A heady mix., c/o : Dr. Zimbadean.,


Agoraphobia. Cabin fever. Endemic paranoia. Nightmare wet dreams of anarchy. Fantasies of ultra-violence directed at the innocent.
A Cocktail recipe for A heady mix.
And Garnished with out of body experiences of seemingly random criminal acts and wild displays of poetic terrorism. Shaking with screaming eyes and hands the sleepers from their sleep.


But when analysed and replayed in the deep cold sweat of curled foetal shivering listening to the heart beat erratically it makes a perfect sense...


The mall creature is clawing back its own identity. The mall creature has been bent too far out of shape and it lurches between insane acts of social violence and docile servility. Like a pendulum counting out the internal time till ground zero is reached once more on the face of this clock, heaving within the restraints of the numerals printed - like an undisciphered code - in a clear black font mapping out legal legitimate time for all to see. But what horrors are being suppressed within the lurid and pornographic time zone of the cult of the Shopping Mall? What sacrifice will the 2 for 1 offer eventually ask of each and every one of its Faithful followers? What can the subliminal command "70% discount on selected lines for a limited time only" possibly mean in the mind of a mall creature?


Time as an index of value. Value being denoted by temporal points of reference,. inflation when value increases over time and deflation when values decrease over time. What can our mall creature make of this? Time no longer the passage through space but its evacuation. And as our Mall Creature prepares for the final evacuation of space to pass into the realm of pure relative value denoted by time, what will it be forced to leave behind? When value no longer refers to space and its contents but time and its control what will Mall Creature mutate into? Some kind of super rubix-cube covered in temporal destinations over laid with abstracted values? Is the Mall Creature a Time Traveller, a Temoral Nomadic Being escaped the bondage of space, or a Victim of the Total War against its own sense of Time, warped into a state of semi-comprehension constantly obeying contradictory commands?


Eventually the imbalances will cause the rift to erupt into a series of seamless tragedies. An exhibition of atrocities. A house of vile energies. The mall creature must keep silent, masking what’s within; for if it shared its inner emptiness it would be in a constant state of implosion : like a black hole, taking all the light with it on that suffocating inner journey to the centre of where it started out from.
Is it possible that We live in a society of black holes that wear more and more glitter and shiny things to avert attention from what is going on underneath?
Perhaps. Perhaps not. But whatever else you don't do., please Mix this cocktail with care and discretion.



Inevitably though., Whatever happens, one day sooner than you'd think, even the mall creature will refuse its consent, or else be swallowed into the void of its own non-being.


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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROn_9302UHg

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Dr. Zimbadean., (a leading psycho-analyst at the insititute for consumer well-being and part time voodoo witch-doctor).