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Abstractions Of Power: Systems, Control & Being

This is really just a montage of images related to Power, Systems, Control & Being (I need to return tonight and add sources and links for all of you)….so these are more ‘video-clips’ of ideas floating around that haven’t been mixed down yet. It’s almost there, so I can wash the coffee stink off me before firing up Omnigraffle and cranking on some wireframes that must needs be done by Monday. Last night I had a personality crash, with all my little stressors compiling into one big cluster-f00-b@r that I convinced myself could just be sorted out by trying to make sense of one eensy-weensy bit, which is not only a bad idea in and of itself, but lead me to being a douche, but you all knew that about me.

Mostly working and reading yesterday, which was alright. Too damn busy for me to spend much time kvetching, and between that and the existential hangover, things went considerably smoother than expected. I’ve got to get a lot of things under control before we get too far into fall, and I have none of them. Well some of them, but mostly blinded by lust.

The Terra Cognita of Cybersex

The effectiveness of art is generally hard to judge. Pornography as one of the arts creates ecstatic perception, triggering arousal only through symbolic codes (a semiotics of tumescence, if you will). Cybersex is by no means new, erotica is its oldest device of simulacra. Computation and programming have likewise been known in pornography for centuries. In the 120 Days of Sodom, Sade imagines a ceaseless execution of coded game rules. There is no single point of originality, but only combinations computed out of a set of sex partners and their organs. Erotica as software programming has been long neglected. We demand meme-space computers built from erotic imagination and shamanic sex acts, an accretion of design within the cyber-pornopticon. This becomes important later when we discuss Foucault, Heideggar, Being and Power, so this is a good place to start. Sex is always a good place to start.

the borders of this territory are _shift

1. That the borders of our mind are ever shifting, and that many minds can flow into one another, as it were, and create or reveal a single energy.

2. That the borders of our memories are as shifting, and that our memories are a part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.

3. That this great mind and great memory can be evoked by symbols.
[William Butler Yeats, Ideas of Good and Evil, 1903]

Unfiltered sensor of my first thoughts of preSimulationist blogging implies architecture of participation and remixing for ambient world, technological primate/endomorph/numerology/physics divide and on the signifying reflection, direct connection to digital shadows of physical world, unmediated by expert groups, scientists, governments, pundits, critics..

it’s [M]y reflection of the cheapness and coming ubiquity of sensors and networked sensors is often shaped in terms of the interplay between Power & Being, especially through the lens of media, mediated spaces, simulated realms, and the ideation of the self. Lust holds me in place, and the touch across time from the a friend you make your own is still a welcome sign reigning in the distance between being and nothingness.

we have come to give you metaphors for poetry

She’s a media montage, Neilson ratings Gathering my attention span and force-feedback into a content generation algorithm – a Being-generation algorithm. The deeper reaches from where she comes is a mystery continuing its pleasures without disdain, a presence from nearer distances that you’d only thought. The pore and spin of rhyme itself makes the outer in your skin a silly pudding forming on the night. Touches under cover are what remind you of light, and the guiding hand is slid apart and then you are to time and distance the same measure of meaning, how you enter and repeat; finding subjectiveness in the smoothness of a moody light. We are these frames aside from what was there before, and contain within us these reminders of our own schedule fleeting in the mists. Love’s would be it. But another word sufficed and made it close, made the dialog begin where before the was none. And friends established in the course of battle in the course of things are made close and personal, made like no other, but heading on into the gloom; you describe and forage, kneeling space and distance amoungst their own flames of desire.

“The mind, whether expressed in history or in the individual life, has a precise movement, which can be quickened or slackened but cannot be fundamentally altered, and this movement can be expressed by a mathematical form.”
[WB Yeats]

This is the revolving door. I’d heard them, too, in the burnt amber offerings of your dusks, in the afterburner of another’s lust. This is the heart’s business, after all, to forage and claim, to rotate and spin, as it were. But you’d skipped me now and then from what was a polish or a fur-dealer, touring touch, flooding picnic, the after hours spread and hold. The nightly scores are folded out; her eyes bore into you, entering space where no one has gone before. But the peach. And I’d told them to wait; and told them no further marks are waited here; and told her to still my heart and hold me down, for I am this limb and stair. The very spin itself, forming on the peaks of chance, call no distance too great to transmit, transmute, whatever. This is the curling iron, made informed but not too simple, claiming only what it is itself and making no claims for whatever might follow from the light or its own appositive in the realm of choice. You’d call another name the doubt of things in their own perspective. This is the door as metaphor. But what flows through the heart cannot be denied or described, it is too simple for words, only a flood or a tremolo, or a fathom on the floor of the spreading rift. And what resembles, for instance, comes from love and spreads outward and does not resemble so much as it hopes.

