The Sunset Was Apricot
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Men go out into the void spaces of the world for various reasons. Some are actuated simply by a love of adventure, some have the keen thirst for scientific knowledge, and others again are drawn away from the trodden paths by the “lure of little voices”, the mysterious fascination of the unknown.
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If the water is cold when you fall in, clench your jaw and resist taking that first panicked gasp because it’s usually the one that drowns you. Limit heat loss by keeping your knees to your chest. Never swim against the current. Kick off heavy boots or shoes. If it’s not too cold, remove and tie off the ends of your pants or shirt to capture air in them and to use them as floatation devices. Learn “drownproofing” techniques, which are low-energy swimming methods that focus on holding air in your lungs, keeping your body vertical, relaxed, and with the minimum required effort, your head just above water.
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Cape Town Wavetape
04:38
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While the Cessna was lost and wandering somewhere above the watery expanse, authorities on land tried a Hail Mary. If they could illuminate the islands brightly enough, the Cessna might just see them and find its way back home. They ordered all emergency vehicles to the highest points to turn on their flashing lights. One even suggested setting some wooded areas on fire—an idea that was quickly dismissed. “Aim spotlights upward,” yachters were instructed. The stadium lights at the baseball field were switched on. Residents were asked to turn on all household lights. Some stood in the streets waving flashlights. Two helicopters were offered for search and rescue. Their crews was instructed to fire forty-nine flares into the air, one per minute. Losing track of the Cessna was agonizing, because they could hear the pilot Frank Ohlinger and the two officers on the radio. Ohlinger, on the other hand, could hear no one. Between takeoff and his mayday call, they could hear a growing panic in his voice, his frustration with the plane’s malfunctioning GPS, compass, and, ultimately, his request that someone alert his next of kin. He tried to ease the plane into the waves, as best as he could. In the end Ohlinger said “On a good glide slope, heading north. We are at six thousand feet, doing sixty-five knots, and out of fuel.” The wreckage was never found. They had been swallowed by the Abyss.
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sunset was apricot
i saw fish with wings
flying through the air
suddenly were diving birds
deep into the sea
the sky big as it ever gets
flatness all around me
white slashes like chalk lines on
a blackboard left by shooting stars
underwater, too
glowing blue lines
oh what dazzling streaks
how was this place
magically upside down
fish in the air, birds underwater,
white streaks above and blue below
fish in the air, birds underwater
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Studying weather maps, yellow splotches indicated winds over forty-five miles per hour. Red patches showed those blowing more than fifty-five miles per hour. The chief mate said “It’s okay to be in the mustard, we just need to stay out of the ketchup.” For the next days, it was pure ketchup.
The ship swayed back and forth, listing forty degrees and battered by fifty-foot waves. Below deck, fuel sloshed in the tanks, splashing through ceiling crevices and filling the ship with diesel fumes. A plastic drum tethered to the wall broke free, coating the floor in vegetable oil that bled into the cabins below. Half the crew was seasick. It was like working on an elevator that suddenly dropped and climbed six stories every ten seconds, a coin inside a washing machine, a ping-pong ball in a bathtub, a driver in a demolition derby.
Because you can’t see much outside, you never quite know when the next wave is going to hit and how bad it will rattle the ship. So your imagination fills in the blanks. Hours of lying around your cabin can drift into days, at which point the boredom becomes a danger in itself.
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Alec Troniq Dresden, Germany
Ecstaticly forging on his huge steamrolling machinery in the manufactory. Creating sonic antidotes to save the people of
Alectropolis — a life raft to survive mankind's selfmade apocalypse.
Here's a factory selection, containing essential works which represent the Alec Troniq DNA sound.
... more
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