An advertisement campaign.
An anthem of self-destruction.
Transparency is a wonderful natural formation.
The age of hokus pokus is over.
Every image speaks its own deathtrap.
Space Oddity… Yes, we are an anomaly in the entire universe.
My instant reaction to these images floating around sits on a complex understanding of the human being and the doing, surely.. It’s an internal system for reckoning, maybe. However, as it happens, it’s my duty as the poet to externalise the processing logic that instantly strips the oozing layer of vagueness from the eyes of certitude. Probably, this ability is the most coveted asset necessary to be able to navigate the 21st century reality; an artificial construct beyond constructs.
Flagged… Deeply disturbing crystallisation of the downfall of humanity… this is a poxy monument for the diegesis of failure in every story, in every myth. Nothing else. How ironic that they can construct the image, but they cannot fabricate the sound to go with their scenery to full effect. The song is doing all the communication. It was an iconic moment in history, now plastered on a pathetic looking excessive ad, whose budget would have surely solved a few hundred thousand problems here on Earth. Damn you. Only a punter would soundtrack their shiny campaign with an anthem of self-destruction. You fucking morons!
Anyone who knows a thing about the Bowietouch and the song’s meaning, clearly knows that SPACE ODDITY here works as the VoiceOver, accounting for this ridiculous scene demonstrating none other than the hapless condition of being trapped in our own horrendous wiring; in greed and hubris.
This is the age of transparency. Every image speaks of its own tragedy, its own deathtrap… So, the audience, divides into two. Those who listen-see and feel with their minds and those who perceive with their arses through the funnel of someone’s ideology, advertisement as content. A void experience of life.
And as if by magic, those who are aware cannot be bought by the image-reality. Those who are the true individuals communicating with the sacred language of true art are immune to this inferior reality, I call it The Vague.
🙇🏻⚙️🌪 Good day to you from Satellite №9 🎬🎼