4: The Indomitable Gaze of the Other
The cartel discovers that traditions haven't left the zone entirely.
The cartel discovers that traditions haven't left the zone entirely.
A couple of Sermons about the origins of religion in collaboration with James Reeves of Midnight Radio.
The cartel looks to replace the male gaze of the movies with the Nietzschean void's famous stare-back.
The cartel travels into the near-far to find new technologies of remapping the body, so that it might manifest the invisible rather than merely make visible.
The visible is foregrounded by an obscured background, so that revealing relies on what can't be seen for its presentation. But can the darkness appear in its invisibility without reducing it to the merely visible?
LLMs may have code, but they can't touch the Lacanian Real, so they don't have the Symbolic either, since human language is a relation between what it discloses in the register of the Symbolic and what it hides in the register of the Real.
Jorge Luis Borges has a famous short story called "On Exactitude in Science," in which a cartographer makes a map that is as large as the territory that it covers. What can this tells us about the relation between models and the reality that they proport to disclose?
Uncomputable problems seem to indicate that not everything can be known, especially because of their relation to Godel's Incompleteness Theorem. However, it all comes does to how one interprets "incompleteness."
Evolution by natural selection seems to show gap's of indeterminacy within its "total" determination of niche construction. Could the "natural" selector be less "blind" than was once assumed?
I'm working on a theory for a dream project. If we are prediction machines, then dreams are for scenario rehearsal. If we are more than this, then dreams are for something more as well.
Are dreams for prediction machines to process information and rehearse for possible future scenarios? Or is there evidence that they may be for something more?
The most direct road to the lost sacred is through the fucked up landscape of dreams. Shifting through this nighttime trash is to enjoy the warped detritus of the Real.