How Would You Survive A Zombie Holocaust?

Charlie Brooker's Dead Set has fully infected me with zombie fever. Over the weekend i watched Rec (short for record not a misspelt train wreck) which is a spanish zombie/horror movie and absolutely awesome. You will be scared during, and you will be jangled after.

So after Rec i was affected enough to trawl the net for those top ten tips on how to survive a zombie holocaust. I was disappointed and annoyed by the results which mainly consisted of illiterate blog posts by deficient Americans regurgitating what they've read on another half-witted American's blog post. Therefore after some short deliberation i thought i'd open up the question here... And start the list off with some of my own ideas.

Primarily we have to outline the parimeters and define what style zombie flick we are dealing with. I prefer the 28 Days Later premise that introduced the running zombie and basically revolutionised the genre. This was controversial as many, including Shaun of the Dead's Simon Pegg, argue that zombies simply do not run. It is also worth noting that Danny Boyle and Alex Garland never intended to make a zombie movie but that's simply how the mainstream media construed the film.

I feel it's more relevant to our current digital epoch full of fast-food and instant gratification, to consider the quick zombie as a basis for our rules. In addition, if we prepare for the speedy undead it will be a lot easier if we're lucky enough to get the classic George A. Romero's clumsy, lumbering zombie. Yeh, fingers crossed. In addition, from what i've seen, even with the most recent projects, there has yet to be a self-aware zombie flick. By this i mean, where the characters, although scared shitless, know exactly what's going on. They refer to the undead as zombies, they immediately know to aim for the head and they are well aware that infection is possible through the exchange of saliva and other bodily fluids as well as blood and being bitten. This would be an interesting Postmodern angle to explore and could propel the story forward a lot quicker than previous examples.

What we know. Aim for the head. A head shot, decapitation, neck breaking, brain removal, take your pick. Don't be one of those dunces shooting the shit out of the chest, you're wasting your time and people will be screaming at you through their TV. Nobody wants that.

So, with that established now what? Weaponry. This is imperative, even if it only gives you a false sense of security, a weapon should greatly boost your confidence as well as your chances of survival. Yes, obviously you'd prefer a gun but it's doubtful they'll be lying around conveniently like an easter egg hunt. No, it's more likely you'll have to start off small scale, a bat, crowbar, or any blunt instrument. They're all good for bludgeoning undead heads. Jaime Winstone (schwing!) successfully uses a fire hydrant to repeatedly smash the skull of a zombie into a bloody pulp.

Clothing. It would be awesome if you could fight hordes of the undead in the Dark Knight Batsuit, however this is an unlikely crossover. What we know is this; zombies bite, they bite and they scratch and they spit blood relentlessly, only operating on some basic primal instinct for food. Lovely. So cover up all exposed areas of flesh, especially your neck. Im tired of seeing victims having their jugular biten out and then spurting thick crimson blood all over the polished camera lens, Davina your guilty. Rookie mistake! What you need to be aware of is the balance between protection and mobility. You want armour but you need to stay as fleet footed as possible. And for Gods sake don't have lots of jewellery and tassles dangling about everywhere, begging for a zombie to grab hold of and pull you close for an intimate moment.

An important addition. Eyes. During a zombie holocaust, if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough to survive for more than 5 minutes it is highly likely your face will become splattered with blood. I think goggles are always overlooked. For example Frank (Brendan Gleeson) in 28 Days Later, foolishly neglected this issue and soon after a single drop of infected blood fell into his eye, turned into a fast paced rage consumed maniac and tried to savage his daughter. Do you want that to be you? No, nor do i.

From Paris avec love and sans haste.

Paris. Beautiful architecture, Notre Dame minus Quasimodo. The Musee d'Orsay, a converted train station houses an excellent collection of impressionist art, Sigley, Monet, and another guy that sounds like Picasso, but i think is Pissarro. Sartre and Simone de Beauvoire turn in their graves as we pay 18 Euros for a Heineken and vin blanc in Cafe Flore on the Boulevard Saint-Germain. The Latin quarter is full of cool jazz cats and cigarette socialites sitting outside bistros in the cold, covered only by an awning and their lapel collared coats.

The Eiffel Tower glows with an UV blue underlight and sparkels on the hour, every hour. Vertigo must be overcome to make it to the top and stand in awe at the panoramic neon map that stretches out to the horizon and disappears as the earth curves round. Everything is reduced to light and dark. Walk up the Champs Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe, also spectacular at night. Sculputres of Renaissance warriors battle with their tackle out, naked and vulnerable.

Pigalle, the Moulin Rouge and sex shops stretch out along the south of Montmartres challenging Amsterdams red light district. Depravity in-house and out-sourced. Fat hookers don't intice and fail to live up to the images plastered on the outside of the bars. Still, horniness and hardons force a hasty retreat to the hotel Saints Georges. Debauchery taken home and disciplined.

The Centre de Pompidou boasts an impressive archive of modern art. Basquiat. Beuys. Picasso. Man Ray. Fishli and Weiss, The Way Things Go. Marcel Duchamp's Urinal. Humbled by seeing such significant pieces in the proverbial flesh. Right wrongs, count to 10 more often. The buildings insides are on its outside. Transparency.

Ride the river Siene and kiss under the most romantic bridge. Exhibitionists love to be watched by nearly a thousand different voyeuristic statuesque heads hanging over the water. The Oberkampf is uber fun. Fine dining and drinking to the sultry sounds of Amy Winehouse, Phil Collins and The Police. Shakespearian book shops in the Latin quarter. Smoke menthol Vogues, casting fashionable shadows. Berets, pointy shoes and over the top lapels, are all Parisian lo-fi haute couture. Rain wets high spirits as every tear you fail to cry dampens your heart further. Communication.

Croissants and pain au chocolat. Eurostar vs Eurolines. Ferry and coach team up to take on the train. Over or under the channel?

Blogging Isn't Dead, It's Just Emigrated!

Apparently now it's all about micro-blogging. Thank Mark Zuckerberg and Facebook status's for all those often banal one line updates on how people are doing, what they're thinking and who they're hating most.

Lily Worth is attending THIS / EXISTS - October 28th Edition.
Benedict Hampenstein is an anagram of Bent Dice, or Decent Bi, whichever you prefer.
Gideon Baltrus splashed out on some fuckin' Ricicles.

140 characters of pure genius. Ive got nothing against micro-blogging, there are many advantageous and even innovative applications for it. Like your boss telling you to be in the office at 8.30am tomorrow for an impromptu but very important meeting. Brilliant, thanks a lot. Im not a Twitterererer but im an advocate for new media. However when a friend posted this article on my Facebook wall this afternoon i was compelled to react immediately.

Over the last 5 years blogging has been celebrated, ridiculed and most poignantly, feared. When everyone got over the cacophony-of-over-opinionated-amateurs argument, the public and mainstream media realised the potential of blogging and its place in the future of journalism. Then of course it was heralded as this perfect conduit for regularly updated information that can be accessed across the globe by anyone with the means, and all the oldschool elitists of broadcast journalism started quaking in their chinos, anxious they were going to be shunned aside by the fleet footed young web-savvy bloggers. Now, it seems we've gone almost full circle and there's this hyped up hysteria about the end of blogging. I hope this is far from the truth.

The original pioneer bloggers and tech geeks are indeed upset that they're clicky inner blogosphere has been hijacked by the likes of Perez Hilton, and i would be too. The intellects and creatives utilised this medium to great effect but it's the sexually ambiguous celeb stalkers that get all the fame and fortune. Cheated yes. But this and the rise of micro-blogging does not spell some apocalypse for the blogosphere. It is true that there is a significant lack of community in the once charming blogosphere and amatuer wit has been ousted for professional tautology and a Google search will rarely deliver more than a Wikipedia article and BBC News page but there's still quality content and shrewd perception floating around out there, somewhere. It's finding it that's the problem.

Paul Boutin's article from Wired is the catalyst for this debate and an astute piece of writing it is. Just a shame it's posted on the monolith of all digital media blogs.

SEO not CEO, Search Engine Optimization and Keyword Kingpins

Search engine optimization, social media marketing, whatever you want to call it this is a hot topic at the moment and as Web 2.0 continues to evolve, more and more press and publishing companies are outsourcing to small agencies to improve their presence on the internet. But should they be incorporating these skills in-house?

In Layman's terms search engine optimization is getting your website at the top of the Google rankings. This of course can be simply bought at a price with PPC, pay per click bidding for keywords. But there's also organic or natural search optimization where organisations can employ a number of different methods to increase traffic to their website. Primarily they should check that their site is recognised by the major search engines remembering that Google accounts for over 80% in the UK. Ensure that not only navigation from page to page works but also that all embedded video and moving image clips play and that any links aren't broken.

