Duluth! Tricia taps, love it or loath it, you can never leave it or lose it because no matter how blunt with insectivorous time your mandibles become those myriad eggs that you cannot help but lay cannot help but hatch new vermiforous and myriapodal generations, forever lively in this present tense where you—all of you—are now at large, even though, simultaneously, you are elsewhere, too, rooted in that centripetal darkness where all this was, and where all this will be, once the bright inflorescence that is, or—now for that terminal shift, Tricia; press the lever!—was present-day human Duluth has come to its predestined articulated and paginated end. Yes. Duluth! Loved. Loathed. Left. Lost.
Gore Vidal
writing in “Duluth”
quoted in ‘Bankrupt Centipedes From Outer Space’
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“Them!” at Wikipedia
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Real Estate Gothic
Christmas Witches: Ogres And Showgirls
Meanwhile, In An Abandoned Strip Mine...
‘Bankrupt Centipedes From Outer Space’
The Occult Technology Of Lost Songs
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