Exaggerations with nothing to show
The Empress has no clothes
~ Icarus Line ‘Dead Body’ 2013
The Empress has no clothes
~ Icarus Line ‘Dead Body’ 2013
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| Codex Seraphinianus ~ Luigi Serafini |
Switching to the recorded feed, Peye witnesses the meeting with Ellie and realises that this is one of the rare occasions when Giles and Krystal simultaneously occupy the same room. Ellie’s tattoos have ensured that her face has been captured on the feed as a kind of shape-shifting blur of white noise; a water stain on the digital velvet surface of the feed’s reality.
It appears that her ugly leather dress is also somehow powering visual confusion as it projects a black leather-dress-shaped hole onto the cameras.
Peye watches Nikos escort the invisible Ellie to the guest room.
Peye watches the invisible Ellie check out the room for escape routes, her presence evident by the black hole dress; along with footprints in the super-pile carpet, the juggling of door handles, a shadow falling on a mirror.
Peye watches while the invisible Ellie takes a bath, a decidedly more pleasant view when compared to the black-hole dress, although the missing head is a little disconcerting.
Peye watches Krystal oversee the laying out of the dining room: table settings; lighting, cutlery and camera placement; all part of the domestic game.
Peye watches the dinner that ensues, cursing the invisible Ellie for the look of satisfaction that crawls across Krystal’s face, visible even on the crappy feed, as the deal is agreed
Peye watches as the recording ends in the present, all players scattered to their respective points on the map.
Peye watches as Giles loiters in the control room; a recess really; where the house’s aging AI lives; an independent but lesser offspring of Michael Caine.
It’s little screen flickers, presumably in raw colour, Giles’ weakness for late 20th century TV sitcoms plays out in the inevitable obedient laughter on cue in a world pretending to be dependable and cute. Peye gives the AI a DDoS nudge just to fuck with Giles’ head; the screen goes blank; the AI protests Denial of Rights (Non-human) to as many agencies as it can remember (most of which no longer exist, and those that do have long been occupied by cyber-squatters.) Old games that almost bring a smile to Peye’s face; the feed flickering in her eyes as she watches, hands behind her head, legs crossed at the ankles, her hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm.
She is slowly overcome by sleep as the scenes within the house settle into an uncomfortable inactivity.
It appears that her ugly leather dress is also somehow powering visual confusion as it projects a black leather-dress-shaped hole onto the cameras.
Peye watches Nikos escort the invisible Ellie to the guest room.
Peye watches the invisible Ellie check out the room for escape routes, her presence evident by the black hole dress; along with footprints in the super-pile carpet, the juggling of door handles, a shadow falling on a mirror.
Peye watches while the invisible Ellie takes a bath, a decidedly more pleasant view when compared to the black-hole dress, although the missing head is a little disconcerting.
Peye watches Krystal oversee the laying out of the dining room: table settings; lighting, cutlery and camera placement; all part of the domestic game.
Peye watches the dinner that ensues, cursing the invisible Ellie for the look of satisfaction that crawls across Krystal’s face, visible even on the crappy feed, as the deal is agreed
Peye watches as the recording ends in the present, all players scattered to their respective points on the map.
Peye watches as Giles loiters in the control room; a recess really; where the house’s aging AI lives; an independent but lesser offspring of Michael Caine.
It’s little screen flickers, presumably in raw colour, Giles’ weakness for late 20th century TV sitcoms plays out in the inevitable obedient laughter on cue in a world pretending to be dependable and cute. Peye gives the AI a DDoS nudge just to fuck with Giles’ head; the screen goes blank; the AI protests Denial of Rights (Non-human) to as many agencies as it can remember (most of which no longer exist, and those that do have long been occupied by cyber-squatters.) Old games that almost bring a smile to Peye’s face; the feed flickering in her eyes as she watches, hands behind her head, legs crossed at the ankles, her hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm.
She is slowly overcome by sleep as the scenes within the house settle into an uncomfortable inactivity.
| Icarus Line | ||
| Dead Body | ||
Thanks be to L.C. for the sleepy golden storm.
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