There is a machine- the machine does exist- even though you could live your whole life without knowing why we are its hosts, without realizing it long ago burrowed deep inside you, that its bunkered down- with machiavellian adherence to detail- in the underworld ventricles of your dreams, and surveys the remote reaches of your reality-engorged psyche. Infiltrating us must be a simple and as painless as inhaling a breath of air- could even be how it gets in, passing through as undetected as a renegade virus, camoflauged in the round midst of a jostling rush of oxygen molecules, oblivious and crowding each other in the suck of the intake, and easily abandoned once inside; they continue on and diappear ahead while it hovers in dark mid-descent: the machine: a microcosmic pulse of alien subterfuge- fully equipped with any number of access codes, all derived from crack copies of socialization, and fully operational. Or maybe it's in us from the start, this machine, lying acient and dormant in the sub-soil of our dNa, an inheritance imperfectly designed to take subtle hold as we grow older- a steel-plated root system of myriad barnacle grips weeded succintly into the groundzero of our mitochondria; growing or not growing all the while because we swallow society and it feeds on what we give it. Wrenching out is possible…Mutate any twisted set of chaos theorems and apply them to the random disorder of delicate electronic devices- incubate in an open field, an empty warehouse, a magnetic pole, an industrial wasteland- send into orbit around the hallucinogenic pericardiums of people dancing- crystallize individually outside the space-time axis- and collectively flood the miasma of reality with the freequencies of a soundsytem whose geothermic core radiates tekno and r-evolution… There is a machine and it's spewing out shit in almost every way imaginable- our society is fucked, and sick, and getting sicker, and there seems to be no brakes on its kamikaze flight into the unsane, gorging itself all the while…Havoc, then, is a heresy- part of the conspiracy of a mutant arm reaching down to take hold of the spewing nozzle and turning it back onto the macine itself… full-on hardkor… janelhavoc 5-23