This Is Not Reality

reblogged form motleyglue:

“So about those Polar Bears. Let’s be clear; nature does not line itself up, all “raw” and “visceral” and hurl itself into our telly screens for consumption. It’sproduced; from the moment a documentary is concieved, it is contrived and constructed.

Okwonga’s angle typifies our habitual misconception and fetishisation of photo-reality as reality. (But this guy works in media? Don’t they immunise you against that on the first day?).  Reality, went. Ages ago.  And the line between photoreality and ‘CGI’ is pixel-thin, overlayed a few times and with a shed-load of blur to give the impression of depth of field.

(It’s all ‘enhanced’! Everything!! Look!!!)

OK that’s not so bad. What’s terrible is that anyone gives a monkey /polar bear/ whatever. Because in the REAL world, Cameron has left the UK floating up the Atlantic without a paddle, or a friend (except the US, but that’s ok cuz the dollar will never collapse, right?), and the inquiry into the really properly morally destitute media whores is re-opened.

I don’t subscribe to the theory of a singly masterminded conspiracy. But. When the media is so desperate to distract us from both what IS newsworthy, and from the stink of its own backfired distractions – with a well-timed soup of such cute fluff and contrived confrontation as would make Simon Cowell proud – the icky symbiosis of governance and media is horribly, scarily obvious.

The reality or honesty that I want from media is more fundamental than location or editing. If necessary, composite Cameron’s head onto some fuzzy bear cubs, and then lets have discussion and debate of something relevant to our interests.”

from “Fossil Angels” »

“…We could, if we desired it, have things otherwise. Rather than magic that’s in thrall to a fondly imagined golden past, or else to some luridly-fantasized Elder God theme-park affair of a future, we could try instead a magic adequate and relevant to its own extraordinary times. We could, were we to so decide, ensure that current occultism be remembered in the history of magic as a fanfare peak rather than as a fading sigh; as an embarrassed, dying mumble; not even a whimper. We could make this parched terrain a teeming paradise, a tropic where each thought might blossom into art. Under the altar lies the studio, the beach. We could insist upon it, were we truly what we say we are. We could achieve it not by scrawling sigils but by crafting stories, paintings, symphonies. We could allow our art to spread its holy psychedelic scarab wings across society once more, perhaps in doing so allow some light or grace to fall upon that pained, benighted organism. We could be made afresh in our fresh undergrowth, stand reinvented at a true dawn of our Craft within a morning world, our paint still wet, just-hatched and gummy-eyed in Eden. Newborn in Creation.”

Alan Moore

via ekstasis