ARTBASE (1)
PORTFOLIO (3)
BIO
Marc Garrett is co-director and co-founder, with artist Ruth Catlow of the Internet arts collectives and communities – Furtherfield.org, Furthernoise.org, Netbehaviour.org, also co-founder and co-curator/director of the gallery space formerly known as 'HTTP Gallery' now called the Furtherfield Gallery in London (Finsbury Park), UK. Co-curating various contemporary Media Arts exhibitions, projects nationally and internationally. Co-editor of 'Artists Re:Thinking Games' with Ruth Catlow and Corrado Morgana 2010. Hosted Furtherfield's critically acclaimed weekly broadcast on UK's Resonance FM Radio, a series of hour long live interviews with people working at the edge of contemporary practices in art, technology & social change. Currently doing an Art history Phd at the University of London, Birkbeck College.
Net artist, media artist, curator, writer, street artist, activist, educationalist and musician. Emerging in the late 80′s from the streets exploring creativity via agit-art tactics. Using unofficial, experimental platforms such as the streets, pirate radio such as the locally popular ‘Savage Yet Tender’ alternative broadcasting 1980′s group, net broadcasts, BBS systems, performance, intervention, events, pamphlets, warehouses and gallery spaces. In the early nineties, was co-sysop (systems operator) with Heath Bunting on Cybercafe BBS with Irational.org.
Our mission is to co-create extraordinary art that connects with contemporary audiences providing innovative, engaging and inclusive digital and physical spaces for appreciating and participating in practices in art, technology and social change. As well as finding alternative ways around already dominating hegemonies, thus claiming for ourselves and our peer networks a culturally aware and critical dialogue beyond traditional hierarchical behaviours. Influenced by situationist theory, fluxus, free and open source culture, and processes of self-education and peer learning, in an art, activist and community context.
Net artist, media artist, curator, writer, street artist, activist, educationalist and musician. Emerging in the late 80′s from the streets exploring creativity via agit-art tactics. Using unofficial, experimental platforms such as the streets, pirate radio such as the locally popular ‘Savage Yet Tender’ alternative broadcasting 1980′s group, net broadcasts, BBS systems, performance, intervention, events, pamphlets, warehouses and gallery spaces. In the early nineties, was co-sysop (systems operator) with Heath Bunting on Cybercafe BBS with Irational.org.
Our mission is to co-create extraordinary art that connects with contemporary audiences providing innovative, engaging and inclusive digital and physical spaces for appreciating and participating in practices in art, technology and social change. As well as finding alternative ways around already dominating hegemonies, thus claiming for ourselves and our peer networks a culturally aware and critical dialogue beyond traditional hierarchical behaviours. Influenced by situationist theory, fluxus, free and open source culture, and processes of self-education and peer learning, in an art, activist and community context.
Dream Sake Quango
Dream Sake Quango
Dream sake quango,
chewing on the spangle
changing the angle - differentia,
area.
A new spread - fed
a new bed instead.
Shed the fears,
extricate the fears
chewing on the spangle
bubble - psyche.
Bubble psyche
psyche, soul.
Bubble psyche.
likely turn around,
likely turn around.
turn away - turn away yesterday,
non day-
non day.
No say, no word - absurd
chewing on the spangle
tastes sweet - straight beat
Instant,
no hit - no shit.
Instant relief,
instant belief
sheaf/belief/sheaf/thief
among hazy tucked years
avoid valid now,
now fears
devoid is the centre,
the bitter - sweet
centre/bitter
chewing on the spangle
the crux of angle
is pushed aside - inside deeper than,
love + above, love
bellow is your sinking
below you are sinking
with too much thinking
myth creating - myrth - gift lies
now everyone's a spy - a spy I spy
caught in your spangle
chewed,
crunched,
spat out - out
out.
The spangle out!
devoid is the centre.
Horses.
Gone,
symbol of a bygone age
history suggests - we all suggest
that then, there was no cage
plenty of room to live,
nothing
trapping,
wrapping around us
like that grey stuff we call the road
wrapping it's concrete choker
around the coughing - world
If histheory/
a theory = memory
history is myth,
maybe the present
is as well.
Just another passing
moment
once experienced
it
flitters away
into the distance,
mixed/up with films
external dreams,
singular teller of things
Onward - forward they advanced
onslaught spread across,
earth
that Oval/ball we call - earth
a muddy place we call - world
witnessed something - a something
a happening,
something happening
dead/vent,
advent non happening
a shame,
this shameful/shameless event
And onkus beliefs
justified it all
Huxley cried,
indeed a lot did cry
Onward - forward they marched
well - not good,
we are told
And who are we to deny it?