Keywords make up a large part of the process, so choose wisely. Popular keywords can improve your site visibility but relevance also remains important. Charlie Brooker recently commented on the contrived placing of controversial and celebrated words in titles and subtitles of online content. Which raises the issue of journalists and editors compromising their content to best perform on the web. Although this isn't as much of a problem as some worry warts would have you believe, the important point is the expansion of skills now necessary for all journalists wanting to have a shot at airing a story. Print and online content writing are significantly different styles. Familiarity with the blogosphere, social media sites such as Delicious and general developments in online media are all essential. Without knowledge and practical experience in these areas journalists will struggle to find work.

It's true Google is largely responsible for this shift in the industry, but it was laser set in stone as soon as the internet became a mainstream source of information for much of the public. Plus it's Google who provide the applications to review website's traffic with Analytics and the performance of keywords and adverts with AdWords. It is a complete combination of creativity and data interpretation. The most adept team will have skills and knowledge across the broadband board and will not only keep abreast of advancements but set the trends themselves.

Crowd powered cloud computing sounds pretty dreamy

Out with the old and in with the new. That's the general consensus concerning media technologies at the moment. Television has gone digital, although it's going to take some time until it's fully felt. Fear and hysteria surround the future of Newspapers as content migrates online and becomes completely free. Why pay 80p? Well, I'd like to think of myself as rather traditional but the truth is it's easier on the eyes to read text on paper rather than on screen. The unnatural glow grates and constantly reminds you that you're staring at the face of a computer, so you can never completely lose yourself in the writing. Plus i try and persuade myself that i actually enjoy battling with unnecessarily big pages crammed heavy with useful information that absorbs my tea as the corners flap and dip unpredictably.

Still there is a lot to be said for the broadsheet and they certainly won't die out over night. On the contrary, they'll fight down to the last letter and more respect to them. Until we have e-paper like that in Christian Volckman's Renaissance the newspaper will have its place on our stands. Most have realised the necessity to be web-savvy and the Guardian for example, is the most trafficked newspaper website in the UK. And rightly so, there's more information contained in those cyper-pages than you could shake a Wii stick at. Jay Rayner had an excellent double page spread entitled "Is it curtains for critics?" Here he reviewed the issue of bloggers vs critics. The blogger, previously dismissed for their uninformed over opinionated ramblings, are now ousting the critics from their professional pedestals as we have seen many top journalists in the US losing their jobs. Now there will always be a need for expert knowledge, gained through years of education and experience but this present situation demonstrates how we are glamourising amateurish free content. Just take the colossal rise of Wikipedia for example. We are less interested in the wise words of a seasoned professional and keener to feast our eyes on the flippant views a snotty nosed student typing away feverishly in his halls of residence. Im all for the empowerment of the user but there will be no fickle substitute for investigative journalism. The internet is a tool and exhibition space that the old monoliths of the broadsheet industry must quickly become accustomed to or they face extinction as young guns spring from their ashes wielding blogs, broadband and a whole host of other digital advantages. Adapt or survive is the message for the elites that have been comfortable on their long established bourgeois thrown, never before challenged by the proles. Until now, the proles and prosumers with their new media technologies are nimble footed and swift minded, uploading their ideas online before the ancients have had a chance to proofread. Cloud computing, crowd powered media and other such technical jargon will have to be rapidly understood by the veterans before they're eating the rookies pixels.

Awe inspiring geniuses prove too much for pretty fan who backs away through the crowd, eyes wide and mouth open, overwhelming with purple pills.

Radiohead. 8.15pm. Its comforting to know your tickets are waiting for you but regardless there is still the quiet buzz of excited anticipation as you get off the tube at Mile End and don't have to ask which way to the gig, because the hoards of zombie fans are all streaming in one direction. Even as a "very important person" there are still another 3 phases of queueing before we've penetrated the fortified compound thats been erected in Victoria Park. Now we're in the main hub, slowly filtering our way through the masses until we find the VIP area. But its not all about that. No. Its about the brilliant gig Radiohead put on. And oh, did they put on a good gig, yes they did.

From 8.15 to 10.30 they had me and the other 40000 fans in their thrall, completely under their surreal spell. And so they should have, there was enough of them up there. Beyond the usual suspects of Thom, Johnny, Colin, Ed and Phil there seemed to be another couple of stand in musicians but it was hard to tell. They moved around a lot changing roles and instruments almost every song. It was refreshing to see this sort of flexibility and movement in a performance giving the session as a whole a transient feel. It was never static, it continually transformed, always evolving bringing the crowd in and pushing them out again like a child with a yacht in the wake of a wave. 

Thom's lucid dreamlike vocals capture your concentration without force and effortlessly demand your undivided attention for the entire duration of their 2 hour set. They lulled the audience into a trancelike unassuming state that provokes a sense of well being and quiet euphoria - the nearest to enlightenment a front man will ever inspire without falling off and feigning Buddhism.

The whole set took me on a journey of temporal atmospheres as i stood in my spot and let the band guide me through what can only be described as different levels of consciousness. From the reflective Pyramid Song to the seminal Everything in its right place, a strange ebb and flow took over the scene as we all hung on every word. Whichever woman said men can't multitask hadn't met Thom Yorke. The guys a music machine bouncing from guitar, to piano and finally climaxing on the drums - all while singing his pitch perfect heart out. Truly extraordinary.

After the second encore and drum kit crescendo we flock into the VIP marquee and stock up on free drinks, brushing shoulders with avid fans and the guy from Green Wing who looks like a horse and did the Barclay card adverts. I shake Phil's hand, congratulate him on the performance and thank him for sorting out the freebies. I can't help but feel a little dwarfed by the scale of talent im looking at but focus on not thinking about it too much. These guys aren't just gifted musically but their in-tune with the current trends and know how to release a seventh album - digitally and for free. This group is in-touch, online and still making waves. Roll with it or get wet.

Television Caters. Religion and fate create debate. Who watches the Watchmen? You are what you link.

Big Brother seriously scares me. Its gone beyond a joke to a sick experiment involving a group of misfits that almost defy stereotypes. Beyond the realms of Heat and Hello magazine, the extremes in that human aquarium are like particles colliding in a nuclear reactor. So i suppose you could call it good television. Religion came up again, which is always a controversial venus flytrap, between a male and female muslim. One was let down by the others practice of the faith. This sounds like situations everywhere but live on Channel 4 with the nation and Ofcom watching, im sure we'll see it in the newspapers, on the websites and all around the blogs tomorrow.

"Big Brother, broadcast on Channel 4. Ofcom is aware of viewer concerns and the issues raised by complainants. Ofcom is currently monitoring the situation and will decide on whether to launch an investigation."

Tue 23:39 Ofcom.org.uk 

The BBC iPlayer; initially i was very excited by this prospect but once i was presented with the options of what to watch i was dumfounded. What have the BBC broadcast in the last week that i actually want to step back in time and catch up on? Well, there is the news. And maybe the Apprentice? No, not at all, old news. Ok so what are my options? "Have i got news for you?" or "Top Gear" - yes, ok. Touche BBC, there is always Top Gear. As well as Kidulthood on BBC Three, which is about an hour and a half of brutal brilliance. The iPlayer's ok, the res on full screen is pretty weak and the viewing variety isn't really there. But for its regularity of video updates it proves some purpose.

The new Sky+ promotion. The fact that you can record a whole series, as it is broadcast over a period of a few months, with the simple press of a single button, is supposed to be some sort of incentive. This is why Americans are fat, because everything is too easy. But we are all to blame in the lethargy of binary reality When i consider this precognitive digital media that does everything for us, like externalising our thought processes with hyperlinks and directing what we watch via recommendation, i feel very chlostrophic. I want my associations to be my own but with the ubiquity of information entertainment i wonder if they ever were.

Broadband TV 2.0

Use8 put on this sci-fi shindig at the Jury's Inn discussing the future of television. Unfortunately it does't involve Minority Report interfaces yet but im typing with crossed-fingers. No, less radical and more as expected, the integration of the internet, or at least web qualities regarding multiple screens and smooth navigating through liquid web 2.0 looking operating systems.

I particularly enjoyed Matthew Huntington's name, and presentation on Open TV's new media interface with its margin menu and visual previews which encourage a seamless transition from simply watching content to discovering content. It's not an easy thing - to make scrolling through endless programs an exciting experience but Huntington nearly had me convinced. The navigation through the content could even be described as enjoyable, everything moves with an organic motion, fluidly sliding, fading and highlighting in and out of text and vibrant video. Open TV employs a user-created content approach to program recommendation, in the same vein as social music site Lastfm, so users can link one program to others of similar and dissimilar genres, depending on what mental connection they've made. In the arena of television this potentially builds communities around programs, actors, locations etc which could be an awful thought for some, but also a wondrous possibility for other screen lovers.

