The Establishment is a Nightmare I Want to Wake Up from
Extract from “Robert Smithson: The Collected Writings”
(Published by University of California Press) ©1996 by the Estate of Robert Smithson
Robert Smithson on the Spiral Jetty, 1970 photo Gianfranco Gorgoni cover of Robert Smithson: The Collected Writings
The notion of an establishment seems to be a social fairytale, a deadly utopia or invisible system that inspires an almost mythical sense of dread – it is a “bad dream” that has somehow consumed the world. I shall postulate The Establishment as a state of mind – a deranged mind, that appears to be a mental City of Death. The architecture is uncertain and without a centre; it comes and goes a will-o’-the- wisp. It contains a strange mixture of politics and madness that resembles a nightmare let loose in the time and space of everyday reality.
This nightmarish system catalogues every known physical thing according to the “science” of totalitarian propaganda, and none of this “thought – control” can be traced by the isolated individual. Indoctrination causes many to follow monstrous lies against their will. Public or state “programs” follow maze-like patterns, till finally no one knows where he is. In this political dream world everything is leveled so that on the distant horizons mirages appear – phantom images of crazed armies and sinking ships, shadowy scenes of “the death of art,” and other obscene pomposities.
The Establishment as a state of mind – a deranged mind, that appears to be a mental City of Death
Networks of paths go in all directions. Everything that is the antithesis of art rolls on after brainless slogans: “Everyman is equal – the war on poverty – win the mind of man to freedom” – all echo into the poisonous skies. Organizations seem to grow more and more crackpot with their “activist” demonstrations. Techniques of “social” duplication make it impossible to get near anything that even slightly resembles “a government”- it is the decomposition of decomposition. All individual power is undermined and wasted as vague institutions of “culture,” “education,” and “sport” spread into the departments of delusion. Administrations proliferate into bogus “movements” and “fake ideals.” Impenetrable piles of bureaucratic slush sin into an ever sinking landscape of organized violence.
The circles of power become more and more intangible as they move to the edge of nowhere. Crimes are committed for the ultimate good of the State. Fictitious social structures uphold stupid hierarchies and protect legal criminals. Unreality becomes a “hardnosed” fact. In this fugitive “city” of the crumbling world-mind, all solids tremble and seem about to disintegrate. A complete inarticulation of thoughts brings one to a sickly lagoon, called The Slough of Decayed Language – it has vile shapeless creatures swimming in it. Beyond the lagoon are the desolate gates of The museum of Leftover Ideologies, which is run by the robots of The Establishment. In the museum one can find deposits of rust labeled “Philosophy,” and in glass cases unknown lumps of something labeled “Aesthetics.” One can walk down ruined hallways and see the remains of “Glory.” A sense of fatigue over comes one in the Room of Ancient History. A chart with poorly drawn pictures shows the 7 Wonders of the World with the captions: The Egyptian Pyramids, The Walls and Hanging Gardens of Babylon, The Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, The Colossus of Rhodes, The Statue of Zeus by Phidias at Olympia, and the Pharos (or lighthouse) at Alexandria. Adjoining this room is the Room of Savvita age Splendor where we see a group of simulated “primitives” made of plaster sitting around a campfire with cellophane flames beating the air ferociously. A faded map shows the “underdeveloped” countries. Fifty glass cases all the same size contain nothing but arrowheads.
In this fugitive “city” of the crumbling world-mind, all solids tremble and seem about to disintegrate
In the Hall of Destruction, we see a fantastic plan to blow up the Statue of Liberty. Some bones from Hannibal’s elephants are neatly displayed, and so is Nero’s “fiddle.” Piles of trophies are strewn in odd corners. A tasteful painting of The Battle of Waterloo hangs on the wall. A photograph shows a World War I tank bogged down in the mud. On a cracking wall is a list of “ideals” that killed millions.
The Room of Great Artists presents a panorama that goes from “the grand” to “the horrible.” A continuous film, always being shown in a dark chamber, depicts “the artist alienated from society.” It is made in “serial” sections under the titles: “Suffering, discovery, fame, and decline.” The film delves into the private life of the creative genius and shows the artist’s conflicts as he struggles to make the world understand his vision. In this museum run by the awesome Establishment is also the Hall of Lost Establishments and Vanished Civilizations. We see Troy – the golden treasure of great mythical city discovered hidden beneath a hilly Turkish town; Babylon – the great tower of Babel rising over the desert like a modern skyscraper; Angkor – its vine-enshrouded towers brooding over the steaming jungles of Cambodia; and Pompeii – proud city of the Caesars preserved in its last agonized moment of life by a sudden torrent of volcanic ash – and many more. The hall sags under the weight of such exhibitions. The Establishment is a nightmare from which I’m trying to awake.
