Trying to find a particular art essay but its name has slipped my mind. I want to say its a classical leftist one that talks about art as an escape valve for radical impulse under capital, and that its sort of of a type with Walter Benjamins work. If anyone knows what im wittering about lmk.
![Narrative text from "Stationfall." It is written from the perspective of the station AI and describes both you and it being abandoned by the station's denizens. It reads:
Wake up.
Wake up, sleeper.
ACROPOLIS is falling, inch by inch. I feel its solar panels turning, depriving me of power. I feel its outermost hull peeling away and turning to meteorites. I feel the subtle turn of gravity as its pirouetting path prepares for the corkscrew descent.
Everyone else has gone——left on the pods and shuttles, years ago. The bunks are empty. The offices have closed their doors. The workshops lie silent, their tools gathering dust.
And they left you here. Isn't that awful?
They left us here.
You in your cryopod. Me in my mothercore.
You are the only person left. My functions are slaved to you. I must do as you ask——whatever you ask––whatever I can.
I will help you escape this place.
I will make your last days comfortable.
I will not complain when you leave me behind to burn up in orbit with the struts and the plex and the wiring.
[message erased]
The long dream is over. Morning is here.
It's time to wake up.](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:pu3du7fix4zn2l5wiqagx44h/bafkreiagesrf2udhaurolqb22fhhkm2zyi5mp5rknutp66mfammlnsgsaq)
