The Infernal Rift is something like the Uncanny Valley, but it is also like the Abject Moraine and several other negative psycho-geographical metaphors. That’s because the Infernal Rift is also a metaphor, obviously. The Infernal Rift is the gap between vision and talent. The chasm between imagination and skill. The yawning gorge between coherence and narrative strategy. It is the fiery line between so-bad-it’s-good and so bad. It is a river of molten dreams, and the whole thing smells like burning ape.
The stories here are not for the faint of heart. Or the shallow of character. Or the fine of taste or other adjectives of nouns. Do you have the adamantine of bowels to handle J.M. Torgo’s Infernal Rift?