Their counter-city, within the city. Their own city, within an existing city. That has nothing to do with the city – the old city. That basically ignores the old city. Ignore Newcastle.
That does it’s own thing, entirely, without reference to the old city. That might as well be anywhere! That’s international, really. That could be anywhere, really. That’s anonymous, really.
Is this local stone? Are these local trees? Are these a vernacular building style?
Massiveness, instead. Bulk, instead. Heft, instead. Vast buildings. Vast rectangles. Vast boxes. Al straight lines. That stands around us, dwarfing us.
And none of it human size. None of it built for humans. Designed to cow us, instead. Designed to psy-op us, instead. To nudge us. To think of ourselves as minions. As an ant farm. As worker drones.
Let us never adjust to this. Let us never accept this. Let it be a perpetual outrage. Let it never be allowed to complete its work on us.
We must not trust this campus. Its world – its cosmos. This is not our place – remember that.
That isn’t our sky, above us. And it isn’t our earth, below. We can’t see the earth. The land. Only its rising and falling. Only its contours, hidden. Built upon. No bare earth. No land. Except at the edges of the campus. Except where stone gives way to stony soul. But we’re far away from its edges.
Work in Progress 