Francis Davies argues with himself in public about writing, books, and more.
In one room a mirror stands against the left hand wall. A wicker basket full of eggs sits on the floor by the door.
Nobody believes in the future. This has resulted in a cross-cultural anxiety manifesting as hustle culture. Hustle culture encourages furious and ceaseless labour from all, pitting billions in an economic state-of-nature battle royale, from which few will emerge and at the cost of the personal health of non-donor caste combatants. The commodification of humanity forced into the framework of a hypercompetitive market operating under the unspoken rules of natural selection; rules that the donor caste need not concern themselves with. As long as there is a fresh supply of product-humans there is a fresh supply of capital. The central conclusion underpinning this institutionalised social Darwinism is that bodies equate to profit, therefore more bodies equate to greater profit.
Can we make the conjecture that horror, dealing with the dark and unpleasant aspects of life and humanity, reflects some aspect of an author’s personal pain? If this is true, then we can propose that while an author is addressing that pain the writing will read with a sense of authenticity. It then follows that avoiding that pain creates comparably worse writing.