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Is Anything Sacred?

Music used to be, but seems like anyone can get away with it (without actually feeling it).

People certainly are (regardless of my previous comment), but we never treat others, or ourselves, as something fragile, spectacular, and statistically improbable. In fact, we look at most life -- including the more complex and self-aware expressions -- as competition, and because of unfathomable instant connectivity, a source of swelling, inescapable intolerance.

So, to find what's sacred, what's truly, eternally intact regardless of cozying or screaming entropy -- both societal and spiritual -- I fall back into what I love. What I connect with. What empowers me. And that, my friends, is science fiction. Or, in an immediately symbolic sense, a giant super-robot powered by orbiting solar colossi in the center of a very quiet, social media-free galaxy with nary a viral signal of collective cognitive rot. 

I'm sorry, but all that noise? It distracts from saving the universe.

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The Players

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Cover Art
by Alexis

Alexis Ziritt is the master of black light-suffused sci-fi psychedelia, and I knew his style and crackling cosmic palate would plunder my psyche with roaring psionic fire. It's a gorgeous piece, and another instance of leaning on an aesthetic/genre I've always loved; another historically bound aspect of what thrills -- and continues to sculpt -- my implausible me-ness.  



(If they were physical copies, you would HAVE to own both covers. I mean, as a collector, you would simply HAVE to.)

Jack Teagle's deceptively simple illustrations convey big ideas with brightly colored, child-like exuberance. The shapes are courageous, the energy immense, and the subjects range from translucent lifeforms bearing naked nervous systems to abandoned astronauts overgrown with fern-like alien flora.

It was the perfect fit for a not-at-all-physical-but-fun-to-pretend alternate cover.


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1:25 Variant Cover
by Ultra-Jack Teagle

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