I studied it.
I eyed it through the lens.
Its presence filled, then overwhelmed the viewfinder.
It loomed over me, demanding attention.
The camera captured no more than a lie.
I play with the image.
I find myself annotating the intangible.
A shadow spirit walks the street still.
It has broken its bounds.
Cost per click.
I clicked on the small tab at the top right of the ad.
I opened a menu.
I found:
"Why am I seeing this?"
I wasn't really seeing "this" at all.
I clicked out of curiosity.
I was met with:
I find "myself" "interested in luxury goods".
"Manage your advert preferences"
"Take control over the adverts you see."
I am amused at the idea of "taking control."
I find a red heart, (my heart gushes) and words:
"Your interests"
My interests? I think not.
Grid after grid of "interests".
Audi France wants to reach men aged 35 to 55.
Fuck them.
Nowhere do I find mentioned: light, shadow, wind, rain, storms, dusk, clouds.
I make screenshots, a gif, a collage and tweet.
Fuck them.
Shadowbook pic.twitter.com/F2i5VDLiJK— Simon Ensor (@sensor63) February 28, 2017
They know "everything" about "me", they know nothing.
Storm warning.
It was the sound of the wind in the tree which stopped me in my tracks.
Its branches were swaying wildly, casting shadow.
We stood there witness, I, ears to the fir.
It shrieked dumbly a storm warning.
I took my time to take note.
I took my time to listen, to look, to feel, to breathe, to remark the backgrounded noise of the city.
An ambulance siren speeds past.
A drama, an accident, a death?
I know not.
No matter.
No story.
No body.
An ambulance siren speeds past.
A wind blows, the tree sways...
I cling on to it, as a sailor to a mast of a boat, tossed on an ocean.
A wind blows, the tree sways...
The pages of a blog written by Mary Ann Reilly.
Words capture no more than a lie.Between the By-Road and the Main Road: Dark Energy & God's Steady Breath: https://t.co/a24BnlenFA— Mary Ann Reilly (@MaryAnnReilly) February 26, 2017
Therein lies our truth.
Shadow Spirit
I find myself annotating the intangible.
I play with words.
A shadow spirit walks the street still.
It has broken its bounds.
“In any case life is but a procession of shadows, and God knows why it is that we embrace them so eagerly, and see them depart with such anguish, being shadows.”
― Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
They know nothing about us ... and let's keep it that way, shall we?
ReplyDeleteDid you see Terry's post? http://impedagogy.com/wp/blog/2017/02/28/fake-news-is-a-red-herring-propaganda-on-the-other-hand/
Kevin
Funny you should say that. I saw his Banksy meme. It is quite possible that that contributed to connections being made subliminally between shadows and ads. I also have been walking around with the sound of sheep bleating from Terry's meadows.
DeleteThree sets of triplets and no 'bummer' lambs-all well and evidence that there is a benevolent god of sheep. There is also a dark one where we lost the two biggest twins we have ever had from one sheep. We worked for hours to help that ewe. Now, perhaps, it is neither good not bad god but trickster god? Here is link to post Kevin writes about: http://impedagogy.com/wp/blog/2017/02/28/fake-news-is-a-red-herring-propaganda-on-the-other-hand/ The book I am shilling (it's free so it's free shilling for a free book) is called "Advertising Shits in Your Head" --yeah, that's pretty much got it.
DeleteSorry about the twins. We spent a day looking for Jazz who went AWOL. Found in dog-catchers' kennels. Have downloaded penny pamphlet. Thanks.
DeleteHappy day, calloo callay, glad you found the Jazzman. I can imagine his look as you showed up. My pack, my pack, my pack has found me! Tail wagging ramped to eleven.
DeleteI love how you talk back to audi and the craziness of targeted ads.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mary Ann. I am as sure that Audi (Autocorrect Saudi) cares as much as it is probable that I buy one of their cars.
DeleteIn the verge, the hedgerow of your field where all the wild things are.
ReplyDeleteI like that image of hedgerow with Wild things growing :-)
Delete