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The Space Tourists

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  Description Space tourism. It wasn't always like this.  Once, Space tourism. It wasn't always like this.  Once, it was the realm of governments and corporations, colossal rockets and carefully orchestrated missions. Now, it was almost...casual. Like renting a campervan and hitting the outback, but instead of red dirt and spinifex, there were asteroid fields and shimmering space stations. Artist Statement This image explores the evolving idea of space tourism, emphasising the contrast between traditional views of space travel as a grand, state-sponsored endeavour and a future where it is more accessible and commonplace. The worn, rusty appearance of the spacecraft challenges the sleek, futuristic designs typically associated with space travel, suggesting a future where the cosmos is within reach for everyday travellers. The vignette illustrates the concept of space tourism by likening it to a road trip, where destinations like Kepler-186f replace familiar landmarks on Ea...

GODin Pot





GODin Pot


In our time of relative peace, there are those who will forthrightly blame others to gain ascension.
They seek revenge through blinded principles.
But it is foolish for our society to gain prosperity from grounds of wrong.
To gain via perceive threats is untenable.
Centuries of thought have passed and still our want to employ hate lingers.
That is, to stop others and to gain our wants through forced misfortune.
And as our inflictions grow in number so does our determination.
Us theirs and ours cannot be decisively contained.
The more our empowered profiles gain clarity the less our perceived enemy is defined.
Until our enemy has no humanity that we can describe.
Until only shouts of evil and defiance describe only our state of understanding.
Within this scenario of threat, our real purpose is deliberately camouflaged.
And us we and they can no-longer see and or remember what was.
This is how our leading few maintains normalization.
Scratch this delusion and you will see that it is ourselves who are actually broken.
Our way of life is the tragedy of which we will not openly speak.
Our cost of understanding is misfortune.
Our consumption of self-hate is profitable.
We hate them for solace.









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