The Borist Press Manifesto
The Borist press does not give a fuck about you. Just the relationship it has with the everyday that is not represented and will never be remembered by you. The failure within mediums, the loss of imperfection within this hypermodernity that we exist within, that you fight against as if it’s a social problem to combat against.
Does not care about socialising within art circles, idea’s of collaborations or highly prized Arts council funding. Only the autonomist aura that can only be found in a third-rate bound publication that is presented in a art world that is hung up on full bound C.M.Y.K. litho printed, leather-case bound volumes, to sit on coffee tables.
Only the black and white tones of failure that are uneven within the 90gsm standard photocopy paper from a non-environmental source that makes up the object, that sits in front of you in white lovingly produced photographs that have been destroyed visually through lofi office multifunctional copy & print machinery to produce a sham of the original reality that it was taken from. Create and destroy, is muttered. Nothing more, nothing less. As aura must be found in nature and the way we destroy it to be used as such. Nihilistic Objective over takes the plague of bourgeois objectivity, like is does not care, screaming as it passes, “Digital photography is a false prophet and a whore”.
It does not care if you view or not, only that it has existed and is created only to be lost again. Causing damage only to it’s self, being ignored and flawed is it’s only guarantee of existence, then in turn it’s acceptance in life. These paper works will rot and burn in house fires, stables rust from sprinkler systems. Create and destroy, that what it mutters. It does not fucking care. They are made for the only reason that everything belongs in a book. Archived, classified and filed away. Why say anymore? Just get on with mundernity, and appreciate every aspect.
Life is boring, why make it interesting?