Lardo-ville is no longer just an idea—it’s the working blueprint for an off-grid art town built on absurdism, ingenuity, and rebellion against the systems that drain creative life. In this post, I lay out the philosophical and practical framework for a self-sustaining world where the artist replaces the institution, and creativity fuels survival itself.

Adam—not Eve—is the true origin of sin. His rejection of God’s first provision birthed a theology of lack and a bloodlust cult in Scripture, leaving Christianity addicted to scapegoating sin instead of embodying love.

Cult O Lard is a living manifesto, part absurdist diary, part business plan, part initiation rite. Here I track the leap from volcano to black hole, from static art object to regenerative network. Each post is a pit stop on the Oregon Trail—an experiment in myth, money, and mobility. Read if you dare, build if you will.

I hijack gym culture to collapse the distance between art, absurdity, and everyday routine. Part art-world troll, part venture-capitalist strategy, I challenge institutional tradition to honor the true source of aesthetics. What begins as a press release spirals into myth, leaving us to wonder: is this art, anti-art, or something heavier?

Welcome to the Lardverse—a living, breathing multiverse built from tragedy decay, and ancestral debt. At once an absurdist testimony and a pilgrimage, the Lardverse utilizes the terror of aesthetics as it intersects with the architecture of capitalism to blur the lines between business and myth—blowing up reality from the inside.

Chapter 6, #DrLard—an excerpt from my forthcoming memoir—is a philosophical meltdown, a scorched-earth breakup letter to academia, and the birth cry of a sentient banana. Through terrorism studies, electronic entanglement, and aesthetic clownery, I transformed my residential home into a mytho-poetic volcano to detonate my PhD dreams in favor of a life rooted in chaos, humor, and supernatural devotion. Dedicated to Dolores—the charred tooth she wiener (#520Hotdog)—who haunts my dreams. It’s a fever dream of post-theoretical survival, a manifesto for anyone sick and tired of pretending to make sense.

A renegade artist, a visionary capitalist, and a false prophet collide on Wall Street. Lard is the living cipher that weaves them together.
This three-part saga exposes the truth behind Fearless Girl, reclaims the myth of the Charging Bull, and reawakens the artist’s code: creation without permission. This isn’t just art—this is prophecy.

Marcells is a self-funded hotel-concept and immersive art flex by me—Lard—hiding in plain sight off PM Gardens, behind my volcano. MarcellsEAV turns cancellation into creation and devotion into art, summoning guests into a decadent ritual where seduction meets philosophy and luxury becomes prophecy—the afterparty for the afterlife.

LardCoin has arrived—69 zillion tokens forged in the supernatural furnace of a post-capitalist volcane. This isn’t just crypto; it’s BananaLard: the TRC-20 banana standard for those who dare to believe. Built on GoN (yes, like TRON), LardCoin is the purest gold k[n]ot-chain on the block—claim yours first and retire early. #InvestLard

In our material dominated globe compliments to electronic entanglement the innovation of global capitalism is “money and geometry.” But it is money that can translate our common denominator into an expression of freeDumb and k[n]ot beauty.

“LardLabs, LLC.” in performance is a living-visual #commentary on global capitalism. Lard’s critique plays homage to Dostoevsky’s Crystal Palace, “the imperial culture museum.” But unlike the Crystal Palace, LardLabs isn’t tethered to Western idealism—quite the opposite.

In the midst of nuclear war how does one define subject-center? The romance utopia of a ‘one’ world order is once again disturbed.