Visit Political City; meet fellows like The Orange Orangutan and Frank “Sluggerhand”; see the Eiffel Tower of the jungle; travel in a stream of signs; and other soon to be favourite activities you gain access to through our treasure trove of albums
Welcome. Nice to see you have found your way here. This is a truth called nothing. A few words about what that is.
You can think of a truth called nothing as an independent rock band. Terms like art rock, post-modern stadium rock, alternative rock, or experimental electro prog may be useful. Actually, we are more of a production duo than a band. We play live sometimes, but we usually just share our work through the great collective subconscious. That’s our focus.
Another useful point is that we are like one of those mythic bands that you wish existed, or perhaps like a band in a work of fiction. Like when you read a story and characters talk about this great rock band, that could very well be us. We are quite undiscovered and secret, so you could plausibly have us all to yourself. We could be ”your thing”.
We have new music in the pipeline for release soon. It is part 3 in our EP project. So we’re also relaunching this website. We used to update every week. We probably won’t anymore, but we’ll put things up occasionally. Our influences and interests are varied, so this was always meant to sprawl out in various directions. Lots of the material is about our music, but there are plenty of other things as well. Profoundest philosophy, entertainingest stories, controversialest politics, side-splittingest jokes and whatnot. You can find some categories in the menu above. Try to work it out according to your own comfort level.
That’s pretty much what it is, to sum it up. Find the music at Bandcamp, Spotify and other places. And take a look at the stuff here.
Int: The Intensifying Heart Club, at a table in the VIP section
DADDY, ANGÉL GABRIÉL and SALINA are seated at the table, eating luxurious jumbo shrimps and lobsters.
Well, then. Shall we just wait for FRANK before we order dessert?
Sir… I’ve been wanting to say something for a while. Why… Why aren’t we trying to reaquire our pristine baybee? Isn’t that important at all to FRANK? I don’t know why I should have to lend him my body all the time. I know we messed up, but that isn’t the baybee’s fault. I kind of miss it…
Sweet heart, what did we say about questioning FRANK?
Good evening, learners! This time, we will be taking a look at the very beginning of “Intensifying Hearts & Dreams” – the first memo where mr. Dalgren of the BOF made the proposal to go ahead with the series! Mr. D’Annunzio’s original synopsis is enclosed, and by comparing it to the final form of the story, you will be able to ascertain for yourselves how worrisome and wrong things can become if you let thoughts and ideas roam about unsupervised.
The Department of Godliness and Order in Media
Int: Doomtown Luxury Towers, NICKY’s apartment
NICKY is pacing around the luxurious rooms, getting ready for a productive day of thoroughly nasty scheming. The kidnapped baybee lies on its back, being changed, powdered and having make-up applied by an advanced NannyBot™.
Sweet baybee… Today will be the beginning of the end for your father’s employer. My ambitions are reaching their boiling point. My final victory is nearing.
Int: The Futureshop, surreal chamber
In the depths of The Futureshop, we find ourselves in a dark chamber full of frayed electrical wires that glitter, self-playing pianos that stutter, dark statues of unknown animals that could be confused for horses or squids, shelves with piles of burning reading glasses, and similar obscure memorabilia from another world. We find DUKE sitting on his thone-like chair/chair-like throne (think of the one from Game of Thrones, but with wood and electronica rather than swords). He is speaking to a SLAVE chained to the floor. The SLAVE is facing away from DUKE.
See all this, SLAVE. See this town into which we have dug from unknowable tunnels. They know us not but we are here all the same.
Ext: hill at the edge of Doomtown
Sunset. Two MYSTERY MASKS are sitting next to each other, looking serenely at the town during a break in their duties.
MYSTERY MASK NO. 28B
Man oh man… It’s getting crazier and crazier up in here. As if the whole mess surrounding FRANK‘s funeral wasn’t enough, with the drunken fist fight that erupted at the reception between THE MAYOR and ANGÉL GABRIÉL… Now we got ghost trees and weird-ass pianos popping into existence all over the place?
Dearest readers, journalists, and fans! For today’s chapter we present an exclusive look at ”Frank’s Funeral Program”. This limited edition, true-to-life piece of memorabilia was produced during season 17 of the show, and distributed to lucky viewers exclusively at telenovela conventions, actor appearances and signings, and other similar events. Enjoy!
Signed, Johannes Dalgren /creative director, the BOF
Int: Location unknown, Pastor Jing’s auditing chamber
MARCIA is sitting despondently on the edge of a divan. Long time no see, MARCIA! She seems as scattered as ever, and is nervously looking around the small room, waiting for someone. There is a chair for a practitioner to sit in as well as a small table with a glass of water and an e-meter. MARCIA jumps, startled, when PASTOR JING suddenly enters. The PASTOR strides purposefully over to his chair, all the while scanning a folder held in his hand. He addresses his patient nonchalantly, without meeting her pleading gaze.
Right, MARCIA WILKINSON. You are troubled by memories of trauma sustained at the Gastronomy Institute and have been under the wicked influence of psychiatry. Is that correct?
Int: The Gastronomy Institute, café
MADAME MORGANNA is sitting by herself at a table for two. The Institute’s lobby is mostly abandoned and she is alone in the café but for one of her tame peacocks, curled up by her feet.
Enemy territory once more after all these years… Who would have thought it possible?
Int: the Intensifying Heart Club, wine lounge
DADDY, DR. ADAMSON and POLLYANNA are seated at a small table, sipping from glasses of expensive red wine. The table is covered by pieces of money and scattered paperwork.
So let’s run through this one more time. The Club is losing business, we’ve lost what little influence we had at the Committee, and now you’ve recieved an e-mail from FRANK. Is that the gist of it?