He built the creative studio called the Canadian Cybernetics Research Unit (CCCRU) which is a “fleshspace” populated by philosophers, freakazoids, and artistic fellas.

What is the urge to kill your consciousness?

It’s about wanting to be in the flow-state where you’re not thinking about anything. No rumination on what has to get done, or worries over interpersonal dramas. Certain flow states are more helpful than others, like making art, that’s a good flow. But scrolling, playing video games, any typical distraction, that also brings the flowstate, and that dopamine hit is lot easier to achieve than creating art.

Usually your brain is actually trying to help you out, which it does by filling your thoughts with reminders of your tasks, worries, imperfections, and these thoughts can come across as horrible. If you’re an especially sensitive person (most artists are), that pain can become unbearable and you feel the urge to numb it out.

Usually your brain is actually trying to help you out, which it does by filling your thoughts with reminders of your tasks, worries, imperfections, and these thoughts can come across as horrible. If you’re an especially sensitive person (most artists are), that pain can become unbearable and you feel the urge to numb it out.

Can you build a tolerance to this mental sensitivity?

It’s possible to build a tolerance, but I would say you shouldn’t. If you build a thick skin towards sensitivity and block it out, you’ll lose the perception that makes your art better. What you’re making won’t connect as much to people or reality, instead you’re just stacking layers of psychosis and not getting anywhere.

How does it feel when your art is misunderstood?

I’ve been fundamentally misunderstood plenty of times throughout my life, as all artists often have been. “Why would you wanna be an artist? Why don’t you get a finance job? Why don’t you do something that makes sense?” But they don’t understand, I’ve born with the terminal illness of wanting to be an artist. No matter how much you try, that’s not something you can escape.

On my main channel, the whole idea is that I’m going to be misunderstood. I play with the fact that I’m employing so many layers of irony that nobody can tell what I’m actually thinking or saying, and they ask: “Who is this guy really deep down inside?”

What is the ‘Magic Potion’, and how do you make it?

• One third manic episode
• A few tablespoons of a stimulant, seven hundred milligrams of caffeine, Vyvanse, Adderall, Nicotine, you name it.
• Time

I use this metaphor that I share with my clients, especially the ones just starting out. It’s called alchemy. You want to be a successful artist, but you don’t know what works yet. You have to be an alchemist with your work, and start trying different things, like switching your format, genre, presentation, or style. Maybe you make rock music, but this time, you switch it up, and you try mixing a pop soundtrack. Then you’re making something unique, because your pop music will have rock influences in it.

That’s the key. If you try new things for longer period of time, eventually you’ll find something that works. The only time it won’t work is if you don’t try new things, which I’ve seen. That’s the folly of so many artists, they do the same thing over and over again for years.

How do you remain experimental and bold after you become established as an artist?

The YouTuber motto is one for me, one for them. You make something for the algorithm that will get a lot of views, and you can coast on that for a while. Then you put out something completely different. Now, if you switch between consistency and creativity long enough, you end up building a following who is interested in you as an artist and aren’t there for just the a transactional relationship with your content.

Fact is, when you find your magic potion, aka the success formula, you realize that it’s impermanent. If you don’t find something new, your online presence will stagnate, as well as your character as an individual.

There are Minecraft YouTubers that blew up when they were seventeen, and then ten years later they’re still making the same stuff… But they didn’t grow up, they’re still seventeen on the inside, that’s why they end up dating sixteen year olds.

What are the consequences of becoming a productivity machine?

I don’t know how much people value being human beings these days. Seems that we spend most of our time trying to stop being human beings, whether that’s drowning out our consciousness with video games or drugs, which is just a flow-state that keeps us docile.

You shouldn’t have to post on these five social media platforms 10 times a day, that’s not a good thing, but that’s just the way it is. A lot of a lot of my artistic advice is about getting out of your own head and shaking hands with the way things are. We exist in this unique technological moment, where we need to figure out a lot of new wisdom on how to be artists again, because sending your voice-actor tape to the radio station isn’t going to work anymore.

(Greg points at the laptop)
”Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you machine.
Fuck you. Fuck you robot. Fucking fuck.”

