killing is part of religion as much as hypocrisy is. christianity, islam, judaism and the so-called peace driven religions such as buddhism and what not. the problem with said organizations is, that there are people involved. and they are constantly lying to themselves, be it about worth, philosophy and the biggest of them all moral, as if there was such a thing among the most ruthless of all animals. exploitation and limitless cruelty towards anything that seems to be weak and helpless. No buddha, dharma, mohammed or jesus is going to change anything about that, they solely are going to serve as an excuse and to justify immoral actions. so rich and poor people don’t have to feel bad about their actions. it be stupid to make religion responsible for any of those actions. the 10 commandments and neither the noble eightfold path is going to lead anybody to liberation. not here not anywhere, period. we like to kill so we can live in access or not. we are not to be humbled. we are incongruous, and that’s how we got where we are. survival of the fittest or in our case, survival of the most callous. you see it in the children which bully and the emperor which slaughters. we annihilate our food, punish the weak for being inferior. demean those who don’t feel the need to. we stand on top of the motionless bodies of the hunted. if they could they would to the same, and we know that. nils mik

bigger, stronger, faster. there is a certain trend in people’s physical development. the slightly above average male nowadays looks like a romans time viking. we are turning into more robust individuals, so it seems. we should be stronger as generations fade, and new ones rise. but the further we advance, the less struggle is presence, and the less suffer is directionally proportional to less strength to overcome said obstacles. we look stronger, move faster, jump higher and have better access to every bit of information, but evolution won’t offer real toughness, not by itself. no endurance no “sucking it up”. everybody feels bad for everybody else, just a bunch of weaklings talking a lot, when they really should have their tales between their legs until they experience what our fathers and mothers partially had to fight with. growth has an element of simplicity. for muscles to grow, there needs to be a struggle with resistance, until you overcome it. same goes for mental strength, in theory it is so easy and logical, like everything else worth doing and being in our lifetimes. endure and beat real cold, pain, struggle and everything else which sharpens a body and mind. It’s not survival of the seemingly fittest. there are a lot of people that have come up with struggle and are still struggling as they grow to be adults, but they often don’t have a spot in this society, because people feel intimidated, by the ability to take what they want. it goes against the rules. people call them degenerates and criminals. but if this is the direction humans are moving in, I don’t know if I want to evolve.

In 1980, an ocelot is sneakily caught and killed in the jungle east of Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, to sell its fur to tourists. I am one of these tourists. The fur then lies senselessly for nearly four decades in my apartment. Finally, clothes moths attack the fur and destroy it. However, I can not bring the fur to bury and so it is now on the surface of a mound to become soil.Every day I visit it with a bad conscience.

cigarettes and coffee suicide for pleasure. inhaling certain uncertainty. every breath gets shorter. but something is in motion, shifting control to a substance, to a feeling, a relief, or just a few moments in the cold, fueled with solitude. maybe just a distraction from minor or major struggle. giving the possibility to be approached by someone who struggles with the exactly same and different things. self-loathe, subconscious consciousness about the fact that you don’t really want to be here. a decision turns into a habit. a human habit, selfdestruction. I tell myself that it’s for creative reasons or to let off steam. when in the end, I only want to feel the smoke pour into my eyes my throat and look at it fade through the dimmed lights and moonshine. nils mik

artist was simply his own reincarnation

exactly 60 years after people from hungary fled to austria at accurately this place, native hungarians, employees of a Bavarian car manufacturer, undertake a company outing