About CapGun

We take the Fever as our central metaphor–the shivering uncontrollably between sheets soaked with sweat. Such vacillation! But when we say Imagination, we mean it in the ancient sense of the word: fathers who say things like “never trust a man who doesn’t drink”, and orgasms that feel as good in Poughkeepsie as in Paris. We take as our model several ‘little magazines’ that never saw the light of day; in this sense we are both an empty body waiting to be filled and an embodiment fulfilling a lengthy wait. To name these magazines would be limiting, and if you aren’t willing to do the research for us, we don’t want you. Forms are of utmost importance here, so long as they did not previously exist. If you didn’t make it up, or at least deceive yourself well enough to think so, go nail yourself to something titanium.

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