The Intrusion, a metaphysical zone of temporal anomaly, occupies a single neighborhood of metropolitan Seattle. How it came to be is unknown – perhaps as the result of technological experimentation by the Morgen Aerospace Corporation, working on behalf of the defense industry, perhaps through the intervention of non-human intelligences that are ubiquitous but hidden – but within it, the rules of physics and the rules of the psyche are subtly different. It appears that a divergent historical timeline or parallel dimension has been transposed into this one, specific zone surrounding Morgen Airfield. Those who visit from outside might meet their doubles in this place, should their otherSelves – differently affected, differently developed – happen to have been in the neighborhood at the time of the Change.

Such is the case for Joe. Beleaguered by his struggling grocery business and a loveless marriage, living within a near-deserted city that has been psychologically and economically wrecked by the Change, he finds a version of himself as citizen of the Intrusion who seems to live a more full and authentic life, who is well-adapted to the bizarre conditions of his own world, but who utterly baffles Joe number one.

As circumstances at home rapidly unravel, this Joe choses to take refuge in the only place he feels he might be suited to. But it’s not as if conditions in the Intrusion are intrinsically better, nor are the rules of survival clear in this place either. Only different, only other – where the influence of something which may or may not come from another world entirely is more in evidence…

Numinosum Radio

[an experimental musical/sound art podcast]

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Current Episode 170: pressure studies

I should set this in the present tense : One theorem : I meet or am going to meet another man. This is a man who is trustworthy. We pass each other, walking in our separate directions, acknowledge each other with a nod and a slight smile. We could be the same man. He is wearing a suit, and in that he is different from me (in that I’ve worn a suit, for real, once in my life – and that seems a mistake now, to have worn that suit ever). The situation is a living room that is crowded with detail. It is no fancy living room – middle class, average in a way of the middle class in that it has nice things, but nothing that stands out. Nothing ostentatious. But is it crowded with detail, a sofa, a coffee table, there is green vegetation, there are people coming and going – quite a lot of them in fact. But these are all background people. They’re vague, see-through, no one stays. It is bright near the high window, where the sunlight comes in through, and I can see what must be the branches of deciduous trees outside. But beyond the sunlight beam, there is dark. It’s like a tunnel or a warehouse of dark. People come out of the dark and they go back into it.

The man in the suit and I pass each other some distance from the scene of the living room, back towards the dark, half-enshrouded by it. He is leaving the scene of the living room, while I am coming toward it.

[For word generator, guitar, field recording, blandishments]