simon withers
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A case against Nature and Humankind

Sir I abhor you…seek to reconsider your position.

…Do you have any sense of belonging? …To be separate from Nature yet akin to Man or if not can you reconcile that you are indeed amongst nature?

I feel Sir the question is not either/or…the realm is removed from such assurances.

Where is this state you refer to?

I know not where it is…it is not even an ‘it’ …it is

So conjurer…you invent nothing and you see phantoms and you create illusions and style the unknown…we know what clothes you wear…Emperor of Nothing.

I cannot stray from this path…to be lead astray.

We seek not to offer guidance…you pathetic fool…do you not realise…we have no interest in what you say, what you write, what you think and what you create.

You are not telling me anything that I do not already know…

But you continue to do this thing…it is not wanted.

It matters not 

I don’t understand…we don’t understand

I see your puzzled expressions…

And yet you persist in spewing out this bile…you have nothing that we have not seen before…and as custodians of critique, of aesthetics and a fine judgment of taste…you are not even a distraction…wake up you slumbering deceiver.

I see you 

I…I…I who do you think you are…you unknown…we reserve the ‘selfish I’ for our kind…we who have an inheritance, we who have fought nature and monsters since the emergence of time…do not give claim to be our ancestor or our equal.

…Why do you not fight…give voice…opinion?

 Humanity dances 

 …and what do you mean intangible enigma?  

 I have given account…it is sufficient

 Enlighten us deceiver… conjure more of your emptiness

 I shall carry my lit lantern…and search for the dark.

 …you are wonderfully backward my abject creature.

 …As is Natures way

 you think we are Nature…you think we have not evolved…you think we are not above the animal and plant…that we are not the science of things?

 …It has crossed my mind…I think it remains a possibility.

Then so be it…we shall judge you with our entire savage might sick deluded creature...Have you any last words…for no one can say we do not offer civilized humanity to unfortunates. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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  • Home
  • News
  • Painting
    • Multi-Fold Paintings >
      • The Carrier Awaits
      • Multi-Fold Texts
    • Urban Stories 2014
    • Contrivances
    • Paintings 1983 - 2015
  • Previous Modes
    • GRAPHICS
    • lens >
      • Photographs >
        • Box Man / Observations
        • CAT
        • A Flower?
        • Animals
        • Odds & Ends
      • Films
    • Drawing >
      • Works on Paper
      • Evacuation drawings 2013
    • SCULPTURE
    • Performative works >
      • Box Man - an observation
      • Considering Venus
      • Concerto
      • Speaking in Tongues
      • Making Sandcastles 2010
    • UNDERTAKINGS >
      • Paper
      • Stiles
      • The Garden
      • Time Machine
    • Projects >
      • Crested china tank 2013/2015 >
        • GHOST 2015
        • GHOST / Trent to Trenches / 2014
        • 16428
      • OSB 10
      • Foraged Book Project 2013
      • Heavy Air
      • My Lullaby >
        • The Tanks Are Coming
      • The Rashleigh Jackson Collection
      • March of Silence
      • Clearance Sale (2012)
      • Wildflowers
      • City Planning
      • Metahang
      • Stories from Nana Roosie
      • Year of The Artist
    • Nothing to Write Home About
  • CV
    • Studios >
      • PRIMARY
    • The Nottingham Contemporary Years >
      • Exhibitions
      • Zed
    • Press and Print
    • Performance History
    • Nu-Urban Gardeners
    • Cyril Seaton's Cycle Roots
    • Music performance
  • Texts
    • Bookworks
    • Aeroplane
    • Beginnings
    • Diary
    • End Game
    • Flash Point
    • Ghosts
    • Hit & Miss
    • Lifeboat
    • Mount Capitalist
    • Oedipus
    • Playing it Forward
    • Picture Stories
    • Statements of intent
    • The sandwich board men
    • The boy who returns crabs to the sea
    • The Priest
  • Contact
  • Links