My work at the moment? I don’t fucking know. Seem unable to find a window I can fucking open (I mean that literally and allegorically btw) The project is rightfully completely precarious because that’s the default mode of all workers these days to be a total liquid fucker like all currency. The difference being now I’m in virtually full-time employment on my first ever non-casual/temporary/contractor contract. So maybe a hard work? A master-fucking-piece? With the job, I’m supposed to be off the precarity bill but it’s all I’ve known until now – so what the hell – I’m left with an emptying out of some sensibility I only just thought I had but I’m glad I’ve woken the fuck up again from thinking I was a member of the oppressed. Good thing I read that article on the Monthly about Baby Boomers in Australia so I can again believe some institution has me in chains. Can I retrieve another sensibility from a clause on #accelerationism? Hell no! That’ll trip me up in no time and someone will see it before I do. Who wants to talk about catastrophe when most are already right in the thick of oppression? Like everyone’s just going to feel a twee jolt and then the collective shackles are off? What’s even the point man what’s even the fucking point
The era of the digital keyboard will soon be over; it is through speech that dialogue with machines will be initiated – not just with technical machines, but with machines of thought, sensation, and consultation. This practice may require redundant cognitive resources, slow reading speed, and detract from efficient transfer of written words to semantic understanding. We experience only the increasing speed of a local horizon, a simple brain- dead onrush rather than an acceleration which is also navigational, an experimental process of discovery within a universal space of possibility. It is the latter mode of acceleration which we hold as essential: Power on Overloading. Accelerate semiotic flows which let sources of information proliferate until they become the white noise of the indistinguishable, of the irrelevant, of the unintelligible.
You know I was born 3.5 years after Challenger went up never to come back down and just since the start of this year I’ve kept watching over and over that footage of it going up there and you know what’s going to happen but you never can guess that exact moment in the footage when it’s that high enough and the video is that far along and it’s all over before you know it’s started. I got onto it in what felt like a nothing-else-to-even-think-about way when I read the evidence around the likely time of death for the whole crew, where they know there’s good evidence much of the crew were conscious until some time quite late after the disintegration (not explosion, the fuel tank combined it’s oxygen and hydrogen but it wasn’t an explosion, the shuttle hidden on the other side of the footage just disintegrated from severe areodynamic forces; vehicular breakup). Like reserve oxygen tanks were manually switched on, instruments in the cockpit were adjusted and there was no damage to the crew compartment that would be consistent with the kind of sudden depressurisation that would knock the crew out instantly and kill them. The point from where Challenger disintegrated is a 2.5 minute drop to the Atlantic which would have ended anyone still looking at the ocean rushing towards them. You can actually see the crew compartment come free in the footage of the disaster and just hurl like a free bit of a broken toy without wings or power or anything just freefalling freewheeling with nothing to do but just watch and breathe. The other thing that got me is if this was the nail in the coffin for the space age just 17 years after Apollo 11 – what did it do beyond the obvious tragedy to actually tell people to stay put for now on this dying Earth? You know, I think part of it comes from viewing any footage of a Shuttle launch and if you’re not introduced to it you’ll inevitably ask “is this Challenger?”. Because you’re watching this thing just through shear brute combustible petrochemical force push itself into orbit. Like an Olympic pool’s worth of fuel every 30 seconds to do this. And it looks so flimsy, delicate, just against all odds and shaking like hell to get up there. And you know if anything goes wrong – like the O-rings as they did here or anything else that would mean they are not going to get all the way – what the hell can they do? It’s just game over, no recourse, sitting ducks thinking their defying God’s green (NASA’s not an officially atheist organisation). I think everyone saw that and what it actually takes for space to be a possible mode of exploration at present – and at the level of current vehicular technology – saw that combustible fuel and thought “no, that’s not fucking space age.” Space age is proton beams or another fictional propulsive force, not something discovered in the 19th Century to combust violently. I went looking through Ballard knowing he’d say something about this and he fucking did too! He advocated for a shut down of NASA – and speculated that there was a public uneasiness with space exploration in part due to these rocket ships belonging more in the era of brute force industrialism like steam engines and coal-fired ocean liners. The sadness really being most of Ballard’s dead astronauts were still orbiting the Earth forming new celestial phenomena that through the generations becomes schoolbook-recitable constellation but these deaths were only ever told from the angle of 4 cameras with no heavenly tomb. But maybe the thing that really got me is this footage is just replayed any time like it always has been replayed and as I’ve only known life after this event it’s like it’s always been without question. Just stuck in a hypermedia loop which tells you everything about something you’ll never know alterity to.