Fragments

Summer 1987. The splash of the swimming pool echoes on the edge of earshot in my cousin's room out in Carolina, gear stacked against the wall and freestyle riddims in full force in the twilight.

A man's gotta know his limitations...

I decided to leave with them. We set sail that very night. I was one of the crew. We called at unknown ports. For the first time, I heard the name of...

Terranova, Terranova... doesn't that mean new land?, I heard a voice say. Traffic sounds hang like hieroglyphs in the thick of the afternoon.

A creature lurks in the deep — fathoms deep beneath bass pressure and walls of inertia — submerged in an ocean of sound.

Dedicated to the memory of Chris Hani, Bruce Lee, Brandon Lee & Yoshihiro Hattori. May your journey through the stars be peaceful.

It was in that moment that she could see the connections, like a lattice of accord stretching over what once seemed like a tangle of happenstance.

We stumbled out into the rain-slicked streets, half-lit in the blur of dim lamps burning, dawn tucked somewhere beyond the rise. The sound of dub drifts...

Teotihuacán looms in the distance, ship runs steady with the Quetzalcoatl mixtape lodged safely in the deck, pulsing sounds of the Mental Cube booming through the forest. It's a Yage.

The arrival at Arecibo. Artech in rotation against the sky, circling concentric the vast aluminum dish set within the surface of the Earth. SETIvision.