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FOR. (T+U, Exiles, Farbwechsel)

In post-culture we are not waiting for the apocalypse as it already happened a long time ago. There was no nuclear holocaust or any other festive moments: we live in cycles of rivalling doomsdays. In our present situation, there is no need for any decorative desert chases to foster a post-apocalyptic attitude towards life, since we are already mutants, missing only the visible bodily signs of mutation, in our Post-Europe reality. All that’s left for us is to collect, gather and handcraft. We produce post-food from the flora and fauna of the shelter, since the trance caused by this culinary remix helps us accept that (self)-estrangement is not a cultural handicap, but a new paradigm. Collecting the wrecks of the Great Order that lie unclaimed in the streets is a life-threatening mission since we, as mutants, also hunt for each other. But we need to find these toys before the radioactive fog falls on the city, because the youth must know our rituals. The museums have all burned down and the baroque mammoths are tottering in flames on the boulevards. The vernissage has been swept away by the plague. Our only hope is bunker fever and mutagenic techno as chamber music. For that, we must submerge ourselves under the city. The birds of the celestial geometry are dead; we no longer yearn for their spheres since our grief collapses, inwards.The Gothic cathedral may be the zenith of art, but in the heart of the bunker, an inverted cathedral opens like a nuclear flower. By following its vibrations, we dance without limbs, following only the bass of our guts, for our name is legion. The music is the architect of the mind, but the inverted cathedral is the defeat of matter: a Golem that collapses by its own gravity, a victim of an obscure technology. We are settled in the loops of this collapse, attuned to the infinite rustle that undermines all hierarchies, because the rat kings and Isaac Asimov’s final nightmare lie side by side within the concrete sarcophagus.

T+U Manifesto by Márió Z. Nemes, translated by Zsolt Miklósvölgyi