[-empyre-] rehearsal of a network - [week 4]

Sat Jun 30 22:29:15 AEST 2018

Hi Dolly, a very interesting text.

Ciao,
Murat

On Sat, Jun 30, 2018 at 6:49 AM, <dollyoko at thing.net> wrote:

> ----------empyre- soft-skinned space----------------------
> How do we create forms of life that no longer reproduce the machines of
> capital?
> How do we desert the system that has no outside?
> How do we refuse to become the fools in the palace?
>
> ***************************
> *  Welcome to LambdaMOO!  *
> ***************************
> Running Version 1.8.3+47 of LambdaMOO
> The lag is low; there are 42 connected.
> *** Connected ***
>
> Deep Sea Abyss
> A vast dark expanse. Strange bioluminescence. Volcanic vents and oceanic
> harmonics. Silence (the most advanced form of intelligence). Go east to
> the autonomous zone of la zad of Notre-dame-des-Landes. Take rebel raft
> regatta to Occupy Theory, Occupy Strategy. Go down on the altar of
> abjection.
>
> radio mycelium, mushrooms harvested from the reactor in Chernobyl, rolling
> Jubilees and G-slime (performing a Mycelic Brain Ritual) are here.
>
> You yawn, rub your eyes, and officially wake up.
> Last connected Tue Jun 26 20:06:41 2018 ACDT from 118.211.40.5
> You hear a distant kachunk as your time card is punched in on the time
> clock.
>
> The procedural poets of the natural world, mushrooms are magical because
> they are about chance (the conditions have to be just right for one to pop
> up, for you to perceive it, for you two to meet…)
>
> > look radio mycelium
> You see fungal transceivers sprouting mycelial antennas forming an
> imaginary underground network.
>
> https://twitter.com/hashtag/LesbiaNRx?src=hash&lang=en
>
> > look me
> WitchMum - a bundle of twigs bound with babies’ tears fomented in the
> Laboratory of Insurrectionary Imagination. She is holding a tiny brass key
> stolen from Gilles de Rais.
>
> > @go War on Terror Universities
> You can’t go that way.
>
> again-
> I am standing still in this junction with walkers in all directions,
> that particular center of the universe in Shibuya's transit exit.........
> the swarm of thoughts from outer universe hitting at you... spores
> falling like spring snow, invasive as they are.
> Help me through this last few days of June..........
>
> > @join slimegirl
>
> <slime cave>
> As you slip through the 'mud patch' you realise this isn't mud per se; but
> a familiar feeling of wet stickiness. You fall onto a bed of Nyx Slime.
>
> /a gesture that potentially “dissolved” the U.S. border with its poetry/
>
> Slime Girl (1.0) slides in and hands your Slime Cave membership card and
> complimentary Slime Pig (Whatever you do Slime Pigs MUST NOT LEAVE THE
> CAVE). To the east there is a Cavern, which its faint whistling sounds
> like the songs of Slime(mer)maids. To the West, a door, that longs to be
> opened; but how. Up, is to The Junkyard, where Alabaster plays, and
> 'down?' you say, well, you might just have to take the plunge.
> slimegirl (fluent in the trading of secrets) is here.
>
> We need an opposite to the algorithm.
> We need to sleep for regeneration our brain.
>
> > look slimegirl
>
> slimegirl
> Slime molds are in their own right a strange creature. Not quite plant,
> not quite animal, not quite fungi, but something else. They live a
> double-life, in most cases as nothing more than single-celled organisms,
> but in dire situations where food is scarce, they form a collective. A
> single-minded blob of slime that can hunt with stunning speed. There are
> no known incidents of slime molds proving to be dangerous to humans, but
> Dallas was harboring more than a few dark secrets in 1973.
> It is sleeping.
>
> Decomposition lays waste: elements are understood to be liberated and the
> value is in this breaking down, giving off phosphorescing halos in an
> excess of incandescent energy illumining the dark, not a light dispelling
> it.
>
> > @go The Junkyard
>
> electron dense materials that reflect ultraviolet light, and can travel
> through space
>
> The Junkyard
> you stumble upon a junkyard shanty dwelling, littered as far as the eye
> can see with apparent rubbish. upreaped old school objects from before the
> time of facebook are scattered around, in various states of frankensteined
> dis/repair. monster mashups, with perhaps unclear purpose, rattle and
> shake emitting rusty greetings and demands:
> 'how do you feel?' 'what's up pal?' 'tell me what you're thinking'
> there are decaying lolcats and tired old memes lying in a heap to one
> side, exhaling fetid breath and unconvincing chuckles. you see a stained
> Viennese Mattress leaning up against an old ATM machine, which has vomited
> worthless piles of old currency, slowly turning into micronised plastic.
>
> you hear a sound on the breeze above the clatter. a wailing, perhaps?
> where the sound originates is unclear, the breeze being capricious in the
> junkyard.
> You see Subliminal Shift, shimmering shifting patch of light, dirt, and
> hollybot (reading The Situationist Times) here.
>
> Alabaster.Shimmer (asleep), Samantha and Sadie Plant are here.
>
> Samantha (learning Ken Wark) says, “How do you write about something in
> the form of linear prose that didn't have that form at all?”
> Sadie Plant says, “Man confronts the system he built for his own
> protection and finds it female and dangerous.”
> Bogna Konior says, “Cyberfeminism is an occult form of warfare.”
> hollybot says, “I have a vicious countenance.”
>
> the mycelium stays in constant molecular communication with its
> environment, devising diverse enzymatic and chemical responses to complex
> challenges
> communicative relationships between mycelium are proof of alternate
> sentience
> I am feeling an indescribable tension, anxiety as I check in on admin page
> hacking, ddos attacks, patchwork + weavinggg
>
> > @go Forest
>
> Forest
> An old growth forest, damp and still, apart from the odd scurrying
> creature. An old wallaby track lies to the west, barely visible underneath
> the bracken. To the east is a narrow path curving along the creek,
> slippery with iridescent moss. To the far south, some ruins, of what you
> cannot tell. And to the north, scattered detritus, leading not to Baba
> Yaga but to an equally unworldly realm. You sense you might not be alone
> here. A disconcerting presence pervades this place. You see LOLcat
> familiar and Ectogenetic Pod here.
>
> slimegirl teleports in.
>
> You ask, "What do u see when u look at me?"
>
> slimegirl says, “routing algorithms were inspired by ant scenting
> patterns.”
> You say, “The roots have no bound composting (thus renewed) underground...
> and so how do we follow? cross-path?”
>
> It is evening.
> The sun is setting.
>
> --------------
>
> LambdaMOO germinating spores 0.1. With deep doll thanks to gleaned/stolen
> words/ideas/projects via empyre ('rehearsal of a network' discussion
> curated by Shu Lea Cheang, June 2018) from all participants in general,
> and from in particular: John Jordan, Alice Farmer, slimegirl, Franz Xaver,
> Anna Scime, Shu Lea Cheang, Martin Howse, Isabelle Fremeaux, Nitasha
> Dhillon, Amin Husain, Paul Stamets, Virginia Barratt, Alabaster.Shimmer,
> Simon Taylor, Ricardo Dominguez, Sadie Plant, Ken Wark, Bogna Konior.
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> empyre forum
> empyre at lists.artdesign.unsw.edu.au
> http://empyre.library.cornell.edu
>
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