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The Museum of Vestigial Desire


tag: air

Every time we try to communicate, we expose ourselves. Exposure is dangerous as well as highly potential in an exponential way. There is a possibility to trigger a reaction between the two worlds that get locked-in together because of this exposure. When our species first rose above functional and low-level communication of the animal, we quickly got distracted. Whereas communication could have allowed us to reveal our secrets to each other and allow us to compare our perspectival frames in order to isolate and remove the frame to be able to visualise the world as it is and not be stuck with seeing it as it seems. But we did not do that. We passed up the opportunity and today we are stuck with treating communication as something that we cannot accept at face-value. We have to read into what we say to each other. If we do not read, we do not know.

Switching lanes causes accidents. But following the trail of the singular lane we are in also closes our world. In our closed world, we assume that everything we see has fixed dimensions and agree to operate at specific magnifications. We render a dynamic, vector universe into a static, raster form. By making this misunderstanding, we impose a metric grid where none exists. And by referring to this grid, we insist that everyone who engages with us also refers to this grid. This is not just a reduction. Reduction is fine, as it is we do not have the means to parse everything in the frame. In order to make the make the world liveable, we have to agree to make sense of some parts of it a refuse to deal with the rest.

When the slow forces us to crumble and turn away from the frame that offers us a deluded sense to a frame that offers us only the incoherent. The orgasmic is so fleeting, we don't want to squint in order to have it all come together. We want to be able to view the assemblage casually. Investing too much resource in understanding and making sense never seems meaningful. We are interested in skimming the surface, to get a taste. We are not interested in jumping in. What will we do if all the time in the world to offer to you? We will not have thoughts enough to deflower, we will not have enough windows to smash. How will the raw disregard spill out from us to you? When will you recognise us rightly - as a lost cause plugging away relentlessly and not as some flag-waving saviour?

The beacon is lost. And so we have nothing to do, no script to follow. When an actor does not have the script, she demands the script. When the director refuses to script, she is not doing her job. NO direction is possible in refusing to direct. Even the flavour of nothing is a flavour, there is no default, no vanilla, no basic.

But then where is the specification sheet? Where is the map? If the map cannot be published, how can we be asked to be coherent?

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