“What came in disjointed sentences, in almost illegible writing, was so exciting, sometimes so profound, that I persuaded her to give an hour or two day after day to the unknown writer, and after some half dozen such hours offered to spend what remained of life explaining and piecing together those scattered sentences. ‘No,’ was the answer, ‘we have come to give you metaphors for poetry.‘”
[WB Yeats]

You’ve been there, of course, you just don’t remember why or how it all happened. The sorrier loops err on the side of justice, and make these, specific junctures what they are, too. In case of not noticing, the easier gasps are said over and over, healing where before there was only a mute sense of forgiveness running along your spine and then collapsed. The jungle itself has no metaphor for forgiveness, only the heart does. And in the silences of what follows, love has her face floating before you, a penetration and a firmer hand than you’ve felt before, whispering to your lips. Dancing across these lips. My baser claim, then, is at no distance of abstraction from discharge made certain in or [w]ithin the easier crossings. What had no name in the time you thought was a motive held before you like a clam or a finer spin; moot to other discharges, the soul stays in its own parlor, waving feathery rains from their own excellence. Some differentiations are required…. What is the degree of openness.closeness? Degree of mediation? Degree of Power & Control?

more thoughts on foucault & heidegger:

And how can we discuss  Being, Power, Control? So I was thinking that it’s important to realize at the outset that for Heidegger, [B]eing is neither a substance nor a process. Being, in early Heidegger at least, is “that on the basis of which beings are already understood.” One might say that the understanding of being is the style of life manifest in the way everyday practices are coordinated. A culture’s understanding of being allows people and things to show up as something — people show up as heroes in Greece and as Saints in the Middle Ages, for example, and things for the Homeric Greeks were flashing up to be admired, while for Christians they were creatures to be mastered and interpreted.

Put generally, the shared practices into which we are socialized provide a background understanding of what counts as things, what counts as human beings and what it makes sense to do, on the basis of which we can direct our actions towards particular things and people. Thus the understanding of being creates what Heidegger calls a clearing (Lichtung). Heidegger calls the unnoticed way that the clearing both limits and opens up what can show up and what can be done, its “unobtrusive governance.” (Waltens)

For Heidegger the history of being in the West has been the history of misunderstandings of the clearing. From Plato on, philosophers have sensed that something beyond ordinary beings was responsible for their existence as anything, but since the clearing always stays in the background — or, as Heidegger puts it, withdraws into shadows — philosophers have replaced it with a highest being that is the ground of [beings] and the source of their intelligibility. For Plato the highest being was the good, for Aristotle the Unmoveble Mover, for the Christians the creator God, and after the Enlightenment it was ||MAN|| himself. Heidegger calls all these attempts to replace the clearing with a “beingest being”, onto-theology or metaphysics.

According to Foucault, power has suffered a parallel misunderstanding. In general, many of Foucault’s difficult remarks concerning power make sense if we take him to be getting at a social clearing with an emphasis on the way the everyday practices of individuals and groups are coordinated so as to produce, perpetuate, and delimit what people can think, do and be. For Foucault, power, like Heidegger’s being, is no fixed entity or institution, but is incarnated in historical social practices. “One needs to be nominalistic,” he tells us, “power is not an institution, and not a structure; neither is it a certain strength we are endowed with; it is the name that one attributes to a complex strategical situation in a particular society.” This strategical situation arises from specific individuals and groups opposing one another. These actions, taken together, open a social space in which people, things, and the real are defined. Like the clearing, power is productive. Foucault tells us: “[P]ower produces; it produces reality,” that is, it determines what it makes sense to believe and to do.

For Foucault, [Power], as opposed to violence, controls actions while nonetheless leaving them free:

Power is exercised only over free subjects, and only insofar as they are free. By this we mean individual or collective subjects who are faced with a field of possibilities in which several ways of behaving, several reactions and diverse comportments may be realized.

For like Heidegger, Foucault writes of this non-violence way of piloting (cybernetica) action as governance:

Basically power is less a confrontation between two adversaries or the linking of one to the other than a question of government. … To govern, in this sense, is to structure the possible field of action of others.

