Pauline Hanson: The Senate Performance Artist | Escalating Political Stunts as Avant-Garde Art What if Australian Senator Pauline Hanson channelled her controversial political persona into provocative, escalating performance art pieces that blur the lines between politics and theatre? This thought experiment explores three 'Acts' of outrage designed to amplify division, nationalism, and anti-'woke' themes live in the Senate Gallery : "Swamped by Symbols" - Using altered Australian flags and props to critique multiculturalism, escalating her infamous 'swamped by Asians' line. "Burqa Bonfire" - A shocking mid-level provocation building on her real-life burqa stunts, incorporating banned slogans and effigies of critics. "Piss Off Pavilion" - The high-octane climax featuring a mock 'border wall,' loyalty tests, and red liquid symbolising 'taxpayer blood,' all risking her expulsion. Watch as we examine how weaponising ...
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
A Spoodle in Space - The Space Tourist Chronicles
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
-
How Cyborg Spoodles Shape the Space Tourism Experience
Space tourism has evolved significantly. It was no longer just about the destinations, such as the swirling vistas of gas giants or the fractured beauty of asteroid fields. Now, it focuses on the journey and the delicate balance between mind and machine. The Cyborg Spoodle, a bio-engineered companion, was crucial in projecting experience.
What our travellers held were not pets in the traditional sense. They weren’t physically real. Instead, they were psychic resonators with advanced AI capable of intertwining with human neural pathways, creating personalised emotional landscapes. Loneliness in the vastness of space transformed into a shared sense of serenity. Anxiety before a risky maneuver melted away, giving way to calm focus. The virtual spoodles acted as an unseen imprint guiding the traveller's psyche, providing a gentle current in the ocean of space. Our travellers could feel their love, touch, smell and warmth.
A Spoodle in Space
Blast off on a wild space adventure! We're crammed into our battered little Subi spacecraft, heading to the dusty outpost of Outpost Aurum. Our mission: to reach the ocean planet of Oceanus Station. Join us as we station-hop through space, in a calamity of errors, as intrepid space tourists.
Our battered Subi spacecraft, a relic of pre-Collapse Jump engineering, groaned under the weight. Myself, BK, and Katcha, the genetically modified spoodle with its enhanced olfactory sensors, along with enough protein paste to outlast a minor vacuum breach, were crammed inside.
A brand-new Brass Monkey cryo-unit hummed in the boot, our lifeline for the long haul. Our mission: a jump from Beagal's orbital dock to the dusty outpost of Outpost Aurum, a waypoint on the long haul to Oceanus Station, a planet known for vast oceans. Outpost Aurum, a rumoured oasis of functional grav plating, was our first target.
Beagal's orbital dock was a pressure cooker of recycled air and stale promises. Ninety-eight cycles out, a flickering wave promised caffeine at the Rumour Mill Stopover.
Spoodle, Spacecraft, Outpost, Beagal, Orbital dock, Cryo-unit, Jump, Protein paste, Space Station, Gravity, Vacuum breach, Scifi, Scifi Art, Metamodernism, Short story, Space Adventure
This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws. Distribution and/or modification of the artwork without written permission of the sponsor is prohibited.
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 ...
The Struggle for Authenticity in Art I want to speak today about authenticity . And about what we quietly give up to be accepted. We’re told that contemporary political art values autonomy . That artists are free. That inquiry sits at the centre of practice. But autonomy, in reality, is often something we *perform*— not something we’re allowed to exercise. Freedom is celebrated rhetorically, while legitimacy is granted only when work conforms to approved languages , approved theories , approved causes . Autonomy isn’t denied outright. It’s curated. This system doesn’t fail artists by accident. It functions mechanically. It rewards work that aligns with predetermined frameworks and filters out work that doesn’t speak the sanctioned dialect . Many voices are excluded not because they lack skill or meaning, but because they refuse to translate their experience into institutionally legible language. I’m not saying all excluded work is good. I am saying much of it is never heard. An...
Creation doesn’t save. Art stabilises. That’s why art continues after belief has died. Not because it promises something— But because consciousness cannot stop itself. The will to create isn’t heroic. It’s involuntary. A reflex. The art of futility A spoken monologue I don’t make art because it matters. I make it because consciousness produces excess. And excess demands release. That’s the first lie we’re taught—that art points toward truth. Truth doesn’t need us. It existed before our gestures and will remain after our silence. Art isn’t revelation. It’s a regulation. An overdeveloped mind can’t remain idle. Thought accumulates. Pressure builds. Expression becomes a discharge—not a message. This isn’t noble. It’s biological. Paintings. Texts. Sounds. Images. All variations of the same maneuver. Not transcendence . Containment . Once you see this, ambition collapses. Influence. Legacy . Relevance. These are metaphysical debts art can no longer pay. The work is finished the mome...
Comments
Post a Comment