Polaroid is no longer making instant film. What could this mean for the Occult Underground?
http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/12/08/polaroid.farewell/index.html?iref=newssearch
This is the last production month of Polaroid film for their instant cameras. It’s now a finite product, a slowly dwindling quantity for a dying medium.
It’s just the sort of thing that could spark an interest among more than a few mages.
Right now, I’m imagining a small, but potent, mystical battle to be the one person to take the last Polaroid picture ever. The inherent meaning alone in being the last of anything is powerful. Add in the symbolic shift of photography giving way from the physical to the digital and what the art means to the mass consciousness…capturing a moment or a memory forever…and you’re building to something very big. A major charge or a powerful artifact.
Or at least, it’s a start.
On a side-note, it’s also serious business for clued-ins, because of a) Photoshop and b) Polaroid pictures being a real bitch to fake when it comes to taking photographic evidence.
Come to think of it, the last Polaroid shot taken could be another shot at the end of reality as we know it. Maybe it’s furthermore the VIP ticket for instant ascension of The Witness, a.k.a. #333.
Oh snap…
Wratts, I like the way you think about The Witness.
Or maybe it already happened once and all that’s left from the LAST ascension is a single Polaroid picture, tacked up on a bulletin board in some skeezy bar under layer after layer of shitty rock band flyers and Truck For Sale ads.
The Witness got a birthday gift, which happened to be the last set of polaroid photos because the friend knew he loves his polaroid camera. Problem is, there are two adepts who are in struggle with eachother to get the camera and its very final film set; one set out to gain it and use it as a means of charging up and who’s really resourceful, hiring some schmuck to obtain it from the Witness, the other adept is hell-bent on destroying it to charge up by making it the Witness’s worst nightmare. The Witness was clueless of what he was.
Where *you* come in to this mess? The private investigation agency was paying you to retrieve some guy’s stolen Polaroid camera.
But you don’t know what happened in the last 48 hours, because you wake up with some of the other investigators in a motel room. One of you reeks of whiskey (which you hate) and has an empty gun in hand, some polaroid shots in the other hand, another one of you wakes up with a gunshot wound to the shoulder in the shower, and another is in a pool of her own vomit in front of a trashed TV set and next to the motel room’s phone which is on loop of telling you that number isn’t available, off the hook.
What the hell happened?