We broadcast our image in cells and pixels across distances, viewed by lenses, pushed through codecs and compression algorithms, adapting new ways to circumvent the physical and connect. Thousands of people every day fuck and fuck themselves broadcast live via webcam.
The screen is the window and the mirror. It can be dismissed as too sterile, too ordered and cold to touch on the complexity of the corporeal. The glitch is the disruption of that illusion. A physical tear in the simulated reality, the breakdown of the order and predictability of lines of binary. It can reclaim the screen as a medium for the visceral, serendipitous and unpredictable, more base and “broken”. All the more real when confronted with the mechanics of the illusion.