux and Chauvet Caves within the concentric rings of the human peritoneum, and make airplanes and plague-deserted shopping malls rust in the indecent foliage of prehistory. Today is the day you discover a lost continent in the subway tunnels of your city, where stalagmites and mammoth tusks murmur their extinct languages. We strongly emphasize that the greatest scientific revolution of the end of the eighteenth century was not the excavation of a single “deep time”: indispensably, it simultaneously encompassed the beginning of the paleontology of psychic depth and the future permanent inscription of our own species in the fossil record. In addition to submissions explicitly envisioning the prehuman past, we encouraged speculative explorations of the overlap of geological and archaeological deep time, Dreamtime, post-Capitalocene future deep time, the flora and fauna of childhood doodles, the interval between falling asleep and waking, the suspended time of fossilization, and the interior archives and libraries of the hollow Earth. So let’s curl ourselves into the mane of a mummified dinosaur before the long-awaited glaciation of fatbergs consumes us all… – The Mormyrids
