The Great American Hypnagogia began in October 2001, when the towers fell and malaise overtook the meandering optimism of 1991-2001. Murmurring, gentle and decaying Christmas lights thrown across the stems of lost dreams, the death of the American Dream was a sacrifice of Immense Sacred Significance.Through it, America became less of a nation and more a realm of dreamlike innocence and constant psychotic meandering through previous periods, almost recycling itself in the panic of loss, looking to find a working backup to no avail. Through its hypnagogic semi-conscious meanderings, it finds no solace or solution; instead, it finds comfort. Comfort in the world of dreams, stuckist.

IN MANY WAYS, THE WORLD DID END IN 2012.

But that's okay! The world now is long dead, but we are comfortable. We are no longer looking for new things; instead, we want reiterations, reinventions, the same things but novel again. We want 2025, 2026, 2027, 2028, 2029, 2030... to all feel roughly the same. And thank God for that! Imagine the horror if your favorite things became passé and now you have to play along to the social ills of our time? No. We live in an era of eternal stasis, consumption of everything in new exciting ways, but still the same base things. And I could not be happier.