What is Puscifer?
What is Puscifer? (Besides being the International Multi-Media Project I've been developing since 1995?) Good question. We usually respond with the very dismissive and obviously evasive answer: "What is Puscifer is what Puscifer is." A less evasive version of the answer is that it is an "uncertain creative space where almost anything goes." In keeping with that moving target sensibility, I will attempt to go the long way around with yet another one of many possible elusive answers. 
Stow away all your baggage and get cozy. Your in flight cocktail for this Air Bus cruise will include ingredients such as sarcasm, grossly unsubstantiated conclusions, assumed facts not in evidence, smoke, mirrors, and a dash of improvisational hogwash. Seat belts on. Electronics off.
See also: Maynard James Keenan: Rochambeau Myself
See also: Maynard James Keenan: These Are The "End of Days"
See also: Maynard James Keenan: Up on the Sun's New Columnist
See also: Maynard James Keenan (Puscifer, Tool, A Perfect Circle) on The Importance of Keeping It Local
A quick note before we go wheels up. If you happen to be one of the .001% of the worlds traveling humans that was able to arrive at an airport with a valid plane ticket in your name with proper id and all that, but you don't know how to use a seat belt, do us all a favor. Go back thru the security check point. Place all of your reproductive organs on the screening tray in a manner that will compel the extremely alert, understanding, hospitable TSA agents to run them through the X-Ray several times to get a better look. Once they've finished finger banging your personal effects, collect them all up. Go find your gate, and then go ahead & take a seat on the actual wing. Great views. Plenty of leg room.
So begins your in flight entertainment. At some point in human history we became aware of our own mortality. When confronted with the death of a companion, we had the epiphany that this was simply no longer just a pile of inanimate meat and bone. This was our companion and whatever energy made them who they were is no longer present. And then reality sinks in: Someday I will no longer be here. And for the first time we asked the question. Why? Why are they no longer here? What can I do to prevent that from happening to me? Or at the very least, "what can I do to put off the inevitable?"
We were now aware that our very survival was directly connected to and contingent upon how creative we could be. Our instincts to Fight or Run were not enough. We weren't as fast or strong as our larger and ferocious opponents. Instead, we needed to use every fiber of our imagination, every spark of our creative energy to stay ahead of these daily threats on our lives. Otherwise the ever-present realty was this. Today could very well be our last.
Peanuts? Peanuts? Peanuts? Peanuts? Would you like a beverage?































