08.06.07
Unpolished, unrefined
A series of television channels flicks by at the usual pace of an artificial heart. But what is displayed is not the usual series of images one comes to expect from television. It’s not children, cleaning products, food, news, graphics, models, cars. The channels are from a mind. There is a significant degree of apparent randomness and apparently non-sensical juxtaposition that even the most aggressive channel surfing cannot match. There is, it would seem, an inscrutable symbolic theme, akin to an artistic vision, avidly attempting to reveal and realize itself. This vision, this theme, is totally unconcerned with points of reference such as hope or despair. Indeed, emotions irrupt into the totality of the moving pictures only as an effect generated by the alien act of an erstwhile objective observation, whose root source is a disease of time and space, a Möbius strip calling itself “I”.
