Download Schizophrenic Nightmare and Other Lurid Flavors Awful Grace Homepage I was working on the following episode for months before COVID-19 derailed it. The argument it attempted to make is still strong but only relevant during non “end times” type shit. It was to be named Ouroboros Obese. Because it’ll be a little bit before I’m able to start over and release something else I thought to share the intro and outro of a thing you’ll otherwise never hear.

Awful Grace, or The Tolling of the Void Bell

The Head and the Tail of the Snake, Presented Meekly on Cracked China

EATHEACH, a new podcast from the producer of Awful Grace, featuring short works of indiscriminate origin. Listen on Apple Podcasts.

presenting EATHEACH

The Apocalypse Equation/Invocation of the Hyperreal: A prelude to The Mulch Prophet, a forthcoming work of post-fiction from The Champagne's Electric.

The Apocalypse Equation/Invocation of the Hyperreal

You only asked we not forget as you must do the same. Those memories died with you, my love. Again the never came.

Again the Never Came

Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing. - Emily Dickinson How to Sell America! in the Twenty-First Century, or Exhibits on the Withering Effect of Eternal Light Exhibits: I. Conversations with a Serial Rapist II. Meryl Streep Thanks God III. When the Blood Dries, Sell It IV. The Fear Mongrel’s Bark V. A Selfie with the Hindenburg VI. Monetized Schizophrenia and Other Benefits from Living on a Flattened Earth VII. When Superman Declines, Who Will Wear the Cape   Produced by The Champagne's Electric, Chicago. MMXIX. Awful Grace is dedicated to the memory of Cecilia Vaisman. 

How to Sell America! in the Twenty-First Century

11.22.XXXX A Day in America A tragedy told in XXXX acts, set in XXXX, USA during the year of our Lord XXXX, A.D. Produced by The Champagne's Electric, Chicago MMXVIII

11.22.XXXX

Ruina Imperii or Our Feet Still Wet from the Riveredge  or A Mournful Addendum for Dr. Sagan (A Dirge in Six Parts) First, a content warning: The following piece is composed of some of the most disturbingly violent events ever recorded, most of which are presented with scant editing and at full volume. It includes graphic audio clips of suicides, murders, and man-made disasters. (I am obligated to also note that the most-featured clip details the implicit murder of many young children by their parents and caregivers. Though none of the violence being done to these children is recorded directly by the microphone, their screams can be heard in the distance throughout the clip.) "And, putting his hand on mine with a cheerful glance from which I drew strength, he introduced me into the secret things. There sighs, weeping, loud wailing resounded through the starless air, for which at the outset I shed tears. Strange languages, horrible tongues, words of pain, accents of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and sounds of blows with them, made a tumult that turns forever in that air darkened without time, like the sand when the whirlwind blows." Inferno, by Dante Alighieri (C3, 19-31) Awful Grace is produced by The Champagne's Electric and is dedicated to the memory of Cecilia Vaisman.    

Ruina Imperii

Portions of this episode are presented in Korean with no accompanying English translation.  Produced by Elise Byun and The Champagne's Electric. Chicago, MMXVIII --- LOUISE - Kangaroo. COLONEL WEBER - What? LOUISE - In 1770, Captain James Cook's ship ran aground on the coast of Australia. He led a party into the country and met the aboriginal people. One of his sailors pointed to the animals that hopped around with their young in pouches, and asked what they were called. The aborigine replied "Kanguru." COLONEL WEBER - What's your point? LOUISE - It wasn't until later that they learned "Kanguru" means "I don't understand." **** IAN - Is that true? The kangaroo story? LOUISE - No. But it made my point. - Excerpt from "Arrival", screenplay by Eric Heisserer   "The world is my world: this is manifest in the fact that the limits of language (of that language which alone I understand) mean the limits of my world." - Excerpt from Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1922), Ludwig Wittgenstein

208 - 캥거루 / To Her, Everything is Precious

“For each fire is all fires, and the first fire and the last ever to be.” - Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy INTERMISSION, from 54:09 to 1:01:24 This essay is dedicated to Shamiya Adams, Samuel Walker Jr. and the silent dead of this city. I also owe an undying gratitude to Cecilia Vaisman, Martine Granby, Ritesh Sharma and Alex Wroblewski.  

207 - They Tell Me You Are Wicked (III)

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand; A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?   "The Second Coming", W.B. Yeats

206 - The Treachery of Sounds (II)

riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs. Sir Tristram, violer d’amores, fr’over the short sea, had passen-core rearrived from North Armorica on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor to wielderfight his penisolate war: nor had topsawyer’s rocks by the stream Oconee exaggerated themselse to Laurens County’s gorgios while they went doublin their mumper all the time: nor avoice from afire bellowsed mishe mishe to tauftauf thuartpeatrick not yet, though venissoon after, had a kidscad buttended a bland old isaac: not yet, though all’s fair in vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with twone nathandjoe. Rot a peck of pa’s malt had Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight and rory end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface. The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonner-ronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthur — nuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy. The great fall of the offwall entailed at such short notice the pftjschute of Finnegan, erse solid man, that the humptyhillhead of humself prumptly sends an unquiring one well to the west in quest of his tumptytumtoes: and their upturnpikepointandplace is at the knock out in the park where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since dev-linsfirst loved livvy.

205 - bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk! (I)

These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume.

204 - #A2ACAE

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st; So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare

203 - I Heard it on the Road to New Jerusalem

The Young Man's Last Words, said with Confidence to the Devil Unbeknownst. "Bet you won't."

202 - Winnow the Circle

We Real Cool, by Gwendolyn Brooks   THE POOL PLAYERS.  SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.   We real cool. We Left school. We   Lurk late. We Strike straight. We   Sing sin. We Thin gin. We   Jazz June. We Die soon.

201 - Manchild in the Promised Land

Daemon songs from The Champagne's Electric. Chicago.

hubhopper

Awful Grace, or The Tolling of the Void Bell

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