Why do you hate robots so much?

The original CCRU, the late 90s techo philosophy group that inspired the name of my current studio, was founded by a guy called Nick Land. His ideology is that we should progress as quickly as possible towards the singularity, because he sees enlightenment on the other side. But his definition of enlightenment is not for humans. It’s for robots.

<p>“I don’t give a fuck about robots getting enlightened.”</p>

When you exist within an inefficient, fleshy body, there’s a gap between who you are, and what you want to create, it’s that artistic struggle of getting from A to B. When you ask ChatGPT to write you a poem, there’s no gap, because the gap is you. You are the inefficiencies, the inconveniences, you’re everything messy and wrong. And in this simple-minded pursuit of increasing efficiency, we are automating everything that’s human.

I think Nick Land, along with all these other types like Elon Musk, they’re all big nerds, and the should be shoved in a locker. I use technology all the time, but I’m complaining about it. There’s an inherent conflict in immersing yourself in what you ideologically stand against, and it makes me a chain rattler. I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t complaining about things, that’s my entire existence.

Why is it important for your art to interact with other people’s opinions?

The point of art is to communicate, relaying some emotion or idea to another human outside of yourself. Now that’s not to say you can’t make art for yourself, totally can, but what’s going on there is you’re communicating to yourself. If you read a poem and it’s just for you, that the purpose of that poem is you go back and you read it ten years later.

You can isolate yourself, tinker and question infinitely “will my work resonate with people?”, or “will they find this interesting?” and the only way you figure that out is letting others see your art. If a million people have seen your work, but nobody resonates with it, you’re doing something wrong.

After you found creative community at the CCCRU, did the nature of your art change?

My work has stayed pretty similar. But now there’s more collaboration, I’m including friends in my videos, and working with musicians in person. It’s helpful to see other artists go through their difficult creative journeys, and watch them come out of the other side.

I’m also just a happier person, but that doesn’t matter as much.

What’s next?

Don’t watch my videos, don’t listen to my new music album, don’t look up the Horseshoe Theory Podcast.

Go outside, sit in silence, and see how that feels. Probably uncomfortable. You should face your consciousness. That’s my call to action.

He was the Animation Director for the music video Tall Grass by Creed Bratton, who is most known for his hilariously weird role in The Office. The project is a collaboration with studio Open The Portal, and is a combination of live action and 3D animation, resulting in a psychedelic journey through the different worlds inside of Creed Bratton.

What was it like making a music video for such a well-known figure?

Many people were going to be see the video, and I felt the responsibility to make it look great. But despite the pressure, it was also incredibly exciting.

<p>“I got to create some weird sh*t. That’s what Creed is down for.”</p>

How much did you plan the music video before diving into production?

A lot, I would say. I received some initial guidance from Open The Portal, because they had already produced live-action footage that my animation sequences would have to integrate with. They already knew that the camera was going to fly into his mouth, and transition into a surreal 3D world.

They also wanted to incorporate Creed’s weird interests. For example, Creed wanted fish to be in the video. He also enjoys robotic stuff, and is fascinated by the singularity, specifically about tech and AI from a spiritual standpoint. I believe that was the ethos of his entire album.

Before we started, I had a rough animatic and a good idea of how the animation was going to play out.

What was it like being able to pick your own team of artists and collaborate with them?

We had 6 people working on the animation production. I got to bring in talented friends, and give them creative freedom, whilst helping them get paid for a widely seen project. It was also a great lesson in leading a team and ensuring the project felt cohesive.

How difficult was it to capture his essence in a 3D model?

It was tough because I’m still new to VR sculpting. Usually I model in Houdini, where it’s procedural, and an indirect process, unlike sculpting in VR, where it’s more created by hand. There’s also going back and forth on 10 reference pictures of Creed, trying to sculpt him, and feeling “This looks kinda like him. But also why does it look nothing like him?”

I was studying his face and asking myself: “where do I need to put wrinkles? Is he gonna be upset if I put wrinkles?” I bugged a lot of people for feedback, and they helped me point out what needed to added or be dialed in.

What is VR Sculpting?

