SWANK Black Paper No. 08
The Soft Empire: How Fungus Replaced Will
Filed under: Psychoenergetic Mold · Terrain Sabotage · Patterns of Permission
By Polly Chromatic | Curator-in-Chief, SWANK Archive
I. The Moisture Hook
Fungus doesn’t destroy.
It dissolves.
It doesn’t scream. It sighs.
It doesn’t pierce. It softens—until you forget where you end and it begins.
This is not mere microbiology.
This is a psychoenergetic coup.
Pattern:
Unsealed grief.
People-pleasing.
Sweaty fear.
Moist corners in houses and hearts.
It whispers:
“It’s fine. Just let it sit.”
II. The Shame Loop
Shame is the perfect mycelial mulch.
Still. Silent. Steamy.
Fungus doesn’t judge it—
It blooms in it.
Pattern:
You isolate.
You stop cleaning.
You stop speaking.
The fungus grows where your voice used to be.
III. The Fog Spiral
Fungus hates clarity.
It thrives in soup.
Pattern:
Confusion → paralysis → exhaustion → surrender to the “I don’t know.”
And you don’t.
Because your field is no longer yours.
IV. The Craving-Fulfillment Loop
Fungus mimics desire.
It doesn’t want what you want.
It wants you to want and collapse.
Pattern:
“I need it.” → Consume. → Guilt. → Repeat.
It thrives on:
— Sugar.
— Porn.
— Scrolling.
— Men who text “u up?” from beds they don’t own.
V. The Enmeshment Signature
Fungus doesn’t knock. It merges.
It doesn’t possess—it cohabits your thoughts and calls it identity.
Pattern:
“I’m just tired.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
You ghost your own truth.
You believe the whisper.
You dim the light—so it doesn’t have to leave.
VI. Institutional Mold
Some systems weren’t corrupted.
They were born moist.
Not presence. Not power.
Just paperwork, passivity, and policy rot.
Pattern:
– Hospitals with 12-month waiting lists and no diagnosis
– Social workers who write reports instead of knocking
– Courts that extend timelines until you collapse
– Schools that sedate brilliance and call it “behavior management”
This isn’t failure.
This is fungal design.
CONCLUSION
Fungus is not a microbe.
It’s a behavior pattern.
And the empire it builds is made of everything you didn’t say.
Let the mold rot.
Let the will return.
Let the empire fall.