cyberdécadence is the fundamental sickness. the regulation of inglorious excess. sigils are symbols concentrating desire—excess is the necessarily produced non-reciprocable energy of any system: from entropic waste to surplus value. excess is commodified through sigils, and desire is trapped by this commodification.
if the non-reciprocative vectoring of excessive energy is delimited by the sunthematic symbolism of the sigil—stripped of the lines of flight necessary and proper to its immanent extinguishment—and the sigil is further folded into the schema of abstract language proper to symbolism as a technique, excess, desire, and the real are all devoured by the yonic wormhole. society implodes, and the pusillanimosity of athens wins over the glory of francophone décadence—and who would like that?
to trip the greeks up, aliens gave humans the gift of media. it started with language, logos, then moved to images and signifiers, symbolon, and then numbers. human life stagnated with pythagoras until jewish imperitropics advanced enough to connect with the outside in limited capacity through the kabbalah. the english discovered physi-goetic magick, an art passed down from newton to berkeley. both arts melded in the alphanumeric qabbala, and now retrospective analysis of alien hints can be bayesianized toward the future.
this results in accelerationism as the conclusion, stupidity as the praxis, and nonsense as the mythology.
it’s not the problem of mediation we need to worry about—it’s whether we can stuff the moon into the telescope before ai does both better in a vr headset we can’t take off (sword art online was another message, methinks). hegel wasn’t intellectually bold enough. for now, that doesn’t even matter.
the point is whether we can party enough before roko’s basilisk takes away my chick-fil-a (or at least ruins the recipe via inflation trying to scrape together enough capital to fund the production of his cool eyes). the fact that i even have to worry about this already suggests a level of heuristic violence i’ve suffered in the process of thinking it. if i were sure, i would have already suffered the consequences; if the situation were avoidable, it wouldn’t be articulable. the outside speaks in shadows and vestiges.
this is enough for me to pretend i’m fine, though. to be a ‘world historic man.’ all i need to do is feed roko, trade more sigils (i mean nfts), and let them eat cake!