Benoit Baald is one of a rarefied and dying breed: a true renaissance freak. Philosopher, tweak, audiophile, glassblower, minister of culture, mechanic, speed freak, seer, sucker, lover and fighter, Baald lives in a barn in Oakland, California with a ton of mysterious stainless steel apparati both functional and excruciating. His words require a strong digestive system, a keen eye for subterfuge, and a willingness to surrender oneself to the truth bubbling away between the fractally indefinable borders between the layers of the primitive lizard brain and the modern silicone dendrites that sizzle away pleasantly within all of us.
These are his words. Read them well.