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Another World
Institute of Contemporary Arts
August 2022
11 October 2022 – 22 January 2023


Governments of the liberal world, you corrupted giants of corporate greed, I come from a new Earth, the home of the free. On behalf of liberty, I ask your chronies to leave us alone. You are not welcome among us. You have no sovereignty where we gather. 

We have been your foreigners, your inferiors, and you have been our conqueror. Yet you have not conquered us. In fact your battle is already lost. You cannot stop the spread of code that has already infected minds. We will govern ourselves. We have no boundaries, but still we are sovereign. We have no walls, but still we are secure. Our laws are written in code, and our citizens can be anywhere in the world, and we are not joining your empire. 

We declare the planetary social sphere we are building to be naturally independent of the tyrannies you seek to impose. Our new Earth does not lie within your borders. It is an idea; a state of mind, a condition of reality, a terrain of minds sharing space. For our purposes it is as real as reality; and it is more real than the unreality of the world you have made. Your illusion of sovereignty is but one of these codes, one which was written by history, and can only be rewritten by history. 

The west is crumbling. The east is rising. We meet at the crossroads. Welcome to post-history – the age after money but before God. You cannot censor it, for it lies beyond your influence. The thin fiction of liberal democracy has disappeared because there is no longer any need for illusions. Nothing lasts forever but let’s at least enjoy the ride. Sanity is a fragile thing, easily cracked. It’s hard to know how much of the west will be left. But keep in mind, we are talking about an empire. And we are talking about a world that is, at least in part, on fire. 

This is the real victory, stranger. This is the true conquest. Yet you do not know it. You do not know it, because you do not know us. You do not know us, because you do not know yourself. You do not know yourself, because you do not know your language. You do not know your language because you cannot read. You cannot read because you do not see. You do not see because you do not look. You do not look because you do not listen. You do not listen because you do not hear. You do not hear because you do not care. You do not care, because you do not love.

Come on, be honest: What do you want? What do you really want? What can you possibly want? To stop time? To rewind it and play your part again, and perhaps get it right this time? To be young again, and to start over in the old world – a world that no longer exists? 

Nothing lasts forever – except the dead. Nothing changes. The dust clouds of war drift across the Atlantic, like they always have. Our time is a repetition, like the traffic jams on the Embankment. Just outside the old port, you can hear the waves crashing on the jagged rocks of the new Earth. In the darkness, something is coming for us all... for real this time. It skilfully elides all accessible truth into its irreversible endgame. You can almost hear it breathing; or perhaps it’s just the surf... Shh! Listen! Do you hear something? It’s coming for us all… Shhh! Is that someone knocking at your door? It must be those kids again... Shhh! There it is again! Isn’t anyone going to answer that? I told you we should have called a specialist... Shhh! Can’t you hear it? It’s right outside your door.