Featuring: Steven Cline, Hazel Cline, Aaron Dylan Kearns, Juli Maria Kearns, Megan Leach, Steve Morrison

Egregore soundscape: Hazel Cline, Martin Kearns

Egregorrhea #6 – Surrealist Egregores, Or, How To Take A Collect Call Collectively
written by Jason Abdelhadi and narrated by Juli Maria Kearns

Film, editing, original background music: Aaron Dylan Kearns

I was a jailer, but my prisoners were all chickens. I saw up on the hill outside the prison a boar and some other animals. (apes?) I walked up the hill started snuggling the boar. Then the scene suddenly shifted and I was dancing obscenely down some busy city streets in nothing but my underwear. I wasn’t embarrassed, thinking “this is just a dream, they can’t really see me”. But then I started to worry-was it actually a dream? How would I really know? What if they started to see me? I then woke up.

I want to rent a Christopher Walken movie. I remember that the film is from the 90s, vaguely cyberpunk and internet related. At the video store, I walk around looking for it. I borrow a membership card from a friend, and this causes me to become covered in ants. I find the film, but somehow instead of watching it I “become” a scene in it. I am in a french canal, riding a motorcycle underwater. I accidentally disturb a rabbit mother and her nest down there under the water with my motorcycle. I feel guilty. I drop the motorcycle, and start to walk back with her to bring her to her babies, but am confronted by a friend on a bridge, who shames me further about what I have done to these rabbits.

I was driving home to my parents house in the country. It was night. In the distance, a massive plane very slowly angled downwards, and then crashed into the ground, lighting up the sky with red. Behind the explosion, the dark silhouettes of city skyscapers were briefly seen, and then vanished. I checked twitter for news on this crash, but could only find vague or roundabout references to it, nothing that made sense. A bit later, there was news of a Mark David Chapman-type going a shooting spree, claiming he’d been inspired by the book My Body and I by Rene Crevel.

Coal-black lung drips under cloak. Aren’t they swell in the swollen summer? And aren’t they living?

The light overcomes the house and makes everything become transparent even the earth and I walk over to it and everything shatters like glass and I fall through the glass and feel glass cutting into my skin.

Windows like to watch, too. Maybe they don’t look it, but they are the most accomplished voyeurs in the world of architecture and modern designers don’t quite know what to do about it. Perhaps a change and/or abolishment of all laws of decency indecently forced on us since the advent of the wheel would fix the problem.

The black door expands, becomes bristly brown porcupine fur. It lengthens and pops. Becomes liquid and gas. It opens the way.

Something then exits the front door as a sludge. It comes down the hill and it covers them up to their necks smothering like molasses or a cold thick honey and they remain trapped there suspended and barely able to move.

A dung beetle’s ball soon rolls into view, swiftly followed by its concerned beetle parent. Dogs run by, barking joyfully. Snakes sprout like roses.

Collective text / Megan Leach, Steven Cline, Casi Cline

The Flesh-eating books have become enraged.
Therefore the somber orange hue remains visible.
That is why ovaries never sing.

The larva cannot become a ladybug.
Therefore the earth is unraveling.
This is why the larvae should eat cinnamon.

The clouds are dripping marshmallow juice.
Therefore the great hibernation has begun.
That is how mitochondria may become enlightened.

Casi has transformed into Mt. Fuji.
Therefore the fronds parted.
This is why the ears are sprouting lizard tongues.

The road outside is made of mice.
Therefore the frog’s gaze continued unwavering in its deceit.
That is how endocytic stains may be erased.

Carpel tunnels are interwoven into the city.
Therefore the goat begat a groan.
This is why the flew to the lighthouse.

Catfish fly higher than any other fruit.
Therefore a spiderweb plague is brewing.
That is why we sprouted wings.

Witches eat calf blood for lunch.
Therefore a spirit knocks at the door.
This is why equilibrium is attainable.

Swamps call out for more moles and better wages.
Therefore electricity turns into blood.
That’s because a cat’s sins cannot be conceived.

Snakes duck into the homes of bee aficionados.
Therefore your coat is reciting the alphabet.
That is why sound was removed from our conscious memory.

PREDICTIONS FOR 2019

Jan 2: Kitten entrails get together to start a revolution.

Feb 2: Multifarious moles will divulge their secret teachings.

March 3: A torpal wind will carry a fine swarm of bees to the moon.

April 17: Extraterrestrial honeybees will impregnate all storage sheds.

May 17: Trump’s entrails will be consumed by birds.

June 1: Each creature will grow a second shadow.

August 3: The Earth will shed its crust and grow scales.

(Megan, Casi, Steven)

Dream: I got a package in the mail. The return address said it was from Ellen Degeneres, but when I opened it it was really from the surrealist Bruno Jacobs. It was filled with fish and sea related objects. Concrete feet with fins coming off them, Flat fish bowls, etc. There was also a letter which I didn’t get a chance to read before I woke up, though it had a hole torn or burnt through it in the center, which I think is in reference to my copy of Kurt Seligmann’s History of Magic, which has a center part of a page torn out rather mysteriously in the section on kabbalah.