This world I live in—this isn’t quite how I want to live. I want the time and space to think and read, and to look at and make things; I want unbroken days so I can write with a clear head; to reread your essay, to read myself into it before I edit it. I want to get paid a bit more for a bit less done better, with more care, and I want the same for my friends and strangers. I want to discuss what I’m doing and thinking about with thoughtful people; I want my work to amount to something solid, not scatter out in multitasked busyness. And I know it’s not the Internet’s fault—but where did my day go? Where the hell did the day go? I read a lot of interesting things, they seemed interesting at the time, I can’t quite remember. I have thirteen tabs open, twenty-one, thirty-four, it’s like I’m almost living in my laptop. Is it … the Internet … the Internet … not me … [shakes, collapses, palpating smartphone]
The universe of traditional images, not yet sullied with texts is a world of magical content. It is a world of the eternal return of the same, in which everything lends meaning to everything else and anything can be meant by anything else … Technical images arise in an attempt to consolidate particles around us and in our consciousness on surfaces to block up the intervals between them in an attempt to make elements such as photons and electrons, on one hand, and bits of information, on the other, into images.
“The Electric Information Age Book explores the nine-year window of mass-market publishing in the sixties and seventies when formerly backstage players—designers, graphic artists, editors—stepped into the spotlight to produce a series of exceptional books. Aimed squarely at the young media-savvy consumers of the ‘Electronic Information Age,’ these small, inexpensive paperbacks aimed to bring the ideas of contemporary thinkers like Marshall McLuhan, R. Buckminster Fuller, Herman Kahn, and Carl Sagan to the masses.”
“Slow down the internet. Like ‘Don’t be evil’ for Google, this was our guiding slogan. To be clear, we didn’t coin it out of nostalgia for the modem blips of the dial-up era. Nor were we pointing toward the saboteur aesthetics of pioneering Net artists like the duo Jodi, who have made a career of exploiting the internet’s glitches. Rather, we were speaking as readers.”—From Triple Canopy’s “The Binder and the Server” (lead authored by senior editor Colby Chamberlain) in the latest issue of Art Journal.
Above: Josh Kline, Fashion PR’s Hand with Blackberry (Cynthia Leung), 2011, pigmented silicone. Photograph by Joerg Lohse, provided by 47 Canal.
Saturday, Nov 26, 2011, at 6pm, at KW Institute for Contemporary Art in Berlin