Refuge numérique

#9 - 07/05/2022 - 08:44

I stop thinking, I stop writing whenever I feel like the world is closing its claw on me. Like a darkness swallowing me whole, it seems Babylon’s most impressive prowess is to abduct me from time itself. For me there is no time. There is just do & make, clock-in & clock-out, value, profit, synergies, analysis.

Trading time for money. Money for time.

Time is money. Time is resource. Time is precious.

Time is all of that. But time isn’t mine.


#8 - 06/30/2022 - 16:20

Been meaning to write to my mum. 10 drafts later, I still cannot press “Send”. I just can’t. I can’t find the right words. I can’t say it in any other way but one that’ll start a fight. She keeps writing me texts to know what she could buy for the kids. But we don’t want her to buy anything. “We don’t need anything” I keep telling her. “We literally have everything the kids need.” But having everything is never fucking enough, is it?

I tried to tell her politely more than once. “Stop sending candies in these tiny little plastic wraps… actually stop sending candies at all.” We don’t need more sugar. We make cakes at home. We like to bake them, we like to eat them, it’s already a great privilege.

Stop sending cloth (hinted: made by enslaved women and kids), stop sending shoes, stop sending trash in the form of toys. We already have everything. And I mean it. We have so friggin much. Clothes for everyday of the week and every season, we have a tablet and a computer we use to watch cool stuff together, we have food, we have good beds + futons for visitors, we have cool toys that can last ages, we have bicycles, we have a little scooter thing that my son loves.

We have so, so, so much, I even fail to think of something we want, let alone need.

And listen, whenever I decline, she tells me: “this is my pleasure to spoil them, why do you make it such a big fuss? Why can’t I love them like any grandma?”

Because, me thinks, that’s not love? That cannot be loving someone. Actually, you know what, that’s probably the opposite of love. Thinking a cheap little token of plastic or cloth can buy yourself into people’s mind is frankly insulting.

She cannot spend more than 5 minutes with my son alone without losing her shit and the only alternative way of showing affection is buying trash.

Whenever she comes visit, she spends a majority of her time scrolling through newsletters, trash-selling websites, and watching 24/7 news. She doesn’t consume. She is consumed. She’s at the end of a life and she still cannot imagine any other way of showing affection other than by buying gifts. She lived 75 years without ever loving. Of course she’d still lean right. Of course, worrying for “the environment” is another pretext to buy newer shit. That’s just what some people have become. Empty. Sad. Incapable of love.

Still can’t press that “Send” button though. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.


#7 - 06/28/2022 - 08:33

Dear W., thank you for reaching out.

Your enterprise of reducing feedback delays between “clients” and “creatives” sounds very interesting and fresh. I totally vibed with your pitch: “when clients receive a PDF or a Figma file they can record their screen/audio and just speak out what they think” is totally a great idea. I agree that design critique from unqualified executives is 100% more valuable when captured live and unfiltered.

“It costs us time and money when there are delays” is something that I’ve had on my mind for a while too. In my experience, design shops suffer from spending way too much time on any given project and could really benefit from moving on to the next thing a little faster.

I am deeply honored that you thought of me to test the prototype of your software.

“I’m happy to cover your hourly rate, if it helps!” I would not really bother about this. My hourly rate is cheap and I’d rather give away the learnings of spending the last 10 years working in tech for free. We are one big family and whatever can help another bro to succeed is my treat.

Let me know how to proceed,

@mx3m


#6 - 06/24/2022 - 17:03

Babylon is an omnivorous, predictable, and nihilistic war machine. It it obsessed with power, control and growth. It can never feel sated, and perpetually desires to dominate its surroundings.

It is impossible to resist it frontally. Any effort to do so will be brutally punished.

This is a conscious effort to draw the outlines of the techno-beast.

MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE


#5 - 06/24/2022 - 13:36

I do feel more and more like running away. Running away together with the ones that I love and love me. Running away, but where? To another world. But another world within this world. An underground, the heart of a forest, the peak of a mountain, the ruins of an old civilization.

The act of running away, I start it from the inside. I claim the right to disengage.

I claim the right to do nothing.

I claim the right to redefine the road and the destination.

Maybe this isn’t a fight on reason. Maybe this isn’t even a fight on values or ethics. Maybe this isn’t a fight at all. Maybe this is an invitation to run away, be multiple, blend the real with the fantasy and ultimately, disappear.


#4 - 06/24/2022 - 08:39

Eight months ago, I was diagnosed with cancer which, as each can imagine, was a bit of a shock. Luckily, it was one of the “good ones” (TC). It’s so good, doctors don’t even poker face it. You’re more likely to die from COVID-19 than TC (goes without saying but that’s if you get treatment).

We caught it super early, I got surgery and was told there was no evidence of metastasis. Chances of it coming back (usually lymph nodes in my case) are about 20%, diminishing with time.

You know, before I had cancer, I thought people are cleared and then go back to their lives and sort of move on. I don’t know if I was naive, or lacked empathy but, evidently, that’s not what happened for me anyway. Every 3 months, I go in, get some scans, some blood test, physical exam. The week leading up to the results, I don’t eat/sleep very well, I get mood swings, I can’t focus.

And so my life has been paced by these events that are like waves in a way. I don’t care about them too much until I see them on my horizon and the closer they get to me, I start to brace myself and hope for the best. But anyway, what I was trying to say: life with cancer continues even when you think the cancer is out, and I had never given it any thought before.


#3 - 06/23/2022 - 13:18

“I’m a clone made out of plastics.”

I am not making allusions to micro-plastics being present in our organisms. I was just thinking, the moment I was born, my first heterogeneous1 skin contact is the plastic gloves of the midwife. My first meal, I eat it out of a bottle, through a silicon nipple. Pacifiers. Juice boxes. Mr. Freeze Pops. I may believe my outer envelope is skin today but what about then?

  1. This is an idea I borrow from André Stern. He describes being born as the passage from a homogeneous space to an heterogeneous one. In the womb, we aren’t cold, we aren’t hungry, etc. 


#2 - 06/23/2022 - 08:06

Started Decolonial Ecology: Thinking from the Caribbean World last night. I wake up this morning and keep thinking about the pseudo-universalism of the Anthropocene. It is rich to think mostly white people are represented in environmentalism, are seen discussing ecological concepts (and mostly in quantifiable terms: as in “when will water runs out”), build arches without realizing we are slowly eradicating colonialism and slavery both from the diagnosis and the storytelling.

Maybe I think, the collapse of all that lives isn’t the fruit of all humanity. Maybe it is important critical to acknowledge it could be born the precise moment we chained people in the hull of our ships? And what does it mean today for our common eco-sophy?


#1 - 06/22/2022 - 14:32

I’m laughing at yesterday’s internet point of failure but then I give it a minute and think most of human modern society is just as frail. That may not be laughter material. More some real doomer-anxiety-inducing shit.

The entire industrial world copied the Toyota model of fractioning business units and suppliers, their “just in time” perfect little logistical recipe, tend to stock as little as possible because business-gods-forbid stocking equals inefficiency equals profit loss. We traded so much of our own freedom and resilience for profit. And the worst of it all is we get almost none of it in our pockets anyway. Proof: I’ve been working for 10 years, save pennies, am still broke AF I don’t even own a home so the net gain from this shit is I can go hungry in a week if China decides to fart in the general direction of Japan one day, all so that some rich fuck can mine my brain everyday to get leather seats in his Cybertruck.