Picture as an end
Catherine is a genius photograph reviewer. She lives in Paris, the City of Light and Culture. She works for the Picture Pyramid Institution (also known as PPI). Catherine lives in an era which will be later known as the Flash Century.
The success of Instagram has led to a more and more competitive mindset of Earth’s citizens: everybody wanted to capture the wildest and most beautiful moments in their life and share it worldwide. To avoid riots and organize the ordinary life of its amateur photographers, the Picture Pyramid Institution has emerged. Its goal is simple: rate every picture taken by the world population, on a daily basis. Each and everyone has to send a single picture to the PPI each day. Everyone’s objective is the same: being elected picture of the day. The photographer which has taken such a great picture is rewarded by being momentarily famous and through a minor financial reward. However, one who is not elected at least once in a lifetime is considered a loser. Many people are losers. Do they enjoy life at all, even if they actually win?
5 billion pictures are sent everyday to the PPI. Each one is judged by a 1st grade judge, who has to select 10% of the pictures she’s received. Another judge, ranked higher on the Pyramidal institution, selects 10% of the remaining images, until the 10th grade judge elects the picture of the day among the 5 images left.
Catherine is a proficient judge: the pictures she elects have constantly been highly graded in the PPI results. She has often elected the picture destined to become the picture of the day, even when she was only a 1st or 3rd grade judge. PPI is a true meritocracy (it doesn’t claim it, though): judges gain a rank only when they select pictures which get high in the PPI ranking. And Catherine was the best one.
One day, Catherine looks at the last 10 pictures of the day she’s chosen. It’s a shock. Out of 10 photography, she has selected three horrible pictures: one of a drowned child, which has touched her emotionally; one of a hanging, which has made her think deeply; one of a natural disaster, which was extremely aesthetic. Then she realizes: who was helping that child while everyone was taking a touching photo? Who was weeping for the hanged-man, while everyone was taking a mind-breaking shot? Who was running away from the fire, while everyone was framing the embers?
Life is too short and too frail to be spent in the hands of an obsessed photographer, isn’t it?
