képek, betűk

In every mirror, greed sits in the background
Our civilisation is a revenue generator
The outside world feels like a marketplace

So many things could define who we are
yet most of us see everything through capitalism:
competition, victory, greed, simplicity

Anything abstract, anything complex,
cannot be sold, cannot be promoted —
a bad product.

We do not need them.

So, slowly, everything was dumbed down,
flattened, simplified.
The key to success:
be proudly the stupidest one.

You must be a popular-shit-producing machine
And smile proudly
Write short messages.
If there is false information? Be proud! That is so Hahaha! <3
Keep repeating it, and it becomes true.
Repeat platitudes,
clichés chanted for decades.

Today, Ulysses could not be written.
Today, Van Gogh or Picasso would not want to paint.
They might become game designers.
Oh — wait. Those games would not exist either,
because without them, digital art itself would not exist.
Today, those avant-garde movements could not exist
that once lifted humanity out of the dark ages.
So where do we go now?

Today, Einstein would not publish
The theory of general relativity —
he would never enter scientific or academic life.
Instead of thinking,
he would work for an IT company,
or make podcasts,
and collect likes.

Today, rock music could not be born,
nor pop music either,
because there would be no audience for it.
There is no mass
that understands lyrics
and wants to rebel.

Today, most things are just a question of marketing.
Everything is market-based.
Everything is a potential product.
People manufacture the marketing of themselves.
And the most vulgar,
the loudest idiots
are the ones who succeed.

And yet Einstein has still not been surpassed.
Painters endlessly repeat
Picasso, Van Gogh, Cézanne, and other modern artists
or repackage the action art
of the sixties and seventies,
mixing it with light, sound,
computer animation —
sometimes primitive robotics.
Museums and galleries are like circuses,
they sell tickets, they sell visual stimulations,
And most art is just about money.

Of course, there are exceptions.
Maybe 123 people know them?

Today, even the science fiction of the 1960s
could not come into being,
because Lem, Asimov, or Dick
would have nothing to write about.

This is an era of decline
that calls itself a golden age,
where is any world beyond money
is almost impossible to see.

Everyone wants instant success.
Everyone behaves as if
they were a company.
Stealing ideas from one another,
speeding everything up,
using pseudo-artificial intelligences,

banal, stupid, plasticised people
scream into the online void,
repeating the work of eras
when something mattered
not because it was popular,
but because someone wanted
to understand reality —

or, as an artist,
to find a new form,
a new language,
or to rebel.

But that is over.

And just laugh and laugh.
I am wrong.
This is the Golden Age!