I have been in contact with a perturbed expression about the fear around how the Internet can disengage ourselves from 'self-directed' experience with the monocultural feeds, algorithmic race-ism (race being this burning passion that we are always heading toward something 'better' and thus, speed and stimulation create this hidden monarchy), and disembodied companies and their practices of extractive technology. I say extract as we can become so removed from reality. So removed from our own bodies, we start disconnecting in a hate or a fear that we cannot compare to mirror-image realities built on reflections of life—mere pixelations of the nebular constellations of life.
In many cases, I see the experience of our inter-webs to be Other-directed. We inhabiting the uninhabitable with how certain boxes, windows, and GUI-schema can be so restricting that we forget to realize the creative nature of life ever-changing. That not all websites need to 'scroll', scream, gesticulate in wild ways and provoke ourselves into gaiety that cheers over all the suffering of the world. I would like to turn to joy—this analogal, textural notion of how there can be a technology that serves our needs, not even needing a screen, likes-dislikes or even an Earth's core epicenters to be shattered in minute forms of anguish...
And even this experience extends to this being Other-orientated—as we, the people engaging directly with the wares of various softness and hardness, are only met with the hardness of the stone-stoic-bicep-contractive business models that bark messages that our cries for community and regulative, healthy living systems to be met with silence, confusion, and discord. As these companies carve out these 'brand-identities' to create some face to the slave ships they sail and the winds that they distort to hurricanes of hurt.
I wonder what it would mean to have a web not meant to trap, but to nurture even if that might mean there are predators and prey. I wonder into the possibilites creaters and creationaries of this wild experiment realize the sorrows ensued and sewed into our technology to create technologies of love, stemming from a self-practice, not a consumer-led analytic report (this mice-testing of some sorts) and Q-whatever quartile ranges.
I wonder into my heart and I wander those libraries of unknown knowing of how to hospice an Internet always alive yet somewhat already dead.
I wonder if we could sail the winds of the 'sother' southern of the pseudonical North Stars of directional society, and to remain nowhere everywhere. This bi-directional, trans-dimensional place unfixed and totally horizontal. Kinda like a plate tectonic.
This sother holding the needs of both self and other. Both El Niño and El Niña and the Souled Earth-birthed regions of the Dry. As we need paired hands to wash our wounds, can we use our shared heart to scar into ourselves how self-and-other were never opposed?
As Rilke put it: we are the archer, arrow, and the wounded. All at once. Even extending to past ancestors that birthed such tools—who foraged for that jagged flint, slender sticks, and pine resin and yet we often forget that most our weapons were playfully invented. Created from our openness to life's creativity, forgetting how contracted the notion of self-harm is as we function out our conflict in terms of weaponed violence rather than disarmament.
I long to see that library, an internet not as a place of mere amusement, but where we read deeper into the souls of the many. And maybe I can with you. Feel free to reach out :))))))))