Fear of ReDS

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Fear of ReDS
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I went to see the ReDS exhibition down in London today, and it was excellent.  I expected the usual mawkish bullshit you get when you hold exhibitions by homeless people, people with AIDS, etc, but there was a lot of very strong work. I particularly liked a musical piece using algorithmic models that used the recorded biological reactions of someone with ReDS and someone without ReDS.  It really managed to create a sense of the difference between both, the alienation that someone with ReDS suffered from.  A group of us were stood in the white room, flecked with a few spots of red in the corner, that the music was being played through, and I could see people with their eyes closed, lost in the music.  I could see people crying, because they’d finally understood what ReDS was all about. And then someone coughed.  A sharp intake of breath from every single soul in that room.  A beat.  And then we each, without acknowledging a thing to each other, without a single look, we all crept out. Because we’re still not sure how ReDS in transmitted.  That’s why we have the quarantines.  And that’s why I wasn’t going to stand any longer in a building full of objects that a ReDS sufferer made.

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