Education, Entertainment'n'All That...

The sky overarching the auditorium is a marbled dome ornamented with the mesmerizing web of neon orbits. Juxtaposed with the black–hole-word-black background, the shiny pathways live their lonely electronic lives, indifferent  to the world below. The space between these detached bright threads and the area underneath is half-empty, half filled with an invisible, silently buzzing, fluctuating ellipsoid inhabited by the content conveyed via electro neurotransmitters.

It’s dark in the amphitheater. Digitalized candles decorate the tables. That seat four. Porcelain ovals like half open palms carry a handful of dried rose petals. Test-tube vase opens its long, narrow throat to welcome the fragile stalk to sink into the watery surrounding and let it saturate its delicate roots with numberless clusters of H’s’n’O’s. Lateral tentacles like an underdeveloped reptile, floating in the dizziness of its own aura. Like a hypnotized machine draining the source, sending the nutrients to the vascular tissue, to the stem, to all thirsty cells. Pumping the substance upwards…all the way up…to the nodes. To the petals.

Flute glasses half-filled with bubblesque ambrosia. Faces lit with the light from the cell phones. Catching up on emails. From the plates, a subtly seductive smell of a rosemary, lightly garlicked marinade seduces no one. Senses are attuned differently. Eyes fixated on the mini screens of the cell phones. Eyes are the organs connected to the brain via a supercomplex biostructure. They send to the brain transcribed content of the messages. The brain decodes the message. The eyes send more messages. The brain responds. The hands hold the cell phone.  The faces are lit with the light coming from the mini screen. The bubbles are still. Floating along the circumscribed circle.

From the neon sky is descending a gold wire reinforced plexiglass ball. Its slow-motion descent is reminiscent of a dream in which the sun whispers to the moon the password to the gateway of the four winds empire. In it president of the college of deskilling is patiently waiting for the vehicle to land, the front of the plexiglass carrier to dissolve and transform into a softly moving staircase on which the renowned leader of the entrepreneurial world  is stepping down and approaching the speaker’s platform--a graciously built glowing body consisting of a single vertical luminous line.

It is my honor and, more than that, a pleasure to address this circle of dedicated researchers,   devoted scientific hearts, and acolytes of the ArchDeskiller.

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How it deeply touches my heart to time and again get reassured that the spirit of deskilling lives on is beyond the verbally expressible.  To say how such a sight fills my soul with the gleaming warmth of the primordial ember is to extinguish the heat of that invaluable coal fire.  To try to describe the bloodflow stirred by the knowledge about the thirst, soaking the air in this amphitheater tonight is to desecrate the holly of the hollies of cutting edge thinking.  In order to spare ourselves such self-inflicting curse, let’s greet the respectable audience with a simple ode to the utmost heights of the human mind…

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Tonight we bear witness to a singular occurrence of deskilling supported by the presence of the young minds from our twin suburb Abrëville. Ladies’n’gents, please join me in welcoming The Kids.

The Kid in the hoodie, a.k.a Purple (H)ortak among his fellow comrade chancers, slowly stands up and opens his lazy mouth:

Yo! All hail the unbeatable ex-halers, children of zarr(Y)e, the grooviologist. Waste our precious time we shan’t. Rather, let’s bizz ar(E)selves engaging in the savagery of broken beat kitch’n’sink deskilling. As always, we shall start with the invocation of the fantasticness of the mighty spirit of the unwritten Panapocalyptic Manifesto 25 E half all(E)y. And then the bloody plexiglass outburst…and then the staircase turns into a pumpkin chariot of fucking fire…and then the vase eats the plant…and then the bubbles erupt over the crystal rim…and then the marinade acid burns the salmon corpse on the plate…and then the silver screen transforms into white noise…and then cell phones petrify…and then the statues drop… and then the eyes are free…the faces look up…and then…the hands…the hands…CLAP!CLAP!CLAP!