According to the photocopy that shows the rules, we have to write out orders for each move for each unit – “without a clue to the objective.”
In writing orders and ignoring objectives, we must remember the second Golden Rule of the Buddha, or consult Old Moore’s Almanac, or at least, Shurmer’s Official Guide of Hyndburn. None of these can be found in the Yellow Pages.
Do you remember the Beginning? No? Never mind. We need to find someone, to tell the C.O.s to do something. Remember what or who the C.O.s are? No? Never mind. Let’s imagine we found someone. And now, let us peruse the images below and prepare to DO SOMETHING.
Consulting what rules we have, I can now tell you. Here is what we do. We do something.
(But what to do: AKA “Disappear in front of his brother, in a PUFF of SMOKE.”)
Do you remember the Beginning? No? Never mind. The second rule-post says we need to find someone, to tell the C.O.s to do something. Remember what or who the C.O.s are? No? Never mind. We should find someone.
I know this is difficult. There are so many people to choose from.
These copies will be placed regularly, and OVER TIME. The Museum will host the elements of PINS that need no explanation, they are here for you to photocopy and use, perhaps with photocopies of your own. To make your own beginnings.
PINS is a game for all anonymous egos, everywhere, made through repositioning and reproducing old dreams and documents.
What does time teach us? Placing remembrances of time over the detritus of other times doesn’t bring much it seems, except more confusion. Who knows? Beware those with answers.
We must take our luck where we can. Hence a dreamlike visitation of Wrocław’s Krasnoludek in East Lancashire. Victorian streets that cling on in the gloaming, spaces where schools and factories were, pubs that made way for motorways. We need a better narrative. Myths are needed to make us feel noticed, or carefree, again.
In the Spring of 2000, the Photocopier left England to live in a caravan in the Netherlands. He took a lot of pictures before leaving and on arriving.
Back then, photographs were taken on a camera. Some turned out well, some didn’t. Some are of a Lancashire long gone, some of a Holland just discovered but now disappeared for ever.
What remains in these photocopies of photographs is the stasis, the time that never existed, the time that floated around not asking to be captured. That’s the time that stays with us when we see it again.
In the Spring of 2000, the Photocopier left England to live in a caravan in the Netherlands. He took a lot of pictures before leaving and on arriving.
Back then, photographs were taken on a camera. Some turned out well, some didn’t. Some are of a Lancashire long gone, some of a Holland just discovered but now disappeared for ever.
What remains in these photocopies of photographs is the stasis, the time that never existed, the time that floated around not asking to be captured. That’s the time that stays with us when we see it again.
Let’s introduce one new thing by talking about another. Let’s not. Let’s do nothing, but stare at memories of the East Lancashire Moors. For what else is there to do? We can wander round places we have never ever been to, that’s what. Let’s enter the Memory Vortex.