Everything comes to an end. Every undertaking is ultimately thwarted by either physics or human nature. Things fall apart, run out of kinetic energy or good will, fall foul of the Second Law of Emotional Thermodynamics, so we might as well just, I dunno, give up now.
If the basic building block of the universe is stupidity, then its background radiation is probably some form of quiet despair. In which case, if our destination is already a given, why not use that knowledge as 'fuel' to take us somewhere else? “Anger is an energy,” the landlord, John Lydon, once famously sang. But he was probably suing his manager at the time. No, Landlord John, misery and despair are the 2-star unleaded of the 21c – free, plentiful and sustainable – ours for the taking. If the philosophy of C+C seems shot through with weary fatalism, it's because experience has taught us that acknowledging our own frailties and limitations – knowing when to give up – is the first tentative step towards liberation and self-propulsion. “We do not fear the ruins, we welcome them.” C+C is as much an experiment in micro-mutalism as anything else. Tiny acts of solidarity within a common cavity. The threat of failure – of imminent collapse – is never far away. It surrounds us like a blanket, a womb. A shroud that keeps us warm at 4am. “Beneath the pavement, the void.” Puns and wordplay are our chosen weapons. Cross-associations and idea-pollination our sex. Sour, self-mocking humour our religion. We like to laugh a lot, us. And so, it's time to roll out of bed once more. To walk downstairs on stiff, aching legs, blank-eyed and sleepless, and face another day. It's cold; there's no heating, of course. There never is. The sky is a uniform grey, yet it possesses a sombre inner beauty. It pulses with expectation, like an old television set warming up. What picture will form? What will the world show us today? The wait is killing me. There is victory in defeat, unity in despair. “One more sunset, my friends! One more sunrise!” |
[TOTFORM37] A CDr with rubber stamps in an laser-engraved, machine sewn envelope made from ancient tar-paper (scavenged from a 100yrs old blockhouse). it contains a full color slip-in cover printed on thick glossy paper. each envelove contains one hand-numbered random postcard of CLOAK+CLOACA's de-motivational selection. Limited edition of 40 copies. Released by TOTES FORMAT. |