 |
| Simulation |
|
The illustrious Don Durito of the Lacandon Jungle, maximal representative
of the noblest profession that any human being has ever practiced:
knight-errantry (Sherlock Holmes, Humphrey Bogart, and Quixote with a
paper clip lance). Through the smoke of his pipe, I observe and
impersonate the last and greatest righter of wrongs, the famous knight to
whose greatness this simulation is dedicated. (Did I mention that he is a
bug?)
Act like you know what you're doing. Suppose that a young generation of 'World Leaders' has studied how to 'save' this planet in the only way in which that generation conceives of its salvation, that is to say, through media that shape the very order of their words, sampled and driven down the hyper-fast conduit of brutality and human imbecility: The Worship of the Image. Suppose that we manage to get access to notebooks full of notes from these students (without disclosing their identities of course, to protect the guilty). What would we find? Nothing! Well, almost nothing, perhaps there are a few doodles in the margins. Does this mean they're bad students? By no means! They're good and quick students. But it so happens that they've learned one single lesson in each subject that they studied. That lesson is always the same. They obtain exquisite levels of simulation, to the point that they construct a virtual reality in which everything works perfectly. Then it happens that they lose their understanding of the real reality and start to believe that the virtual reality that they created with strategic leaps of faith and simulation is the 'real' reality. But this schizophrenia isn't the only problem. It turns out that each student started to create his own virtual 'reality' and to live according to it. That's why each one perceives facts that contradict those of the others. But there's something that gives coherency to all of this "theoretical" incoherence. I've been analyzing several different clues. I read all of their thesises and treatises, I classified them according particular actions and omissions, I contrasted their semantic and rhetorical patterns, I analyzed even their most minute facial ticks, and I arrived at a very important conclusion. I can deduce from their perplexed expressions, their red eyes, the drool that drips from their parted lips, and the evident wear on the sole of their right shoes, that they have been running in a circular cybernetic feedback loop for some time. Their first name is Stupid, and their last name is Improvisation, and note that I say, 'Stupid Improvisation.' Because you ought to know, my dear Watson, that there are intelligent improvisations, but this isn't the case here. Intelligent improvisation requires some sort of prior experiences, of which these students have none. They exist in a paradox of mediation. They are both here and there, and consequently, fully in neither. Through the production of the image, their identity loses continuity and consistency to the benefit of the spectacle; through consumption of the image, their daily lives always become the image. The real is over there. I see it but I don't touch it; nor do I think it; unutterable, it disappears in a wink. The rate at which these students must re-align themselves to resonate with the proper distribution curves requires a very intense focal point, say no more than a few syllables in either direction of the instantaneous present. Nevertheless, all of these types pseudo-personages and freemasons that are depopulating the World via the Image, collapsing the daily into something we all have in common, and writing us a check for the difference, are obviously finding great strategic value in coveting those few precious moments around the event horizon. The question is then, how do we realign the clocks so they might choke on their words, and smear the screens with cakes of makeups. Putting a bit of a hiccup in the whole mess. And posed so, the answer becomes quite obvious. We must replicate and multiply our channels of dialogue in an exponential factor, until the numbers of inputs at any given moment overloads the capacity of virtual systems to adapt. The instant at which the anomalies of multiplicity outnumber the pigeon holes on the technocrat's allotted quota sheet for such disturbances, the "World Leaders" will have no one left to blame. This is why simulation is such an important resistance tactic. Try being three people, or five. However many you think that you can properly support. Far too many people think that they are only entitled to one name, or only two hands. Here's to hoping that all your simulacra come true.
Durito de la Lacandona |
| Send Us Your Best Durito Simulation |
