Photography and Imaging: Alexander Brattell and Steven Cook
Narrative: Grant Morrison
The phone rings five times.
A synthesized Hawking-voice, monotonous,
triggers the implant. ‘You will be working for the Other Side now.’
The meadow is filled with day-glo latex and rubber flowers. They buzz in the hot, oily rain. A light-sensitive, polaroid filter catsuit turns transparent. Rain falls like thick dripping jelly. ‘You are not even a number.’
‘In the peepshow booth, the shutter slides up.
A red electronic eye is watching.
You enjoy being watched as you begin to strip away your identity.’
The telephone rings four times. A synthesized Hawking-voice, monotonous, triggers the implant.
‘These machines are not designed to hurt you.
Do you love yourself ?
Do you have sexual dreams ?’
Crawling micro-organisms spread like ink into every aroused pore, from skin to bloodstream to brain, like a fever.
The phone rings three times, triggering the implant.
‘The heart of the Professor is invisible and can only be detected by its effect on other hearts. Time stops at its edge. The gravity in the heart of the Professor is so great that not even light itself can escape.’
‘Anything coming close is pulled in and vanishes from our universe altogether.’
The phone rings twice.
‘Have you always been a poor eater ?’
‘Do you love your father more than your mother ?’
Fully-reprogrammed, remote-controlled, a tongue emerges to lick 360º around the rim of each wheel on the Professor's chair. Then each radial spoke in turn.
Surrender to gravity.
The phone rings once.
‘The professor knows best.’
For More: Grant Morrison at Xanaduum. Alexander Brattell at brattell.com. Steve Cook at stevecook.London.