postfuturist manifesto #1

Welcome to the fin de siˆ©cle.
Our minds are crowded.
We are lonely in crowds.
We live inside each other's heads.
There is little room for error.

We exist in a state of profound and precarious interdependence.
In fear there is unity.
We are afraid to go forward.
We can not go back.

The old gods are sleeping.
We do not dream of them.
They do not dream of us
We need not fear their curses.
We may not seek their blessings.

We have created the gods of our apocalypse.
They are mortal.
They die.
They are ever present.
They are not omniscient.
They are omnipotent.

The rhythm of the hum-drum beats a funeral cadence.
We are entrenched in the inherent liminality of the present.
By the ticking of the clock we are alone.

Logic is imperative.
All is contradiction.
We have no privacy
We are lonely.
We feel that there is no one like us.
We are legion.

We have taken the path more traveled by.
We walk the path of least resistance.
The passive-agressive shall inherit the earth.

We create our own demons.
We design nightmares.
We manifest anathema.
We dare not acknowledge the extent of our self-deception.
Truth is an abstract concept.

The dream we all dream is the dream of escape.
The fear we all feel is the fear of entrapment.
The memory we all suppress is the memory of violation.

We have colonized the dreamtime.
We have sailed to the island of mind.
We are united by our common dreams.
We are divided by our common nightmares.

Face the face.
Observe our archetypes.
We generate them at a thousand bits per second.
They bombard our retinas.
They assault our receptors.

We are the post-futurist neo-antiquarians.
We are bigger than we seem.
We multiply and divide.
We have accepted Armageddon.
We are always healing.

©copyright 1993 spelunkers of the collective unconscious