In my underground studio bunker in Washington, DC, I have constructed an audio-visual enclave to insert myself into the larger media flow. It is from this vantage point of immersion that I host The Post Reality Show: a laboratory experiment chronicling the effects of our daily exposure to the 24/7 information torrent, a performance of critique through ingestion.
The Post Reality Show amplifies the spectacle of media and the elements of seduction through a total embrace of its intoxication and disorientation of the senses. As the carrier / host of The Post Reality Show, I embed myself into the media torrent: channeling and redistributing the hypnotic repetitions, dense layerings, and sheer velocity of the kaleidoscopic images, sounds and manipulations that are fired across the trajectory of our screens. I am, in essence, a VJ of the talk show.
It is in this space of the media torrent that ideas and commentary emerge from a dizzying flow of information. Here in the bunker, in front of an array of cameras, microphones, and computer interfaces, I plumb the medial experience in its most extreme form as a deep sea diver might examine obscure lifeforms in the depths of the sea, or perhaps like the scientists and psychic explorers who ingested the first artificial hallucinogens in order to unlock the mystery of altered forms of consciousness.
Furthermore, as a cyber-anthropological investigation, The Post Reality Show excavates the absurdities and hidden dangers of the contemporary techno-condition: an analysis and unraveling of the artifacts and viral entities that emerge as infectious situational comedies spiraling through the global networks.
Within the sensory storm resulting from the daily media intake, I inhabit this volatile (yet generally mesmerizing) space to sculpt my narrative in the first person as a surrogate laboratory specimen. It is not my intent to dwell on impassive theoretical exercises, nor even objective analysis, but rather as an artist immersed in the flow, broadcasting directly and authentically from the dark, bunkered intimacy of my studio.