He had experienced criticism, but nothing like this before. “Trash,” one comment read in the comments of the blog post. “How could anyone possibly think this guy has an inch of imagination,” another read as he continued reading the comments. He didn’t understand why so many people had shown such hate until he read one particular comment that seemed to overshadow every other comment on the page. “No originality, this guy has obviously run out of ideas and is copying other artists.” He couldn’t believe what he was reading and that people had actually accused him of plagiarism. As he put his phone away for the night, he decided it would be best to ignore the comment and assume that nobody would notice the heckler’s comment.
—
Buzz Buzz…Buzz Buzz… his phone was buzzing and continued all morning every couple minutes until he finally woke up. His heart immediately dropped as his phone was flooded with countless texts from his family and friends. Each asked if he had seen the news that he had been supposedly stealing and copying earlier works of art. One article even stated that his whole career had been built on stolen ideas. It was infuriating. He knew how much time he put into perfecting his craft and how much hard work it took to get into the spotlight, yet the media did not seem to care. He didn’t know what to do and proceeded to get ready for the day. After making breakfast, he turned on the TV to watch the news while he ate. What a mistake that was. Every channel he watched had been talking about the allegations and for a brief moment, it was as if his life was over. “Popular Modern Artist, Kingston receives backlash for plagiarism allegations.” He was trending all over Twitter and even celebrities he had once considered to be his friends were seemingly turning on him dishing out nasty comments and remarks. He couldn’t take it anymore, cut off the TV, and decided to distance himself from all media. No more Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, any of it. It was all deleted as soon as possible.
—
Silence. Silence filled the house as he sat there in his living room and it couldn’t have been any louder than at this moment. That was until he heard the knock at his front door. He ignored it at first assuming it was a reporter or somebody with the media attempting to get his thoughts on the situation. After only a few moments, another knock on the door. “Go away!” he yelled out to the visitor. A few moments pass once again and there’s another knock at the door. He finally gets up from his seat mumbling and cursing all the way to the door. “I thought I told you to–” deciding to hold his tongue as he opens the door to find that there was nobody in sight. Ding-dong ditching in broad daylight? He checked the nearby bushes to see if the visitor had been hiding and trying to play some sort of prank on him and was unable to find anybody. However, on his way back inside, he noticed something strange. There was a note left in front of his door with a strange insignia on the back. Other than that, at first glance, there was nothing special about it, it appeared to be just a blank card. That was until he turned the card and saw a line of words appear. It was slightly hard to read, but from what he could make of it, it read the words You are cordially invited to the future of Art and what looked to be a phone number…
—
The fact that someone was able to get so close to his home without him knowing sent chills down his spine. It was a gated community so not just anyone would be allowed entry. This left him feeling unsafe, especially because even his home surveillance camera footage couldn’t catch the anonymous visitor. He hurried back inside as quickly as possible and slammed the door shut. He tried to control his breathing as he tried to calm himself down. Ultimately he put the piece of paper on his kitchen table and went to make himself some tea to help himself relax. As he sipped his tea, he couldn’t help, but wonder who came by and why they left this card at his doorstep. He gazed at the card as if he were in a trance. Letting curiosity get the best of him, he picked up the card and dialed the number. It rang several times, before going to voicemail, or at least that’s what he thought and just as he was about to hang up, he heard an automated voice, but it didn’t ask to leave a voicemail. This automated message was different. “Thank you for calling. Entering the future of Art, we look to take artwork to heights it has never seen with state-of-the-art technology. Do you accept?” Do you accept? A simple question, but equally as daring given that he had no idea who or what he was dealing with. He didn’t know what to do. The offer sounded enticing, but the mention of technology threw him off. “Your offer stands for the next 15 seconds, after that, you will no longer be allowed to claim this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” said the automated voice. 15… 14… 13… The countdown started. He sat there going back in forth with himself. Could they really help me? What if this is some kind of scam by trolls? 5… 4… 3… He was running out of time and still couldn’t come to a clear decision. “I ACCEPT!” he said. “Thank you and welcome to the future of Art. A crew will be sent by in approximately 3 hours to get you set up. Goodbye…”
—
The realization of what he had just done was starting to settle in and his nerves had his mind racing. What had he just agreed to? What was he getting himself into? He didn’t know or want to find out, but it was too late. Ding Dong…It was them—it had to be. He slowly got up from the couch and slowly walked to the door. As he peeked out the side window, he noticed 5 figures dressed in navy blue suits each with a mask covering their entire face. After deciding to quit stalling, he opened the door and let them in. They wasted no time rushing in and setting up the instruments that they would soon use. He had never seen any technology like it. Once set up, they all looked at him in dead silence and but he noticed one of them was missing. Before he could even think, he felt himself becoming sleepy and realized he had been injected with a tranquilizing formula from the figure standing behind him. He quickly lost consciousness…
—
He was awakened by the sound of the door shutting as the strange people left and a pounding headache. He thought he could just sleep it off and decided to just head to bed for the night. Discovering that he couldn’t sleep he went to his studio and started sketching in his notebook. Out of nowhere, he experienced what felt like a surge of images all at once. He couldn’t make any of them out, but when he snapped out of it, he noticed that he had sketched various pieces in his sketchbook that couldn’t be described in any other words besides Art. He shared pictures and videos of them on his social media accounts and went to bed. The next morning it was like a miracle had struck. Skeptics were commending him for his work and the media praised him. Of course, there were still hecklers out there, but he was just glad people were on his side again. He spent the rest of his morning and afternoon relaxing and watching TV admiring himself for his “genius” or so it seemed. He had his notebook on him the whole day as well in case inspiration struck, but what he began seeing in his image surges, was something haunting. This continued all the rest of the afternoon and all through the night and by this time he had pieced together the meaning of the images. Kingston was often admired for the deep meaning behind his paintings and his deep thoughts. This time around he realized this trait was working against him with this new technology installed and what he wanted to illustrate was something he felt the world should see. Mushroom clouds. Melted structures. Abandoned Cities. Not a human in sight. Nuclear Fallout….
—
Not knowing what else to do, he rushes to his cell phone, fumbling to pick it up, and dials CNN. He arranges to go on air and illustrates this damning imagery. In the meantime, he attempts to spread awareness to his friends and family, but everybody just thought he was out of his mind. So there he was, pacing in his living room. Suddenly, he receives a knock at his door and goes to answer it. This time, however, he was immediately greeted by a tranquilization dart to his neck. As he slowly lost consciousness, he noticed two figures in black suits, but this time their faces weren’t covered. He wakes up lost and confused in between four concrete walls and hears a voice come from the camera in the corner of the room. “We know you’re probably wondering where you are and that’s classified. What you should know is that you are being held for suspected conspiracy.” They must have found out about his plan to go on CNN and expose them. “Don’t worry we’ll make sure you are well taken care of Mr. Kingston and we’ll send your little friends over at CNN your sincerest apologies for not being able to make it on their show.”
—
Controversial Artist Kingston withdraws from CNN appearance to illustrate “End of the World.” due to health complications.
Works Cited
Roose, Kevin. “Ai-Generated Art Won a Prize. Artists Aren’t Happy. – The New York Times.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 2 Sept. 2022, https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/02/technology/ai-artificial-intelligence-artists.html.
“Zima Blue.” Love, Death & Robots, Directed by Robert Valley, Created by Tim Miller, Animated by Passion Animation Studios, Written by Alastair Reynolds, Season 1, Episode 14, Blur Studio, 2019. Netflix, www.netflix.com.
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