The nightmare is that our structures no longer need us. They can sustain themselves. We are unnecessary. Our desire to create has written us out of relevance.
AN IMAGINED EVENT
What does it mean to imagine an event? Can we name the imagining an ‘event’ if it did not happen? Is it enough for something to have occurred in the mind to be described as a happening? Must the event take place outside of it? Perception happens in the mind, so it must follow that so too do all events. How important is the observer to this distinction?
ARE WE CONSISTENTLY ASKING THE WRONG QUESTIONS?
When faced with uncertainty we instinctively try to write or paint our way out of it. Super-imposing meaning and order where there is none. Even Absurdism did this. It was not an acceptance of disorder, rather and attempt at mirroring in literature what was perceived in nature. Still trying to find answers, still trying to create a narrative out of the chaos.
Therapy is a meme that depends on storytelling. It is focussed storytelling. Is it any different in this respect to religion? It is storytelling with the aim of policing thoughts and behaviour in a specific way. A way of guaranteeing a particular set of behaviours in a given situation.
It is story telling with the aim of re-wiring the mind of the individual.
CURATION AS COMMUNICATION
When we participate in social media, often we are curating rather than speaking. Liking, favouriting, retweeting, reblogging: creating lists of things that we approve of, or wish to associate ourselves with. These things represent who I am. The process of curation is an effort to create a brand of the self. This as an activity, chosen over conversation as a means of communicating one’s tastes and ideas is dehumanising.
We are archaeologists excavating the recent past. Curating virtual museums with our finds that somehow speak of the future. Living our online lives within the imagination of William Burroughs.
The dimensions that we exist in have changed, from 3D fleshy reality to 2D website. Now on to before, web design that is grasping at that third spatial dimension. The illusion of space being moved through, a website you can walk through, float through. The dimensions of time and space now confused and indistinct. Past, present and future the same as we erase the barriers by writing more code. Constructing a new architecture of reality that doesn’t obey the old rules. Not yet clear if it obeys any rules. All things possible, everything real, as the unreal holds precedence.
'Nothing with which to express, nothing from which to express…'
This thing that you eventually make doesn’t make the world any clearer. It obscures it further. Every new statement, every new gesture creates 100 shadows, each making 100 more. Everything getting further and further away from the source. If there ever was one. We get what we wanted all along: a feedback loop of ourselves, our hubris, our insistence that we are. This is the reality that we are left with, a super-imposed image of our own making. We cannot see the underlying structure but we can place an image on top. A skin on the machinery’s bones.
The collapse that we have witnessed has been complete. Now we are building back out of the mess. Making statements that are incoherent because we don’t know any better. We embrace the chaos, embrace the mess; this is the web of connections that means nothing but still feels illuminating. Sub culture is feeding on it surging out.