Now that usability is established (the general public know how to use social networking sites) usagility takes precedence and we see more complex networks of information opened for individuals to edit and contribute to. Hopefully we will see an increase in the potential for creation our own paths and hyperlinks through the data and ability to categorise the content personally rather than following externalised associations.

The familiar ideas of sharing, participation and all those popular buzz words associated with the Web 2.0 phenomenon were circulating around the room, lots of talk about "multi-disciplines" and "the end users interaction with the company and its services and products." A good question was raised about the nature of the metadata included in the service. Where does the stock data originate from and more importantly how safe is the information the users input themselves? These privacy issues are at the heart of the peering debate and so it would seem that the future of television inevitably faces the same problems the internet suffers presently.

Kristos Giourgas Illustrater Entrepreneur

I dissertate therefore i am!

Online, like in life, truth is a transient verb forever changing in definition, rather than a fixed noun whose form and function are permanent and capable of possession. As western society increasingly appropriates the virtual world, our experience of reality is brought into dialectic, a process through which our definition of truth also undergoes. In our present age society must be well aware of and carefully consider the changes brought about by digital technology, as our very concept of existence is put through simulation. Firstly it is important to define the word "true" Collins English Dictionary reads, "true. Adj. truer, truest, in accordance with facts; faithful; genuine." Notice that the initial search for the noun "truth" resulted in redirection to the word "true" signifying that perhaps truth is not an object that can be owned but an adjective used to describe the extent to which the subject or object is true. I think it only fitting to quote an online definition of "true." Dictionary.com defines it as, "being in accordance with the actual state or conditions; conforming to reality or fact; not false." This is problematic, how does one define reality and what is it to conform to reality? It is also worth noting that Dictionary.com defines truth by comparability to its opposite – false.

The interdependent semantic and syntactic relationships between signs in the semiotics of hyper-reality cause it to be the third order simulacrum model of the real, and therefore as a digital society in the era of simulation we should continually question our definition of truth inside and outside the virtual world. But rather than the third phase of simulacra having no relation to any reality other than its own, it does actually reflect the profound reality of the original but via a third order simulation, a completely new model, binary which overlaps and permeates the original era of the real with its simulated model. The successive phases of the image of reality have come full circle, from the original, to the counterfeit, to the era of the produced in age of mechanical reproduction to our current simulated epoch. We are living in a structure of the real which has looped round, back to the beginning and exists as a layer on top of the first. In the simulation of reality through binary code, the language of computers in which words and other signs are translated into a series of 0's and 1's, the notion of truth is boiled down to two opposites, true and false, 0 and 1. This leaves very little room for maneuver. For example if we look at the semantic relationship between black and white in more detail. Between the two we have grey. Grey is almost white, but also almost black. Therefore it can be argued that black is close to white. Yet it is taken as a fact that black is the complete opposite of white, the furthest from white possible to imagine. But through the syntactic relationship of the two it can be stated that black and white are seen together as two halves, parts of the same whole, only separated by their hereditary connection of being each others opposite. The only thing stopping them being synonyms is the fact that they are antonyms. This paradox reflects the relationship between our real world and our constructed virtual world built on binary. Similarly the word 'real' has multiple synonyms; authentic, existent, factual, genuine, true, valid, followed by the innate antonyms; false, imaginary, imitation, unreal. Again we have gone from one to the polar opposite simultaneously, from true to false, from the original word and its synonyms to the antonyms concurrently. Dictionary.com defined ‘true’ by comparing it to its opposite and stating “not false.” In this semantic fashion the original meaning, the "true" definition is far too easily warped and confused with its opposite and so the digital revolution with its infinite possibilities from just two signs 0 and 1, brings about new metanarratives that Western society is becoming accustomed to and is evolving their understanding of truth and reality around these new grand schemas of similarity and differentiation. As the developed world goes digital meaning increasingly lies with the reader, aura with the audience and so we are encouraged to play digital demi-Gods. But it is the very nature of the digital model, its binary code that reduces everything down to a simulation of bare necessities, two opposites, 0 and 1. Something and nothing. As author and audience interchange and become potential synonyms within the virtual world and hyper-reality, first life and second life existences do the same. Perhaps between our first life and second life there will be no grey area other than the seamless connecting facets. In the era of simulation our perception of reality is unconsciously doubled, by the real world and the virtual world and our existence will become a dichotomy involving both. As 0 and 1 induces a hyper-reality through simulation it becomes an appropriate media-scape for long term existence. In a few generations time our great grand children will see very little difference between existing in Second Life, and existing in tangible reality. This is not to say they won't 'know' or be able to define the intrinsic differences between the two realities but the way in which they distinguish the idea of living in one and the other and the social relationships between both will be of such an advanced understanding that their discernment of both will amalgamate so that they are intrinsically linked and naturally considered synonymously.

The Divine Rise of the Prosumer

In previous projects my attention has been focussed on the negatives of digital technology. I generally tend to concentrate on the ominous presence of computerisation throughout society. As we move through the precession of simulacra we have now entered into the era of simulation. In the last 3 decades our global economy has shifted from an industrial based culture with the production of physical goods, to an information based society where the collection and manipulation of data is dominant. The pervasive nature of digital media’s has led me to view interaction with such media’s as obligatory rather than participatory. I regard our surveillance society with caution, not the common hyper-paranoia but well aware of the value and danger of personal information to companies and the availability of this private data.

As a reaction to this, I propose to look at the creative possibilities that the digitalisation of media has opened for everyday consumers. With the development of digital technologies and the advent of Web 2.0 the states of user and producer become synonymous, allowing anyone with the money necessary for equipment, to become authors, artists and designers in their own right. In addition the internet gives them unlimited exhibition space to display their works.

I want to exploit the positives of digitalisation, centring specifically on the evolution of Web 2.0 and its consequential endorsement of the user. The virtual world online is the paradigm playground of semiotics with the constant manipulation and subversion of signs.

“The end of the obliged sign, reign of the emancipated sign, that all classes will partake equally of.”
(BAUDRILLARD, 1983, p. 85)

Sites’ content is generated by the users who are afforded as much anonymity as they wish; arguably levelling the difference between the bourgeois and the proletariat, though of course an idea of elitism still survives. This advancement of the virtual world has opened up the platform for the divine rise of the prosumer. Users are increasingly empowered and relatively free to do as they please online. Machinima is a technique where artists use game engines for cinematic purposes, manipulating game play footage to tell a narrative other than that of the intended story. With this in mind I will explore the idea of experimenting with existing online and digital semiotics and reconfiguring them for my own creative means expressing the above statement from Baudrillard.

The Digital Revolution will be Telekenetivised.

Media technologies continue to necessitate themselves in our everyday lives. The majority of the developed world relies on digitalism 24/7. Emailing documents to your boss from your laptop via wifi. Confirming boardmeetings with your peers on your mobile phones. Paying for your dinner with your credit card via chip and pin. Listening to Mr Tambourine Man on your MP3 player. All these things and more depend on the transfer of information via digital networks.

The paradigm of our time, the internet. The information superhighway has fast become the personal information superhighway, where we are willingly displaying our private lives for all the online public to see. Not to mention the corporations buying, selling, and categorising our data to the best advertising bidder. In the last two years we have seen a massive increase in cases from the web spilling into our first life law courts. Online paedofilia, information vandalism and employees losing their jobs after superiors have an unannounced browse on their Facebook profiles, are all prime examples of how virtual world causes are having real world effects. Second Life is facing tax potential because it is possible to make serious First Life money from the online Linden Dollars.

Real world ramifications from virtual activities. As the fourth order simulacrum spills into the original model of the real we are faced with a big issue. Not simply how do we police the net - a problem our govenments are still nowhere near capable of. But where is the line drawn? How do we establish an online judicial system that is and will continue to inevitably seep into our actual one? What is the difference between online racism, plagiarism or extortion, is there one at all? If so, is it dealt with online, or in the real world? The answer is both. But how?

In a few generations time our children will see very little difference between existing in Second Life and online in general, and existing in tangible realtiy. This is not to say that they won't "know" or be able to define the inherent differences between the two but the way in which they distinguish the idea of living in one and the other and the social relationships between the two will be of such an advanced understanding that their perception of both will amalgamate so that they are intrinsicly linked and naturally considered synonymously.

Terror Tactics: Binary words of warning

The more you read the news the more you realise that the news is reading you.

Not only do we have the issue that our own government is arrogant enough to gather all of our personal information in a central database that they claim can be made hack proof. Nothing is that secure, if it exists someone will find a way to break into it - end of. We've got ID cards and computer chipped passports. How invasive will it get, condoms with secret cameras?

Unfortunately we ourselves aren't that bright either. With the explosion of the blogosphere (yes i am aware of the irony here) and social networks we are creating a digital Big Brother. Facebook and Twitter, the social networking sites of the internet and mobile-scape are platforms on which anyone and everyone can communicate and share vast amounts of private data. Information is the most lucrative market of the 21st Century. Character profiles are sold to the highest bidder and the profession of data collector is an ever-expanding field.

