A moving prism

» But what if the truth is neither in the represented nor in the representation? What if the truth is in its material configuration? What if the medium is really a message? Or actually—in its corporate media version—a barrage of commodified intensities? To participate in an image—rather than merely identify with it—could perhaps abolish this relation. This would mean participating in the material of the image as well as in the desires and forces it accumulates. How about ackn owledging that this image is not some ideological misconception, but a thing simultaneously couched in affect and availability, a fetish made of crystals and electricity, animated by our wishes and fears—a perfect embodiment of its own conditions of existence? As such, the image is—to use yet another phrase of Walter Benjamin’s—without expression. It doesn’t represent reality. It is a fragment of the real world. It is a thing just like any other—a thing like you and me. — A Thing Like You and Me , Hito Steyerl

» The young man thought, I'll just stay here, I'll just stay here. but then he rose and followed the others onto the bus.  [...] there was nothing else to do. just to listen to the sound of the engine, the sound of the tires in the snow. - 'Nirvana' A poem by Charles Bukowski, read by Tom Waits