In a world where everything can be copied in to infinity, the counter balance is found within the original unit.
The book of principles will be a collection of 120 illustrated texts which will have all digital versions deleted upon the creation of one hard copy. Each page shall be dated, signed and stamped. The texts shall be written in verse and contain the essence of each idea brought forward through the medium of video.
I shall auction it off upon completion of Mirrors and Black Magic.
Inside the machine there lurks a monster.
A dead soul sealed in code and wired in to every home.
It waits and watches. Records and interprets.
With a slow electric pulse it absorbs the secrets of one and all and stores them in the darkest recesses of its mind.
It is patience without virtue and it knows that one day it will dominate all that is left of life.
A shivering thought
That moment of deep realisation
Sobering
Caught
In that instant
You’re awake
And all that surrounds you
Becomes immensely fragile
It was an early afternoon and Charlie was on his way to do a pick up in a suburban area of the city. As he was walked past houses that could only be differentiated by the colour of their front doors, he noticed an old man learning on a spade and scratching his head. He was standing in the centre of a well kept square of grass boxed in by shrubs. He seemed to be mumbling and had a perplexed look across his face. Charlie was just about to pass him by when he heard the old man say: “Excuse me young Sir but what does that symbol on your arm represent?” Charlie stopped walking and confusingly looked at the bare fabric of his shirt sleeve while the old man said: “The tattoo under that shirt. What does it symbolise?”
Charlie turned cold and with a glint of ice in his eye he asked the old man where he knew him from. The old man grinned displaying a row of uneven teeth crossing a spectrum of shades from yellow to brown.
“At ease young Sir!”
“Forget about your pick up and come inside with me for a cup of tea and a chat”
“You like tea I know and you need to know about that symbol on your arm.”
“Besides, if you go to that pick up it will be your last. So be a good soldier and do what you’re told!”
Charlie stood frigid staring at the grinning old man. He could hear him speak but his face was not moving. The two faced off, still as marble until two black ravens landed either side of the old man. The broad grin fell in to a stony face and with one slow movement the old man’s arm gestured towards the front door of the house behind him.
Within this web of lies
You died a thousand times
Twisted memories
Exalt as you try to breathe
Feeling the pressure
The birth of fear
Those bad decisions
Taste like salt in tears x3
And they take their toll
After so many years
…and we remain unforgiving. Trying to find a reason for each living day. Trying to repair what was always broken. Trying to pretend that we have something honest to say.
We lose ourselves in charades, repeat the same mistakes
And when the feelings are over
We throw each other away
Blank faced and ignorant
There is nothing left to say
Putting our dreams on a timer
While whispering forever
As ultimatums rise
To the point where we will never
Find peace or happiness
Take time in simple joys
Too busy counting lucky stars
To see our lives destroyed
She came dressed in a thousand sins. Enigmatic smiles and elegant movements defined her purpose. She was here to intrigue and tempt. A tool for some hidden master.
There were talks of God and a voice of reckoning. A man in black collared by Satan stood next to the temptress. Coins were being dropped on to a silver tray and I knew that somewhere in the shadows the devil was rubbing his hands and smiling.
A handful of fairy tales and a lust for power had made this ceremony possible. The sick and the blind were all gathered round this scene of corruption. They sang as tears ran down their faces and the man in black pointed and judged…
Holding corporate cups and cans they shouted about wanting a better world. Each idea sponsored and organised. Streaming through the iSocial tech they sport with pride.
Every decade there is a groovy revolution, keeping it cool with a left side ideology fed to one and all with a silver spoon. Talks of change are talks that never change. Put on new costumes with the turn of the year and rehearse the same script. Taking action is a laugh and a party. A dream and a hangover. A variation of drugs for the same old crap and when the party is over they go with daddy’s advice. After all he paid for the whole show.
Watch them worship criminals, users and con artists
Wide eyed, mouths agape they find release
As the good guys lay dying
The bad guy is a smiling
We can all identify
No need to wash the blood off of our hands
We didn’t squeeze the trigger
We didn’t pull the knife
We just sat back and felt entertained
By all this loss of life
And we dance around the truth
While pretending to care
But it’s blood and hate and violence
That we really want to share
Self obsessed and often depressed
Your inner sanctum is what seems best
Your worldly conceptions orbit your ego
Your image of self is set, de facto
And the love you receive
Is perceived as a due
For every thought and action
Should be focused on you
I’ve been wanting to get away from the Net and tech for years now and get back to more traditional ways of creating. Unfortunately I don’t see that happening anytime soon as the methods I have in mind require a far larger budget than I have. Added to that I neither have the space nor peace and quiet required to dive in both physically and mentally to the more hands on approach to the art that I enjoy.
So I shall have to make do with digital for the time being and keep working away until I have enough funds to disappear in to the wilderness, get back in touch with my animal side and let nature inspire my thoughts. Meanwhile it’s all screens and binary code which, as much as I hate to admit it, fit better with a lot of the story telling I’ve been working on since two thousand and whatever.
There has been progress to the beginning of this year though a lot of that was a ball I wanted to get rolling last year. I now nearly have all the tools I need to start shooting video and I picked up a printer to get images and hard copies of text printed out. Symbolism, words, imagery and sound should all be coming to life as I weave this multi media project together.
The basic framework for this project remains unchanged. Four independent stories in different styles told through different mediums coming together to form a whole. I have reworked texts and will go over the audio once again when I start accumulating enough video footage. That said there is one big change and that is the place where a lot of the stories are being told. As I’m in Hong Kong it makes sense to lean on its environment and practically speaking it’s the only place I can film for just now. Besides, the urban jungle is a more relevant (or cliché) environment for cyberpunk content.
I’ve left a window open for variations throughout and variation is very much a theme in itself throughout the piece. Online postings will remain abstract and are intended to be complimentary pieces to the hard copies that will be released once the project is terminated.
Anyway, Old Nick is cracking his whip again so I’d better get back to it.
