Schizoid memery is cyclical. Things get quiet for a while, then the neurotypical graphic madness explodes again in a brilliant deluge of color and verbiage. I suspect pharmaceuticals are an influence (and possibly, hospitalization).
So while Americans prepare to feast this Thursday, you can feast your mind and soul on a cornucopia of cracked wisdom from our postmodern/apocalyptic seers and shamans. In fact, there's so much fresh schiz out there I may have to put up another collection this week. I live to serve.
Which is why I have slashed prices to the bone on my books for the next ten days, even though it's gonna cost me (Big Daddy Amabucks takes the lion's share of the list price, believe it).
I know a lot of folks are struggling this year, so I'm doing whatever I can to help out. You all out there have been so kind to me this past year, so it's the least I can do.
Put your favorite(s) on your wishlist, and/or pick one up for the smart weirdos on your shopping list. I have to say the hardcovers are especially beautiful and will make very lovely gifts.
And just a heads-up; this Friday I'll be hosting the Epstein livestream to end all Epstein livestreams. Believe me, you don't want to miss this one. If you think you know this story, just hold on to your hat. Is what I'm saying.
With all that out of the way, let's dive together into salty, shimmering seas of Schizmemery...
