the end
Overzero is about life after nothing.
It is the still morning after a bad dream.
It is the apocalypse that didn't happen.
Life without reason, existence without purpose.
Not fearing God or death,
It is both desolation and hope...
At the end of the twentieth century there was a feeling that all was either about to come to an end, or at least change
profoundly. The millennium came and went, but we were still here. The nasty little incident the following year, though
insignificant in the grand scheme of things, was a useful focal point for all our apocalyptic angst. It also gave us a
chance to bring the future into line with the popular Orwellian vision of it, thus raising a dilemma. Are we to look at the
state of the world today and assume that life will descend from bad to worse, or dare we suppose that there might be
something better just over the horizon?
Does our accelerated rate of change suggest a search for a better future in flight from the mistakes of the past?
Is this apparent change for it's own sake merely an addiction to novelty, or is it a mathematical inevitability?
Do we acknowledge that society's overcurrent has now evolved to the point where it is self sustaining and beyond
our control, or do we sabotage it and run screaming back to the dark ages? Do we drink the water or piss in the well?
make
it, break it, let it fall apart
micro poems, modern idiom
signs of the times
the unconscious collective
the beginning
end piece
addendum
asides
glances