Monday, 1 February 2010

Glitches. So tired are the structures, technology itself rebels and offers guidance.
Here to alterior dimensia. Here to strokes of accidents. Meaning is nothing, we supply that later.
Random is the passage to escapedom. With slash imagery feeding from one channel to the next.
Images of monotony. Images of poverty; of so called truth layered with grotesque parallels of nothingness.
Youtube fed us to the dogs. Television programs lost in self-doubt. What now is the inner we?
Slash imagery, keys to clues to happy cinders. Digi-data, where colours are altered, surmised and doctored by chance.
Where machinery warp from idle men to cutlery switching to the taliban to klein blue to cartoon teradactyls of death.

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