When essentialism has taken over commodity, by way of need, it is then time to take your glasses off.
In today’s society, we witness on a day-to-day basis the emotional destroying and deprivation of what was once a single consumption as far as the consumer market was concerned. The “out of the blue” sprung this design that if you have not got what I need you to purchase and make me rich, you are not truly valued within your sub-cultural agenda as far as the society you keep is concerned.
Visual ignorances of the colonisation of one’s own aspirations is now a thought of the past, as competitiveness was born within society and is now stained with erosion so hard that it is almost more important than the simplest of life’s needs.
Quality of understanding toward freedoms of one’s own choice and wanted perceptions are degraded where even the power to think is subjected to an accepted subjectivity. Is this to be the damned leading the damned, or are we to be blinded by the blind, so to speak?
In many ways, it is clear to see that the commodity in all of its glories is only a fetish that when digested is nothing more than a consumers delight, though consumed by social consumptions, is nothing more than a labour of ones wishes to be included in what society’s fetishes pertain. In a quote by Guy Debord from his work The Society of the Spectacle, 1967; “The spectacle is not a collection of images; rather, it is a social relationship between people that is mediated by images” this explains where there is room for singular aspirations to therefore ever reap the endeavors of ones own identificational aspiration.
Through global marketing, the eye can no longer see past the daily initiative of the capitalist perspectives that glares at you, like beams of blinding light, where you are blinded, via all media apparatuses, assuring mental correspondences regardless of whatever your disposal may be. The moving image is therefore elected to follow you until you submit and become part of what its consumptions are.
The de-artification of art and the simulacra of the simulation is nothing more than the sound of the wheels on the carriage coming to collect your hard-earned monies and take them into the priceless banks of obscurity.
The price of the naked thought in the dialect of one’s own thought is almost prepared to disengage with one’s own power of thought into what is best for one’s self, by way of presentation, representation, accountability, and more importantly comfort.
When society is led up the garden path of consumption and then practices holding the gate open for its counterparts, this is when the green grass of home loses its true colour and the flowers simply don’t bloom like they used to, nor do they accept the bottled water you purchased, as even tap water in untrustable in the light of the consumers price he has to pay, for what was once free, in a free-thinking society.
The orgy of ideology within the ethos of a free freedom, is now at a cost, where the daily freedom to enjoy one’s freedom, is overcast by the image of the moving spectacle of capitalism, where around the corner you turn, will be glaring in the highlight the capitulated, a sign of monetary distraction where you too can also become representative of something you never represented or knew existed.
This – the moving image – is moving, it follows you, then you follow it, then you look out for it, even though it is not looking out for you, for this is the invisible invincible.
Science has moved in mysterious ways, it has also found its way below the carpet of its admirer, for it is the snake of life. It is not for shedding its skin, its bite is that of the deepest cut, where even the blood of its prey has changed colour, for it is not human anymore, it is a machine.
You are the ghost within your own machine, scare yourself wisely.
Hi, I am Sherman Wright 47yo. I am from Ballymena Co Antrim in the North of Ireland. I am currently a 3rd Year Bachelor of Arts (Joint Hons) Film, Media and Journalism student at the great University of Stirling in Scotland. I simply enjoy writing about sport and non-fiction which I have been studying very hard this year during the Magazine Journalism module of my joint honours degree. Having studied Ernest Hemingway, Gay Talese, Truman Capote, Jack Kerouac, Joan Didion and their fantastic style of writing, I am totally inspired by their inspirational creativity. I have become so amused by this genius form of descriptive art that I literally write about a trip on the bus into town just to see if I can gain that stimulus required to be able to say "I am really happy with that and my writing is getting better." The feeling I get from trying to write a better story, by way of format, than my last scribe, is something that I need ......... I need that personal victory. I aspire to better my writing and that for me means everything. One day I will write an autobiography, and it will sell. Once upon a time in Ballymena.