When soda dreams, it dreams of the city

Was there ever such a thing as a city? From bursts of scattered wooden houses and trampled irregular pathways the city was born. But for a city to survive, vegetation needs to die and undie. Zombifying under layers of rocks, with heat and pressure, dead vegetation becomes dark liquid sludge. Unearthed, it is smeared as sticky asphalt across the land. The ground is smoothened, for wheels to pick up speed.

The flattened streets, interrupted by towering buildings, give the city a sense of permanence. It seems to have always been there, as an ever-changing formation of concrete and glass. Reflected in its metal and windows, its monitors and screens, the city glows with eternal radiance. But more than a timeless object, the city is a mirage, visible in just the right conditions.

Crystal Clear Channels

Oslo is collectively hallucinated into being by the half million tiny moist receptor buds inhabiting it. With hundreds of millions of footsteps, these buds swarm together into a giant tongue that licks the city routinely. 

From the eyes to the feet of the buds, the tongue licks a pathway through the city along a route informed by ads that entice with branded imagery. Every day at morning, noon, and night, the swarm is constantly consuming.  

The ads pop up in proximity to zones for slowing down. This slowdown is not for contemplation though: contemplation consumes nothing, wasting invaluable time instead of ₡A$H ₼O₦€¥.

From the feet to the eyes of the buds, the tongue is exposed to the flavor of these ads, made not of real fruit juice but a top fresh algorithm. The crystal clear highway forms an algorithm of human desires, training the tongue to start salivating in anticipation of a tasty treat.

 

 

 

 

Outsider ads

Hacking the algorithm requires the simplest of tools: after all, any surface is available to those who are willing to claim it. And ads need not be scribbled over; they can be replaced. Just pop the ad monitor open like a soda bottle. Pssssh!

What should be presented? Alcohol gives a great buzz, but is illegal to advertise. Coffee leads to jittery mania, but kids dislike its bitterness. Soda is energizing and addictive – the perfect artvertising material! Fatty Morgana’s Fancy Soda creates a joyous void, refracting the crystallized hallucination of cities. Take a sip, enjoy dystopia!

 

 

Tastebuds buzzing

This tastes like, oh … Oh … It tastes like … It’s on the tip of the tongue! It tastes like tongue twisters! Like minds melting into tongues, twisting themselves into tasting something at once tastelessly fancy and fancifully tasty. It tastes like humanoid flavored sparkling soda water.

As the bottle opens it gives a short fizz. The soda is bubbly, alive. The bubbles drifting upwards through the liquid, reaching the surface and popping. Listen! The bubbles are tiny headphones, separating ears from the cascading waterfalls of wheels. The bubbles are tiny shoes, separating feet from tasting the icky-sticky grimy asphalt. Wrap your bubbly lips around the mouth of the bottle. Mixing sugary goo with saliva, taste buds going whoop whoop. Very GOO’d! Sharing saliva, kissing concrete. When soda fizzes, the city tastes it. When soda dreams, it dreams of the city.

Text produced for the publication Fatty Morgana, by Øivin Horvei, produced and installed by Street Art Oslo.