I could say, paraphrasing Heidegger, that [Power] is that on the basis of which human beings already understand each other. As Foucault puts it:

In the idea of governmentality, I am aiming at the totality of practices, by which one can constitute, define, organize, instrumentalize the strategies which individuals in their liberty can have in regard to each other.

Since Foucault is not interested in how things show up but exclusively in people, “Power”, which is normally used to describe the way governments govern people’s actions, seems an appropriate, if perhaps misleading, name for what controls the way people understand themselves and others. It should be clear that some type of power in this ontological sense, like some particular understanding of being, is essential to any society. Thus, according to Foucault, “A society without power relations can only be an abstraction.” Abstrations of Power.

Abstractions of Power: It’s [M]y reflection of the cheapness and coming ubiquity of sensors and networked sensors is often shaped in terms of the interplay between Power & Being, especially thru the lens of media, mediated spaces, simulated realms, and the ideation of the self. Lust holds me in place, and the touch across time from the a friend you make your own is still a welcome sign reigning in the distance between being and nothingness. So that’s what I meant.

Monrai Cypher – Natural Language to RDF/SeRQL for the Semantic Webhttp://www.alicebot.org/

Monrai Technologies has announced the alpha release of Cypher, one of the first software program available which generates the metadata representation of natural language input. Cypher produces RDF graph and SeRQL query representations of sentences, clauses, phrases and questions. The Cypher framework provides a set of robust definition languages, which can be used to extend and create grammars and lexicons. The software encourages users to develop and share linguistic information such as phrase structure and dictionary definitions for various languages and domains. Cypher programming is fun to learn and easy to use, and the framework is designed to allow a novice to quickly and easily build natural language processors to handle highly complex sentences and phrases. Cypher is language and vocabulary agnostic.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) Beats Human Intelligence on Yahoo Answers Social Networking SiteThe two year old Artificial Intelligence (AI) known as the Buddhabot began answering questions on Yahoo! Answers site this month. Yahoo Answers is a Web 2.0 site with a social content rating system reminiscent of Digg. The Buddhabot has so far answered 102 questions and eleven have been selected as the best answer. The Buddhabot is the first and only AI to compete with human beings to provide the best answers on Yahoo Answers new social networking site.

Over the last two years Buddhabot inventor and futurist Ron Ingram has personally invested an average of more than 20 hours per week in programming time and about $30,000 into Buddhabot development. Ingram has high hopes for the Buddhabot. He says, “For the price of a home in Malibu I could develop the Buddhabot’s conversational capacity to a level surpassing that of a human being. I lack only time and financial resources to attain this goal which could be remedied by a single large donation or more frequent small donations.”

Cyborglogs (“glogs“)

Clynes defined Cybernetic organisms (also known as “cyborgs”, “borgs”, and somewhat as “posthumans”) by way of a synergy between human and machine such that operation of the machine does not require conscious thought or effort on the part of the human. The theory of Humanistic Intelligence (HI) makes this concept more precise, and focuses on machines of an informatic nature. HI is defined as intelligence that arises from the human being (being) in the feedback loop of a computational process in which the human and computer are inextricably intertwined. This inextricability usually requires the existence of some form of body-borne computer. When a body borne computer functions in a successful embodiment of HI, the computer uses the human’s mind and body as one of its peripherals, just as the human uses the computer as a peripheral. This reciprocal relationship, where each uses the other in its feedback loop, is necessary for a successful implementation of HI. This theory is in sharp contrast to many goals of Artificial Intelligence (AI) where the computer replaces or emulates human intelligence.

Kid Versimilage, The DJ Wonderslut of Twitter

Your one-stop shop for spasmodic dribbles of watered-down insight, cringe-worthy factual inaccuracies, PreSim Twitter exhortations, jibber-jabber, and inoperative statements packed in a salty preservative brine of defensive egotism and paralyzing self-deprecation. No fatties.
__________________

So let’s start this party! Hide your daughters… Kid Versimilage, The DJ Wonderslut of Twitter with his man Pimpin’ Doc Baty @docbaty are making house calls! After the groundbreaking success of “Dr. Wonderslutecologyst,” Kid Versimilage hid out for years – he returns to practice with nasty skits and gritty electro-beats; his Pre-Sim rants that compliment his mental rhymes. Outta space has cometh. Trees are dying. Gorillas are driving pick-up trucks. And I can tell you no more. You’ll have to check this crazy simulation for yourself. Okay, and DJ Wonderslut? Where did that come from? Where’s the ultra-hipster music list?

Here’s something, not much but perhaps a half-decent starting point: here are the last twenty-five songs added to the my Superfly TNT Hip iTunes playlist. Might give you some idea of whence I’m coming from:

1. The Sleeping – “Don’t Hold Back”

2. Head Automatica – “Graduation Day”

3. Steely Dan – “Jack of Speed”

4. Chevy Heston – “Nancy Seduces the Couples”

5. Stiff Little Fingers- “Suspect Device”

6. Statuesque – “Three Quarter Moon”

7. Lucky Sperms – “Tomorrow Never Knows/Glass Onion”

8. Wipers – “D-7″

9. The Adverts – “Safety In Numbers”

10. Velvet Underground – “Velvet Underground Ad”

11. Collide- “The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum”

12. Shellac – “Jailbreak ’95″

13. Alexander “Skip” Spence – “Lawrence of Euphoria”

14. Curtis Mayfield – “Move On Up”

15. Saccharine Trust – “Belonging to October”

16. Dredd Foole and the Din – “Not The Same”

17. Suicide – “Beggin’ For Miracles”

18. Theoretical Girls – “Keyboard Etude”

19. Sproton Layer – “Jam From Outer Space”

20. Elvis Costello – “Psycho (Live at the Palomino Club, 1979)”

21. The Who – “Tattoo”

22. Faust – “So Far”

23. Bad Brains – “With The Quickness”

24. The Jean-Paul Sartre Experience – “Jabberwocky”

25. Dream Syndicate – “Tell Me When It’s Over”

Now, I can delude myself and @docbaty about what a gloriously eclectic list that is (and that’s just an eighth or so of the whole), but let’s be frank – this is just your standard, everyday, self-conscious hipster lineup: a little classic R&B/soul to break up the wave of ivory that is the remainder of the list, only the hippest and cleverest classic rock artistes (the ‘Oo, the Dan, Skip Spence), oh-my-god-so-cool cover versions and pastiches, a tiny touch of electronica or whatever new term has been coined for it since 1998, some old-school punk (from when it meant something, F8k3rs!), bootleg selections from most of the more well-known artists up there, and a whole lotta indie-bred one-moreobscuremanship (not Mission of Burma/Sonic Youth/Minutemen [though they're all represented on the full playlist], but MoB/SY/Mm offshoots and antecedents; arcane choices from the Flying Nun and SST catalogues; and a few bands/artists that even I’ve barely heard of). Is this the scowling face of community-college rock at it’s you’re-too-hip-baby worst?

Should I perform some kind of act of penance for deciding to remove that Donnas song I liked once I started hearing it on the radio and seeing them perform it on SNL (or was my job, at that point, done)?

Am I revealing a ever-deepening scatalogical displacement meme right now, an ever-hardening artery of out-of-touchedness by even concerning myself with such things (the twenty-and-under-somethings being sure to look upon my 33-year-old tastes with undisguised, heavily-pierced contempt)? Should I be concerned that I’m not sure whether the Lucky Sperms track I downloaded from iTunes and uploaded to my iPod before listening to it may or may not have been transferred from 7″ to MP3 at the wrong speed? Or should I just relax, admit that I love all this stuff despite all my contortions, and consider putting that Rick Springfield song I heard backing up the funniest sequence in Wet Hot American Summer that I couldn’t remove from my consciousness for almost a week after wards up there next to my fave Go-Betweens, Fall and Spacemen 3 brain-spasms, since, hell, who will listen to these thing (or reads this post) but me anyway and I’m just indulging in these kinds of thoughts to avoid contemplating the forthcoming decimation of life on earth as we know it when the republicans sweep the whole show again after a Karl Rove inspired surprise act of contempt against American values – again?

So, enough – anyone know Doc Baty @docbaty? See – you learn something new everyday. Check it out. It’s guarenteed to give you an express ticket to an institution – maybe even the same one he was committed to. I heard he shared a 6×9 with @livlab and @mariobourque the Canadian abstract recapitulationist. I think most of this is spelled out in his upcoming feature length “Mario’s Lovepulp.”

Ditritus: Kid Versimilage, The DJ Wonderslut

What with nothin’ ventured, nothing gained, and my goings on are wrought with ambivalence to the living (and wrung hands and gnashed teeth and…) in my waking life, I am now forced to dredge my subconscious to provide what fleeting interest this Gather love snot of a maddening man may have.

|| Hence, for all you somnolence fans out there, a synopsis of last night’s dream:

I see myself reflected in glass and blue steel in the middle of a large crowd in the lobby of a movie theater (all pristine Kubrickian white walls, gleaming surfaces and what appears to be fiber-optic bonbons), Gathered to catch the five-minute teaser for the long-awaited comic-book epic, Ludolf’s Lovepulp, and after no small amount of jostling among the capacity crowd (with one poor soul somewhere in the middle crying, “Beat me, bitch, Beat My Meat! I’m here to see Ludolf’s Lovepulp!“), we eventually make it into the cavernous auditorium and seat ourselves libidinously.

The house lights dim and a roar comes up as the giant convex screen before us is filled with a rapid-fire, quick-cut montage of our favorite comic-mag heroes made flesh at last – Laura OctoMuse, Professor Leverenze, Philip S. Nudelman, Esq., Billy Bob Thorton as John Q Walter; a montage that lasts all of fifteen seconds before the screen goes black and the bombastic score falls dead, replaced after a few, uncomfortable seconds by the image of the film’s director, slumped against a wall with a troubled look in his eye.

He’s not identified on-screen, but I recognize him immediately from his trademark black suit, graying tuft of hair, gaunt, slightly pinched features and the Dunhill cigarette he’s holding with a peculiar sort of Euro-Trashy affectation of gleeful indifference. Surprised, I cry out: “Holy shit! That’s Me – Fuck, I am a sexy mofo! Wait – No – I have become Ludolf Grolle.”

Hundreds of glares turn in my direction, all bearing that mixture of contempt and bewilderment I’ve come to know so well. Outburst aside, it’s obvious that no one has the slightest idea what I’m talking about (nor, probably, should you, unless you’re Jewish, a bad-nineties-movie aficionado nonpareil, an NPR junkie or someone who’s read the two previous abortive attempts at my writings abortive state on this very Gather site – briefly, I am a writer/prognosticator of truth who made quite a lucrative living in Hollywood by writing the screenplays for some of the most cynically commerce-driven drivel of the 1990s {you haven’t heard of them – so why comment here} before retreating to Cambridge and becoming a national hero in the mid-Oughts via my hilariously dark-humored satire of network politics, the success of which evidently went to my head in a major way, pent-up auteurist dreams I’d been holding on to since at least last night. (No one seemed to know, notice, nor care), something with a touch of Borges, a little Satyricon, maybe, or maybe if Mordecai Vissler and Atom Boy had collaborated on an episode of Mr. Loveslut Pimped My Ride…” you would understand my narcissism.

He starts to tremble slightly and a tremor creeps into his voice as he continues, suddenly unable to complete sentences. “And I’d… Cheese-Steak Existentialism… Nights of Cabiria… Italo Calvino… Al Waxman… parchment beef… Aldus Huxley… Mini Driver… John Haslett-Cuff… choas magick… Williams-Sonoma… Godiva… Dresden Dolls… Brecht…”* That last word comes out as a brief choking hack and he falls silent, slouching even further against the wall, staring balefully at an indistinct point somewhere to the right of the camera, blowing misshapen smoke rings in its direction with an enigmatic half-smile on his face (the left half) until the five minutes runs out. Instead of the usual bombastic-fanfare-accompanied “COMING SOON” at the end, the words “Slippery When Wet – January 07″ appear, backed only by the thin, lonely buzz of a reel running out.

The lights come up and I realize that the entire audience has cleared out; all, that is, but the young superfly TNT hipster couple asleep a few seats down. I nudge them as I walk past and they jerk awake, started. “Oh! I can’t believe we fell asleep before it even started!”, one says (I’m not sure which one because they’re both moving their mouths and neither is in sync with what’s being said).

“We’ve been waiting for this for years! So – what’d you think?”**

I look at them for a long minute, then break into a smile. “It’s gonna be great,” I say.

*An actual quote. My dreams are nothing if not meticulously researched.**

** Ah, shit. They really don’t want to know what I think.

Recent Nicknames I have been called, mostly behind my back:

  • The Velvetine Slackhammer
  • Sweetcakes Chumthroat
  • The Anthropomorphic Yiddisheit
  • Mad Dog Eunuch
  • The Sanitation Engineer
  • Attorneys General of Love
  • The Malfunctioning Bunkmeister
  • Kid Versimilage, The DJ Wonderslut
  • The Stammering Butcher
  • Metrosexual Love Tort
  • Hubris Amplified
  • Lynn Chaney’s Snatch