Prophesying Catastrophe Is Incredibly Banal.

It Is In Love With Its Limitless Horizontality, As New York May Be With Its Verticality.

You Need An Infinite Stretch Of Time Ahead Of You To Start To Think, Infinite Energy To Make The Smallest Decision. The World Is Getting Denser. The Immense Number Of Useless Projects Is Bewildering. Too Many Things Have To Be Put In To Balance Up An Uncertain Scale. You Can't Disappear Anymore. You Die In A State Of Total Indecision.

A Woman Spent All Christmas Day In A Telephone Box Without Ringing Anyone. If Someone Comes To Phone, She Leaves The Box, Then Resumes Her Place Afterwards. No One Calls Her Either, But From A Window In The Street, Someone Watched Her All Day, No Doubt Since They Had Nothing Better To Do. The Christmas Syndrome.

It Is Perhaps Not A Surprise That Photography Developed As A Technological Medium In The Industrial Age, When Reality Started To Disappear. It Is Even Perhaps The Disappearance Of Reality That Triggered This Technical Form. Reality Found A Way To Mutate Into An Image.

One Can Speak Of An Alterity Of Desire - A Paradigm Defined Outside The Tired, Tacitly Accepted Regime, But One Comes Up Short When Attempting To Posit A Framework Of Desire Beyond Available, Known Desires.