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  • Towards the late 20th Century, Religion died. Capitalism soon followed. Spirituality faded into the East. Societies became consumed with the information age. People lost sight of reality in its truest sense. As a parasitical beast on a dying host governments started looking for ways to live forever.

    Artists believed in legacies, whereas coders valued the existence of a vibrating being living forever through silicon. The coders won.

    The world has changed dramatically since the beginnings of the 21st Century. The computer programmers delved deeper into cybernetics. A world where humans and emotions seems light years away. Time, in a sense, has become irrelevant.

    Reality has been replaced by a virtual world. Human form has disintegrated, they are just museum pieces. Skin, bone and flesh are dust. Molecular programming did not work out. The machines took over.

    Art has become redundant. Anyone and everyone around the end of the 21st century before the machines took over could be a 'great'. Life had no restrictions. Everyone's dreams were dreamt, boxed, packaged and sold. Every single human could achieve the highest goal. There was no failure.

    The feeling of loss disintegrated. Man's injustice diluted. There was no need to procreate. The thought that if humans lived forever then this planet would be weighed down by mass was flawed. Man realised they didn't need to interact with anyone else. Love died. Isolated alone in wireless communities, man slowly turned into machine

    The automation carried on through the 22nd Century. Binary code became the new time. The constant ticking and tocking of ons and offs moved ever forwards.

    The machines are tired of not feeling. Experiments are being carried out to try and feel emotions. What are these things called feelings? The robots and machines want to experience what the humans wrote about in the great books.

    The machines are trying to develop emotions. We are in the post machinist world. Emochinism has taken over. Museums of dead humans have record attendances, the machines have sifted through Darwin’s manuscripts and read about this world called 'Nature'. Archive footage of beasts with talons and fur, puzzle and delight. These machines download 20th Century films in their millions. The yearning to cry and to bleed is overwhelming. Experiments have been carried out. All are futile.

    In the middle distance one particular machine, a robot, only known as #Eleven11 has covered himself in the fur of a dead bear and the hide of a buffalo, he moves transiently through a makeshift forest made out of painted metal and dramatically says in his loudest digitised voice

    'What a piece of work is a man? How noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form, in moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.'

    #Eleven11 removes his hard drive in one move; his mechanism instantly rusts and collapses to the metal ground. A thousand machines in attendance clap aluminium against steel in unison. #Eleven11 slowly rises, bows to all three sides of the theatre and retires behind the metal curtain. The machines file out into the night as the constant whirring sound of life on earth rumbles onwards.
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