It all happened once upon a time in Necrocity. Trippy dystopia of drugs: "I fray vein by vein above a sky of absence, led by inertia." Empire of dark sex: "His eager fingers look for the slot of her vagina among the dead fish. Clouds of sperms armed with Corona beer and rocket launchers. Fire now." Kingdom of death: "I then understood that sex was only an excuse, a stepping-stone to death. I felt nothing, while taking her into my arms. I turned out to be a killing machine." And anarchy is the only law. In the Shadow of the Blue Rascal is too inconsequential and too illogical and its only merit is a rather experimental and jittery visualization.
Review of À l'ombre de la canaille bleue
