A secret hides within our society, within our bodies, our cells, our very DNA. At times, this secret reveals itself -- the past, ancient times, prehistory -- and those are days of hunger and terror. The human race trembles, then, its eyes ripped open, revealing humanity’s true place in the Universe. There are whispers of those times, stories told by descendants of the survivors, but they’re only fragments of the truth -- only what we can hear without going mad out of self-preservation. We cannot handle the naked truth. Our claims to maturity, civility, and evolution ring for what they are in the face of the truth. With our machines and medicine and psychology, we think we’ve mastered the terrified monkey within, but when that thin shell of self-deceit tears away, when we face the truth, it shatters our mind. It always has. It always will.
Welcome to Flesh of my Flesh, the second feature from the Portland filmmaking group Guerrilla Productions. Flesh of my Flesh chronicles mankind’s final hours in the last great war for existence. An embedded research team reveals themselves to rescue their own beleaguered rescue party. This triggers a snowball of betrayal, jealousy, love, and redemption, punctuated by bullets, pain, and death.
Use the links above to navigate this site and learn more about Flesh of my Flesh, Guerrilla Productions, and our other movie projects, including our most recent -- a feature-length animated adaptation of The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, H. P. Lovecraft’s turn-of-the-century fantasy novel.
What’s new on this site?
02-25-2009: No new updates to the site (well, Herbert's added a few things...), but updated the Production Diary. Keep your eye on the Production Diary for the latest greatest news of the post-production process.
08-15-2007: Added a few entries to the Production Diary, added the new Guerrilla Productions banner
02-25-2007: Added pictures to the top level page and, of course, updated the Production Diary and the crew listing.
01-29-2006: Updates including new links to our CafePress site and, of course, the Production Diary.
11-20-2005: Updates including new logo and Merchandise
07-02-2005: New host solution activated.
06-08-2005: Updated top page of site and Production Diary.
05-31-2005: Uploaded two teasers to the Downloads section.
November 17, 2011: There are more news reports. I unwillingly embrace the dichotomy of being what my colleagues call a pessimist with what they also call brilliant. I embrace the dichotomy of being right, and loathing being right -- wishing I wasn't right.
November 15, 2011: There is a news report. In the vast ocean of mankind's cruelty to mankind, such a story might well be ignored, but upon reading it, I felt my skin crawl in a way that I cannot attribute to anything but a profound ancestral dread. I pray to whatever creatures listen to prayers that it is simply an anomaly.
October 24, 2011: A scrap of paper, a bit of research has found its way to me. It is a glimpse of some of the terror I have suspected lies beneath the skin of man. It is a clue in the eternal spiral of life's molecule. It is a difference, a tiny hardly noticeable hook, a squiggle on the page in the novel of our genome. But it is significant. There is something here that we do not normally see. Not normally.
October 8, 2011: The network of learned people who enjoy exploring what most would consider a peculiar fringe of science reveals itself when I am contacted anonymously by post. A single word hand-printed on a card leads me to investigate mass graves and ongoing ritualistic killings nearly two thousand years old. The Moche civilization, highly advanced, included what is to be belived as hundreds of years worth of mass murder, torture, and killings. How could a people so violently kill each other? Why? Victims in some cases indicate exsanguination and flensing -- and not all of these events post-mortem. What happened to create such a bloody and violent war within the same tribe?
October 4, 2011: A curious example, forwarded to me by a colleague. A legendary creature who appears at regular intervals in local mythology, the Wendigo is a man turned into some sort of other creature, a creature who stalks humans voraciously and aggressively. According to some of the older lore, such a creature happens as a result of cannibalism, and they are often hunted (presumably without a great deal of success) down and destroyed by the locals. This customary taboo against cannibalism extends into mankind's distant past, but the parallels also do so, although one must search a bit before they are found. This creature, however, suggests an alternative, a variation of thinking that I've not previously explored. What if the cause an effect are reversed. What if the cannibalism isn't the causative of the infestation by a Wendigo, but a result.
September 30, 2011: I learn more. Theories abound as to the nature of the abrupt turn of the Anasazi natives of the Southwest United States to suddenly building fortified cliff dwellings, easily defensible. But against what? Although most archeologists debate this point, a few suggest a thread of cannibalism among the culture. This is met with an equally powerful argument that cannibalism is one of the worst possible crimes in Anasazi culture, punishable by death and dismemberment. But, perhaps there is a solution that satisfies all elements. Perhaps there was a sudden appearance of cannibalism, but perhaps it wasn't from within their own ranks, or the ranks of any other known tribe. Maybe it was something different. Something that had been with them all along, but that had been previously hidden. Something that was not a part of the Anasazi culture, but that preyed on it. What could be so terrifying that an entire culture would build themselves into fortresses?
September 25, 2011: It is a peculiar fact that the creatures on earth share a great amount of genetic material. Although the splits have occurred millennia ago for some species, nevertheless, we still share a tremendous amount of mutual genetic information with every other creature on this planet. I have been considering this. I have been considering just how much difference there is between any two animals, given only the slightest differences in their genetics. I have been considering -- among other things -- just how much of these other animals we possess, hidden untriggered within us. How much strength, how much speed, how much cunning and instinct do we possess, by the very nature of being constructed of the same basic DNA as every other creature on Earth?
What lies latent beneath our skin, in our bones and muscles and sinew? What lies sleeping, having not reared its head for hundreds and thousands of years, for millions of years? The answer surrounds us -- look at every animal on earth.
