do not be alarmed the bellow should be considered to be satire…see ‘The mutterings project’ for prior reference.

One reaches a moment in ones life, where the future seems to stretch out into infinite dullness. filled with administration and management, of things and others- lackluster. No amount of incentive seems to, be enough to band-aid the unfolding beige future. Days, weeks, months and years of monotonously dull work, stretch out before one. The truth it seems is that either one is doomed to become, transportation service for ones progeny, and or, the platform for the creative realization of the progeny of others, Or both.

Perhaps, I am a symptom of my generation, a generation weened on, have it all culture, but importantly have a life of purpose and meaning culture. What when one reaches 40; with a list of achievements, but struggling to find purpose, in a world that seems to, take pleasure in meaninglessness; is one supposed to DO for the next 40/50 years of ones life?

I’m thinking of becoming a DADAIST, PERHAPS a 21ST CENTURY EQUIVALENT, the making of art in reaction to the apparent pointlessness of life, its deep immateriality. Of those who cannot or will not look into the abyss, of our meaningless consumer driven lives. Our lives and work, it seems have become distilled down to visual candy but meaningless image output, For illustration only as it where, where even the image is separated from meaning. Our purpose distilled to our value as consumers, of digital media. If the dadaist argue that the fact thing that give the artwork standing in Duchamp’s fountain is that he ‘Chose it’. then now even the choosing images is outsourced to AI. There is no transference of meaning, into the dis-articulated images. No “I think there for I am”, merely I do pattern recognition, there for I assemble. What of the assembly of bit and zero’s does the AI’s assembly have agency.

Perhaps the AI is, having a laugh, in much the same way as the DADAISTS.

The Blind…AI. A case for Mr Mutt in 2024.

the Blind Man Issue No.2.

I have a deep desire to exhibit lumps of broken concrete individually and call it art. Oh wait I already did that!Except I argue for a collectivist agency of stone. But perhaps It is time for an exhibition of individual objects. In defense of the agency of the matter itself to speak, interdependently. I assemble there for I am? I aggregate therefor I am? …….I am mattering therefor I am.