In addition we have the regular passing of acts which allow police and parliament to detain terror suspects without any evidence but on suspicion alone. This law was under debate in the House of Commons to be extended to a length of 42 days. After 42 days of interrogation and potential torture people will admit to anything to bring an end to the ordeal. The public must not become complacent on these matters. Civil liberties are in jeopardy, basic freedom is highly threatened.

We've moved from an industrial society to an information society, the problem is that the digital model is a lot more vulnerable to manipulation and vandalism than the physical. But there's no point getting paranoid now, the information on you is already out there and there's very little we the poor lowly public can do to retrieve it. What you want to be asking yourself is this; how hard is it to disappear?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Philosophy

Only haters talk sh!t. Anyone who dismisses Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a prepubescent crotch tease of a show, has missed the point entirely. Not that a hot blonde staking vampires in graveyards isn't enticing, but the show is an onion with many layers that must be peeled to be understood. In the series of Buffy and Angel, collectively known as the Buffyverse, there is constant philosophical and religious symbolism. This book analyses such metaphors relating to classic theorists such as Plato, Kant and Nietzsche and dealing with ideas of reality, redemption, sacrifice, salvation and morality. Due to the inherent supernatural connotations the vampire, demon themed show has, this allows the producers flexibility to experiment with the subjects mentioned. I recommend the chapter that deals with Faith, the second slayer, a hedonistic nihilist who enjoys the violence and slaughter of the slayer lifestyle a little too much, and on killing a human she goes rogue and turns to the dark side. Greg Forster discusses this in relation to Christianity and Nietzsche.

Berlin's Derelict Beauty

Berlin’s club culture is a sneaky bugger, as are most of the places worth finding in Berlin. This isn’t London, with garish signs made of obnoxious neon lights. No, here you have to be in tune with your instincts and think like the strong silent type. Keep your ear to the ground, listen for the buffalo. Which way’s the wind blowing? Aha! There, that back alley that’s the place, I guarantee you. How? Trust me. This isn’t Christianity, sometimes having faith does pay, and in this case it certainly did. The first rule of Panorama Bar is; you do not talk about Panorama Bar. The second rule of Panorama Bar is; you do not talk about Panorama Bar. Im not at liberty to say where exactly this rainbow lit warehouse of twisted dreams is, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. This is not the sort of club you get directions to. Oh no. This is the type of Club that finds you, if you’re worthy. So, were we?

East Berlin. Ostbahnhof station. We stumble upon a working-class darts bar. A men’s club for hard grafters. We obviously don’t belong here and after a night of asking apathetic Germans, “where’s Panorama bar?” we’re sure to get no welcoming vibe in this incestuous pit. How wrong we were. The third rule of Panorama Bar is; don’t judge foreigners by English standards. We’re not in Panorama Bar yet but the host of this little establishment is more than inviting; it always pays to have a blonde with you. His German still sounds abusive, but there’s no doubt of his willingness as he encourages his mate who was happily propping up the bar before our entry, to fetch us some beers. But these aren’t just beers; these are pint and half glasses full to the brim of cool crisp Berliner Weisse wonder, all for just 2 Euros. Good stuff. After broken dialect on both sides we’re wooed further with some sort of regional liquor, a peppermint spirit that slips down the oesophagus like liquid toothpaste.

We leave. Our focus is impaired. That’s fine. It probably helps us as we fall upon our holy grail. The fourth rule of Panorama Bar is; digital cameras are confiscated at the iron door entrance. No Google images here. Word of mouth is the best form of advertising. Steel steps and corridors of peeling wallpaper are packed with paying nations spouting all sorts of gibberish. What was this building before its makeover? No, that’s misleading, more like a takeover. A forced intervention by some psychosomatic European raver’s on a poor unsuspecting abandoned building. That’s the beauty of Berlin. The intuition of artists and musicians to set up shop in such derelict structures as this and use the space however they see creatively fit. And more importantly the freedom they have to do so. No health and safety regulations here. No hard hats provided. Keep your wits about you and trust your instincts. When you walk around this city, day or night, in just a few steps, you can go from a vibrant, graffiti filled street packed with colour and visual noise, to a deserted, melancholy council blocks full of bombed hopes and dreams, empty except for the malaise.

We enter what must be the main room. The fifth rule of Panorama Bar is; you know it’s going to be an interesting night when you see transsexual strippers sitting inside speakers, pulling pills out of their panties. Quite a sight. The steady thump of European Techno pumps away from stacks twice the size of your average man. But there are no average men or women here, no ladies or gentlemen, just the weird elite of Berlin’s club subculture. And you can sense these party fiends are just hotting up. Wetting their appetite. The place stinks of smoke, brilliant. What a welcome smell filling us with nostalgia of old civil rights and public freedom. After the ban in England most clubs now reek of sweat, vomit and stale beer. I know what I prefer. Indeed we have arrived. We get our groove on and there’s a subtle undertone of unity and mutual understanding between everyone in the high ceiling space. We’re all here for a good time, and unlike in London we’re all going to help each other have it. After the first hour and a disco biscuit later we sit down for a quick rest and casually observe the human sized picture of a pussy on the far wall. Garish for the sake of garish. How Postmodern.

We survey the scene. The sixth rule of Panorama Bar is; the club dancefloor reflects the city streets – you’ve got room to breathe. You can move through the crowds without getting elbowed in the ribs by angry shape-cutters or egotistical businessmen. In the unisex toilets girls and boys alike have time for conversation rather than rushing for the tube and only concentrating on their individual destinations. The seventh rule of Panorama Bar is; don’t judge Germans by English standards. This war torn city has learnt its lessons from pissing off the rest of the world, twice. Perhaps if the Middle East conflict ever resolves itself or if Bush makes as big a balls up as Hitler did, which arguably he has but its less easy to recognize because of all the paid for bullshit these days. Or if English politicians such as Blair and Brown grow a pair between them, then maybe just maybe we in the UK can be as free and forgiving as those in Germany.

No time to get sentimental though. Orchestral horns chorus a pounding bassline. The eighth rule of Panorama Bar is; Gregorian chant and minimal Techno is a lethal concoction only for the most refined musical palette. And we’ve definitely got that. The tempo slowly but surely increases as we become loose of mind and tongue. Beer, wine, drop. Beer, wine, drop. Drop beats, not bombs. Drop acid, not bombs. Drop judgements, not bombs. Join in, let go. Limbs to and fro. The throng of people flow in the unspoken communication of body language.

The ninth rule of Panorama Bar is; it stays open until the last person leaves. The windows are blacked out so you forget about night and day. Time has no relevance here, only the subtle certainty of seamless mixing. One track merges into the other without as much as a hint. You’re in for the long haul my friend so stop clock watching and just dance. We break down the language barrier as the doors of perception open. Have time for humans and hallucinations alike. Don’t dismiss people and accordion playing panda bears just because you’re not familiar with the dialogue. Stop, collaborate and listen.

The tenth rule of Panorama Bar is; when a whole nation has been persuaded into persecuting an entire race they hold very little against unfamiliar foreigners, quite the contrary. Maybe all countries need to admit to falling into the darkest depths of discrimination, in order to climb out of the rabbit hole and learn to be open minded and less easily led. And it’s not that Germany’s still paying for its mistakes, not at all, rather it’s realised. It’s realised she has been stripped bare, economically, politically and socially raped – to be made a global example of. Therefore it’s evident that from nothingness comes everything. Rebuilt trust between the people of the homeland with honest communities who openly invite the eclectic myriads it attracts every year. This is why it has grown to be a beacon of diversity for artists and musicians, intellectuals and homeless, students and professionals, all like moths to the flame of its naked capital.

Costa Del Crimen

There's no moment in a mans life when he's more vulnerable than when he's got his dick out and is about to have a piss. Therefore this is the worst possible time to get your head slammed against the urinal by a coked up English thug in Costa Del Sol. Its my fault really, i mean who in their right mind drinks in an Irish pub called Shenanigans? Be you English, Irish or Spanish. But what does one do against a steroid fuelled fool out to prove a point. Knife? No, too Crocadile Dundee. Gun? No, too gangster. Mace? Yes, it's quick, quiet and i'd happily mace any poor bastard that tried to take advantage in the private sanctuary of the gentlemen's toilet.

So what is it about the South coast of Spain that attracts the rich and ravenous? Well, there's Puerto Banus in Marbella, the extravagent port, whose beauty is only exceeded by its extortion. And of course we have Morocco about 40 miles towards the horizon which allows anyone with a life sentence death wish to smuggle high-grade Cannabis and Columbia's finest cocaine over to these shores. Why come for the weather, which to be fair, is noticably declining thanks to the gaping hole in our o-zone layer. Or you could come for a hike through areas of rich, vibrant landscape with crystal clear water-falls surrounded by every lushous shade of green imaginable. Or the rustic, rural towns in the hills of Granada where the Spanish actually, God forbid, speak Spanish! Yay!

