In Neal Stephenson’s 1992 novel Snow Crash, information itself becomes a virus — a contagion capable of infecting minds and collapsing civilizations. Thirty-three years later, we’re living in that metaphor made real. Streams, algorithms, news cycles, and neural networks now replicate faster than meaning can stabilize.
Infocalypse Press was founded to make sense — or at least art — out of the noise. We publish work that resists erasure, embraces recursion, and reclaims attention from the feed. Art and literature have always been acts of survival; now they’re also acts of signal recovery.
Literacy isn’t dying; it’s mutating. We graze the net, half-reading, half-dreaming through the scroll. Infocalypse is a pause — a space to explore what meaning becomes when art crosses mediums: dance, image, sound, text, signal. It’s about tracing the parallels — the strange, recursive ways our zeitgeists reflect us, and how we might unfold the future together.
We’re here because the future feels strange, and we’re trying to make sense of it the only way we know how — through art. Infocalypse is a place for the sincere, the reflective, the experimental, the wild, and the wondering.
Our first issue will launch January 15, 2026
Infocalypse is an independent publication created in October 2025 by Zephyris.