I must break free Inside the pod, I arch and lash against the restraints. The hum thickens—translucent waves pressing me down. My motion meets mass. Sound becomes gravity. I hang there, suspended, until resistance teaches me stillness. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art . Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private FB hub: https://www.facebook.com/share/g/18ythpSXPZ/ You can subscribe to my music via YouTube Music , Spotify , iTunes, Apple Music and Soundcloud To support my art, feel free to donate via JJFBbennett through PayPal If you want to acquire JJFB's art creations as an NFT - John's Opensea NFT profile is https://opensea.io/JJFBbennett Copyright This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws . Distribution and/or modification of the...
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Driving in John Brack’s Car
Surrounded by death I was the only one ok
Pumping out.
And breathing in.
Ozone,
Sulphur dioxide,
Nitrogen dioxide,
Carbon monoxide,
And PM10s.
Traffic pollution is killing us.
Backfiring.
Afterburning.
Afterfiring.
Are the common causes.
Of running on richness.
Red Sky Driving
Punctuated by religious motifs.
And deeply superstitious thoughts.
The importance of place and time.
Curses, desires, potions, and talismans.
Refusing to see the danger at hand.
By attempting to overcome the gods in mind.
Driving with the Megalodon
Driving cloaked in and under threat.
Knowing how to survive and prosper.
Proceed into the world chanting.
It could be anywhere.
It could be everywhere.
Avoid and mask any risk of being blamed.
Substitute and shift their attention.
To covertly Inflict physical and psychological harm.
And they will believe in you.
Driving to Alpha Centauri
Once we were driving to Alpha Centauri.
Only 4.37 light-years away.
Once when we were thinking outside the box.
When we became vastly more powerful.
Once we finally released ourselves.
Through a fleet of probes.
Once we find a life-bearing planet.
As we transverse the great vastness.
Driving to Alpha Centauri Hands-Free
We know.
Our auto-drive to resource capital growth precipitates zoonotic diseases.
As we violate the natural habitat with abandonment.
Through our pathogen-inducing factory mindset.
Of continuous unlimited profit.
We have driven into an age of pandemics.
With an invisible hand called reaction.
To handbrake.
To force a capital disaster response.
Through oversupply.
Through supply chain disruption.
Through labor shortages.
To slow global production.
And to reset.
Until the next humanity threat.
Interior Space Assets
Production.
Trying to control the world.
And the people of the world.
Through consumption.
As the world continues to move.
The commodities continue to change.
Caged within.
Human resource and automation.
Cultural resources as assets.
Within their commodity status.
Chained to exponential growth.
As described by the grid.
And the predetermined trajectory coordinates.
Of profit.
y = 2x
Interior Space Fog
You can see the fog.
Big trouble ahead.
Caution Caution.
Danger Danger.
Your family is at threat.
The uncertain perspectives.
When everything depends on you.
Interior Space Passenger and Roo
Driving in John Brack's Car
From out of the fog.
And into our dreams.
From past dangers to the ongoing dilemmas.
What we chose to kill became us our future.
When it was too difficult to stop.
With no want to slow down consumption.
We sold inconvenience as the obstruction.
Death as normalised collateral.
Our road to prosperity is guttered with roadkill.
Video
As the roadkill proceeds.
From past wrongs.
Hidden dilemmas and white-washed histories.
Our future is not determined to be inclusive.
Not to be obstructed.
Not to be denied.
Prosperity doesn't trickle down.
Prosperity reinforced segregation.
Operation Warp Speed Alpha Centauri
Fractured visions driven by multi lateral public–private partnerships.
All out to acquire the profitable future.
By liberating scientists from the bureaucracy of their parallel universes.
To corporate bureaucracy where industry has the upper hand.
Situation - The Tempest’s Reflection JB , a spaceship pilot, has been placed into a cryo cocoon to revive and transform his life essence. Inside the cocoon, he experiences his mind as a "relentless tempest of clashing thoughts, swirling and churning, mirroring the furious chaos outside of the machine." JB also sees his older self trapped in the same transitory state. The Storm in my Looking Glass A cinematic close-up of JB’s face behind the curved glass of the cryo-cocoon. The glass reflects not the room but a "relentless tempest" of swirling dark clouds and lightning , symbolising his churning thoughts. In the storm's reflection, a ghostly older version of JB is visible, trapped and silent, mirroring the pilot's current state. Cryogenic Rejuvenation Chamber - Night This trapped specter is the true mirror of our pilot's current, suspended state: a mind caught between two ages, the man he was refusing to be silenced, terrified of the man he is about to b...
The Situation - Red Alert JB , a middle-aged mail spaceship pilot . Starship piloting JB is held not by ropes, but by the cryo-unit's nanoweave swaddle —a tight, absolute embrace mimicking paranoiac wrappings. This material presses against him, preventing his shivering flesh from flying apart under the centrifugal force of his panic. He feels a cold burn and constant helplessness sinking in. His anxiety is a crimson klaxon , a "relentless tempest" of warring thoughts. He is mentally back in the cockpit, but the instruments scream in an alien language; every light and warning signifies impending failure. His pure instinct screams ABORT , yet there is no escape route. Confrontation Rising JB is shown the war of impulses tearing him apart—the "lunge and the retreat". His existence is reduced to the strained gasp: "I live for fucks sake, I don't know.” Full Assault a Violet Firestorm JB responds with explosive, automatic violence, his lungs burning from ...
The hand that holds the glamour Between the flick of a lighter and the curl of smoke lies a story told in two parts: the hand that holds the glamor, Between the flick of a lighter and the curl of smoke lies a story told in two parts: the hand that holds the glamor, and the eye that chooses to believe it. The art of the obscure and meaningless In the realm of modernist art , exemplified by Eddie's deliberate embrace of abstraction and mystery , artists have increasingly surrendered their authoritative power of intent to a veil of meaningless vagueness, compelling viewers to co-create meaning from fragmented suggestions rather than receiving a clear, directive vision. Her scalpel-wielded dissections—such as her perforated self-portraits or obscured war images—eschew explicit communication in favour of elusive hints, as she professed a desire to remain "mysterious" and avoid revelation, thereby shifting the burden of interpretation onto the audience in a pseudo-spiritual a...
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