But no. It would appear that people come here to promote good old fashioned English patriotism, with football chants and talking to under-age girls with their crotches. Long live London pride. Sigh.

WORLD AGAINST WAR

Well, not a world, but 10000 people or so gathered in Trafalgar Square at 12pm on Saturday the 15th to talk and listen and repeat themselves. There's no doubt that the western intervention in the Middle East is a very bad thing but a cynic would say that having a minor protest through the streets of London won't change a thing. And they'd probably be right. But a wiser man than i once said that although at the end of the journey the pessimist will be proven right, the optimist will have a better trip.

No, Brown and Bush will not just pull the troops out of Iraq and Afghanistan because a few MP's and Victims of War ask them to, and the conflict in the Middle East will go on regardless but that is no reason for people to stop trying. When good people like you and I, who have no real knowledge of poverty, suffering or pain, sit back and relax into idle lethargy then the battle is already lost. It is easy to understand why those who have been directly affected by the violence in question will gather and march against it, but the cause requires everyone especially those who aren't affected by it, to stand up and say no to occupation. Say no to the probable attack on Iran. Say no to the siege on Gaza. And say no to constantly looking the other way and doing nothing. One of the signs at the protest summed up the situation. "An eye for an eye only leaves the world blind." 

With this in mind i think the war mongers like Condoleezza Rice need to remove their blood gluttonous beer goggles and remove the high-and-mighty military machine of the United States from the Middle East. We've all had those one night stands that when the beer goggles have worn off we immediately regret it and wake up with that dirty sick feeling in the pit of our stomachs. But this misdirected imposing of twisted "values"  has gone on for 6 years now and the headlines still read the same. When will they change?

They won't. But as Tony Benn said, the 2 flames of anger and hope will continue to burn as long as the rape, plunder and pillaging  of the Middle East does. And so we must all inspire each other to not be complacent and use our collective voices to be heard. If we don't the US will persist in enforcing their hypocritical democracy on the rest of the world.

PEOPLE WHO HAVNT - DO YOUR VIRAL VIDEO CONFESSIONS!

Calling all confessions, calling all confessions. For those of you who haven't already contributed to my collection please get on your webcams at the ready and read one of the scripts ive no doubt handed to you three times. Id like to have all of them ready for editing on Monday so get on it over the weekend. Sita and Andreas have already set a very high bench mark in the foreign languages division with brilliant performances. Plus a star is born in the Englishman Dan Stoneman. Like these fine acting specimens, we're going for believability people. So no obvious reading directly from the script. Take a quick minute to memorise the line and then put your heart and soul into it! So for those of you who haven't, don't be shy, have a laugh, pretend you've got an STD, and lets bring down MTV. "BRING IT DOWN, BRING IT DOWN!"
Thank you.

Client Proposal

These days, its all about who you know, actually its probably always been about who you know. It can be difficult to get your foot in the door of any industry and its invaluable to have contacts in positions of power. Networking is an important social and professional skill to have, i planned to exercise this at the Job Fair a couple of weeks back, held at the Jury Inn. But the opportunities were more like punishments, moderator for some Disney social networking site chatroom for 5 year olds, or another square eyed Second Life programmer. It seemed they were really scraping the barrel. No thank you.

However there was one ray of sunshine. I did speak with Aleks Krotoski, who is a freelance writer. Im familar with her technology blog on the Guardian Unlimited site and have enjoyed reading her work many times. We spoke briefly about the advantages of freelancing and what i typically write about and how to best contact the editor. She advised email, and although this does make the most sense, im always dubious about editors mass deleting the content of their inbox's. Freelance appeals to me because you aren't committed to any single employer. Now although a consistent input of work is never guaranteed, you are a lot more free to work in your own time and for who you chose. That's how i like it.

For the Client Proposal i plan to contact a number of different magazines that ive been interested in over the last few years. These will include, Adbusters, Vice, Volume Magazine, Philosophy Now, Bad Idea and The Guardian. These publications range from the well established national broadsheet to the underground press hunting for new talent. I think it best to spread myself over a variety of printed editions in order to generate a number of different relationships with editors and have a diverse selection of magazines in which my content could be printed. Ive also been in discussion with Kristos about collaborating on some work, he's illustrated a piece of mine before for the student magazine Show Pony and it went down a storm. Move over Hunter and Ralph, Zac and Kristos demand some space!

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream

This tale of savage overindulgence is in many ways a reaction to the failure of the 1960's counterculture movement. Dr Hunter S. Thompson and his Attorney travel to Las Vegas with almost every narcotic known to man, in search of the American dream, the Mint 400 and the Drug Conference for an unnerving amount of misinformed American cops.

What ensues is a sleeplessly intense 3 day trip involving bats and convertibles, casinos and polar bears, riddled with twisted humor, Wild Turkey-razor sharp wit and chemically clear observation.

Thanks to the media massacre of the 1960's Hippies, fear and hysteria surrounded drugs in 1971 America. Hunter wanted to find out what was left of those ideals, to push it as far as it would go, and see what level of freedom was left to do so.

This excerpt from the book is when the Dr of Gonzo Journalism ponders San Francisco in the mid sixties. The passage is thought to be so poignant of that era that its known as the Wave Speech.

Yesturday i had a Buy Nothing Day in true Adbusters spirit. Here's how it went.

Wake up - 11.00am: Alright its not early but its not that late either, it could be later. Breakfast consists of Coco-pops but i have no bread or fruit, buy nothing day could prove to be very unhealthy at this rate.

It could also leave me ignorant, i want to buy a newspaper.  Yes i know, im on the Guardian Unlimited as we speak but its not like the broadsheet in my own two hands is it?! So already ive established that buying nothing is detrimental to both my health and intelligence. Thanks Kalle Lasn.

13.44pm: Right, im here in the heart of it, facing buy nothing day straight in the face, im in the belly of the beast. Im in town! And its full of trials and tribulations. As i scurry through the south Lanes its a gauntlet of unnecessary wants and appropriated 'needs.' Every shop front shouts out to me, newsagents, retail, restaurants, pubs, bars, fast food - i want it all! Any excuse to buy a newspaper, shiny magazine or chocolate bar. What i really want, what my mouth longs for is a can of caffeine and sugar. I want some sickly drink to quench this thirst for expenditure.

The brightly coloured packaging calls to me like an evil siren by the sea. The vibrant designs of seduction pierce my mind with splinters of doubt. "I do really need an envelope today so i might as well get some Sprite too." No! No weakness. Fortunately i was smart enough to come out penniless. That was obvious enough. So now im in Boarders reading their magazines and books for free! Ha! Zac - 1, Consumerism - 0. But a war is made up of many battles and this victory is short and savory. As i paw another H.S.T archive the growls in the pit of my stomach become deeper, darker and much more foreboding than before. I should have listened to my GCSE History teacher Mr Kendall, "fail to plan and you plan to fail." Wise words full of punctuation as my stomach plummets, twists, turns and knots to remind me how stupid ive been not to brink a packed lunch. I can hear pitta bread and houmous whispering my name on the wind. Must keep my mind occupied, ill have to move on soon.

Ive yet to make it back through town and into college. College will be sanctuary number two with its water cooler full of free h20, and its library full of free entertainment. There i will be safe from the ghastly influences of the outside world and i can occupy myself with printing. But i don't think im strong enough to face the ugly temptations of town. No i must take a different route, through the backstreets, keeping to the shadows where the light of consumerism cannot reach me. I must go underground.

14.31pm: I made the stupid mistake of walking down Sydney Street in the North Lanes and i was of course bombarded with smells of baked goods, pastries, pies, bagels, baguettes and oh Lord - bacon! i had to practically sprint to get here unscathed and unspent.

16.34pm: Walking up Elm grove to get home accentuated the cavernous echoes of hunger so when i got in i put together a pitifully stale baguette of cheese and salad, and thats it.

20.43pm: Im home and have been now for a few hours. Home is safe and secure from the external world so full of sinful enticement.  Obviously a night out on the town os out of the question. No, ive got tortellini to cook, Batman Returns to watch and tobacco to smoke. Im worried though because ive developed an affiliation for Galaxy chocolate after my evening meal and alas i didn't stock up. Its ok, simply ignore it.

"Does anyone want anything from shop?!" Goddamn you bastard! I forgot this killer question. My heart sinks, my sweet tooth twinkles and and i have to swallow down my pride, my tasteless, insubstantial pride. Yum. Remember when you used to say "aww im starving!" and your Mum would shout "you don't know the meaning of the word!" Well maybe not but i know the meaning of Nestle, and i want it! To hell with fair trade Mr Cadbury i want you!

