There is a tile. Its sides are presence, absence, information, disinformation, pleasure, and voice. It is the telephone. Matt Rotando and Ben Cramer have been squatting on this tessellation for about a decade, maybe more, and now would like to share with you some of their favorite transmissions. Matt Rotando will warm you up with some little stories about animals and thought. Then Ben Cramer will slide in and gift you with a gratuitous cannonade of telephonic prosoetry. The whole experience could have vainglorious implications for your pre-holiday weekend, throwing everything into a glittery new light. Come squat with us. 

 About the Artists:

Like a lot of prodigies, Matt Rotando grew up in a cave. At the early age of age 11, he was the first person to have the Internet. Also at that age, Rotando charted his course in life. "It's too fixed, Matthew!," his kind mother said while fixing potatoes. "Why don't you just set a few goals and let your life unfold?"

No. No time for that. 11 year-old Rotando charted this for his remaining days: Invert the Wit of The Staircase by 12. Upend "Rube-Goldberg Thinking" by 15 and do so by actually building a single-move (boot-head-[dead]) Rube-Goldberg machine. Talk the world out of photography, also by 15. Rewrite all of Hemingway's major works into just one book by layering every sentence as if the books were a deck of cards being shuffled such that the opening sentence of "Old Man And the Sea" is followed directly by the first sentence of "Farewell to Arms" and so on. (He understood that the end of his new compendium-novel would read exactly like the end of "For Whom The Bell Tolls," that being the longest one, and this was his artistic intention). By 18 he had long since finished high school and completed a 4-year university degree in Darkness. But he lived on, past age 18 where his youthful goals stopped. He lives still. And so his kind mother proves wise. Rotando unfolds now chaotically, this way: Talking to squirrels; taking a chance to be a part of it; replacing all steel with glass; challenging Christians to explain Elvis; and "Fleabaggin'."

Ben Cramer is almost feral. He wears the names of many men. And truly, the many are many. As Survival Johnny, he sleeps in the deep snow of Vermont, squeezing down the difference between collard greens, sign, and signified. As Pork Ear, he looks out over Harlem with a wistful gaze, perturbed by the legal power of the EasyPass. As Ted, he is Marfan John, long-armed and ready to tell police to “have a very funny day.” As Fred, he is an author of Cuban baseball literature. As The Mecklenburg Grappler, he wrassled his way through Raleigh, North Carolina’s underground Strongman circuit, becoming known, alternately, as The Scourge of the Piedmont, and Crazy Johnny Clever Claws. As Fleener Love, undergraduate double major of English and History, he predicted the year 2013. As Juan MuchosJuanes, he is more Juans than are riding the Subway right now. And he rides the Subway, oh HOW he rides it. In his headphones he always hears New York, and sometimes America. You cannot be his enemy: you are always his friend.