Today I found a blog that is doing the same thing. Kinda. It is called 'Selfies at Serious Places' and this is a post about it. It is a sister piece to my #thirdworldproblems post, where I took shitty Syrian angst sefies. But yeah, so this blog. The people on S.A.S.P. shock me. The dead reduced to novelty hand gestures. Cos I totally never flipped a peace sign on my mac book against a hawaiian backdrop when thinking of crimes against humanity. I tut and think of hyperreality and Baudrillard, old text books talking dislocation in words no one understands.
I sift through the surrounding images of my own little world to deal with my own little non-experiences of the Syrian Civil War. Sure a bunch of my family is there (including possibly my Daddy rite now-it's complicated-don't ask-don't tell). But I'm not. I'm a light skinned girl in merry old England who doesn't kno shit.
I kno I kno this but that doesn't make me better. Doesn't make me better than the ppl in this post. We are both dislocated from Real Actual Bad Things. Sure my Real Actual Bad Thing is actually about me. I guess. But it doesn't make me anymore authentic than a kid taking wild eyed selfies at Auschwitz. Or that time when Justin Bieber when to the Anne Frank's house, squeezing himself into her story.
We are pet store budgies pecking at our mirror trying, and failing, to understand the world through ourselves. The people in the pictures below have unlocked their jaws and swallowed themselves up. In short they are doing a hack job of it. But that's ok (I think?) cos so am I.