"Bourbon biscuit anyone?" Don't mind if i do. Ha! My quick fix has been granted, briefly my craving is quenched.

2.16am: Hopefully these are the last minutes of my buy nothing day. Unless i try to sleep but instead just fantasize about the lavish banquet im going to have tomorrow. Well ive done it, a whole day spent not spending, and it wasn't too hard. You have to be quite strict with yourself and make a few difficult lifestyle choices but anyone with an ounce of will power and Mary-Jane can buy nothing for a day. But what does this prove? I haven't learnt a valuable lesson or come to some profound realisation about the nature of consumerism. I resent it just as much and accept it as an unfortunate reality. perhaps if i get involved with the official buy nothing day then ill feel different, a part something. We can only hope.    

Dialectic diagnosis suburbia

Counterculture will never work because it is merely a reform of our current culture, we need to reject our culture entirely and start afresh. As Marx wanted to do with Communism, we must do with culture jamming. We need to rethink our application of media and technologies and reinvent our social and economic order. Karl's critique of the Unions can be applied. They were a step in the right direction, but in no way revolutionary enough, they simply redesign the cages in which the workers operate rather than break the shackles of labour power. It applies today as much as it did 120 years ago. The proletariat are kept subservient by ideologies, false consciousness and warped meta-narratives. 

This is the illusion the bourgeoisie erected by producing ideas as a means of exercising subordination of the working class. The workers are not people, just cogs in the machine. Their only individuality comes from their significance in the mode of production that is privately owned, therefore they can never function as a social human being in the outside world, purely a tool. They are a labour means towards a capital end. They toiled 12-16 hour days to barely survive and were still drowning in poverty and famine when they returned home each night. This alienation can be summed up by the phrase "existence precedes consciousness" (more depressing than Sartre's 'existence precedes essence'). A proletarian is defined by their social context rather than their essential behavior.

But can Communism ever work? Soviet history would argue no. People always have their own personal agenda which overrides the necessary selflessness that is required to unite the proletariat. Capitalism promotes egocentric materialists lost in self-obsession and further strengthens the wrong kind of individualism via bourgeois propaganda and hegemony - contemporary advertising makes fake promises of identity, self-definition, status and power through the purchasing of overpriced, mass produced goods. This state of affairs will continue to get worse until there is a breaking point where consumerism crescendos and the smog of greed, ignorance and apathy clears to reveal a lucid sky of working class clarity.

Unfortunately i don't see counterculture bringing this forth. So why am i taking a subversive attack on the MTV brief? Well, because i'd much prefer to take a socialist point of view where i can still exercise my imagination, than conform to corporate group-think and be another free instrument of ideas and labour power. Saying that, however, if MTV were to appreciate my alternative approach and want to offer me money for the idea, or future ideas, i would happily accept it. I don't know how Communism can ever hope to cope with the fact that human nature is inherently egotistical, let alone counterculture.

Were you raised on Ritilin and MTV?

MTV is a paradox, its only genuine successful period was signified by the birth and death of Nirvana, which unfortunately is probably why Kurt Cobain committed suicide. He was trapped in the contradiction of massively popular alternative music. It can't work, especially from an artists point of view such as Cobain. As soon as the masses are listening to your music to be different, it inherently negates that musci. Kurt didn't want to be selling millions of grunge records, epitomising the genre and making it the mainstream, his subversive style had become the majority music choice. Even In Utero (the album that followed Nevermind) which was very experimental and obviously meant to be inaccessible, made it to the number 1 spot in the album charts.

MTV televised music, which in 1981 was a brilliant idea, but the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. And MTV soon became a self-obsessed brand for the gluttonous consumer, and now it has very little credibility in Music, broadcasting, programming or anything - Kerry Katona has her own reality show on it - enough said.

When i think of MTV im reminded of Bret Easton Ellis's debut novel "Less than Zero" which follows a group of rich 17-20 year olds in the suburban dystopia of Los Angeles, who live lives of leisure and excess, day and night recreational drug use of all classification, and relaxed indifferent attitudes to sex and thier ambiguous sexualities. It is set in the mid-to-late 80's and they are certainly the disaffected youth of their day, they are the kids raised on Ritilin and MTV.

Bret Easton Ellis was in fact one of those kids and is one of the 1980's literary Brat Pack, along with his friend Jay McInerney (who wrote Bright Lights Big City) and Tama Janowitz. You can sense a lot of personal input into his characters, who are empty people, normally well aware of their superficiality and enjoy fulfilling thier vacuous role and take pride and pleasure in their easy life of born into money.

On a different note, an interesting link on the nature of advertising in our information age.

The Society of the Sensational

After watching 20 minutes of The Society of the Spectacle by Guy Debord i wondered how it compared to our contemporary millenial society, and i was thinking of this in consideration with Baudrillard's Simulacra and Simulation.
Now it occurs to me that the issues Debord brings to light about imagery replacing direct experience and mediating human interaction still rings true but in an even more extreme state, to the extent that we are completely emmersed in this unrecognizable Hyperreality. With the continual glamourization of everything banal, and vacuous, stemming from our empty celebrity obsessed culture thats given birth to a plethora of meaningless magazines, Closer, Grazia, Hello, Ok etc etc. And a Reality TV ideal that couldn't be more contrived if it tired. When our reality has been completely replaced by representation, that is itself true and relies on no other model for reference, we are totally lost.
The mass media and megacorporations make fake promises and create false ideologies that the public blindly follow. Everything is bigger, better, faster, stronger, a staged experience that is realer than real itself. We increasingly fetishize media technologies that in turn continue to necessitate themselves in our everyday lives more and more. We glamourize dark Nietzschen philosophies of nihilism with Fight Club's and American Psycho's. So much art, advertising, journalism and general reportage is broadcasting sensationalism globally and giving birth to styles such as 'infotainment'. These buzz words hold little significance but to signify the meaninglessness of our current consumer culture. Half a century on from Debord and we are now the numb Society of the Sensational.

D&AD AWARDS!

The D&AD briefs are like a tight pair of boxers on a summers day; they sound welcoming but just don't feel right. It occurred to me that this award masquerade is the perfect excuse for companies and corporations to employ thousands of students around the country for unpaid work and ideas. They're using our young, innovative minds as a free think tank, veiled under the guise of a national design competition, with prizes and respect as the incentives to do big brands dirty work. Well i will be no such spin doctor, im only pushing personal propaganda. Unfortunately i doubt the judges will be appreciate this antipreneurial approach, still victory is not only defined by monetary value, Persian warriors fought for pride, as will i!

After watching David Schwertgen's culture jamming documentary at Transmediale i was left with a rather romanticized notion of guerilla communication, much as i was a year ago when i discovered Adbusters. However now im well aware that Adbusters is pure hypocrisy and culture jamming is contradictory. It comments on the abuse of semiotics by large corporations, that are then projected onto the public, but it does little to significantly or permanently change the situation. Other than enlighten the everyday citizen to the paradoxical predicament, it really just adds fuel to the iconographic fire. But! Better to raise awareness and acknowledge the issue than ignore it and remain oblivious.

All this talk on the subversion of signs instinctively made me think about our current state of semantic dependent reality. We all live lives saturated by signs, symbols, imagery and metaphors, that together equate a world of reproduced emotions and represented experiences. Is our reality simulated to the extent of the fourth order of simulacra? Are we blind to the Matrix? Have we fallen down Alice's rabbit hole? Are we completely lost in Baudrillard's Hyperreality?!

With these ideas in mind, i wanted to tackle the MTV brief, taking a subversive angle to the given credentials. "MTV is a virus that invades spaces, disrupting, corrupting and mutating them." Brilliant! MTV is an STD! MTV is an entity, with 79 channels infesting over 167 countries in 23 languages, for 25 years. In the 80's it defined Generation X, now it describes itself as "the biggest youth media brand in the world" and is a culture in its own right. A culture worth jamming. "The environment that you choose for your virus to invade must be relevant to MTV's core audience, namely the young at heart who have a rebellious streak and like to shake thinks up." A quick guestimate would mark at least 50% of MTV's target market at having direct contact with a sexually transmitted disease; there's nothing more reckless than not using a condom, and nothing shakes things up like telling your latest conquest that they have chlamydia. Ahhhh yes, the infectious nature of televised rebellion. How will you broadcast your revolution?

    

Berlin Begins...

The theme of Transmediale was "Conspire" - dictionary.com's definition is; "1) to act together, esp. secretly, to do something wrong, evil, illegal. 2) to act or work together toward the same goal. 3) to plot (something wrong, evil or illegal)."

I suppose its obvious why most of the work did centre around or take the negative contriving angle of the term, rather than focus on the positive aspect of cooperation, and as a result i came away with a feeling of unease and distrust in the world outside. It would appear that the forces of the universe, the institutions of the developed world and the individuals in positions of power, are ominously controlling the remaining proletariate - us.

