A Practice for Surrender

Sleep has become an ideological field of tension. In the face of digital surveillance and optimisation, our once romanticised realm of dreams is now fragmented, clustered and sold off as so many units of data. Oddly enough, it would seem as if surrender and absence provide the best forms of resistance here. In a brief paranoid scrutiny of self-surveillance, and theories of digital humanities, this video essay is orbited by elements of distraction, adaption, and car lights passing through bedrooms. Sleep has become an ideological field of tension. In the face of digital surveillance and optimisation, our once romanticised realm of dreams is now fragmented, clustered and sold off as so many units of data. Oddly enough, it would seem as if surrender and absence provide the best forms of resistance here. In a brief paranoid scrutiny of self-surveillance, and theories of digital humanities, this video essay is orbited by elements of distraction, adaption, and car lights passing through bedrooms. Sleep has become an ideological field of tension. In the face of digital surveillance and optimisation, our once romanticised realm of dreams is now fragmented, clustered and sold off as so many units of data. Oddly enough, it would seem as if surrender and absence provide the best forms of resistance here. In a brief paranoid scrutiny of self-surveillance, and theories of digital humanities, this video essay is orbited by elements of distraction, adaption, and car lights passing through bedrooms. Sleep has become an ideological field of tension. In the face of digital surveillance and optimisation, our once romanticised realm of dreams is now fragmented, clustered and sold off as so many units of data. Oddly enough, it would seem as if surrender and absence provide the best forms of resistance here. In a brief paranoid scrutiny of self-surveillance, and theories of digital humanities, this video essay is orbited by elements of distraction, adaption, and car lights passing through bedrooms.