Neo-Seul in 2144

Chilling and dazzling concept artwork by artist George Hull for The Wachowskis adaptation of David Mitchell’s mind-bending, provocative and deeply human book Cloud Atlas.

Just some comments, picture by picture;

  • In the dystopian future of 130 years from now old Seul is under water. What you’re seeing are massive dams keeping the water in check. The old town is submerged, but you can see the citadel of lights - the new city, behind it.

  • Daewoo is still in business, no wonder since feudalism never stopped in East-Asia, it just commandeered a more modern and effective system to work for it. By the way; Dae (Great) Woo (Woo - obviously!) is so named after its glorious (Uhm, yeah well..) founder Kim Woo-jung. It’s the second largest megacorp chaebol (from chae: wealth or property + pol: faction or clan) in Korea right now. Largest one known for cars, the two others probably made your computer, telephone, screen, internal components of iPhone or household appliances.

  • The whole old-town-skyscrapers-as-oil-rig-style-shantytowns-concept is pretty damn daunting and awesome. Give you the chills..

  • Since the whole future went to shits we now breed clones for everything, including food. This is a slaughter ship. Yeah.. Abe’s universe isn’t that bad after all.. Soylent green was too subtle!

  • Downtown. Upside is - we finally got flying cars!

  • Floodgates and the horizon. Wasteland.

Watch the movie, read the books and give the artist some kudos. This is really something.

// The Shadow of Pixels

Sixsmith, I climb the steps of the Scot Monument every morning… and all becomes clear. Wish I could make you see this brightness. Don’t worry. All is well. All is so perfectly, damnably well.
I understand now that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions… waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention if only one can first conceive of doing so. In moments like this I can feel your heart beating as clearly as I feel my own and I know that separation is an illusion.

My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.

—  Robert Frobisher
Lornsome night, babbits bawlin’, wind bitin’ the bone. Wind like this, full of voices. Ancestry howlin’ at you; ‘you bring the stories’. All their voices tied up into one. One voice different, one voice whispering out there, spying from the dark. Now, find you devil, Old Georgie himself. Now you hear up close and I’ll yarn you about the first time we met eye to eye.
—  Cloud Atlas (2012)