In Monstrous Ephemeral, an insurrectionary spiral of lateral violence and cosmic play fighting ensues. We scream our lungs blistered to hurt gospel tunes. Spectral figures make a stand in a broken game and comrades sing with forked tongues. ‘The pathway forward demands being brave’ (Poelina). And we are not, but we sing nonetheless. Sonic poetry and psychosocial babble, commentary and visionary. Newspaper in the rubble. Tunes so empty, the end heralds all that has come and gone, and come again? <| <| <| We push back where countless others have pushed and been pushed before us, against the despair and dislocation of this bleak civilisational situation. Exorcising our fear through collaborative creation, we join a timeless choir of the disempowered and disillusioned. These solidaristic movements transgress narrative certainty. Cautionary tales, hubristic bēot, and romantic parodies become existential playthings of healing, harm, and, maybe, game changers—if only for Us, that is not I, but who are We?