On 8 February 2011 23:50, Andreas Maria Jacobs <[email protected]> wrote: > Hi again > > How 'networked' is the alienated artist
this networked (itlps) artist is alienated. > > A harsh silence, preferable to stupid words > > I sincerely like to share, but when it is not related to techno- > fetishism it is most of the time ignored and my feeling of despair is > growing Not sure if I am guilty or not though I can say I don't have a fetish for the latest 'must-have' gadgets - I can't afford to. Sorry no harsh silence here, only stupid words, but... As a teenager I used to desire fast cars such as Ferraris but over the years I realized people like me don't have Ferraris which eventually led to the realization I couldn't give a shit what car I drive as long as it agrees to perform the function of transportation from A to B. The power-steering pump on my current car has gone wrong and now makes a nasty grinding noise. I was initially worried until consulting my father for his opinion which was that I will always be able to guide my car around corners even if the steering pump fails. So that's all that matters. It's kinda the same with technology. I'm into Linux because of the freedom and very low initial cost of ownership. I find that being someone with not a lot of money, I want to have some degree of control over the technology I do buy. With the computer running Linux I have control over it. I can install software which doesn't waste CPU cycles looking like a design student has just wanked all over it. I don't care if my software looks shit as long as it functions. Such an attitude leads one inevitably to the command line where there are > I do not to intend to exagerate but having the impression that content > issues are snowing under and that form and context is taking over > > Networked art will not exist when the network is as fragile as a veil > spun by spiders and broken by the slightished breeze > > Is netbehaviour is becoming a privileged platform for the same > incestuous incrowd as always is the case when concepts are mistaken > for art? i've forced my way in here, to begin with under the illusion it would make me an artist. > Empty colorfull containers are the main output of empty colorfull > people Ah, now, I can disprove this. As I have mentioned before, I work in a plastics moulding factory. You wouldn't believe how many buckets must be made day in day out. It would be mind blowing if it wasn't so mind numbing. Now, again, now, colourful buckets are usually the result of a material colour-change (ie one job ends another starts). Ie, the moulding machine has been making green buckets, but now has started on a job making blue buckets. Between the acceptable buckets is a range of funky buckets. How funky they are depends on if the colour material was stopped and the machine carried on with the colourless-material. Personally i see a market for them but the company just regrinds them (recycles) (apparently). But it's still boring as hell. Today I was making buckets fucking fuck bucket bastard buckets and the future looks bleak indeed. Total list of positives about my job 1) i'm not shovelling shit. 2) i have a job. 3) i can listen to music on headphones. The other day I was listening to some music I'd not listened to for a long time (ie most of my music collection) and it blew my head away such that I felt like I wasn't really at work but was just playing. The feeling of being at play ended when I cut my thumb with the knife that was supposed to be trimming flash from buckets. Ah yes, yes, yes, today I was again feeling my future is bleak, full of jobs where I stand for 8 hours a day, and am paid the minimum amount by UK law that employers are obliged to pay. And I thought, perhaps I should start praying. And considering I'm not really religious, I really felt that yes, perhaps finding Jesus.. not Jesus but you know, some kind of internal saviour operating independently from any religion,... maybe I should give it a go? A saviour might help even if it is a delusion of some kind. I'm laughing really. Really. Yes. Look, sorry for the stupid words but after a day at work in vocal silence, the longest conversation I had consisted of maybe three sentences (rest of the conversations consisted of maximum three grunts), my brain goes gaga (with a pinch of salt on my tongue (pressed softly - not firmly) in my cheek). _______________________________________________ NetBehaviour mailing list [email protected] http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