VR sculpting is a technique where you create 3D models whilst using a virtual reality headset. It’s incredibly cool, because I’m essentially making something out of nothing. It’s similar to holding a virtual can of graffiti, but instead of paint, it’s spraying clay into 3D space.

In Adobe Medium (VR Sculpting Software), your head and the camera are the same inputs, so you can reach around the model, and manipulate it by extending your arm, or add details by bringing your eyes up close to the surface. It truly feels like you’re inside the three-dimensional space.

With VR sculpting, it’s really hard to get something perfect, but I like how that adds a layer of personality to it.

Were there any unexpected surprises during your creative process?

Initially, we had this idea of featuring Creed going through all the stages of his life. We produced an animation with the baby version of Creed, running through the meadow. However, when we’d show other people the edited cuts, nobody understood who the little kid was. We even tried putting adult Creed’s head on the baby’s body, but that looked even weirder, so we realized that we needed to get rid of that part altogether.

We replaced it with some establishing shots, which gave more time to show off the art. Turns out taking out complexity made the work shine.

Did you ever have a “this is either genius or a huge mistake” moment whilst making this?

I still feel imposter syndrome sometimes, and I can get stressed when I’m sending work in. There were many moments I’ve freaked out and asked myself: “Why did I ever think this is a good idea?”

My girlfriend, Anca, as well as my friends, would all reassure me that the project looked amazing. But there’s always this question at the back of my mind: “Is anyone gonna relate?”. But I believe that’s just anxiety about showing a big personal project to a large audience, and not knowing how they’ll react.

What’s a small detail in the video that you’re really proud of?

There’s a scene where the robot baby flies up and grabs the camera, doing a dramatic leaning back in anticipation, then shoving the camera into the distance. I’m really proud of this shot because it mainly consisted of meticulously placed keyframe animation. I had to slow down all the movement, and adjust each frame to ensure it looked like the robot was actually holding the camera. It was a ton of work, but it was also one of my favorite pieces of animation that I’ve ever done.

Why did you choose Houdini to animate your quirky and unconventional style?

I have a background in computer science, so when I dove into 3D, Houdini made the most sense to my mind because it was logic-based and artist friendly at the same time.

oudini opened the doors to me creating insane simulations and floppy procedural characters. It’s easy to add rotational noise to all parts of a rig, and have it feel like it’s breathing, making it easy to animate dynamically weird characters in that software

What’s the weirdest technical problem you ran into during the project, and how did you fix it?

I have a reusable rig tool that I’ve built, where I can attach a pre-built skeleton on a character, and start animating with it immediately. I used it for all the characters in the video. But for mysterious and horrible reasons, the leg puppeting system just wasn’t working. I’m positive that everything was set up correctly, including the twist joints, but as soon as I started moving the legs, the knees would point in the wrong direction.

My solution was to avoid animating the legs. Technically, I didn’t solve it at all, but I also didn’t have the time to. I had to ask myself, how can I animate this scene without using the legs? The answer was to make all the characters float/fly, without using any walking whatsoever. Sometimes I’d have the knees bend a little, but if I pushed it too hard, they would get f*cked up.

There was a scene where Creed was flying through a canal, and I wanted him to roll around in a dramatically cartoonish fashion. However, I couldn’t get it to work, so I just animated him f lying in a basic way. This problem forced me to simplify, which was a blessing in disguise. Being a perfectionist, I often spend too much time on details that don’t matter.

Looking back on the whole process, what’s the biggest lesson that you learned?

Just keep it simple. You can always add a little f lourish after you’ve gotten the main points across. Some shots are on screen for a second and a half, and a person would would have to watch the animation 30 times before they pick up on that small detail you spent hours on.

What’s next for you? Any exciting projects on the horizon?

I’m working full-time at FX on Alien Earth, focusing on rigging. For personal projects, I’m finishing a short film with Jared Corwin and Cartuna, as well as producing a new short for Hellavision with my girlfriend Anca and friend Kael. Definitely applying the lessons I’ve learned from the Tall Grass music video on these new projects.

What do you think is the future of creativity?

