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Designing Science Fiction...
r. Laporta (M)
santa monica
Immortal since May 22, 2007
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  • bcnaf’s project
    Designing Science Fiction...
    The course will be loosely inspired by the movie (and the book) The Man who Fell to Earth in which David Bowie plays an extraterrestrial visitor...
    Now playing SpaceCollective
    Where forward thinking terrestrials share ideas and information about the state of the species, their planet and the universe, living the lives of science fiction. Introduction
    Featuring Powers of Ten by Charles and Ray Eames, based on an idea by Kees Boeke.
    Dust and dirt rise, settle and spin on an empty lot.

    A massive city sprawls like an embossed array of LED’s.

    The wind is desert hot and pooling at a point where the ocean breeze can only look.

    Small barefoot feet walk on dirt that is littered with broken glass, small stones, and bits of city waste.
    A young feminine voice is humming a wistful tune. She is alone.

    A long rooftop is dotted with buzzing machines.

    The girl’s steps are both deliberate and playful. There is no sense that direction matters.

    The lot is large and open as a relic frozen between what was and what inevitably will come. The city is closing in.

    A man’s eyes are ashen. His mouth is bordered by full lips. His breath is steady.

    A structure is in the middle of the barren expanse. It has posts, transparent walls and no roof.
    It is furnished with an assembly of diverse remnants: a crib but also a tiffany lamp (for example).

    The girl enters the quasi-room as if it is her place- her center- her point of departure.

    A pane of glass is opaque then not then again- a breath’s residue.

    The young girl begins an elaborate ritual of preparing the space for some moment or event.
    She arranges and rearranges the objects. She dances, sits, talks and sings.
    She rips down the walls and rebuilds them in a frenzied, harried panic.
    She begins to wrap herself in plastic.

    The man smiles and dusts the floor with his hands.

    She attempts to pile all the objects in the space on top of her.
    She is suffocating.

    He lies down. Turns and attempts to find various positions to rest forever.

    She panics and escapes from her own wrapped trap.
    She removes her clothes.
    She freezes.

    He closes his eyes.

    She is terrified and begins to sing.
    Her eyes close.

    blackout
    Tue, Jun 5, 2007  Permanent link

    Sent to project: Designing Science Fiction Scenarios
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    “The light of memory, or rather the light that memory lends to things, is the palest light of all. I am not quite sure whether I am dreaming or remembering, whether I have lived my life or dreamed it. Just as dreams do, memory makes me profoundly aware of the unreality, the evanescence of the world, a fleeting image in the moving water.”

    Eugene Ionesco
    Tue, Jun 5, 2007  Permanent link

    Sent to project: Designing Science Fiction Scenarios
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    Tue, Jun 5, 2007  Permanent link

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    What was it? Does it matter? Does it ever? Sometimes it does. Certainly, there are states in life when even a passing glance alters reality. It’s the whisper a dying parent lays into a child’s ear. Was that the last great secret or another empty pledge. It burns a path into the viscous channels of our psyche and starts to massage the enamel from our souls. Sounds encouraging , also stifling, the memory forms another body that looks into our personal window. And if it lingers it can completely alter perception.

    Imagine

    It's simple math. Every person has two parents, four grandparents and eight great-grandparents. Keep doubling back through the generations — 16, 32, 64, 128 — and within a few hundred years you have thousands of ancestors.
    It's nothing more than exponential growth combined with the facts of life. By the 15th century you've got a million ancestors. By the 13th you've got a billion. Sometime around the 9th century — just 40 generations ago — the number tops a trillion.

    But don't stop there; keep going back. As the number of potential ancestors dwindles and the number of branches explodes there comes a time when every single person on Earth is an ancestor to all of us…

    1900 8
    1800 16
    1700 128
    1600 1024
    1500 8192
    1400 65,536
    1300 524,288
    1200 4,194,304
    1100 33,554,432
    1000 268,435,456
    900 2,147,483,648 (world pop. Estimate 300 million)

    That is you, me and he combined. All one. All now. All here.

    When the bridge collapses it brings humanity into the ravine. And we’ve all seen the images. We’ve all been housed by the confusion of irreversible circumstance.
    Tue, Jun 5, 2007  Permanent link

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    What if we started by unraveling the space between matter?
    Try to stop and build on the silence.
    What then?
    Who now?
    Why that?
    Is our essence tucked into the margins of our devices?
    What happens when we look to rebuild from the beginning?
    Our first breath, step, laugh, wiggle.
    Can we transubstantiate the form?
    Can we predict the position our body will rest on its last breath?
    Do memories shape the future?
    What happens when auto correction is wrong?
    The body can vessel pure knowledge but it’s protected by the skin- the pliable mask, the great costume, the final mask- scars, discolored blemishes, modified partitions. The code of time.

    Start over.
    Tue, Jun 5, 2007  Permanent link

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