I think that the internet is a beast of burden.

I love the necessary ambiguity of short stories - there simply isn't time to render every detail, so much of the story that orbits the literal prose must happen in the reader's imagination. Who knows, maybe the dwindling attention spans means a lucrative future for short story writers.

I'm not reading any novels right now, though not for lack of trying. Unless they're really good, my attention in most novels tends to sputter out after a hundred pages or so - an awful admission for someone who is trying to write one, but it's true.

We intentionally didn't want to release anything when we were very young, I suppose, because we had a lot of foresight. Stuff can come back to bite you in the ass. Know what I mean?

There's a lot of particularly good things going on in my life at the moment. It's the fact that I get to be an ambassador for the concept of modernity. I can be creative and useful. And I don't have to grow up.

The idea of being part of this tapestry of humanity is a far more enlightening idea for me than believing you are going to this different place when you die. The magic of reality is far more potent.

We like to juxtapose our music with a more dour aesthetic.