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It was day. Alex Kistler brought the last of his moving boxes into his new apartment. Caleb had helped him with the couch and heavier furniture earlier. There was a closet right by the front door which he hadn't noticed when the property manager showed him the place.
Bonus!, he thought to himself with a smile. He hung his one winter coat in there, rolled his vacuum cleaner in as well, and called it a night. When he woke the next day he set everything up and organized his new place. After that he went for the vacuum but upon opening the closet, he was surprised to find it completely empty. No vacuum. No coat.
I could have sworn I put those things in here, he thought.
But Alex was constantly misplacing and losing things, and dismissed the confusion as his mind playing tricks on him as a side effect of heavy marijuana use. He left for his night time job. He came home late that night and decided to throw his three pairs of sneakers into the closet by the door, out of the way of everything. He went to bed. When he went to put his sneakers on the next day he found the closet completely empty. This not only shocked Alex, but angered him. He searched every inch of his apartment and car, but found no sneaker, vacuum or coat.
"What the fuck is going on?!" he shouted as he kicked at the air. He was quite embarrassed going into the "Shoe Show" with only socks on his feet to buy new shoes. That night, before bed he put his Monopoly board game into the closet, as an experiment. The next morning - empty closet. He inspected the closet for some loose panel or trapdoor. Nothing. He made a video with his phone of him putting some old clothes into the closet, and videoed the opening of the empty closet the next day. But all of his friends that he showed thought it was a lame, unthought-out joke. He couldn't prove that he didn't empty the closet himself.
He put nothing in the closet for a week. This is when Alex was greeted by friendly, hungry, stray cat. He gained the cat's trust with a bowl of milk and managed to wrangle the cute little feline into his apartment. That night he put the cat into the closet with a bowl of milk.
The next day he hurried to the closet door. He pulled the door open to see a strange landscape as far as the eye could see, with no sky. It was dimly lit by what seemed like a red fire. In the distance, he could see human figures being mutilated and torn apart by horrific creatures that were certainly not of this world. He couldn't believe his eyes, and tried to shut the door, but that's when a clawed hand as big as Alex's head reached from inside the doorway and clutched his neck. The hideous, goat-like, horned head that he saw next spoke to him in a low-pitched voice that sounded like an animal speaking English.
"We've been waiting for you."
And then Alex was pulled in, and the closet door shut behind him.
THE END...But not for Alex.
Gus Romero IV
To Purchase A Piece Direct From The Artist
Steven Lee Matz
What Is Art World?
The established order of the museums and galleries is crashing. Their light and influence diminish, and all that is left are memories of what once was. What was once the heart beat of society has become commercialized and commodified under the parasitic cultural umbrella of Art World.
To understand it we must go back to another time not long ago, when the creative class had been wrangled into a self-policed gulag with the dregs of the upper class, always working towards some semblance of community or organization. Both ultimately did increase, which increased work. The harder and faster they worked, the more work there was to do; so, they handed the reigns of their economic and creative infrastructure over to gallerists and consultants. Galleries had begun as a tool of the age of enlightenment, they functioned as kind of cathedrals to art, where the wealthy and the learned could fully absorb if not appreciate the art. For in those days works of art were thought to have an almost supernatural quality and most were of the opinion that one did not need to understand it, but the mere act of being in its presence was thought to have effects on ones temperament, intellect and wellbeing, and in fact we still see this today where paintings or prints often adorn hospital recovery rooms. Many galleries became more interested in representing a groupthink aesthetic which left little room for creative individuality, all in the pursuit of the bottom line. This bottom line turned many such establishments into dens of vipers, the gallerists and consultants metaphorical (if not literal) foxes running amok in the proverbial hen house, and many a patron were in fact parasites and predators. The exact history of the decline of the creative class is difficult to pin down, but its effects are not. Many were and still are forced to work odd jobs for very little, sweating in kitchens or sitting solitary under fluorescent bulbs in windowless gray cubes most of their waking hours (most of their lives), trying to hear silence through the ever-present hum of mechanized garble. Executing precise movements on a keyboard to manipulate the obsolescent sigils of commerce which had no real value to them, subconsciously panicked by the typical pervasive multitude of life anxieties, just so they could pay exorbitant entry and exhibition fees to the galleries to pursue the vision they had for themselves and the world. All the while pitted against a hostile dynamic complex of simultaneous coercion and persuasion perpetrated by a twisted and decadent system ruled by elitist politics and various allegiances, they have been taught to accept by that most laughable of institutions Art School. A constant force-fed rounding up of the herd is provided to us courtesy of social media, propaganda or the wholesale dissemination of the state condoned archetypes. All of which conditions us further still and we accept the chains of credit that has condemned the majority of the creative class to the corporate console, and ultimately their own imprisonment within the 9-5 system of NO THINK. Would they have done this if instead they could have pursued their visions and dreams unencumbered by the imprisonment of a forty-hour work week due to the greed of the galleries? Not in use as cogs in their machine? Their art free of societal or commercial programming and fabricated goals, just so it can hang on the gallery wall and hopefully be bought? All these mentalities and attitudes of careerism and capital gain have become the heart of Art World as they have so many facets of commerce and industry. Subsistence, at the very least for the true creative class/The New World Creative (NWC), was what Art World claimed to provide to any hard-working artist. Such a luxury would be welcomed (but much like the proverbial carrot which is so often dangled in front of the horse, it is seldom delivered and only saved for the chosen few) compared to the luxuries afforded us through working within this system until now.
