|Interior Hue College of Education|
People dream of the tropics. After some time here, sickness has granted a thick edge to my dreaming. Like a blunt knife it's torn through the veil, crudely, and brought a fresh madness to my wakeful hours.
|sketch: arch over dross-channel|
So instead of lesson planning or thinking about my future I'm doodling inanely, convincing myself that a new landscape aesthetic might also successfully synthesise Marx and Adam Smith, thus ending one of the feuds (one! one of feuds! hehehehe!) currently preventing us (us!) from achieving (achieving!) utopia (-).
|....ultimately it boils down to land-value tax...|
|Landscape in a sketchbook panel|
|...something about groundlines|
|writing about rhizomes induces a desire to draw complete graphs|
The important thing is to continue production, creation preventing stagnation. The most dangerous delusion of all being that this has to mean something, that what is produced has to withstand some kind of academic or aesthetic critique... from where is that likely to arrive? Whose criticism is capable of causing me any injury?
|on the left, heteronymous heresy; the right, nonsense|
|Cybernetic humans are not the next step in human evolution, they are the first step in cyborg evolution, we are their parasites, not the other way round.|
And so, with renewed vigour, into the abyss I descend.
|30 second exposure in shadow of citadel wall, long enough for me to get in the photograph twice.|