September 20, 2011: I've never liked that our greatest enemies are portrayed with weaknesses. I've never liked that somehow, human ingenuity, human spunkiness, human luck, or simply the property of being human can somehow overcome even the worst of enemies. Enemies traditionally have an Achilles heel and this, somehow, seems like the most egregious form of cheating imaginable.
There are more lessons in losing then there are in winning and the idea that we can somehow beat or overcome a genuine predator is not only laughable in the extreme, but -- after a few minutes of reflection -- quite a grave and disturbing notion. What are we learning, with this pathological need to always win? Nothing.
More importantly, we are patting ourselves on the back falsely, hoping beyond hope that if we can beat up our straw men and each other with sufficient ferocity, then perhaps our artificial battlefield will serve as a warning to any real predators out there -- be careful! Mankind is a nasty thing and will always win! Notice those heads on stakes! (not too closely, though, or you will see they are just cardboard)
We are fooling ourselves and living complacently with our endless ability to beat every enemy we are willing to create.
We are doomed.
September 12, 2011: What makes us change our rituals regarding the dead? Why is it that a social group, a tribe or a civilization can switch to a wholly different treatment of their deceased literally overnight? This happens frequently throughout history and each and every time, anthropologists suggest this reason or that reason to it. Cultural phenomenon. Learning about disease. Some new taboo. But I think they may be wrong. I think they are too drawn tightly into their own special fields to see the entire, terrifying picture. I think they are not taking a sufficiently systemic view of the burial rites and treatments of the human race throughout history. I think they are not seeing what I am starting to see. In fact, I know they aren't, because they do not appear to be anywhere near as terrified as I am.
September 02, 2011: I've been considering the idea of predators. All creatures on Earth seem very clearly to be prey to at least one species, and predator to another. Furthermore, it is my personal experience that certain species are unmistakably and naturally predators, regardless of such factors as size or diet.
The first time I encountered the sudden realization of a predator was while cleaning a shed out as a child. In this shed was a large variety of common garden spider, Araneus diadematus. Curious, I allowed one to climb upon my gloved finger and observed this beautiful creature. Delicately, it picked its way across the rough leather, until, as if by chance, it stood on the very tip of my finger, facing my eye, which to this beast must have been a swimming pool sized orb. I know intellectually that it is unlikely such a tiny creature can string together abstract and coherent thoughts in the same way as a human, but nevertheless, at that exact moment, I knew it was staring at me with its rows of eyes in soft brown fur. I could have crushed this creature without a thought and yet for the briefest flicker, I felt from it the sense of a true predator, the sense that -- despite my gargantuan size relative to it -- I was simply food. I felt this realization to the core of my being, and it shook my place in the Universe to feel how right that position felt. As I shuddered, the thing bit down into my glove and I felt my very will waver in the presence of this pure predator. The wave passed and in a sudden fit of revulsion, I ended the life of this creature which had pinned my soul to meaning.
The second time was during a visit to a less-than-reputable reptile house. The proprietor, an ingenious fellow who had an unnatural talent with reptiles and in particular snakes, was showing me around. He was especially pleased with a large boa constrictor, which had been trained to do a few rudimentary tricks. This constrictor, I should point out, was in diameter comparable to my leg -- quite impressively large. During one of the tricks, the constrictor suddenly became agitated, tremendously disturbed. It writhed and wriggled to escape the clutches of the proprietor. In a matter of seconds, he had seen the problem. Into a dark corner, he pointed with his chin and said simply "The king snake got out again." Deep within the shadows of that corner lay coiled a tiny snake, as if a pencil with glittering eyes had suddenly softened and spun itself around into a ring. "It's a snake predator," he explained, still exerting great effort to keep the massive constrictor from hurting itself in an attempt to escape from a snake a fraction of its mass, across a room in a dark corner, and not actually moving at all.
The third time is a trivial event, almost embarrassing to relate. While playing idly with a cat, I noticed its eyes. A cat's eyes are, like most eyes, sensitive to the surrounding light. In dim light, the pupil is round, and in strong light, the pupil contracts to the familiar vertical slit of cats. During this play, the cat suddenly stepped backward and crouched. I lowered my head slightly, to watch the cat, and then, in the broadest of daylight, I saw the cat's irises expand to fill the eye, becoming hypnotic inky pits. A fraction of my brain knew. A fraction of my brain realized that right then, the part of a cat that is a predator pure and simple is running the eyes. It was rangefinding for a jump. In a fraction of a second I realized this, but there was no time for motion. The cat leaped.
These incidents lead me to believe that there are creatures the predatory nature of which transcends the boundaries of species. There are creatures in this world that are predators and are predators to such a degree that the member of any species knows it. Furthermore, I posit that there is a sense of "knowing", if such could be assigned to animals and other prey, of "knowing" that one is to be food. Also, there is a certain... acceptance.
These thoughts occupy me greatly.
August 15, 2011: An alarming bit of news has crossed my desk. On the surface, it makes sense that some of anthropology's earliest cultures would include cannibalism, but at the same time, my curiosity cannot help but be piqued at the variance from elaborate Neanderthal burial rituals to this raw ripping of flesh. What if this isn't just a cultural variation. What if there is something else at work, even in the mists of human history?
August 10, 2011: My recent research into matters of post-mortem activity has produced a curious pattern of historical significance. At the moment, there is the slightest hint of something profoundly disturbing, but nevertheless, the clues are unmistakable. The first thing I noticed and only recalled as a footnote in a previous anthropological text was a peculiar mummification ritual of the Chinchorro Indians, not just preparing their dead for an afterlife, but binding and restraining the corpse after death. Why would they do this? Why would they feel the need to not only bind their dead, but keep them on display, in the open? Perhaps keeping them under watch?