Since moving to Washington, DC nearly 13 years ago, I have found myself at the center of the post-apocalyptic zeitgeist. How was I to know? Moving from bucolic San Francisco, Baghdad by the Bay, I had no idea I was inserting myself into a perpetual war machine bent on destroying the original Baghdad. I created a virtual government agency, the US Department of Art & Technology, to see if artistic acts of mediation might be an antidote to the madness, but it only got worse. I then proceeded to plunge myself into a psychological journey through the Underworld of America, but I just got scorched.
I finally discovered that the underlying fissures of our dysfunctional world run far deeper than I thought, deeper than any Underworld that even Dante could have concocted. It is a condition I now refer to as the post reality. One problem is our constant exposure to the post-real worlds the media machine constantly churns and grinds for public consumption. It is here, an almost certain death-wish defines the prevailing narrative of our time, resulting in an endless stream of apocalyptic images that evoke every kind of nightmare known to man.
What is there to do? Keep your eyes wide open and enjoy the ride, it’s only the suspension of disbelief.