Chasm Emerges from the Depths By Levi Rubeck • August 7th, 2018 Chasm ticks all the boxes, but at the same time suffers from its own success. I want it to be just a little bit more.
Mini-Operas in Grind and Glitch By Levi Rubeck • July 26th, 2018 How grindcore taught me to appreciate Tierra Whack.
Daughters Split Open Their Satanic Chrysalis By Levi Rubeck • July 18th, 2018 This country has had no shortage of crusty street preachers, split-lip soothsayers crawling across glass-littered asphalt to cough up a truth few are brave enough to bear.
Ill Considered’s Sublime Echolocation By Levi Rubeck • July 12th, 2018 I watched Lost Highway alone at midnight, on a sweltering Northern California summer evening, and when it was finally over I only really retained two thoughts.
Netrunner is Dead, Long Live Netrunner By Levi Rubeck • July 5th, 2018 It’s a lifestyle game, and like the word implies, to live the Netrunner life is to let it consume your thoughts at all times.
A Mandala of Space Bullets By Levi Rubeck • June 27th, 2018 In bullet-hell, tactics, and life, man plans and god/nature/the universe laughs. You can drill those fingers or try to anticipate every possible outcome, but in the end we are flawed beings living at the whims of the cosmos.
The Swamp Sweat of Young Widows By Levi Rubeck • June 20th, 2018 Young Widows tweaked their smoldering incantations from album to album, and DECAYED does more than collect the detritus.
The Ethics of a Human Whopper By Levi Rubeck • June 14th, 2018 These ideas, of food in games as something more than a vessel of health or the act of consumption, settles like a river mist over Vampyr.
Red Hare Refuses to Fade By Levi Rubeck • June 6th, 2018 What can be expected from a community mostly fueled on youthful energy? Life hits with a closed fist, and subsisting against the grain is suspiciously similar to a real job. Except working for yourself has even worse benefits.
Epistolary Voicemail By Levi Rubeck • May 31st, 2018 Enjoying a recent New Yorker online poetry experiment where Natalie Diaz and Ada Limón are explicitly communicating with each other, and we are shepherded on the atmosphere that extends between them.
