It was then, but what is now, if we moved, where have we gone, a dazzling array of fixative entrainments, entertained by brief flashes of light, no different than our insect brothers and sisters running into the fire. Electric wizardry, a god exists in the flashing wands. Amused by the trappings of edited scripts, thoughts broken without a feeling, moments of discourse contained in pixelated pornography, emotive signals decide which way the creases and lines fold upon the face, yet no one is there, to recognize the mannerisms which we had been taught to hold. Distances eclipsed in a wire, yet without a sense to orient the presence of others, a more than human- world dissolved and reanimated to fit the screens blacking out our flashbulb eyes. Imaginary images trickle across this coded page. We are the projectors and the producers, stuck in a low-grade cinema house of selective attention, reuptake inhibitors of response and arousal, a virtual tickle tells us which way to turn. Need we ask for more? Before this was now, we were given it all, but allowed it to slip away, beyond our grasp. For what, this rattle and hum, an infants toy, to weak to cry or walk away, as we wallowed in our shit filled diapers, when the lights all went silent.
Image by: Adam Chavis