Metal Teeth Girth (The aesthetic of anger, destruction, the selfness — contemplating hate, power, rage and fear: the savage heart beats — pumping nitric oxides through their veins.
We live in brutal landscapes, style clashing against style, each competing with each other: the brutalist’s dream made real. The cities fractures and crushes the people under its weight. They fight to survive, bursting each other’s spleens.
The buildings dominate; it makes them feel insignificant; this is wealth, the totems of power bearing down, the sky caving in. You can only look up, craning your neck, looking up at the glass obelisks that pierce the sky. Transparent, they stare back at you, but your eyes cannot penetrate the glass walls. The filters that keep out the sun — blinds you. They remind you where power resides. Seeing your distorted reflections: representing the distortion of reality: you as insignificant: you on the outside whilst they are inside.
The worship of power, wealth and status, in a world where money is king: the currency you need to feel real, to buy the goods that define you.
The new car aesthetic, line commences, and the eye expects it to flow; instead, they break or abruptly end. The disjointed lines break the viewer’s visual narrative, creates discordance that the designer hopes will captivate their attention. The reward the viewer expects from predicate does not materialise. Existing in alien a landscape, they feel threatened. Alas, there is no resolution the jagging conflict remains. In life, there are only questions with no solutions.
Torque ploughing through the landscape of hate, they communicate that you need to mirror the inherent aggression of the environment you inhabit. It is the survival of the strongest — drivers driving SUV’s ploughing through the war-zone of the urban landscape. They need to feel safe from those bombs exploding all around them, and the savages living in the concrete jungle. You need to escape to your retreat in the suburbs, and the country or better still your house of tranquillity nestled in the desert. It is there you go to escape, to remove yourself from the world you have created.
Shining: bare metal wheels, reflected all over the landscape, no space, mesh-like grills, hungry teeth thrusting over the hills.
A landscape shape for you, no space, nowhere to escape from the constant roar. The air: even there your presence is felt, for one cannot breathe. Even when you are invisible, one can hear the sound of your engines. Unlike a nightmare, one cannot escape from you. Nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide, you are omnipresent — a world created by you for you.