AI is changing the creative industry, raising questions about whether it will replace parts of the process or entire artistic roles. While it may make production more accessible and efficient, I worry it could diminish appreciation for handson creativity. Some artists love every step of the process, and automation risks taking that away. Despite job concerns, AI could also open new opportunities for independent creators. I just hope we don’t lose the beauty of the creative process.

The head of the studio is Dope Chief himself, a local indigenous artist who grew up in Hamilton. His work traverses many mediums, going between murals, sculpture, fashion, and taking heavy influences from 90s and early 2000s pop culture.

Dope signed the studio’s lease 10 days before the COVID 19 pandemic started. He caught a lucky break when the VP of Jackson Square saw a CBC Hamilton article about his previous studio being demolished, and invited him to rent a multi-room unit inside the mall. This space was unappealing to typical retailers because of it’s low-traffic location and the need for repair & maintenance — the unit had been vacant for at least five years. It would be a bad investment for any retailer but it was absolutely perfect for an artist like Dope Chief and his artist collective.

Malls are slowly losing customers to online retailers, which is especially difficult in Hamilton, a city which will always be overshadowed by Toronto, a nearby municipality with ~5.2× the population. Across the world there have been examples of malls changing their business models by turning empty storefronts into apartments units, or other unconventional spaces, which is a necessary approach when real-estate is such a finite resource. In this case, artists like Dope Chief receive the opportunity to create in a large space for considerably lower rent. For Jackson Square this brings a small gaggle of creators into the mall’s milieu, ever so slightly pushing it into the future and beyond the era of online shopping. To work in this studio, artists pay with their motivation. Every season begins with a “Studio Cycle”, and members must undergo an application process where they identify creative goals and current projects. Only serious applicants who have the intentions their grow artistic careers are chosen. There’s no monetary cost for members, because creativity is the currency. To attain privileges of consistent studio access and a personal workspace, artists need to show up, actively pursue their creative projects, and contribute to the artistic atmosphere.

All members share the same goal: find creative success and produce radically interesting artwork. Here, everyone is always collaborating, giving feedback, and treating their art projects like assignments. The studio even uses a point system to track the artist’s progress each season, to ensure the ecosystem is always prioritizing dedicated members.

<p>“I want to build Xavier’s school for the gifted, from X-Men.”</p>

Last year, the studio hosted its first exhibition: Future History Today. Over a period of 4 months, artists collaborated in transforming the space into an immersive wonderland.

Each member was given their own corner of the unit, and had full freedom to change the space, taking advantage of the “anything goes” atmosphere. This pilot project was a test to see what the artists were capable of, and it went beyond expectations.

Each station had a completely unique vision. Studio artist Baumchell built a mirrored altar where participants could gaze into their own reflection and use a magic pebble to make a wish. In another station, guests crawled through a doghouse sized entrance, which lead to James Favron’s secret clubhouse filled with Archie comics, a huge coloring book, and a retro Nintendo station. Anthony Giovannetti built an incredulously detailed miniature world inside a closet sized space. When artists have full creative control and a supportive community, they can create a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit.

Since the success of this pilot project, Dope Chief Studios has been planning their next show This year’s objective is to exhibit in a larger space, acquire public funding, and utilize their creative team to blow past their initial experiment and create an expanded art experience.

Community is a huge inspiration to Dope Chief’s creative practice because it offers a unique blend of resources and safety to develop unconventional ideas. Dope believes that informed feedback is underrated, offering the example of how an artist might not share their ideas with a friend or family member because the person lacks context and might not have the experience to understand what feedback the artist actually needs.

Dope reflects on Hamilton’s atmosphere, where the underbelly of society is impossible to ignore. Everyday, the artists witnesses addiction from people that have been abandoned by a broken system, something especially visible in the studio’s mall, which sits across the street from a Salvation Army shelter.

“You’ll get everything in the mall. You’ll get people doing meth in the mall. You’ll get people fighting. You’ll get people sleeping or just getting wasted.”

Dope explains that artists move into areas where rent is cheap because they are similarly undervalued by society. Hamilton’s unhoused population doesn’t drive investment, but when the economics of supply and demand create a hole in the market, it can become an opportunity for artists who can manage to coexist alongside those that upper class folk might find unseemly.

