Akiya Kageichi
Indira Gilgamesh looked on in wonder as they drape their Grief in the blood-stained flag that had been so instrumental in the genocide of their children. She wonders if it is ignorance of history that has so numbed people to the lie of patriotism, a lie that allows them to represent themselves at sports events as if they are going to war; a lie that allows them to believe that they, and those who represent them, are innocent of the causes for their immediate grief and indeed for the widespread grief of global war.
Is it ignorance of history or merely ignorance of the fact that history, as it is taught to them, is a lie?
Indira sees the millions, polarised under their flags, motivated by the lies of their controllers, their exploiters, their media feeds and social network bubbles, herded into binary cells of yes/no, black/white, good/evil, us/them, there to be armed with the ammunition required to keep themselves safe within their designated cells, there to be inoculated from the reality of their ignorant lives.
Indira raises the lens to her eye and presses the trigger.
The act of transferring reflected light onto a flat, photo-sensitive surface transforms the grief coloured parade of flag-draped mourners into images of honour and defiant pride.
Is it ignorance of history or merely ignorance of the fact that history, as it is taught to them, is a lie?
Indira sees the millions, polarised under their flags, motivated by the lies of their controllers, their exploiters, their media feeds and social network bubbles, herded into binary cells of yes/no, black/white, good/evil, us/them, there to be armed with the ammunition required to keep themselves safe within their designated cells, there to be inoculated from the reality of their ignorant lives.
Indira raises the lens to her eye and presses the trigger.
The act of transferring reflected light onto a flat, photo-sensitive surface transforms the grief coloured parade of flag-draped mourners into images of honour and defiant pride.
