Camus and the Flux Capacitor: A DIY Delusion
The covers of Popular Mechanix are like the bastard lovechild of René Magritte and a caffeine-fueled assembly line worker but I love them.
Each one is a Dadaist masterpiece of gears, sprockets, and promises of a DIY utopia that only Kafka could dream up. You know the drill—glossy spreads featuring robotic butlers, flying cars, and enough contrived optimism to make Sartre gag.
So I’ve decided to recreate that vintage look that I love so much.
The philosophy here is clear: you, too, can conquer your meaningless existence with the right torque wrench and some elbow grease. It's a Nietzschean power fantasy wrapped in tinfoil and LED lights, whispering sweet nothings about the Übermensch you'll become once you figure out how to install that flux capacitor in your 1997 Honda Civic.
But let’s face it, these covers are the epitome of kitsch, a Warholian parody of progress. They celebrate a future that’s perpetually just out of reach, dangling like a carrot in front of the Sisyphean task that is modern life. Each issue is a promise that your next project will be the one that finally brings meaning to your existence, even as you drown in a sea of hex keys and misplaced screws.
So here’s to the dreamers, the builders, and the hopeless romantics who believe in a better tomorrow through the magic of Popular Mechanix. Keep reaching for those gears, my friends. Just don’t be surprised when you find yourself trapped in a Camusian nightmare, where the only escape is another issue with another shiny cover promising salvation through the next great DIY project.
All images are copyright 2024 by Andrea Bigiarini - All rights reserved.