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Thursday 3 March 2016

MACINTOSH PLUS - Floral Shoppe (2011)

Review by: Alex Alex
Album assigned by: Tom Hadrian Kovalevsky




In the young days of capitalism, I imagine, a pioneer capitalist, a Steve Jobs of the time, entered a castle after a castle and bought them, a technique totally unknown at that time because he had nothing as opposed to all the reality the castle owners had in the form of the servants, the paintings and the ghosts - and yet all that reality could be condensed into a pitiful handful of round golden, or later not so golden, or, even later, not as much round as rectangular, objects that carried no human nature in them but could easily absorb one.

I imagine a language in which “I have” can be totally omitted from any sentence. However dazzling at first, having passed a pre-intermediate level exam we firmly understand that “I got me a Macintosh Plus computer” is both an attack and a defense, a means of buying the castle by the owner herself to keep everybody out and to be ahead of time forever.

Alas, here's the problem of cyberpunk – it is not an art of the future, neither it is a commentary on the present (for art can not be a commentary, sports are) but a pitiful attempt not to sell, not to sell by keeping “I have” visible, paradoxically, by hiding it, as if “I have” does not mean “I have acquired from what little was there before”. The “Gravity's Rainbow” is a badly written book but it resembles a book so very much, being ten times thicker than your average one, the lady got herself a Macintosh Plus so, please, do not attempt to rob her of her belongings in a dark corner of a newly erected Berlin Wall.

Belongings all belong to an airplane crash scene. While flying we are free to choose the music to hear from the selection given. We are free (especially those who fly often and, which might be less evident, by the same airlines) to realize that the selection given is given to us for reasons other than we first thought they were. The people who do not fly, however, do not give a shit about random Japanese characters with which the on-board safety instructions are written (just to make the aircraft passengers think they can be safe once they manage to translate what's written, for they do not know it's not real Japanese, to keep them busy till their deaths,  that is). Those people who do not fly, they stand in the field with their mad dogs and their idols of Satanic nature watching the next airplane crashing and they will not be chasing for the remnants of Macintosh Plus computers but will be EATING ALIVE IN THE NAME OF SATAN THOSE WHO HAVE SURVIVED THE PLANE CRASH.

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