Boring Social Media themed study

RND/ Social media themed art study, based around terminally dull media:

Amazon Reviewer

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To imagine a weirdo Amazon reviewer and their bizarre product list.

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An Unremarkable Image

Seemingly simply no more or less than precisely that.

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Example Artistic Statement via Theorist Robert What:

Straight from the hideousness of mundane everyday existence: an unremarkable image via semi undecidedly non professionals.

Bland juxtapositions half set against a drab modern palette: tools of the postmodern hyper war, digital typography architectural shadows and rendering glitches – the unstated ideology however being that such images are somehow ‘no more or less than they appear’, ie. wholly unremarkable – when in fact they might simply be far less even than that.

False promises and deep time; all that does not glitter still might not be golden.

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Crayzay Rich Brats Online

Via some foul young Instagram munt.

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Consider ‘Get Money’ art – via some kickable rich brat on Instagram.

Example Artist Statement via Theorist Robert What:

Every day as exactly the same; punching the life clock until death – except how to recognize any difference?

An endless mechanical process of filling up hollow days with deluded illusion that something-anything is happening.

– In which I want to be stinking filthy rich; my life seems extraordinarily ordinary, terminally boring and unbearably lonely.

At least with some dirty money in my sweaty, greasy palm I can pay to work with some actual, real artists and together create something of some minor Meaning, vague beauty and-or temporary intellectual engagement.

All I need is one breakthrough – one chance, one foot in the door.

Only thing is, the world is already Theirs, baby – these strutting credit cards with legs.

Given chance I could change reality itselves.

With some serious money I could reinvent myself; become famous, admired, a cool person I’ve secretly dreamed about for years.

With unlimited resources, with cultural position and friends I can live a new life of ease, fun and high adventure – finally escape this pathetically dreary null space, a half-life still as yet un-lived.

– At least at university [1] there was lite beer, shit dope and beautiful intelligent young people.

Best of all perhaps was staying up late to discuss Life, Polyverses and Everything.

The Internets are now all there is now for me – an undead virtual substitute.

I visit the same kind of sites daily – pretending to feel remotely interested in stuff.

Pretending to write for and on some random anonymous backwater art blog nobody reads or remotely cares about.

It’s all a bit of a cosmically useless farce without a punchline and only a listless audience of one.

Going through the daily motions of having emotions.

– All I need; some immensely wealthy patron or benefactor – some group of equally forward thinking, intensely artistically inclined visionaries to pretend to take me seriously long enough to adequately fund an artistic lifestyle to which I could so easily become accustomed – free instant access to artists, thinkers, supercomputing social networks.

– In other words, a brought ability to treat information as global capital flow – to plunge sticky clever fingers into the digital matrix and directly interface with mass global culture at speed of collective artistic thought.

– In some small way I might already be doing that right now -‘hyper advanced postmodern theory-fiction’ evolving consciousness realtime (kinda.)

– I just want someone – anyone – to think I’m ‘really on to something’ – whose clever enough to ask questions.

Nobody around here ever asks me any questions; my intense sadness over not feeling needed or admired for strange thoughts in and channeled via this brain makes my silent sadness an existentially weighty burden I could do without.

– Note: a couple of £ doesn’t buy a lot nowadays; I’d probably just spend most of it on sophisticated shameless self advertising and promotion for even more serious startup capital, in order to perform some truly hardcore ‘Big Science’ RND.

*mild listless, uselessly wistful sigh*

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Does The Sky Exist

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