Whatever happened to Dr Shamass?





For a variety of reasons I haven’t been able to produce a Shamass card this year. So instead you’ll have to plump for an electronic missive–an e-postcard no less. And, indeed, this is the face of things to come. Though hopefully I’ll be back with a physical publication next year, in convenient postcard form.

Looking over the vast Shamass repository that makes up much of this anticipative library at the end of time, I notice that I haven’t uploaded a Shamass card since December 2016. Those of youse who receive the Shamass card by way of the post offices of the world know that there have been two more since then, including one in which that exhausting saga involving no less a personage than Lord Jacks & ass. finally came to an end. So, in the upcoming weeks or days I will endeavour to bring the timeless Dr Shamass up to date or at least in sync with one version of the present.

In the meantime, feast your eyes upon the hi-res card (above) or a low-res PDF here.

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The new politics?

from Notes from the sinister quarter

trumpofthewill .

I designed this image for an imaginary zine called ANTIANTIPOETRYPOETRY dated 1 March 2016. That means it’s been sitting in my dropbox since at least then, maybe a bit before. I called it “the new politics”.

There is little new in Trump’s playbook. Sure the details have changed. Technology has rolled on, capitalism has developed across the globe. If Trump is not a fascist, in the classical sense, then maybe he is a new type of fascist? Or emblematic of a softening of “mainstream” politics for fascism?

Fascism is a form of capital’s rule, one exception in what is already a too long exception.

Is this a new politics? Hardly. A (new) anti-politics? But politics has always been anti. It is the reduction of something to something, the rendering identical of an abstract capacity, whether as a citizen or refugee, worker or consumer.

The politics of the…

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Posted in 2016, antyphayes, Canberra, Criticism, Détournement, Zines | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Prolégomène à La Révolution imaginaire


How to mic up the trembling hands of a drunk”

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Aktion Surreal 1991-1994

From my other nefarious blog…

AktionSurrealStall1992 Aktion Surreal stall, ANU Union Court, Canberra, 1992

Back in 2011 Gerald Keaney published a critical account of the group Aktion Surreal. Aktion Surreal (hereafter AS) was formed in late 1991 by myself and Gerald. Early the following year we launched the group on an unsuspecting world (ok, the ANU in Canberra) and were pleasantly surprised to find that many others were keen to join our experiment. I think around 25 or 30 people came along to the first meeting in January, 1992, in the ANU Uni bar (now, unfortunately, reduced to so much rubble and dust). Our initial inspiration was a sort of mash up of Punk DIY and 1920s Parisian Dada and Surrealism. On this basis we wanted to see whether we could attract other wretched souls to participate in what we then understood as “avant-garde” or “experimental” art. Considering that I  expected about 5 people at most…

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Posted in 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, Canberra, Collaboration, Criticism, Ern Malley Press, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Moon Mystery (the enigma of the lunar day)


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The voice of vacuum

Excellent takedown of an author I’ve had no time for and probably never will.


6073305962_d723de563a_oThe return of the space opera genre at the hands of such writers as Iain Banks, Stephen Baxter, Ken MacLeod, Charles Strauss and Alastair Reynolds poses an interesting paradox. Classical space opera was relentlessly optimistic, comfortable in its unchallenged, masturbatory fantasy of boyish omnipotence. Here were the easy moral dichotomies and puritanism, disingenuous homophobia and appallingly thin characterization of a genre that spawned sixty thousand iterations of the boy wonder, can-do man, neutered intellectual and space harpy, all warmed to a rosy glow by the unstoppable sun of progress. As science fiction matured in the 1960s and 1970s, little was left of the genre except a campy aftertaste. When in the 1990s, space opera made a spectacular come-back, in form at least the new wave vastly amplified the scale of the classics: whereas Arthur Clarke’s The City and The Stars spanned a mere billion years and some sixty pages, Stephen…

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Doctor Shamass, 1896 – Part 5



Dear readers, I can tell you, it ends! This year, the sixth and final part of A Christmas Tale of H.B. Shamass, 1896, will be winging its way across the world by other than electronic means …

If, perchance, you wish to receive hard copies of this story, email me at antyphayes [at] gmail [dot] com and say hello

However before you can read part six you need to read the fifth. And, dear and loyal raeders of the airwaves, here be the fifth part, finally in zipbook form.

The fourth part was published in the Shamass card of 2014the third part was published in the Shamass card of 2013the second part was published in the Shamass card of 2012, and the first part was published in the Shamass card of 2011.

To recap:

In part 1, Lord Jacks & ass., nemesis par excellence, captured our hero and transported him to the southernmost continent for nefarious ends. As all loyal readers know, such is the case even though this noble blackguard had never yet figured in the back catalogue. Shipwrecked on an icy shore, Shamass, Jacks & some remaining ass. approach the Antarctic plateau and the mysterious entry to the lair of the most enigmatic of souls: Saint Rouge.

In part 2, Doctor Shamass, Jacks & some remaining ass. find succor in the Lair of Saint Rouge, co-conspirator of Lord Jacks. But wait, Saint Rouge is not in league with Jacks, he is a saltwort friend of the good Doctor! Alas Jacks finds out this noble deception and after a brief but decisive struggle throws Shamass into the vast dark of the hollowed out Earth [cf. the diagram on the back of the 1896 (cont.) card].

In part 3, Doctor Shamass, flung into the vast and empty void within the (hollow) Earth itself, fell and dreamt of other days and impossible things.

In part 4, the good Doctore, having been kidnapped, carted, shipwrecked, and sword fightin’, plunging-through-the-very-centre-of-the-earth-n’-rescued-from-the-howling-wastes-of-the-North-Pole-by-themysterious-Miss-X, discovers himself once more in the clinging grasp of his sinister nemesis par excellence. A battle ensues.

Now read on…

[and don’t forget all things Shamass here]
Posted in 2015, antyphayes, Détournement, Science Fiction, Shamass, Zines | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment