#irrelevantism

[jakobskote]

Eidolons

Let's assume that technology does spawn “cities that grows like snowflakes overnight”; we ought to consider that when these urbanities-to-satisfy-our-every-need is implemented in our current stratified society they will freeze into ice castles preventing any social mobility and nomadic subjectivity. The actors in the interactions initiating these responses become the new architects; these interactions need to be hacked to prevent the crystallization of culture. Varanasi is as stratified as a fever dream and as quantifiable as a glitch; a snowflake-city in this context responding to an anti-tinder date generates a parametrical snow crash of contradictory architecture actualizing the total plurality of its conflictual sociocultural differences.

Anti-tinder dates in the ancient ruin. The ruin browses for irrational/pataphysical sociotechnical connections to group different identities in conflictual situations, these situations spawn contradictory architectural responses manifested in new unpredictable eidolons.

Beyond thy lectures learn’d professor, Beyond thy telescope or spectroscope observer keen, beyond all mathematics, Beyond the doctor’s surgery, anatomy, beyond the chemist with his chemistry, The entities of entities, eidolons.

Walt Whitman, Eidolons

This is essentially an inhabitable wrecking ball?

[jakobskote]

I am the image of myself, a volatile representation of my sensorial inputs. My body’s tailored lifeline, on the hand with which I decide my taste, my vibe, my self. I am the derivation of the walls that which contain me, the baby of the room that keeps me warm and safe, the emergence of the filters that sustain my senses, the essence of my idea of relevance, myself my own deliverance. I am in every moment instrumental, reiterations of reiterations of the contexts which curates me, that discerns what is relevant to me as me in the mass of irrelevant nonsense.

You are, imagined by the algorithms of my past experience, a non-person, defaced, a curiosity. Reality exotified, a liquid body in my kind hands, unreal behind our window. But the intersections of our walls initiates us, our overlapping algorithms let the nomads flee their gilded cage.

...flee into the vast sea outside our radar; Irrelevantism, the storm of random inputs, the hurricane of nothing, the bitter flavour that I search for when I try to deviate.

Irrelevantopolis, the slums down deep underneath my spectacle, the bugs crawling through the compost of the theatre, an unfiltered mass of life.

Irreleviathan, the monstrous god of nonsense, the deep dark depths of dumbness, the freezing numbing unknown contained in every storm. And when this storm it roars outside, and my room is snug and warm, I wont demolish any walls, I will do everything I can, to stay safe from wind and rain.

I only have one map, and I wouldn’t notice any else, since I already know my safe path home. This map is an infinity pool without white spots, not even in the suns reflection can I let myself be blind. Only uncertainty makes me doubt our vision, when the power grid goes off I loose my step and pace, break the window and unfind the wall.

We are surface creatures, we cant breath down in the depths our out in space. Lets irrelevantize ourselves, let our experience collide and help the nomads flee their gilded cage. If there is no storm that roars outside, what do I then need a safe room for?