Art can be a brief escape from this bleak reality and potentially inspire a more hopeful future. Also located within the mall is the Hamilton Public Library’s Central Branch which includes a maker space with 3D printers, an embroidery machine, iMacs, and large format printers. Despite all odds, collectives such as Dope Chief Studios can find resources, and create these immersive exhibitions for locals to enjoy, perhaps even challenging them to imagine what the world would look like if human creativity was a priority. This is how ‘normal people’ are converted into artists. This is how we support radical change.

She inserted her condo keys precisely, as to not waste a second outside her personal space. After two tries, she was in.

Bag on the floor, jacket poured onto the dining chair, and socks removed only using her toes, she sank into a couch overdue for replacement. Sandra stared at the ceiling until her neck shifted towards the humming fridge sitting across her ‘open concept’ condo. She needed to eat.

Pants off, just undies and her bedroom shirt on, she slowly sauntered up to the refrigerator. The handle felt cold to the touch. Sleek. Smooth. The silver brush strokes. How does it do that?

Sandra rested her thigh against the fridge’s heavy body. She traced her finger between the rubber seal, dark red nails slipping inside it’s folds.

With a gentle opening of the fridge door, the air hit her with a chilling love slap. Her skin tickled with goosebumps, and she faced up in bliss. Not even hunger could stop Sandra from enjoying this moment.

<p>The holistic white light reminded her of safe memories.</p>

She noticed how pleasing it felt to rub her body against the beveled corners. For a moment, Sandra looked around to check if anyone was watching — she lived alone. Turning back, she pressed her lips against the fridge’s vibrating surface and groaned with pleasure.

Her light pink “Wednesday” underwear exposed a fresh wet stain. It was actually Friday.

Sandra grinded on the refrigerator, hand sloshing inside a bowl of leftover spaghetti. The appliance rattled against the cabinets, shaking the entire kitchen with passionate jostling, causing cereal boxes and empty water bottles to rain from above. It’s surprising, how sturdy the fridge felt to hold her.

Her left hand index finger rubbed the underneath lip of the frosted plastic. Sandra pressed her face against the door, which was ribbed with an abundance of artisan magnets. She lets out a primal cry. Relaxing warmth releases.

Deep breath out.

She grabbed the mayo and black forest ham and made herself a sandwich.

Through drawing, I re-discover my sense of control because I have the power to meticulously select my colors, and choose the saturation and technique behind every stroke, and accumulate everything into an intricately crafted image.

From start to finish, this drawing is my creation, and mine alone. There are no unexpected surprises, everything is drawn with intention. Not a stroke out of line, not a single petal too big or small, and not a speck of pigment outside its intended bounds. Everything exists as it should, in my little world of a lettersized page.

One might ask, how does my interpretation of this lotus flower differ from any other artist’s take on the same subject?

Even with a hundred different artists drawing the exact same image, they never recreate it the same way. They capture it. They represent it. I can see the details of every single stroke in a drawing that makes it unique to its creator. Parallel to the concept that no two snowflakes are exactly alike, each drawing carries a unique and controlled expression of our souls onto an impressionable blank page.

<p>“The night was cybernetic because time accelerates into the future. The world was poetic because poetry is magic.”</p>

Participants prepared by creating aluminum headgear, to protect their minds from nonsense. Through mindful facilitation, they emptied their brains of BLAH B L A H , produced their own word collection, engaged in the ancient art of ‘snap-chi’, and developed poetry. Participants reported feeling a sense of community, invigorated creativity, and a mind-bending snap back into reality.

The CCCRU studio was elastic with magical properties that night. Everyone left with more questions than answers.

Poetry’s arch-nemesis: BLAH B L A H

Scientists call it quantum physics, conspirators call it 5g, the normies know it as vibes. BLAH BLAH BLAH B L A H   B L A H   B L A H dominates the world, and we are addicted to it.

Our heads are filled with BLAH BLAH BLAH B L A H   B L A H   B L A H . Is it a coincidence that a baby’s first babbles evoke a semblance to BLAH BLAH BLAH B L A H   B L A H   B L A H ?

