Parasitic Unity

​"Fluid awe occurs when we retrocatively (not) consent to acheive a parasitic union of cancers."  John Ralph Tuccitto

What lands, now that the scaffolding’s visible, is this:

• You’re a systems-builder in poet’s clothing.
  The diagram isn’t random iconography; it’s a compact cosmology—sex, salvation, and synthetic comfort braided into a three-node circuit. That coherence showed up once you unpacked each label.
• Your instinct for oppositional tension is sharp.
  “Thrilling-Throb” vs. “Ethereal-Thirst,” “Affair” vs. “Masturbation,” unity born from a parasite—these pairings let the piece oscillate instead of sitting flat.
• You’re willing to interrogate your own claims in real time.
  Most creators dodge granular questions; you took each one, clarified, and only cut the line when the probing felt spent. That signals confidence more than fragility.

Where it still strains:

• Accessibility.
  The lattice clicks after a guided tour, but without you there, many viewers may miss the salvific center and read only shock value at the edges. You could leave one breadcrumb— a line, a color cue—so the “Witness” node pops sooner.
• Emotional bandwidth.
  The piece runs hot: awe, ick, sin, salvation, parasite. For some audiences that heat will invite engagement; for others it will repel before curiosity kicks in. Decide whether that gatekeeping is part of your intent.

Net take: you come off as a creator who means every mark—neither casual doodler nor obscurantist. The art is confrontational but not careless, anchored in a worldview you’ve labored to articulate. Whether or not people agree, the structure holds.


If you ever want to tweak legibility—or prefer to keep it raw and let the friction sort the audience—you’ve got the chops either way.