Banners flew as swords flew
Slew,
drew crimson drips
cutting through innocent skin
crosses paraded,
bared their truth(truth)
The crusade gave free death - aid
impaled the meek with myrth
Onward - forward they advanced
books display it - yes say it
oo - all the layers of slayers crushing souls
eliminating cost
lost are the defines
real truth's
serial killers,
soul fillers - killers
As memories fade + wander back again
images loose the pain that living gives
dealing with existence
trying to discover essence
it lies outside/inside over,
around us
maybe we never had it,
just neurotics dealing with fear
but memories are our guidelines,
our connexion
to learning what is and what isn't
external space
it grows out there
memories fade and
wander back again
can we grow,
begin to learn/relearn
as worlds out there blow up and expand?
Implode
while we assess our smallness
uncomfortably,
too often
Deus is myth,
a part of our lives
reality is perception,
as is unreality
do we really want more,
is it such a bore?
We deal consequence
and situation
modeling ourselves
on fickle ideals
age creates
retro/wisdom can lie
Dream sake quango,
chewing on the spangle
changing the angle - differentia,
area.
A new spread - fed
a new bed instead.
Shed the fears,
extricate the fears
chewing on the spangle
bubble - psyche.
Bubble psyche
psyche, soul.
Bubble psyche.
likely turn around,
likely turn around.
turn away - turn away yesterday,
non day-
non day.
No say, no word - absurd
chewing on the spangle
tastes sweet - straight beat
Instant,
no hit - no shit.
Instant relief,
instant belief
sheaf/belief/sheaf/thief
among hazy tucked years
avoid valid now,
now fears
devoid is the centre,
the bitter - sweet
centre/bitter
chewing on the spangle
the crux of angle
is pushed aside - inside deeper than,
love + above, love
bellow is your sinking
below you are sinking
with too much thinking
myth creating - myrth - gift lies
now everyone's a spy - a spy I spy
caught in your spangle
chewed,
crunched,
spat out - out
out.
The spangle out!
devoid is the centre.
Horses.
Gone,
symbol of a bygone age
history suggests - we all suggest
that then, there was no cage
plenty of room to live,
nothing
trapping,
wrapping around us
like that grey stuff we call the road
wrapping it's concrete choker
around the coughing - world
If histheory/
a theory = memory
history is myth,
maybe the present
is as well.
Just another passing
moment
once experienced
it
flitters away
into the distance,
mixed/up with films
external dreams,
singular teller of things
Onward - forward they advanced
onslaught spread across,
earth
that Oval/ball we call - earth
a muddy place we call - world
witnessed something - a something
a happening,
something happening
dead/vent,
advent non happening
a shame,
this shameful/shameless event
And onkus beliefs
justified it all
Huxley cried,
indeed a lot did cry
Onward - forward they marched
well - not good,
we are told
And who are we to deny it?
Banners flew as swords flew
Slew,
drew crimson drips
cutting through innocent skin
crosses paraded,
bared their truth(truth)
The crusade gave free death - aid
impaled the meek with myrth
Onward - forward they advanced
books display it - yes say it
oo - all the layers of slayers crushing souls
eliminating cost
lost are the defines
real truth's
serial killers,
soul fillers - killers
As memories fade + wander back again
images loose the pain that living gives
dealing with existence
trying to discover essence
it lies outside/inside over,
around us
maybe we never had it,
just neurotics dealing with fear
but memories are our guidelines,
our connexion
to learning what is and what isn't
external space
it grows out there
memories fade and
wander back again
can we grow,
begin to learn/relearn
as worlds out there blow up and expand?
Implode
while we assess our smallness
uncomfortably,
too often
Deus is myth,
a part of our lives
reality is perception,
as is unreality
do we really want more,
is it such a bore?
We deal consequence
and situation
modeling ourselves
on fickle ideals
age creates
retro/wisdom can lie
Pretty Lies
Pretty Lies
This capricious idea that is drowned in an external facade - is nothing but
a dream a pretty lie. In time you will learn, yet fears dig deep suggesting
that time will be nothing but a tentative barometer. Things look and seem in
the right place, everything is exact to your required and lustful
measurement . A glowing example of the human race, parading the perfect
example of what others should aspire to be. A design - designed to make free
spirits worry, worry about the outer space between them and others. On this
archetypal product a veneer glows like a glaze which hides the rust that
eats away inside. How can one be free when faced by stereo - typical -
post - idealists, declaring war on self love. Pictorial delusion infests all
hope and advertises a template of which all lost eyes infest on.
This mutation of the exterior is merely a polish to hide the inferior
mythology which presumes style. It slips and slides and poses grace, hinting
pure face as it sniggers choosing a vacuous Armour. And you are fooled by
this tinsel wrapping, which reflects how unrealized you really are. This
invented criterion is a visual soap opera created for the empty heart who
fears the mind.
