brian carroll on Sun, 16 Jan 2000 19:22:08 +0100 (CET) |
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<nettime> death of the internetwork |
constellations of IP addresses star number 005.134.240.15 brightness of 100 Megabits cybernetic network rising an interstellar wave of bits microscopic particles, waves of matter, energy, information masking in the mind's eye a heaven above, a hell below, a purgatory of being and non-being mirroring existence, of nature to act, react, asymmetric, simulated a way to go forward, back hosted in this time-space machine routers, switches, servers, suspending the judgement of the deity a medium of exchange, ideology experts coding all words and ideas far, so far away from the real as paradise is found, and lost again in a super-human adam and eve, .com spectors magnifying each data set ghosts coursing through the veins of wires and cables, to curse a curse of freedom, a curse of death to the network, to the star, IPO and for a moment, all is possible but so improbable is the task, as fascism creeps in on this, our dying internetwork ... the unregistered domain, the hope, unrequited, undone with cartographers mapping electronic civilization, as if it were alive, breathing as if chaos and change exist, in this totalitarian artifice a walk outside, clear the mind seeing people rotting on the street coughing against the polluted air lost in a wasteland so vast, all details disappear grand designers gods and goddesses, preaching the web, preaching the future prophets on this, our dying internetwork, a vision so broad, of such a signal, a circus of daily bread, at your command, they say voices, in my head, haunting more and more, as the future looks like a perfected past one without a flaw, makeup and all, televised, broadcast there is no freedom left, as the unborn are already cast as slaves ... with thunder and lightning charging atmospheres of mind electromagnetic storms shutting down media and power of the individual e-states a virtual nature arises, its shadow orchestrating scores mountains fall, waters boil all bow to an epic seizure, blood spilling from mouth transforms into an oily wine the last beat, last breath of the monster of life, the network clenches itself, squeezes tight then sighs, turning limp as another star in the network dies ... black hole, swirling the topology of protocol the death star, once a heaven, sometime in the past, extinguished of all difference, of all change, of all life now, a commercial, an episode, fakery and deceit, decrepit, the futurists taking their paycheck from this virtual eden, now a morgue of lost souls of dead sights, links between people broken added to the compost heap, the network now a cemetery a constellation of stars intertwined in a story of civilization, what it once was to have been, what it is someday to become ... "look Grandmother," said the little girl, "look deep into the sky- there's the Internet." ... # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net