Another issue that became very apparent was the current media zeitgeist of a static scene coupled with a single prolonged monotonous bombinate frequency. During the festival this idea was put into full effect with dazzling success as well as hideous failure. "Valve - Membrance" and their natural resonance amplification seemed to relate to Jazz, you had to listen to the 'notes' that weren't being played. And the 7pm Saturday night Theatersaal session "Structural Poetics." It would seem Bauhaus minimalism is still strongly evident in the experimental art and music arena, or perhaps just back with a fierce and frustrating vengeance. Half the time you felt as if the artist was taking advantage of the audience, now no doubt more often than not there is a clear cut meaning or message to their piece, but i did find myself thinking, "are they literally taking the piss here and having a good old laugh on our dehalf, as we endure this farce?"

So, taking a typical critique approach to the work within the festival lets discuss what really turned me on and what completely switched me off.

I got most out of the conferences that were held, but rather than type up my notes, which would take a decade, i shall simply state that they'll clearly feed into my dissertation. I particularly enjoyed the seminars on "The Real Conspiracy" with Tim Druckrey. "Embedding Fear - the internet and the spectacle of heightened alert." "The Greying of the Commons: IP, the law and the steet." And "Web 3.0 - Conspiring to keep the net public." These lectures resulted in upto 7 pages of notes each and an absolute overload of information, extremely nutritious brain food.

DVD - Asian 3 piece musical animation installation. 2 drummers, Jimanica and Itoken team up with visual artist Takashi so that their drum kits are linked to live Flash visuals involving geometric shapes' movement triggered by abrasive skin, symbol and snare bashing. The Tetris-Pacman visuals directly reflect the nerdcore nature of the music being played. It was impossible to ignore the intrinsic link to DJ Scotch Eggs Gameboy gabba phenomenon. I think DVD have really tapped into a lucrative sub-genre here with their combination of existing visual medias and technologies and the style of their sound, that has elements from breakcore, rock, high-pitched electro, ambient breaks and just plain industrial noise. The more they play out, refine their style and develop their set the better it will become and this has potential to become an extremely impressive spectacle.   

Check out the funk stuff - Tourist Hotspots and Enigmatic Clubs:

Psychological Warfare and Audio Terror Tactics at Club Transmediale: 30/1/2008. 

The event "Sonic Wargames" involved an onslaught of abusive sounds reverberating anxious vibrations throughout an aesthetically interesting audience. 4 teams of 2 Djs each - if you can call them that - which you can't. A disc jockey mixes records and mixing records requires matching beats but all these guys had were intimidating industrial noises that instilled intrigue followed by bewilderment into the unsuspecting few. Even before the games began (another misleading lexicon, games imply fun, this was not) the audience wreaked of sweaty distress and odorous unease. When the warfare did commence eyes were wide with disbelief and the effort of trying to understand the overcomplicated display that depicted who was "winning." This was a great idea executed awfully. For such an amazing venue involving a to-scale wooden car crash and grass illustrations on the walls this night was summed up by the blood trickling from peoples ears as they tried to persuade themselves they were having a good time and they enjoyed the fact that eternal tinnitus was a good thing. There's Wrong Music and music thats just wrong.

Fear and hysteria on the Reichstag: 31/1/2008.

If you don't suffer from vertigo, you soon will when walking round the parliamentary buildings roof for 15 minutes, 200 ft above Berlin. The dizzying heights are not helped when you're being buffeted by gale force winds, trying to steady your DV camera in an attempt to capture and do justice to the stunning, neon night-scape that completely surrounds you. The nerves and nausea are worth it for the breath-taking panoramic views as your pupils dilate to take in the scene.

After the initial gut wrenching fear of somehow falling (which is near impossible, but that possibility is still too close for comfort) I steady myself and continue into Norman Foster's observation dome and progress up the orange peel walkway. I didn't think i was too affected by the uncanny views below me, and the crystal-like cupola reflecting the environment in fragmented frames, topped off with the concentric circle walking pattern. But that's before i glance behind and see Dan and Jon staggering, stooped over, knees bent and gripping the hand rail with white knuckles, advising me through hysterical bursts of laughter and dread, "Low centre of gravity mate, that's the key!" This instantly instills fear and confusion and suddenly i lose all common sense and grab the hand rails iether side of me, spreading my legs wider than shoulder length in a desperate starfish pose. This isn't low centre of gravity and of course doesn't help so i try to claw back some sort of logic by slowly sloping to the floor and to the inside line of the walkway. "Keep moving man, we must keep moving!" Cries Jon with a voice full of desperation and determination. He's right, and we progress to the top of the intricately designed but really just glorified, fish bowl, with a Rocky 1 style punch in the air as we reach the peak. What really worries us, however, is when we turn back to see Chris calmly snapping away, nonchalantly strolling up to the top.

The view is indescribable and at one point its all too much to take in for the human eye, i feel that seeing the scene through a screen mediated the reality of the situation, and there was definite security in this filtered form of viewing. But its not about safety when you've got the beautifully spacious Berlin neon skyline spanning out at every angle. The Sony Centre glows with a cool confident, icey blue illumination, and the Brandenburg Gate's presence is obvious with the eerie underlighting of Viktoria, the goddess of victory driving the 4 horses Quadriga. The Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Transmediale's venue is just about discernable out to the West, looking like a big, yellow lit Pringle hidden among bare branches on Witchly thin tree trunks. We marvel at this spectacle before preparing ourselves for the trip back down.

The first rule of Panorama Bar is you do not talk about Panorama bar: 1/2/2008.

After Hawaiian Volcanos and Tequila Sunrises even the most derelict beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but when you're not drunk anymore and cant find your aesthetic anyway, its Friedchicken frustrating. Apparently you have to work for your fix of Berlin club culture. After 2 hours of wandering around Ostbahnhof, sobering up and getting increasingly irate with the perplexing nature of the situation, we take another stop check, ask another passer-by and get the familiar dismissive look of ignorance and/or apathy. We are after all, English in Germany.

We meekly enter what appears to be a working-class darts bar, that has a real gentleman's club vibe about it, and the atmosphere of close knit cliqueness leads us to believe that we wont be welcome in this local establishment for local people. We're not really local are we. But don't judge Germans by English standards. Our new host employs his close friend whose happily propped up by the bar before our arrival, to show us a warm welcome with 8 coasters quickly chucked round. Followed by larger than life pints poured in equally quick succession and passed round the tired, thirsty and frustrated UK 20 somethings. This isn't just service with a smile, this is service with enthusiastic German jabbering and animated arm movements to accompany. Not only that, but these drinks are only 2 euros a drink and he spoils us with some indigenous spirit that tastes like peppermint and slips down the old oesophagus a treat. So now we're drunk we're ready to hunt this club down, we deserve a dance, and by God we're gonna have one.

So, what do we know? What we know for sure is this; very little. Panorama Bar is close, somewhere West, or possibly North of Ostbahnhof station, just opposite where we currently are. It doesn't help that it could also potentially be East, but lets ignore that fact. Our plight is further complicated by the ambiguous and unresponsive German public. Not even the native clubbers know where this place is, therefore we persuade ourselves that it must be good, or it simply doesn't exist and is some sort of sick in-German joke on unsuspecting tourists. But this is Berlin, there are no real signs for the good stuff, if anything's worth going to, its not visually communicated. Word of mouth is the best form of advertising. As the bouncers of Panorama Bar prove when they confiscate Dans digital camera on entry. Yes we have made it and the 8 of us excitedly run up the stairs, cheering, jeering and whooping as we go. Its only 1am as we enter the main room and you know its going to be an interesting night when you see transexual girls sitting inside speakers pulling pills out of their panties. Our Techno journey progresses from minimal beats with organic horns, very gradually as in 6 hours gradually, builds up to harder, darker, deeper basslines with a quicker more demanding speed. The mixing's seamless, and time is stomped away to a steadily increasing tempo. Now our bodies are aching, our muscles are taut, and we're loose of tongue and mind. Panorama Bar is a brutally good find full of savagely good times.

DJ Scotch Egg

Shigeru AKA DJ Scotch Egg is Wrong Musics gameboy gabba producer. The immediate idea that springs to mind is that of sentimentality. The familiar childhood sounds of Tetris and Super Mario obviously evoke feelings of nostalgia in the listener but Shigeru was vague and aloof when questioned on his reasons for choosing the first generation gameboy to be the catalyst of his music. He is not an academic and doesnt feel the need to justify his choice, and nor do the hoards of imitators that have jumped onto the Nerdcore band-wagon.
This abusive, ear-bleeding music has roots in Classical concerto's and Free Jazz. Shigeru referred to Bach for the use of single notes as opposed to chords, as Scotch Egg does with his single game boy sounds. Now the similarities between the two genres of music may be hard to find initially but become apparent after closer inspection. The Baroque style induces faces full of fear and confusion and provokes a dark, macabre atmosphere. Shigeru also finds inspiration in Free Jazz for the unpredictable narratives and natural instantaneousness of the music, how the performers vibe off each other and produce this organic and random arrangement of music that isnt based so much on beats to the bar but how sound progresses through the musicians.
Shigeru also finds influence from the minimalist sounds of John Cage and the delayed repetitious audio of Steve Reich for his continuous echo of one note, which in addition he related to the current Dub Step trend, and this fashion of long deep basslines can be traced back to Stoner Rock.
There were also elements of John Carpenter soundtracks from The Shining, Halloween and A Clockwork Orange, some very fundamental film scores.

