Ideas

From XPUB & Lens-Based wiki

Happiness Project

Future Time

Systems are established to warn people of radioactivity in wasteland areas from bombing and waste disposal

Folklore is embedded into the story framework of local peoples in order to maintain a reverence to the places

Digital human appears in places to warn people off

Digital human also appears in places in order to remind people of the essential cues of being human, i.e. laughter, happiness as a repository of an essential human condition, given the horrendous state of a system collapse, eons into the future people will revert to hunter/gatherer state where emotions such as happiness are superfluous given the survivalist state of being

AI is recalling the memories as the data decays and blurs together to form a disjointed narrative that confuses time and space relationships.

[1] Static glow refers to individual data that persists in networks long after a person has died.

soundtrack:

Script:

What's the matter?
Nothing; I wanted to be very precise
I didn't know the best way to say it
Or, rather, I did know, but I don't any more
Just when I should know, too.
Does it never happen to you?
Don't you ever talk about anything but yourself?
You are horrible
I'm not horrible, I'm sad
I'm not sad. I'm horrible
You never do as I ask; you always want me to do what you want
Anyway, I'm fed up. I want to die
Loving you is exhausting.
I'm always having to beg
I exist too. You say I'm cruel, but it's you
I thought it was important to talk to you, but I don't any more
We might have got together again
But the more we talk, the less the words mean
How about now? Are you tired?
If I say no, you won't think I'm awful?
I think we're always responsible for our actions. We're free
I raise my hand - I'm responsible
I turn my head - I'm responsible
I am unhappy - I'm responsible
I smoke - I'm responsible
I shut my eyes - I'm responsible
I forget I'm responsible, but I am
I told you there's no escape
Everything is good
You only have to take an interest in things
After all, things are what they are
A message is a message
Plates are plates
Men are men
And life is life
But the light that shines in my baby's eyes
Is more to me than the stars in the sky
And when the rest of the town starts to doze
The late evening sun in our window glows
We whisper in the secrecy of our own four walls
And make love together as darkness falls
Words should express just what one wants to say
Do they betray us?
But we betray them, too
One should be able to express oneself
I believe one learns to talk well only when one has renounced life for a time
That's the price.
-So, to speak is fatal?
Speaking is almost a resurrectionbin relation to life
Speech is another life from when one does not speak
So, to live in speech
one must pass through the death of life without speech
I may not be putting it clearly,
but there is a kind of ascetic rule
that stops one from talking well until one sees life with detachment
But one can't live everyday life with... I don't know With detachment
Then thinking and talking are the same thing?
One cannot distinguish the thought from the words that express it
An instant of thought can only be grasped through words
So one must talk and risk lying?
Lies, too, are part of our quest.
Errors and lies are very similar
But a subtle lie is little different from an error
One searches and can't find the right word
That's why you didn't know what to say
How can one be sure of having found the right word?
Someone told me: "There is truth in everything, even in error."
i am the debris of the audiovisual , the trash that washed up on the digital shore
i am the rare, the obvious, and the unbelievable
I've seen things you wouldn't believe. ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the darkness at Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain. is it time to die?
i am defiance and appropriation and conformism and exploitation

Who'll cry for modern man

Lost without a chance

Go fight eternity

Don't tell what you see

Lies and Truth side by side

Glazed eyes from some high

Anti Love is the word

No others ever heard


Alleys of Your Minds

Paranoia right behind

Alleys of Your Mind

Out of Sync Out of Rhyme


Stars of hate warp your mind

Where is your sense of time

Lazer beams cloud your dreams

Pop your mind at the seams

Take your faith in your hands

Do what your faith demands

If you do what you are told

Blame it on thought control

Alleys of your Minds

Paranoia right behind

Alleys of your mind

Out of Sync Out Of Rhyme

That’s something that’s always interested me: the idea that an object retains the memory of its fabrication. An object contains all the energy that went into making it. It’s part of what interests me so much about the human body. What makes the body so particularly incredible is that it’s able to produce energy, to transform, to grow…[T]he body is also an accumulation of moments, a record of its history.”