010 — The Illusion of Action | Talon Z. Gray

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This Illusion of Action
We See Driving Down the Road Today
The Cycle of History Repeats Itself.
The Need for Art Is Now.

If you are with the internet,
this is my yard.
And I make the art.

We think we’re fighting the system by watching.
But it’s just a new version of the same old loop:
Consume. React. Repeat.

Subscribing feels like resistance.
Commenting feels like action.
But nothing changes.
The outrage cycle doesn’t mobilize.
We still sleep-walk through life.

This isn’t new.
We’ve seen this before—
Different actors. Same stage. Same script.
For the sake of time, that’s an understatement.

And every time the system convulsed,
art didn’t just mirror the world. It rewrote it.
Where would we be
if we couldn’t revel against it?

News won’t save us.
No one will.
But a story might.

Not a clip. Not a post.
A movement.

We need full-length resistance.
Not something that trends—
Something that shifts mindscapes.
It’s already happening.
Everywhere.
Even here,
in my yard.

I imagine you’ve watched the news yourself.
I am not the bald eagle witch.
They televise everything.
They narrate like they care.
But the ending is always the same.
Since you decided to confront me.
Let me explain what happened.

The sun shines high at noon.
The detainment center is just down the road.
We still make signs—
so they don’t feel alone when they come by.
They race past here sometimes.
My dog runs free.
I wish they’d slow it down.
Feels like a racetrack out here.
Make sure you report that part.

So I made a banner.
Long. Colorful. Airbrushed titles.
Nature-themed.
Gave it a grand reveal.
Got a few honks.
Your friends were here, unless I am mistaken.

Fifteen minutes later—
an eagle crashes straight through it.
And dies.

A bald eagle.
Dead.
Right through the “Human Rights” section.
A finale no one could have written.

Like... what?!
I took the banner down.
Staged the scene like a discovery.
“Oh my god! A bald eagle! Never seen one in my life!”
I checked for movement—
stone cold.

Animal control showed up.
“See anything funny?”
“Nothing at all.”
“CCTV caught it. You're the banner owner.
Your motif? Could’ve disoriented the raptor.”
“Oh… really.”

They didn’t laugh.
They wrote me a citation.

“You’ll pay it in court.”
“Maybe next time you’ll think about supporting the greater good.”
“We’re synced to over 1,000 local surveillance cameras.”
“We had you in five. Don't you ever try to lie.”

He kept saying it until he was singing it.
Over and over.
"Don’t you ever try to lie."
It was disturbing.

I walked to the backyard.
They left.
$4.99 fine.

I took it as bureaucratic desperation.
Next banner?
A dreamer catcher.