“Ariadne’s Maze” Rationale:

In our current information age interactivity alludes to the empowerment of the user. The issue of control and freedom is a paradox in digital media. The user is bombarded with choice but through the very boundaries of media design the user is subtly observed and controlled. With the ubiquity of new media demanding our constant engagement how much freedom does developed society have? We must interact or be lost to the Dark ages. After exploring the themes of totalitarian interactivity and control in relation to causality and free will, I wanted to construct a physical environment that forced the audience to interact. The fact that the installation is predominantly analogue is a reaction to our present digital revolution and represents digital media’s coercive interaction in a tangible form.

The user (User A) enters the first small room in which they are presented with a plinth and switch. They activate the switch turning on the light-box maze which is concealed by a door and is now evident from the light emitted from it. The glow entices them to enter the maze. This maze is made of 8ft high light boxes. The process of an agent activating a switch that turns on a light represents the core basics of interaction. It is immediate causality, the user interacting with an interface i.e. the switch to produce a result i.e. light. This also has religious connotations; as God said "let there be light" and there was light. The maze itself is a literal metaphor for totalitarian interactivity. Once inside, the participant has little choice but to continue until they complete it. This is a physical interpretation of how media manipulate the user, through choice and is forced into interaction through promises and rewards. Hence with this installation the audience is seduced into the maze via the attractive bright light-boxes of the maze, which they themselves have switched on – implied user control equating user commitment. They're goal is freedom, beckoning the questions; when in the maze of media how much free will does the user have? In addition to the ubiquity of media in general throughout our everyday life, how much choice do we have with such engaging and demanding digital media? Simply finishing the maze and escaping the intense enclosed space created by the light boxes. On exiting the user now has a chance to climb the stairs to a low light observation booth 4 floors up. Here they are presented with another switch which turns off the maze light-boxes and simultaneously buzzes the next entrant (User B) into the small primary room. Now User A can look down on the divine design they have just experienced, completed and in a sense created though the turning on of the maze, and watch User B struggle through the same process; the creation of a spectacle, directly experiencing that spectacle and finally observing that spectacle being experience by another. Sign, signifier and signified. User A can now chose to be a voyeur or director, with the microphone linked up to an intercom throughout the maze over which User A can communicate to User B, directing him or her positively or negatively. This is the participant’s second reward; first comes freedom, then control from above; a small taste of Godliness, omnipotence and omnipresence.

This installation is aimed primarily at the Tate Modern. The Turbine Hall has 3400 square meters of floor space and 5 levels high, making it the perfect location. The maze itself will measure 40 meters by 40 meters and will be 8 feet high and probably, but not definitely be created by a computer generated algorithm. The observation tower is 4 storeys high, measuring 15 by 15 meters, constructed of steel and timber, as is the initial switch room, measuring 10 by 10 metres and 1 storey high. The budget will range between £10000 - £20000 and require a 6 man strong team to create.

As with the Tate Modern, there is no specific market this interactive installation is targeted towards. Any member of the public can enjoy the piece, the process of completing the maze and then looking back over it, after the helplessness of being trapped to the potential power they then have of controlling someone else.
There will not be any explanation of the installation on site. It is not important for the audience to understand the work, the significance lies in the fact that they have little choice but to engage with the piece, in order to experience it. The audience are required to use their imagination in deciphering the installations meaning. There will be a website and accompanying information where they can learn more about its contextualisation. I propose to create a complete virtual replica which will be accessible online for anyone to explore. This extra will be an interesting option for the user to explore the space within a digital environment and how their reactions to this version of the installation differ to those of the physical. However this will only be launched half way through the installations time at the Turbine, which is between October and March. This is intended to maintain interest in the work by authoring additional information available to the public at staggered intervals during its life span.

The Light Maze of Digital Media - Installation Proposal

Rationale:

The user (we'll call him User A) enters the first small room in which they are presented with a plinth and switch. They activate the switch turning on the light-box maze which is concealed by a door and is now evident from the light emitted from it. The glow entices them to enter the maze. This maze is made of 8ft high light boxes. The process of an agent activating a switch that turns on a light is, for me, represents the core basics of interaction. It is immediate causality, the user interacting with an interface i.e. the switch to produce a result i.e. light. This also has religious connotations; God said "let there be light" and there was light. The maze itself is a literal metaphor for totalitarian interactivity. Once inside, the participant has little choice but to continue until they complete it. This is a physical interpretation of how media manipulate the user, through choice and is coerced into interaction through promises and rewards. Hence with this installation the audience is seduced into the maze via the attractive bright light-boxes of the maze, which they themselves have switched on. They're goal is freedom, beckoning the questions; when in the maze of media how much free will does the user have? In addition to the ubiquity of media in general throughout our everyday life, how much choice do we have with such engaging and demanding digital media? Simply finishing the maze and escaping the intense enclosed space created by the light boxes. On exiting the user now has a chance to climb the stairs to a low light observation booth two floors up. Here they are presented with another switch which turns off the maze light-boxes and simultaneously buzzes the next entrant (User B) into the small primary room. Now User A can look down on the divine design they have just experienced, completed and in a sense created though the turning on of the maze, and watch User B struggle through the same process; the creation of a spectacle, directly experiencing that spectacle and finally observing that spectacle being experience by another. There is a microphone linked up to an intercom throughout the maze that allows User A to communicate to User B, directing him or her positively or negatively. This is the participant’s second reward; first comes freedom, then control from above; a small taste of God-like omnipresence and omnipotence.

Synchronicity anyone?

I was reading the first few pages of Synchronicity by Carl Jung, supplied by Andreas, and this burst out of me like a Ridley Scott Alien.

In our information based society we have so many more ways of recording reality everyday. Almost everyone in the developing world has a camera on their mobile phone, or a digital camera, or a digital camera on their mobile phone. We have the massive dessimination of CCTV, recording the publics every move. We have the explosion of "reality TV." We have the internet where people can constantly document their lives on diaries in the blogospher, or photos on Facebook and Flickr, or video footage on YouTube. All to broadcast to the entire online community. Now as we move deeper into the digital age we have so many, almost ubiquitos ways of recording reality it seems synchronicity is a lot less likely. Jung states,

"We are dealing with ephemeral events which leave no demonstrable traces behind them except fragmentary memories in peoples minds, then a single witness no longer suffices, nor would several witnesses be enough to make a unique event appear absolutely credible."

This was first published in 1960 when society was still largely industrial, so probably held more weight and potential for scope then, than it does now because of all the mediums and techniques mentioned above. Ephemeral events are no longer ephemeral when they are continually archived to be referred back to whenever by whoever. There is no longer just a single, or several witnesses, but anyone with a motive to look. It would appear that our digital revolution and surveillance society are killing synchronicity. Reality is recorded and chance is explained. Chance is no longer mystic coincidence but noted consequence. Acausal events whither to the triumph of causality and we again wonder to what extent do we have free will?

I went to sleep thinking about physical examples of forced interactivity, not so much metaphorical but more literal interpretations. I woke up thinking about mazes. Once inside the maze the subject has very little choice but to continue searching for the end, or die trying. Unless they're as smart as Theseus turning back is not an option, and they cannot simply switch off, they're committed. Stuck in a God-forsaken Labyrinth. They must continue. Our Postmodern society is stuck in a maze of media. Without these artificial extentions of ourselves we are cut-off from the world, we are lost. As every imaginable form of media increasingly appropriates itself in our lifestyles. We are obligated to interact with it constanly.

With the movement to digital media, the all-encompasing nature of it forces the consumer to engage, and dupes the user into interaction by alluding to control. But it is this very vastness of choice that traps us.

"With over 300 channels there's got to be something on."

And yet before you know it you've wasted 30 minutes idly channel hopping. We have structured options that demand attention, time and effort. There are indeed worthy incentives to attach ourselves to this media; communication, entertatinment, and information. But the devices and services that allow and realise these possibilites are necessitating themselves so much that society cannot do without them, we rely on them every minute of our waking life, and often more. What would we do without our Blackberries, Tom Toms and Wikipedia? Unless we have a digital copy of Ariadne's ball of string society is lost. We wander deeper and deeper into the maze of media, an electronic Labyrinth we have created for ourselves.