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Shattered Symbols & Dead Digital Dreams |
The last few years of underground club culture has been excavating the digital caves of a partially imagined ’90s. Primordial computer animations and images of information technology from years past builds a womb around the twenty/thirty somethings, who enjoys the comfort of an aesthetic reminding them of a time when the future seemed exciting. There’s an almost crippling sadness to works like Pussykrew’s video for Perera Elsewhere’s “Giddy”, or Jim Christopher Nedd and ST:s video for Dracula Lewis’s ”Spacies”. A nostalgia formed around a future that has already happened.
Somewhere along the lines of our cultural evolution, we have developed the ability to mourn the very expectation of a better world. We grow up stunted, not only unable to fly, but unable to dream, to leave the body—and its place in the world—behind. The recreation of dead digital dreams is a mourning process of the sacred spheres we can no longer reach. It makes sense that this imagery exploded in our collective consciousness simultaneously to that of occult symbology and referencing. They are , essentially, the same. For while the occult has its revivals every twenty or so years, this time around it has been deprived of any connotations to actual occult practice.
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(via whiskerpits)
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Posted on October 22, 2013 via I come by it honestly with 56,757 notes
Source: i-come-by-it-honestly
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living the dream
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a comic about visiting the sloth sanctuary in costa rica
(right-click and select ‘open link in new tab’ to see each page larger)
this is like my every dream.
(via motorcitykitty)
Posted on July 19, 2013 via COMIQUES with 716 notes
Source: comiques
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(via fuckyeah-pixels)
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The riots also offered a glimpse into how photographs can be used out of context:
‘Sir: In last week’s article about the poll-tax riot in Trafalgar Square (‘THE MOB’S BRIEF RULE’, 7 April) there is a large photograph labelled ‘A West End shopper argues with a protester’. The woman in the photograph is me, and I thought you might like to know the true story behind the picture.
I was on my way to the theatre, with my husband. As we walked down Regent Street at about 6.30pm, the windows were intact and there was a large, cheerful, noisy group of poll-tax protesters walking up from Piccadilly Circus. We saw ordinary uniformed police walking alongside, on the pavement, keeping a low profile. The atmosphere was changed dramatically in moments when a fast-walking, threatening group of riot-squad police appeared.
We walked on to the top of Haymarket, where the atmosphere was more tense and more protesters were streaming up Haymarket from the Trafalgar Square end. Suddenly a group of mounted police charged at full gallop into the rear of the group of protesters, scattering them, passers-by and us and creating panic. People screamed and some fell. Next to me and my husband another group of riot-squad appeared, in a most intimidating manner.
The next thing that happened is what horrified me most. Four of the riot-squad police grabbed a young girl of 18 or 19 for no reason and forced her in a brutal manner on to the crowd-control railings, with her throat across the top of the railings. Her young male companion was frantically trying to reach her and was being held back by one riot-squad policeman. In your photograph I was urging the boy to calm down or he might be arrested; he was telling me that the person being held down across the railings was his girlfriend.
My husband remonstrated with the riot-squad policeman holding the boy, and I shouted at the four riot-squad men to let the girl go as they were obviously hurting her. To my surprise, they did let her go – it was almost as if they did not know what they were doing.
The riot-squad policemen involved in this incident were not wearing any form of identification. Their epaulettes were unbuttoned and flapping loose; I lifted them on two men and neither had any numbers on. There was a sergeant with them, who was numbered and my husband asked why his men wore no identifying numbers. The sergeant replied that it did not matter as he knew who the men were. We are a middle-aged suburban couple who now feel more intimidated by the Metropolitan police than by a mob. If we feel so angry, how on earth did the young hot-heads at the rally feel?’
Mrs R.A. Sare, Northwood, Middlessex Source
(via ioreka)
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Posted on March 29, 2013 via Vacant hive with 824 notes
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The hermit tradition is actually one of the most important parts of Chinese society. We [in the West] almost always think of hermits as misanthropes, as people who want to step out of, and have nothing to do with, society - whereas in China the hermit has always been seeking the wisdom with which to guide society. My conversations with hermits in China led me to conclude that [for them] seclusion was like going to graduate school. Afterwards they can teach. Seclusion did not necessarily mean individual seclusion. It could also occur in a relatively secluded monastery. Persons who could “break the mold” and become teachers almost always required a period of seclusion for maturation. The Zen tradition represented one aspect of this tradition by producing these individuals en masse. You almost never hear of anybody who became a teacher by just working their way up through the ranks of an organization. This was true not only in Zen, but among other Buddhist schools such as Pure Land or T’ien-t’ai. It was true in Taoism as well. There was an awareness that to bring the teachings they had learned to fruition, individuals needed to be alone with them, and so Chinese hermits have been doing that. Nowadays, when I visit my hermit friends, I often find Chinese Communist officials visiting them too. One woman hermit I visited had six Communist officials in her hut, seeing if they could do anything to help her out. The Chinese previously maintained, and have recently revived, an awareness that these people were doing society a lot of good. They’re like a mountain stream that brings fresh water down into town. The water eventually reaches the town, no matter whether you pipe it down or it comes down as a spring.
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Bloodroot as Plant Dye, Sanguinaria canadensisBloodroot is a popular natural dye plant. The roots produce a yellow-orange dye and the stems produce orange-red dyes.Erika Beyer, watercolor Plant dye series(via scientificillustration)
Posted on November 22, 2012 via LAWS OF FATE HERBAL with 97 notes
Source: erikabeyer.com
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Nardwuar vs. Lydia Lunch
#1 reason why Lydia Lunch is completely fucking intolerable
Excuse me… How is she being intolerable here?
He doesn’t ask her any substantial questions he just asks her about all the DUDES she fucked and all the DUDES and BANDS she knows. He doesn’t ask her any questions about her and HER work which is AMAZING and REVOLUTIONARY.He just asks her a bunch of crap spattered with actual questions.
He is being so rude and stupid towards her I am surprised she doesn’t kill him. She shows an great amount of restraint towards him. He is a terrible interviewer and is a complete idiot in this piece which might be his ‘shtick’ but that doesn’t mean that Lydia is being intolerable because she is not playing along. He brings up so many false statements and obviously has no interest in what she has to say. Even after she says the interview is over he follows her and calls after her like a prick refusing to accept her “goodbyes” as a final answer.
She is not being intolerable, YOU are being ignorant by not taking a second to understand the actuality of the situation that Lydia is having to deal with.
(via whiskerpits)
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this is all I want in life.
