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Reflections on deep time, archaeology, and the origins of civilization, prompted by the accusation of thought-crimes by a reader in an online comment

Has the world already ended? Are we dead? Neither literally nor metaphorically, this essay argues that we have become spectral beings in our image of the world.

Imagine you have survived the ecological crisis of the next hundred years and you are writing as if you were of that era about the state of things.

A poem contemplating Icarus’s flight, intertwining ancient themes with modern pathos. This is complemented by images of the sculpture that inspired the poem and an audio performance by the Editor.

I wish I had been a child then // long, slender / circular years / peeled years / sloshing around / in the fluids of my thinking

A virgin will rebuild from ash the burning library at Alexandria. She will not take any prisoners. Her large eyes will be tests that you must pass. For a third time will the Argo sail, outperforming Voyager One. You will learn of how this ship is not different from your body. It will move beyond the speed of light.