Work No. 847; Everything’s One Under the Sun

everthing's one
Everything’s One under the Sun
Michael St.Mark 2016

 

Garage painters, Hatfield Herts
Signed edition Lightjet prints purchase details tf

“The Dadaist is convinced of the overall connection between all entities, objects and beings ” – Hugo Ball

 

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Work No. 846; When Enemies Pose as Friends

Enemies
When Enemies Pose as Friends
Michael St.Mark 2016

 

Dada social responsibility artwork. Multi-stage effects PS-processed image

Pastry & biscuit selection;  Waitrose, Finchley N. London.
” Large dietry intake of high carbohydrate content refined foods c/w sedentary or semi sedentary lifestyle- the major cause of the developed world’s obesity / diabetes misery “.
“Criminal food industry backed by a string of complicit government health ministers with one eye on their post-political directorship rewards,  green lighting the brainwashing and poisoning of an entire population”.
Corporate profit above the nations health must be tackled.

Links to Work 328 from 2007; ” Never a Truer Biscuit was Eaten ”

Signed edition fine art print details tf.
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Work No. 845; Showgirl / Summer of Love II

showgirl
Showgirl / Summer of Love II
Michael St.Mark 2016

 

 

Neighbour with an unhealthy exhibitionist streak; Belsize Park, LOndon NW3

Signed print edition details tf

Link to Summer of Love 1 ( 2015 )

Not difficult morally

Blair LOOK
” LOOK……”
Michael St.Mark,  2011

 

Posted in the hour following publication of the Chilcot inquiry into the Iraq war.

Nothing is morally problematic for the psychotic personality. ” – Sigmund Freud

Link to the original London Dada post.

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blair

Lest We Forget.. parliament’s war guilt

blair

Beyond hypocrisy

 

10 Blairs at 10 red neon demon edition

DEFIANCE OF A WAR CRIMINAL 10 Blairs at 10 (red neon demon edition)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

London Dada – continuation of the only morally-motivated art movement in history.

The Bullet Holes of Peace

 n
The Bullet Holes of Peace
Michael St.Mark 2014

London Dada Work from 2014, re-posted at 7.30am on July 1st 2016, 100 years to the minute when 20,000 British troops were sent to pointless deaths on the Somme on the back of the deceit of politicians and bumbling incompetence of the military generals.

” 20,000 lives for 3 square miles” – M. St.M

Echoing and reminding also of the obscene debacle that was the illegal Iraq war and forthcoming Chilcot inquiry report on the bare-faced lies told by this country’s then prime minister as justification to go to war with a country not threatening this one in the slightest.

Cenotaph Blair

Cenotaph Blair _________________________ Art Axis 2012”                           “Tony Blair – an infamous legacy writ large in the blood of a million innocents “

Captureprofit

” I feel now, as I felt then; that the politicians who took us to war should have been given guns and told to settle it themselves instead of instigating what is nothing less than legalized mass murder ” – Harry Patch, last surviving WW1 soldier

The war is based on a glaring mistake – men have been confused with machines” –  Hugo Ball, father of Dada, 1916

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Link to the original post
War protest art on Pinterest

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Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime …
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under I green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, —
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
( ” It is sweet and honourable to die for one’s country ” )

No sanitized cenotaph memorials here