Doesn’t seem like the right vibe.
Welcome to Petafloptimism.
Doesn’t seem like the right vibe.
Welcome to Petafloptimism.
You should subscribe (if you’re human?) – Matt W’s blog is back, back, BACK!
Daniel Dennett, Intuition Pumps (my emboldening, below)
How can meaning make a difference? It doesn’t seem to be the kind of physical property, like temperature or mass or chemical composition, that could cause anything to happen. What brains are for is extracting meaning from the flux of energy impinging on their sense organs, in order to improve the prospects of the bodies that house them and provide their energy. The job of a brain is to “produce future” in the form of anticipations about the things in the world that matter to guide the body in appropriate ways. Brains are energetically very expensive organs, and if they can’t do this important job well, they aren’t earning their keep.
Matt Ward, interviewed by SpeculativeEdu
Colonising the future: If Speculative Design builds competency in thinking about future alternatives, the design community needs to ensure that it is aware of the structural inequalities that allow for a privileged voice. I think it’s become painfully obvious that we don’t need any more white male billionaires telling us how the future looks, therefore by moving Speculative Design outside of the “academy” we need to make sure it’s reaching people who don’t normally have say over the future. We should aim to empower alternative views about how the world could be.
It’s a great interview. Read the lot.
“Through gaps in the cloud layer she could see the light-but-dark blue of the Terran sky, subtle and full.
It looked like a blue dome flattened at the center, perhaps a few kilometers above the clouds—she reached up for it—although knowing too that it was just a kind of rainbow made it glorious.
A rainbow that was blue everywhere and covered everything. The blue itself was complex, narrow in range but infinite within that range.
It was an intoxicating sight, and you could breathe it—one was always breathing it, you had to. The wind shoved it into you!
Breathe and get drunk, oh my, to be free of all restraint, minimally clothed, lying on the bare surface of a planet, sucking in its atmosphere as if it were an aqua vitae, feeling in your chest how it kept you alive!
No Terran she had ever met properly appreciated their air, or saw their sky for what it was. In fact they very seldom looked at it.”
from 2312 by KSR
This caught my eye from Benedict Evan‘s latest newsletter
Baked into the chip – the nature of fighting.
The dynamics of violence between humans to be detected at the edge, reported to… wherever.
My mind drifted to a future Gibsonian street-fighting style that might be informed by this evolutionary pressure from an eye that can see all the fights of the past.
Resistance that looks like dance.
Generative/Adversarial martial arts for a robot-readable world.
The economic data we have collected shows clearly that the expense of the problems in the world now exceeds the cost of the solutions. To put it another way, the profit that can be achieved by instituting regenerative solutions is greater than the monetary gains generated by causing the problem or conducting business-as-usual. For instance, the most profitable and productive method of farming is regenerative agriculture. In the electric power generation industry, more people in the U.S. as of 2016 are employed by the solar industry than by gas, coal, and oil combined. Restoration creates more jobs than despoliation. We can just as easily have an economy that is based on healing the future rather than stealing it.
Drawdown: The Most Comprehensive Plan Ever Proposed to Reverse Global Warming
“Social media does not “get” not-fully-baked. Social media is useless for thinking out loud and exploring notions. Social media — bizarrely, given its nature — does not do context. I start a new notebook every year. Notebooks have internal context. Notebooks exist only to think about things, remember things and preserve things for later consideration. This is a notebook.”
Bruce Sterling’s short story was published in 1999.
I figure he must have written it at least twenty years ago now.
I still think of it multiple times every year.
Severe annual resonance increases.
NAFTA, Sphere, and Europe: the trilateral superpowers jostled about with the uneasy regularity of sunspots, periodically brewing storms in the proxy regimes of the South. During his fifty-plus years, Pete had seen the Asian Cooperation Sphere change its public image repeatedly, in a weird political rhythm. Exotic vacation spot on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Baffling alien threat on Mondays and Wednesdays. Major trading partner each day and every day, including weekends and holidays.
At the current political moment, the Asian Cooperation Sphere was deep into its Inscrutable Menace mode, logging lots of grim media coverage as NAFTA’s chief economic adversary.
As far as Pete could figure it, this basically meant that a big crowd of goofy North American economists were trying to act really macho.
Their major complaint was that the Sphere was selling NAFTA too many neat, cheap, well-made consumer goods. That was an extremely silly thing to get killed about. But people perished horribly for much stranger reasons than that.
At sunset, Pete and Katrinko discovered the giant warning signs. They were titanic vertical plinths, all epoxy and clinker, much harder than granite. They were four stories tall, carefully rooted in bedrock, and painstakingly chiseled with menacing horned symbols and elaborate textual warnings in at least fifty different languages.
English was language number three.
“Radiation waste,” Pete concluded, deftly reading the text through his spex, from two kilometers away.
“This is a radiation waste dump. Plus, a nuclear test site. Old Red Chinese hydrogen bombs, way out in the Taklamakan desert.” He paused thoughtfully. “You gotta hand it to ’em. They sure picked the right spot for the job.”
“No way!” Katrinko protested. “Giant stone warning signs, telling people not to trespass in this area? That’s got to be a con-job.”
“Well, it would sure account for them using robots, and then destroying
all the roads.”
“No, man. It’s like—you wanna hide something big nowadays. You don’t put a safe inside the wall any more, because hey, everybody’s got magnetometers and sonic imaging and heat detection. So you hide your best stuff in the garbage.”