On the surface of a geometrically enclosed piece of earth is a parcel, and on it a building that are both “owned”. This concept of ownership is a misnaming problem and at odds with the reality of human time. Designers, architects, artists and such, finite as they are to their pulpy vessels, self-taught in their claim of uniquity, reach singular individuals at sporadic intervals. Efficiently, search diligently; think of time differently. Be willing to draw from this an inspiration that desperately holds onto the reins of this grand bucking misconception of proprietariness, and in time release the grip to be thrown. With the aforementioned mantra and a disciplined skepticism, angular and obtuse in its exactness, build for ghosts and plan for obsolescence. 

Preparing for a rapidly absent and unreplaced infrastructure allows undergirding for a consciousness that postures itself in humility as opposed to positioning itself with authority. Erecting for permanence is like the term implies, a phallus fallacy, that is reproduction out of assumed necessity and impenetrability. Even our most progressively labeled intentions of resilience and sustainability remain on a spectrum of the assumed unshakable immortality and presumptuous preciousness of our species, when in fact the truly radical position is to build for the true rush of time ever forward, to actively engineer and choreograph the disappearance of our species (ever-increasing in appearance and application as virus).

When the octopus, the armored beetle, the bacterial legion steer the new history, can we be sure they have any use for what we have learned, and if affirmative, how best to transfer it? An ingestible or any plan to translate text and sound to a more inclusive set of sensory inputs perhaps. Planning for obsolescence ensures a malleability of our networked fleshiness beyond digital forms, the gradual digestion of our plastic prosthetics, and the erosion of the metal excreted by our engines of regress.

When we arrived in Washington we immediately went dumpster diving, out of some necessity and a lot of opportunity, to fill in the empty spaces in the place we rented to live and practice in. The practical application of our method of collecting things that could produce sound meant that during our long shows there were a variety of things to play, and put together or take apart during the performance. Driving tail to nose in tandem station wagon and box truck from Scranton to Brooklyn for our last show almost ten years later, obsolescence was a matter of physical mass when we sold it during the show, or left it on the curb the next day. The fluid dynamics of the system that is Therefore requires persistent revisions and the continual dissolution of the materials that make up our instruments, our output, and ourselves.