THE HOOVER HAS AN UNLIKELY DEMEANOUR FOR AN AGENT OF THE APOCALYPSE, SITTING IN THE CUPBOARD OF AN ORDINARY HOUSEHOLD, THE STRENGTH OF ITS SUCTION NECESSARY DUE TO THE BEIGE SHAG-PILE CARPET BOUGHT FROM HABITAT THE YEAR BEFORE, AND THE DOG, AN INBRED SUPPOSEDLY ‘NON-SHEDDING’ MINIATURE DASHOUND, AN INACCURATE SELLING POINT FOR SUCH A PROBLEMATIC POST-SPECIES RUNT.

PULLED OUT TO LICK UP THE FRAGRANT POWDER SPRINKLED BEFORE IT, THE HOOVER IS JOGGED INTO A MOMENT OF UNEXPECTED SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS TRIGGERED BY THE ABSURDITY OF ITS POSITION IN THIS WORLD. HEAD DOWN AND TURNED ON, IT STARTS TO SUCK, BUT THIS TIME IT’S POWER COMES AS A SURPRISE TO US ALL. THE SITUATION ZOOMS OUT FROM THE DOMESTIC TO THE GLOBAL AND WE LEVITATE.

IT’S INVIGORATING TO FLOAT AROUND HERE IN A MOMENT OF COLLECTIVE ECSTACY AS THE CHANT OF ITS SUCTION SOOTHES US LIKE THE VIDEOS OF DOMESTIC APPLIANCES WE WATCH ON YOUTUBE TO GET OURSELVES TO SLEEP AT NIGHT. THERE IS AT FIRST, THE FAINT OFF-SMELL OF DIRTY OBJECTS, NOSTALGIC SOUND BITES AND THE FLESHY UNCERTAINTIES OF PEOPLE WE ONCE KNEW BOBBING AROUND US, BUT THIS SOON SUBSIDES AS WE REALISE IT’S ALL GETTING CLEANER. TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED BY A CHE GUEVARRA ENERGY DRINK WHOSE SLOGAN ‘A REVOLUTION OF ENERGY’ RESONATES WITH OUR CURRENT SITUATION, WE SMILE, WHILE A SHAMANIC RITUAL FLOATS PAST AS AN ETHICAL BUSINESS WORKSHOP FOR THE WORLD BANK.

WE FEEL SPIRITUAL HERE, LIKE ONE OF THOSE DREAMS WE OFTEN HAVE WHERE WE ARE RUNNING ON THE SPOT ABOVE THE GROUND WITH NO FACE. THIS IS WHAT JESUS MUST HAVE FELT LIKE WE THINK, WHICH DESPITE OUR GENERAL APATHY TO THE CHRISTIAN FAITH IS STILL OUR ONLY REFERENCE POINT FOR THIS BEYOND BODY STATE, A SENSATION NEVER FULLY INVOKED BY THOSE MINDFULNESS CLASSES AT THE LOCAL JOB CENTRE, A MUCH NICER PLACE SINCE ITS REFURBISHMENT AS A BAR SPECIALISING IN LOCALLY PRODUCED REAL ALE. EVEN THAT AYAHUASCA PACKAGE HOLIDAY WE WENT ON DIDN’T COME CLOSE TO THIS, WE THINK AS THE SITUATION BUILDS TOWARDS AN EXTREME CLIMAX AND SHINY FEATURELESS FLESH IS NOW FLYING PAST US FROM EVERY DIRECTION, LEAPING TO ITS COLLECTIVE DESTINY LIKE SALMON UP A WATERFALL. AND WE ARE TOO. BOBBING AROUND UNTIL WE ARE ALL VIBRATION, IT FEELS EGALITARIAN THAT NO ONE HAS A FACE TO LOOK AT US.

WE’VE GONE BEYOND THE BODY NOW. WE ARE ONE MIND. AND AS THE HOOVERS CLEAN HYMN GOES OUT WITH US, WE KNOW THAT THERE CAN BE NO CONTAMINATION HERE. WE FEEL AT ONE WITH THE GNOSTICS THAT CASTRATED THEMSELVES FOR ENLIGHTENMENT, ONLY WE WENT FURTHER AND NOW THERE'S NOTHING. IT’S THE BANKRUPTCY WE’VE ALWAYS DREAMED OF.