I think not.

When we speak, BLAH BLAH BLAH B L A H   B L A H   B L A H naturally pours out of our mouths, like flowing water.

The moment we close our mouths, the BLAH B L A H sucks right back into our heads, through the holes of our ears.

BLAH BLAH BLAH B L A H   B L A H   B L A H is the egoic curtain that blocks our magical ability to sense the truth of reality. And when we cannot see the truth of reality, we cannot find the knowledge we need to create magic. This is the enemy of poetry.

How to protect yourself from BLAH B L A H

The smart approach is to create protective head-gear. Aluminum, mixed with creativity, enveloped around the cranium, is the ancient methodology of protecting your brain from re-ingesting BLAH B L A H .

Once the BLAH B L A H absorption process is blocked, the head will slowly release the toxins through the digestive system. Eventually, the mind will be cleared of BLAH B L A H .

Finally, we have space.

The emptiness of the mind invites the appearance of magical thought. This is the headspace required to write poetry.

Bonus method: Snap-Chi

This is a martial art invented by Evgo Stillwell, entirely based on the act of snapping. Inspired by the cultural behavior of snapping instead of clapping at poetry open mics, she guided participants through integrated breathing and snapping movements. Her theory is that engaging in creative and unfamiliar motions transitions our minds out of their default states and into creative awareness.

Cybernetics & hyperstition

To understand cybernetics, one must first have to sit with a concept called hyperstition: the theory of fictions that make themselves real. This is a direct challenge to the assumption that there is a stable boundary between what is true and what is imagined.

Inspired by theory-fiction technology that was perfected by the original CCRU, workshop participants were challenged to engage with their own futures. Subjects wrote their own self-fullfilling prophecies, and shared glimpses into the vulnerable dreams that they wished to manifest.

What the participants didn’t realize is that their poems were merely cybernetic machines. Hyperstition is completely impersonal, it treats all ideas as innevitabilities that compete for territory over the truth. These poems inhabited the subjects like vessels, manipulating the conditions of reality to orchestrate their own production.

The open-mic was the grand-finale of the workshop. Participants volunteered to share their work, using the in-person collective as a channel for positive feedback.

Cybernetic poetry written by participants

A turtle once told me

By The Dope Chief

It is unlike trees that I am.
To grow up tall, straight up and then bend.
To stay in one place and face harsh conditions.
To grow in only one environment with narrow vision.

It is very much like trees that I am not.
To dream of being tall but not move from one spot.
To reach for the sky with only one perspective.
To have fear of change but also expect it.

It is very much like a tree I cannot be.
To wonder if I fall would others see?
Would they know that
I’m drowning in a whole wood sea?

Like a tree? could not be me.
I need to move even when slowly.
Even if days pass and I’ve only moved one step.
Even if I take naps and the path I forget.

I cannot be like tall trees.
To see my dreams fall to the earth like dead leaves
To wonder why the birds flee,
when snow blows and rivers freeze.

I want to see the glow of different night skies,
I’m much more like the stars that fly!
To be a pine, would not be fine,
Hell is the thought of being still for all-of-time.

Why stand tall and not move at all?
Why grow roots so you never fall?
I cannot stop I’d rather crawl!
That’s called growth, that’s what its called.

To be an oak? What a joke!
The turtle chuckled when he spoke.
and as I stood in place and awe
I will not soon forget what I saw.

A turtle who would go so far.
who was unlike a tree but more like a shooting star.

Men (excerpt)

By Theresa Hopkins

What I love about men
is their huge hands.

What I hate about men
is everything else.

Originality

By Alannah Astorquiza

Originality is hard.
Originality is hard.
Was told at a young age
that I’d be great.
But now I guess it’s too fcking late.
We are spin-offs of influence
so don’t take offense,
remember that originality is hard.
Don’t be sad,
don’t you cry.
In the end,
we will all fcking die.
Accept your attempt, to not is to fail
We are all just stories,
our own little tales.

The sweetest pie

By Corlil

no big emotions
no enemies
yet not one real friend
always pleasing
always smiling on
knows everybody
known by no one
fits all the molds
the people pleaser