The onslaught of commercialism has led us to a schizophrenic relationship with objects. On the one hand we can’t live without collecting them; on the other, most things don’t merit our long term attention and care, and on the other hand — told you it was schizophrenic — we cannot bring ourselves to let go of these things. And here we stand, on this platform today, to say to all of you that hear us that it is time to take the tiny bus to fun town. It is time to think things through and come up with the next stop in our bus ride with materialism taking the back seat. It is time to celebrate. And celebrate we shall.
What to do with all those goods that no one seems to want? Should we create a great container for all of them, hoping that one day they will suddenly have a newfound worth? Betting on unforeseeable glories of the unwanted items is troublesome for me, especially when there are other options to follow.
And here I say this. Receive the objects, receive them and change their names, call them products. Analyze the products, determine their cultural commercial value and then let go. Just let go.
If they were valuable enough to keep, their original holders would have never deaccessioned them. Some of them will probably require storage either because they were deaccessioned through some screw up, were screwed up during the process, or because the establishment is afraid to be screwed if they get rid of it. If storage is not justified, then send them out the flea market, let the people who know best — flea marketers and flea marketers—metabolize and recycle these otherwise pointless objects. Let’s face it, they are pointless. If it’s really bad, just throw it away.
Don’t get your nihilist motors running yet. All objects that pass through the installation shall be digitized: scanned using all tools available to modern science in order to create virtual copies of the object. Therefore even if you throw it straight to the rubbish bin, you can always conserve a facsimile, however it may seem today, you never know.