The text is a sliver taken from "Fragments of a Funhouse Mirror" from Doghead Cola's e-book Smith's Each Of Illusion Textual contributions by Israel Unger and Doghead Cola; excremeditated in Third Mind by Doghead Cola  
. . . Once inside the funhouse, I viewed myself as one would view a character in a movie. This is where I received instruction. The ride was a manipulation of coaster tracks on a horizontal plane, as opposed to loop-to-loop. Lolling my swollen eyes, all around the tracks was blackness intermixed with many swirling parliamentarians, bodies at rest, a cynical poet, Mohammed’s celestial rock, the sweet maternal hand of sleep, a massive crowd of students, crude oil, my painter’s son, elegant trunks of trees, a toothless Arab sorcerer, great fires, orphans, the spattered form of paint, vinaigrette, and wispy colors. My two companions had disappeared briefly up ahead of me… Why this taunt? At this point I awoke for a few seconds, then continued the dream…

And so it was—the beginning of a new era: The time to be dreamed in a very real, biological sense.

I sat alone, waiting. Within moments, and uncoiled from the gray walls, funhouse television speared the earth with purest accident, the glassy dust of a thousand splintered shards—firefly demons—punctured the pitchy black. That would be my sun. Within my wet sockets, these new surroundings erected on hypnotic canvas like inbred and arthritic nightmare sleep.		  
   

Selected works of Brian Comerford
(E23, Doghead Cola, Neoconjob)

creative | academic | exploratory