HUT JOURNAL

january

2001

 
 


January 10 2001
The big moment is here and we hang in space just like we always did. Destruction continues unabated just as construction does. (Difficult to tell sometimes which does the most harm.)


what is increasing interminably is the “feeling of being mired in the present.” I don’t mean BEING actually stuck in the present, I mean the FEELING of it seems to be increasing to some sort of terminal velocity--hard to tell whether it’s ME or ‘them’.
But I know that many people have that feeling. The increase in travel both exacerbates it and helps to further create it in others.. Very few people seem comfortable anywhere ... and especially not in their own heads.
It all creates also a kind of fatigue, maybe akin to what timetravelers would experience did they exist (but then we are all a species of time traveler; how can we be otherwise--it’s just that it seems to be a one-way ticket.)
The whole phenomena of the ‘post-modern’ is, in a way, an expression of that feeling of being trapped but of turning it into a virtue: trash art, abject culture, Venturi’s detritus/catalog architecture (the catalog is only the front end of the garbage heap), the final (or attempt anyway) solution to culture, to make it into a thin membrane made of nothing but code, evacuating

 

robert cheatham

 
 
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