WATCH

T H R O U G H A L L O F I T ’ S

S H I F T I N G S C R E E N S

A R E A L S O M I R R O R S ,

I N W H I C H W E H A V E

T H E O P P O R T U N I T Y T O

S E E O U R S E L V E S A N D

E A C H O T H E R A S

N E V E R B E F O R E .

T H E

S E V E R E

B E A U T Y

I N

T H E

D E P T H S

O F

Y O U R

R E F L E C T I O N

E S C A P E

F R O M

A C T U A L I T Y

S E C O N D S E L V E S He has entered a place where human nature remains the same, but the structures shaping it are alien. He finds it easy to let present distractions push an anxious back log of other ideas to the edges of his attention. For as long as he is typing, texting, networking, he can be who he want’s to be, he can remain in denial. He is in control. Then he steps away from the screen, and what he really ought to be concerned about begins to rise up.

S O L E L Y O F O B J E C T I F I C A T I O N

&

F A C I L E D E L I G H T

He is a man with out a face, silver and exact. His only connection is to the manufactured world around him: his tools, shared spaces, his patterns of action and reaction. And with it comes new forms of information about his new world, in new kinds of quantities. Information about who we are, what we are doing, and what we are like. It is the ones and zeroes of electrical charge, from which the possibilities of this digital world ultimately flow. Degrading people to the status of mere objects, presences that we turn on and off at will, and to which we owe little respect or honesty. Veiled behind ever greater complexities, we perpetually risk distancing ourselves from fully committed relationships with each other, and from introspective relationships with ourselves.

Oblivious.

B R E A T H I N G I N T H E C H E M I C A L S

He steps away from the screen, and what he really ought to be concerned about begins to rise up. He can feel it in his system, standing calmly amongst the crowds without shock or awe as the invisible fall-out rains over him. Consumed by the evolution of society, so vast the technology in his life he fears the unthinkable. The fist thing you touch in the morning and the last thing at night.

Welcome to the new age.

T H E N E W A G E

T H E A P O C A L Y P S E