Ready made art, this is the idea behind each hand made cassette tape, just as artist Marcel Duchamp proposed in 1915. Every tape represents an altered state, a mass produced commodity customised by hand into something individual, like some fictional droid that forms its own character and consciousness once let loose into the world. These are Tapes of Wrath that take as their theme modes of oppression and its continuous defeat by those who resist control. A relentless vigil that takes in the perspective of the flaneur, who strolls through streets of Blade Runner cool, except its set in Charles Baudelaire's time, fifty years before Duchamp famously exhibited his urinal art work. Socioogist Walter Benjamin describes feeling  'empathy' as an intoxication, to which the flaneur abandons himself in the crowd. Tapes du Mal, each side is filled with the detritus of a modern decadence, the fairy tale that is capitalist achievement, an evolutionary monkey tail that one day may fade away. Art is the greatest myth of all, the most aluring Republic yet created, an alchemy of pure magic that turns lead into gold and gold into lead before our eyes. Popular culture is the crowd, intoxicated by the phenomenon of fame but what makes someone famous is less important than the spectacle of fame itself, modernist platitudes of philosophical merit have been superseded by reality TV consensus.  Celebrity is the thing that drives our culture ever onwards, a super real, super normal, even super natural phenomenom, drawing us with magnetic certainty into the labrynth of superlative marketing stratergy. A super marketed, superficial maze of digital replication and downloaded fantasy, that has loses its value once it becomes outdated.