March
13, 2017
FOR
IMMEDIATE RELEASE: ARTS NEWSPAPER SPONSORS EXORCISM OF CREEPY MANHATTAN SPYHUB
Date:
Saturday, April 15th
Time: 12 P.M.
Location: 33 Thomas St. New York, NY
Good
Morning!
On April 15th, The
Quiet American – an arts and politics journal based out of Ridgewood,
Queens – will perform a rite of exorcism on the building at 33 Thomas Street,
codenamed ‘TITANPOINTE’ in NSA files recently released by Edward Snowden.
Located in the dark heart of downtown Manhattan, the building is a major
communications hub nominally owned by AT&T, but which houses at least two
floors of NSA data collection facilities.
In the interests of metaphysically purging the edifice
of the data it hoards and invoking a less maniacal version of
citizen-government relations, on April 15th at 12 p.m. a cadre of
priests, supplicants, and a volunteer choir affiliated with The Quiet American will
exorcise the malevolent energy coursing through the so-called ‘Long Lines
Building’ at 33 Thomas Street. This sacred day falls approximately one day before the
rising of Christ, and three days before tax day.
Beginning with a prayer for the building’s physical materials
and an invocation of the gods this architectural fiasco has insulted, exorcisors
will then lay a perimeter of salt around the building to render ineffective the
sinister frequencies it broadcasts. In a rite of liberation and fertility, thousands
of pages of personal data, bouquets of flowers, and an ostrich egg will then be
sacrificed to the building, thereby triggering a massive spiritual data
hemorrhage that will release the banal facts of our lives back into their
proper home - the ether – and expel the demons of fear and suspicion from the
temple.
Out
demons out! You too are affected! Protect the Self!
For more information:
editor@thequietamericanreview.org.
About 33 Thomas Street
Windowless, monolithic, and creepy as all hell, the building at 33 Thomas Street is an altar to a false god, a monument
to the bottomless fear that locks us in permanent war and makes us suspicious
of our neighbors, our own towns and cities, our own capabilities and impulses. Windowless,
shuttered to the world that it is intended to spy on, the building at 33 Thomas
Street is a maelstrom of negative energy, a black hole that sucks up light in
the form of our personal communications, then in some alchemical sleight of
hand returns that light in the form of a panic and dread which we are assured
is the real common currency of our civic life. Rather than allay fears of the
end however, this brutalist heap - designed to withstand a nuclear assault and
sustain the employees working within its bowels for two weeks - broadcasts
paranoia.
Why We Exorcise
We reject the fear that this building represents; not merely
that fear's ugly architectural expression but the very premise of the building,
the cheap perfume of a doomsday wish that - let's admit it - is very sexy to a
nation raised on Arnold Schwarzenegger and Tom Clancy films. We reject the
image of the world that requires such a building, just as we reject the banal image
of ourselves that it creates. It is an architectural vote of no-confidence in
faith, hope, charity, or any of the ideals that we aspire to as Americans, much
less humans: a tombstone to our better selves. As such, the building must be
made metaphysically non-operational as soon as possible. If this all-spying eye is with us in every
moment, can we ever be alone?
About The
Quiet American:
The
Quiet American is an arts and politics journal that explores the dreary,
hysterical landscape of American media and proposes a brighter, gentler alternative.
Arrogantly published in the anachronistic medium of newsprint 4 times a year by
a ruthless group of men and women, The Quiet American makes its home among the rocks, nooks, and
crannies left unexplored by conventional, profitable outlets.
Contact:
The Quiet American
Review
Online:
instagram.com/thequietamericanreview/
