Monopoly Of Objects

I tend to fear the monopoly of Production. Maybe its our tendencies for consumption that I fear the most. As we villianize our neighbors, colonize different countries, wage wars against the weak and convert inocent peoples into wage laborers, the value of objects has slowly personified our weaknesses and frailties as human beings. The Object has become an archetype, a symbols and representation of our psyche and belief system, in that it has become a "system" and "network vehicle" for how we express ourselves. But is this right? Have we turned Objects into forms of language? Communication?

Now we have Coroperate Identities branding and labeling our "Will To Identity", telling us what to wear and what to think about and what to buy. The social shifts are staggering when you think of the excererated rate of obselence of things and ideals that once dominated our patronage; a calculated privation almost predatorial.

You see suburbanites staring in bewilderment at their garages or in their closets or at their bank statements, wondering what happened. What have I paid for? Where did all this stuff come from? It actually amazes me when my freinds and aquaintences tell me about their five warehouses of stuff they nearly fogot they had or about their closet full of shoes they only wore once because it was the fashion at that time or about their toy collection which they never opened.

People have forgotton the necessity of linits and why they are there. Yet I'm thankful to see people, at the same token, recycling (still not a major movement but as our recession hit its heights, it will become more a common practice) and giving away their "junk" and clearing the clutter from their lives---a small feat for our 21st century but the glut of our object collection continues.

Prodigy Of The Fallen

Normally my Face would serve as a valid introduction to the machines of discourse thus imbuing complete understanding of the basic nature of "Who I Am", with the agressive warnings that accompanies creatures like myself. Words, I'm afraid, will have to suffice.

It starts with the watching.

Beginning with a small pocket of space extending omnidirectionally, impregnated withe cosmic matter of all things. Sudden destruction of atomic particles releasing the Mobile Fiats traversing forbidden realms at the speed of thought---the collapse of all light then the Darkness. That is how I was born.

My name?

Dare you ask something so naive?

My Name is the face I wear: torn, beaten, stained with centuries of blood, war and disease...

Yet I Live!

My Name is a terrible immensity, a fathomless void haunting the borders of existence. How dare you ask this of me! I will, because you've made it this far on you journey, tell you this: I am the grand incarnation of Humanity's creations and am held responsible for their untimely deaths! This is the nature of the Face which you are unworthy even of its terror and eternal punishment! Your greatest crime is in the asking.

Do not hold me responsible for your future! It is in the hands you've made for yourself!

PROTOCAUST: Theories Of A Stranger World

He doubted architecture on the basis that: Constructs do not dictate future actions but present conditions. Space, place/environment and time are resolutions of current political and sociological human activities. He saw my quizical look. "Think of it this way: a door carries information as well was instruction setting a primary basis of operation. Now, think of the many times you entered said door---the unexpected locked doors, the private doors ,the ominous doors or the door that are wide open yet hinder you from entering. The concept of 'future' always fail when encountering the complexities of the human body and its behavior. This is one of the many reasons architecture fails its ideal stance; Moderism, Post-Modernism, Deconstructivism... all those buildings and places failed at some crucial point..."

I painfully remembered the 'isms' and 'ists' during my college years at Sci-Arc. He removed a sparkplug lost in an enlightened sense of facination. Then he said: "Every created thing serves a purpose." "That's a broad assertion." "As broad as the human mind, son. Everything that exists solves a problem and not all solutions are appropriate for everyone. Your ancestors knew this as well as mine in Germany." "But wouldn't that imply created things are tools?"

"If you look at the world as one big machine, maybe. I just hate refferencing the human condition in those terms, there are always alienating consequences that occur..." "So Man has replaced his Image with an Idol?" "It's an old habit. Our century has made advances that makes it easier to accept. We all have our idols and our objects of devotion."