'Revolution' is a mobile projection project. A car will pull up to the curb. An autopole will extend from the sunroof. A computer animated projection of a toddler talking about revolution, the end of the world and the conquest of civilization by animals will appear at street level. The car will drive off and the boy will appear in another location. All image and sound will come from the car in a self enclosed unit that runs off the car's battery, so it will be possible to cover many different locations in the course of one evening. The unit can also travel between cities and countries. Further animated soap box speeches will be produced and projected around the city in the same way. 

The character of the revolutionary toddler was developed for Weinstein's animated film, The Childhood Of Bertolt Brecht. The piece began with three large paintings of the boy with exerpts from his dialogue superimposed over his face. Weinstein added the word REVOLUTION in a circle on the top; a pun on the term, 'perpetual revolution.' Is the figure of the revolutionary just a pastiche at this point in time or is radical change possible? Are we fully disillusioned and only comfortable with illusions, projections and fantasies to sustain us? And, does the Brechtian proposition that change can be encouraged through entertainment have any weight, or are we only capable of being entertained?


When the revolution comes we will cut all the heels off of all the high-heeled shoes and we will turn them into golf tees. And then we will build housing blocks on the golf courses and you will ask 'but what will we do with all these golf tees?' And we will smile and sigh and shake our heads.

When the revolution comes, sadness will become a hobby. Phrases like; 'you are breaking my heart,' 'I miss him,' 'why am I alive?' and 'what's the point of waking up when life is a nightmare,' will be swapped, traded and entered into decorative albums.

When the revolution comes, people will call each other sweetie-pie and kitten and poopsie. They will blow kisses at each other and hug without touching. We will forgive them for this behavior. For revolutions to occur, people need to be very polite to each other. They may have to be gently shown that they are part of something massive that cannot be spoken to rudely, a thing so gigantic that space-people will crane their necks out of their spaceships to behold it. But we will tease them and tempt them. We will drape a huge piece of red velvet over the earth and we will say, 'NO! NO! You can't see it yet. We are not satisfied with the outcome. Things are not yet where they are supposed to be. The place is a mess.'

When the revolution comes, talking animals will approach us and they will say, 'hello.' Some of these talking animals will soon achieve great fame for singing and dancing. They will please us and they will enchant us and the 'getting to know' each other period will be like a new Eden. Problems will emanate from within our entertainment industry when these famous animals adopt a policy of killing and eating us. Our politicians and economists, as well as our human entertainers will adopt extreme positions pro and con regarding the issue of whether or not it is correct and civilized to eat anything that is famous and talks and sings. Battles and skirmishes will be lost and won. We will refuse to attend their performances or buy their music if they do not stop killing and eating us. Our passive resistance will not dissuade them. 'We do not need negotiation, we need recipes,' will be shouted by food and wine enthusiasts, hungry for battle. And our revolution? And what of it? For now it has been tucked away in a soft bed and it looks out the window at times.

It sees that we are busy with other things. But it will wake up and bluebirds will bring it clean underwear and squirrels will comb it's hair. 

When the revolution comes, the sound will be turned off. Silent stares will communicate a sense of expectation and a hunger for change. Then the lights will be turned off. Our eyes will begin to glow and we will find each other. When we do, we will slowly walk into each other and disappear. Two by two, we will vanish. When we are gone, the sound will be turned back on, and then the lights will be turned back on. The animals will all notice that we are no longer around. 'Thank God they've gone,' is what they will say to each other. The animals won't miss us. Nope. Not at all. 

The revolution will smell as clean as the inside of a soap bubble. The revolution is an infinite sphere whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere. The revolution will taste like artificial green apple flavoring. It will look like an infinity of stars. It will disappear during the night and leave us two hundred dollars on our bed side tables; leaving us to feel misunderstood, a bit cheap, but deeply flattered. The revolution will match with whatever we choose to wear; even patterns and off colors like rust and eggplant.

When the revolution comes, cats will finally tell us what they have been thinking about all this time. Prepare yourself, it isn't going to be pretty.

My big sister is an enemy of the revolution.

My big sister had to spend four months in her room because she rode her bike down the interstate with a pillow case over her head and she broke her back.

My big sister got rewarded for this with a new television, an iphone and a massage chair. 

My big sister now spends all her time getting high in her room with her friends and laughing at jokes that aren't funny.

My big sister writes terrible poems that don't rhyme and posts them on facebook. 

When the revolution comes, my big sister won't know what hit her. She can write a stupid poem about it or she can draw a crying horse or some crap, but it won't help. There is no help for you big sister, do you hear me?

There will be nobody to buy you televisions and iphones and beats by Dr Dre headphones. There will just be the eyes of the animals, looking at you, not deciding what to do with you yet. 

The animals don't read poems or look at pictures or get high. The animals laugh, but not at your stupid jokes. The animals are going to live in our houses and go to our business breakfast meetings and eat all the bagels and fruit salad and then come up with better and more feasible strategies and game plans.