Demon Drawings

Schism Neuronics exudes RC Miller’s demons.

RC Miller does not see dead people. These ahuman images that make up his demonology are not deceased spirits that can be channeled, summoned, worshiped, or exorcized. But they can be seen. If you utilize an aged groaning photocopier as a sort of crystal ball, and happen to know the proper state to work yourself beyond when pressing your eyes against the glass to let the blinding light burn away your outer vision, you might gain access to similarly dark, smeared stages of descent, but do you dare? This is a visual Inferno, sans Virgil, sans song, sans stanza-spirals neatly drawn with any known moral compass. These are demons, as purely as they can be perceived, in all their horror, humor, wonder, and mystery; the Hell they inhabit is not a place, but a process. Part the covers of this book onto these pages, and press your eyes close to all the black boiling up through waiting white. Take up this book, fellow human, and see.

– Zack Wentz, New Dead Families

In RC Miller's Demon Drawings, the distorted bulk of a demonic dish cloth rattles detachably in the craw of a cartoonish, beaked demon. They tunnel through each others' nodes like an astronaut entering the blackness of a mirror guided by the beacon of a black dick in a clammy land ruled by lop-sided dairy demons, bearers of dateless damned data, dammit demons descrambling dental floss in the split-fingered demonic detritus of determinism dethroned and detoxed by demons devoted to a distant dim dilapidated diaphragm digested by a dingbat demon, diphtheria demons giving and given a dirty look, Hell's doorbell ringing like disabled DNA through a dog leg demon in rut with the sustain of demon dope and the duration of the landscape of Miller's genius's five elemental fluids: forest sores and future shadows recrudescing in the form of the Goitre of humanity's T Rex helmet in lost grace, reduced to a comic mound in the hands of the Knifeman and restarted as pantyhose shrouding a witch’s pointy lake with the shrubbery of a stickman's yearning.

– Tyson Bley, author of Drive-Thru Zoo and Vital Signs

These warped drawings and their titles suggest portraits of extradimensional beings. Miller's drawing style combines marker pen humanoids, noisy scribbles, scanner glitchery and digital collage to grotesque effect, evoking the skewed perception of dimensionality caused by psychedelic chemicals. With titles such as Data Demon, Dish Cloth Demon and DNA Demon, some of these might be guardian spirits of particular objects or phenomena. Austin Osman Spare's mediumistic drawings could be seen as ancestors to these. Despite the book's title, there's a cynical spirituality to be found here.

– Tim Gaze, author of noology and 100 Scenes, publisher of asemic magazine

This book is an education in demonology, it will take you into the twisted inventive mind and product of RC Miller. Demons, what do we know of them, are they from maladjusted thoughts, or are they physical neighbors ruling over the ecstasy and suffering of mortals? In this collection one can visit many types of demons: demons of freedom, medical demons, zoomorphic demons, thick pasty demons, demons of madness, and hunger demons who are ready to possess and devour the viewer’s soul. These are not your typical demons, they call out in a time ravaged mutant wail, asking the viewer to laugh with them in the abyss. This book will haunt the reader, in a good way!

– Michael Jacobson, author of The Giant’s Fence