Bunker Logic


Excerpt from Applied Ballardianism: A Theory of Nothing

“Eventually, I passed a WWII bunker half hidden by dunes. It was covered almost completely in long grass, but unlike the Rembrandt, once sighted, it captured my attention in an instant, and I scrambled up and over the high dune shielding it to gain a closer view.

I knew then that my failure to sync with Rembrandt had marked me for what I was: a popcult idiot savant paddling in the shallows, not well-read enough to be an intellectual, too disconnected from reality to be a cultural commentator, too absorbed in the familiar to be a philosopher. A travel writer was just about my level and corroborated my decision to leave Ballard and academia far behind, yet I could never be content, for something deep and unnameable continued to eat at me from inside.”