As the recommended lie oozes into place, the myth becomes a reality
pertaining the lowest denominator. Dictating the way, the way we should be -
deconstructed, instructed - told and sold a classic ideal. It threatens
inner smiles and is crushed under steel, it squeals under emotional
blackmail. For systematic creed identity is pushed aside for the chosen
utopia re - invented, invested.
Lives are re - constructed losing thy original core which once burned proud
and warm. Post - human triviality distorts our realities, opting for the
shield that covers our true selves. Soon we will become acceptable by the
soulless eyes who judge other peoples lives. ENTRENCHED clothed in facile
styles, dissected and conformed to the ultimate self mutilation. And all
this is because one must concede and conform to someone else's pretty
lies...
This capricious idea that is drowned in an external facade - is nothing but
a dream a pretty lie. In time you will learn, yet fears dig deep suggesting
that time will be nothing but a tentative barometer. Things look and seem in
the right place, everything is exact to your required and lustful
measurement . A glowing example of the human race, parading the perfect
example of what others should aspire to be. A design - designed to make free
spirits worry, worry about the outer space between them and others. On this
archetypal product a veneer glows like a glaze which hides the rust that
eats away inside. How can one be free when faced by stereo - typical -
post - idealists, declaring war on self love. Pictorial delusion infests all
hope and advertises a template of which all lost eyes infest on.
This mutation of the exterior is merely a polish to hide the inferior
mythology which presumes style. It slips and slides and poses grace, hinting
pure face as it sniggers choosing a vacuous Armour. And you are fooled by
this tinsel wrapping, which reflects how unrealized you really are. This
invented criterion is a visual soap opera created for the empty heart who
fears the mind.
As the recommended lie oozes into place, the myth becomes a reality
pertaining the lowest denominator. Dictating the way, the way we should be -
deconstructed, instructed - told and sold a classic ideal. It threatens
inner smiles and is crushed under steel, it squeals under emotional
blackmail. For systematic creed identity is pushed aside for the chosen
utopia re - invented, invested.
Lives are re - constructed losing thy original core which once burned proud
and warm. Post - human triviality distorts our realities, opting for the
shield that covers our true selves. Soon we will become acceptable by the
soulless eyes who judge other peoples lives. ENTRENCHED clothed in facile
styles, dissected and conformed to the ultimate self mutilation. And all
this is because one must concede and conform to someone else's pretty
lies...
well bred
The Webby Awards - the most well bred this year...
http://www.the-kennel-club.org.uk/crufts/cruftsframe.html
http://www.the-kennel-club.org.uk/crufts/cruftsframe.html
Iran wants US to apologise for helping Osama in the past
Iran wants US to apologise for helping Osama in the past
Agence France-Presse
Tehran, June 2
Iran on Monday hit back at US allegations that it has failed to crack down =
on fugitive Al-Qaeda members, calling on Washington to apologise to the wor=
ld for its own past support of the network.
"The Americans should present a full apology to the international community=
for the support they gave to Al-Qaeda," foreign ministry spokesman Hamid R=
eza Asefi told reporters.
The official was referring to a period in the 1980s when millions of dollar=
s of covert US aid was channelled -- through the Pakistani secret service -=
- to Islamist groups battling the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan.
http://www.hindustantimes.com/news/181_269818,0005.htm
Agence France-Presse
Tehran, June 2
Iran on Monday hit back at US allegations that it has failed to crack down =
on fugitive Al-Qaeda members, calling on Washington to apologise to the wor=
ld for its own past support of the network.
"The Americans should present a full apology to the international community=
for the support they gave to Al-Qaeda," foreign ministry spokesman Hamid R=
eza Asefi told reporters.
The official was referring to a period in the 1980s when millions of dollar=
s of covert US aid was channelled -- through the Pakistani secret service -=
- to Islamist groups battling the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan.
http://www.hindustantimes.com/news/181_269818,0005.htm
no weapons of mass destruction
Philip Greenspun's Weblog
an interesting idea every three months; a posting every day...
Folks in the UK are upset that no weapons of mass destruction have
been found in Iraq, calling for the resignation of Prime Minister Tony
Blair on the theory that he lied to Parliament about Iraqi
capabilities.
http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/philg/2003/06/04#a461
an interesting idea every three months; a posting every day...
Folks in the UK are upset that no weapons of mass destruction have
been found in Iraq, calling for the resignation of Prime Minister Tony
Blair on the theory that he lied to Parliament about Iraqi
capabilities.
http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/philg/2003/06/04#a461