Bullets at an Exhibition

The dream involved a twisted post-modern sequel to Ballard's "The Atrocity Exhibition." (Not normally my style. Ah, that wacky unconscious of mine!) The exhibition took place in a museum. (The exhibition was either virtual reality or actual slaughter, it wasn't quite clear.) Either way, the museum handed each visitor an AR-15 when they entered. The point of the exhibition was for the visitors to shoot each other. This wasn't mandatory, but expected.

The "living" museum would somehow scan the identities and histories of each visitor. The walls and halls would then blossom with paintings and statues revealing their lives.

Thus, when the slaughter progressed, it could not be impersonal. The "living museum" would record the details of the massacre; this would also turn into paintings and statues.

The feedback loop of endless documentation and analysis would eventually fragment into the "deconstruction" process when it would all turn into abstract art -- which, naturally, stood for abstract data.

The "Narrator" recorded this experience in a cold, heartless art review. The person doing the writing (Me?) was clear to distinguish between himself and this unfeeling "Narrator." He's saying it; I'm not.