At present time creative minds are transformed into information-processors and satellites for agendas of artistic substitution. We have Devolved into serving machines; processing pop culture reality into binary code and computer logic data, and regurgitating it back into our Art. We are used more and more as either translators or the human avatar of the machine, that is, as interfaces between computerized systems. Too many of you are led by the nose of what is in vogue! Society in large is divided into labels and sectors; police, doctors and most gallerists are identical in their regalia, their speech is scripted by other administrators of the program, they are expected to do their work starting at X time, ending at Y time, and resting at Z time so they may continue to operate efficiently. The same expectations, with respect to what produces the result, are placed on every aspect of society and we are supposed to be actors in the commercial that is meant to define us. Make no mistake: you and I are little more than pawns to the upper echelon of this established order of things. Our art is looked upon as trinkets, baubles, or pretty pictures to decorate the courts of the modern aristocracy. To them we are merely workers, our work little more than objects for their amusement!
Art World uses artists, artists don’t use Art World. It is not any single isolated institution, it is a unified system of relationships between elements and systems. Those who claim that Art World is a "neutral tool" or that it is an accumulation of independent galleries, museums, public events and institutions to be picked through selectively, fail to realize that the symbiosis of the system itself is a metaphysical whole. That it is an expression of organization, and therefore can only direct itself toward higher order, increased centralized control, and the inevitable degradation of the true creative class which it undermines and represses at every turn. In short, it has been reduced to little more than just another commercial industry. The metabolic flow of the market must speed faster, fueled by the martyrdom of the visionaries and seekers who are too often kept at the bottom of the pyramid in this life, only to be lionized after their deaths by the same pretentious greed mongers’ that once chased them from their galleries all in the pursuit of total collectability. It is in this way that they build their next commodity, for every story you hear of an artist which was never understood in his or her own time, but which became wildly popular in death are all examples of created markets. Our art can always be more valuable, but it can never be valuable enough.
The first wave of this manufactured market mediocrity comes before us presented under the guise of the avant-garde, touted by critics with labels such as challenging or complex. We are told in so many words that if we don’t understand or like it, it’s because we are too shallow or just too stupid. It turns art into a pseudo-intellectual parlor trick which purports itself to be revelation, critics and the moneymen jump on the train and a market is created. Collectors and the media follow suit, and the vocation of the artist is further trivialized by this rich man’s game. The role of artist has now been neatly defined within the modern caste system of the hive-mind as a high-end loafer because of these tactics of trivialization. It is fast becoming a subcultural program which no longer computes in the greater scheme of things, and that which will not compute will not survive.
As for our work, so our play: both are a communication of our individual realities, our own world, not Art World. To be silent or uninterested is to be complicit. To apply their lens to your narrative, or worse their narrative to your story is anathema to not only the ethos of the NWC but to the creative spirit in general. Our mission is to free ourselves, not just from the restrictions imposed upon us by this obsolete system, but to destroy said system. We are starved for the next wave of real seers, prophets, poets, and madmen. We must once again become the authors of our dreams.
The internet has become the God surrogate for many a man, woman, and child. This cybernetic deity disperses crowds and clears streets, it keeps people lethargically chained to a screen. We now live in a post-physical era, inside our devices, estranged from our physical environments, displaced in a self-imposed corporate/governmental collective imagination. Never projecting, forever receptive and submissive to the commercial, capable of little more than high tech voyeurism.
This is not the case for everyone. There are many of you who say: "We want to live, to be here, now”. I tell you that if that is the case, you must realize that now is the time to put your xeroxed zines on the shelf, they are worthless in our current age of quantum communication and interconnection. We do not write zines, we chart new course in cultural engineering. The printed page is dead! A relic of a bygone era which in no way suites our current societal fusion of ourselves into our technology. If one wishes to affect change within the Leviathan of Western society, even if it is on a cultural level for it is this level which accounts for the base of what is to come, then one must create a lighthouse amidst the pixilated binary reefs of their illusory world. In fact, the accepted art of any era always has a kernel of foreshadowing of what is to come, the art of the underground ultimately works through the influence it holds over the next generation and in this way affects an equal if not greater change ultimately, which brings us here. The glow which now surrounds you is the medium in which we operate. We are the agents of change, the guides of aesthetic transubstantiation. The New World Creative is all of us, forever!
-Steven Lee Matz
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A great specter is looming over the art world: the specter of Inter|Sekt. For far too long we have watched the artists of our generation turned into a disposable commodity, bought and sold by the galleries, stifled in their expression by the tastes of the art consultants who purchase pieces on behalf of financially minded clients who want a "solid investment".
They have been amalgamated into schools, said schools are a device of gallerists and art historians to divide and conquer the creatives and free thinkers.
For we live in a nation which thinks itself to be free yet is not, they expect the same of their artists.
Our culture has been raped and plundered by the upper echelon, picked apart and sold by the same greed mongers who claim to be it's patrons. The tool which has most effectively stunted the growth of modern American art in particular is the clever indoctrination of this idea of schools to not only the art student but anyone whom even reads a brief survey of the history of art sees that it is broken up into these categorized schools; the philosophies of these various sects creates conflict, division, and ultimately destruction of the morale and submission to the established order. Thus rendering the creative spirit confused and useless.
This helps curb the rebellious spirit of the average citizen outside of the art world in other spheres of society.
Art history is a lie and galleries are dens of thieves!
Inter|Sekt is not destroying the schools or the galleries, we are simply showing you they were never real, at least not in a world outside of that constructed by academics to sell text books to art students.
The reign of the gallerists and art consultants is over when you want it to be.
From the ashes of the indoctrinated schools of every form of art shall arise The New World Creative.
-Steven Lee Matz-
The inter|sekt manifesto