December 2025
really i want the internet
magnetisation/form
Lift Analysis
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
its performative
I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
not their contents