Panopticonscientious Objections

“Cyberspace is real,” claims President Obama, for whom,like a textbook synesthete—metaphors are concrete. The Metaphortean may offer swampland in virtual space, gothic high-tech ruins for weekend getaways, a scenic route between (and betwixt) (atempo)realities.  If cyberspace is real it is overcast, beset with atmospheric perspectives, bouts of bad weather. Cloudy with a chance that mini-van-like moons will plummet from outer spaces.  Pleading the fifth(dimension) —these zombie sats do not. Networked objects warrant their own shadow-forms, accidents unseen, things out of the internet (crawling chaoses), malevolent spimes.  The shadow of the ghost is a dead drop.  Mini-van-like moons, are, of late, construed as meteoric sympathizers and perhaps advocates of the altruistic drone, or,  to use a rising star amongst adjectives — a zombie drone, drifting on its own accord, a meandering ‘cross wounded galaxies.

Reciprocally antagonistic, military industrial complexions color the possibilities anomalous– that there mightn’t be an unmanned vehicle directed in a manner that temporarily reduces  indifference while increasing another vehicle’s différance.  Offset iterations, reticent swarms, amplifications of a fumbled keystroke from a distracted operator, glocal anaesthesia, a muted cry of empathy issued from a futured (discontinued) self.

W.Powell’s fateful flight provides an obtuse example, albeit, one that is contextually rogue–behaving as though it were acute.  Truly this is the terrain of the paramilitaristic rather than the parliamentary, it yields the paranormal only by proxy.  Occultic, really, a redacted memory of things seen in the sky.  Of other nuances, the cluttered stellar maw ponders satellites positioned politically or poetically, which will, on occasion, find themselves — in free fall—

Yonder, e-waste falls from the sky, a ghost story for the txt generation, hard-hitting hint fiction: blunt and to the point.  Panopticonscientious Objectors negotiating immediate and mediated environments, temporal ecologies, the externalities of progress.

The squeaky nodes abandon indifferent fields, naked facts jostling loose of the regular flows, calling attention to hertzian space (always already there)  Attention towards networked societies pleading the fifth [in all senses], or otherwise administering points of pontification, soapboxes for Flying Dutchmen deniers.

Zombies of the Stratosphere

Zombies of the stratosphere orbit to the telecommands of a different station.

A viewpoint amongst many others, obsolescence of any particular interpretive scheme can be thwarted by on-going engagement.

Of ideological constellations, orbital urbanism is a rising star. A navigational system for negotiating the densities and heterogeneities of what once was quite aptly known as space.

Contrary to conventional patterns and operations, so-called “zombie-sats” gesture against the facilitation of networks, the providing of services, images and information.  Dropping their typical geosynchronous orbits, communications and tasks, wayward satellites call attention to the attractions of the void that persists beyond the celestial cityscape.

Zombified arrays of luminescent, sky-flung objects de-orbit and meander like pinball wizards in the cluttered stellar megalopolis.  ”Space” is crammed even now with spent rocket stages, lost equipment, miscellaneous debris and meteoric sympathizers.  Discriminating actors, zombie-sats are informed by  a vision of temporary autonomous zones. Misfit to the function of stationary nodes, connect-the-dots portraiture popularized in antiquity does not compute.

Tetraditional Economy II

Astronomically inclined visions of the apocalypse accumulate in accelerated fashion by way of wayward zombie-sats.

Apocalyptic aspirations aside, take out too many satellites and doom-sayings  will be curtailed by network failures and spotty service.

Satellites themselves, perjoratively described as “zombies,” have retrieved a new found freedom as they wander and wonder through the cosmos, dropping their typically designed functions, enjoying the attractions of the terrain.

Towards an orbital urbanism, all manner of space craft now echoing Guy Debord in their satellite footprints amidst heterogeneities and densities of debris

Comets and other old-school astrological signs are obsolesced in this schema, while light pollution alone  may condemn all prophecy-mongering astronomy on its own terms.

Murmurs of Dearth

“Wherever streams of consciousness and electrons converge in the cultural imagination, there lies a potential conduit to an electronic elsewhere” -J.Sconce, Haunted Media

Ethereal power streams with confluent tributaries of revenue and waste are not uncommon flows within the Metaphortean morass.  Within this marsh-like expanse, a dredging up tomorrow’s tech failures, as so curiously dramatized in the sinking of  “progress“, a de-orbited space vessel bloated with garbage plunged into the Pacific off the coast of Christmas island circa 2007. A perverse mode of allegory, all told!

Cargo cultivation may yet materialize around any manner of orbital debris as the pinball wizardry of Kessler’s Syndrome runs its course.  Hardcore archivo-futurists drool over dramaturgies latent in the Voyager Golden Record, an alienated artifact, and a speculative example of future influence, to be discussed presently.

Of interstellar recordings, preparations, shakedown and maiden flight within the Voyager probe, circa 1977 much could be discussed. Of particular import is this project’s encounter with a retrocausal kernel of influence, or, in etymological terms: a streaming ethereal power from the stars that acted upon it’s character (etymonline)

Effect: last minute delays are encountered in task of acquiring clearances for copyrighted images. Murmurs of dearth, of information impoverishment and other ostensibly “ghosted” queries emergent on tips of tongues tied up over then recently codified acts including, but not limited to, fair use.

Cause: a retro-active emanation from the future invention of Creative Commons licenses which, in the long run (40,000 years +/-), aims to prevent any number of orphaned works or other proprietary issues in the outer reaches of our solar system, and beyond!

It is not inconceivable that this always already outmoded offering will be but an anomalous blip in some off-world above ground mining campaign. An out-of-place artifact amidst cellphone circuitry and other gold-laden electronic waste; its contents of secondary concern to local eScrap initiatives.

Dada Recovery

Mavens of Metaphorteana may recall reports of the curious ant colonies drifting in the electronic environments outside of Houston, TX. Micronauts in gremlin guise, feared, and perhaps now confirmed, to have set sights on NASA Mission Control.

As much could be concluded readily from the aeronautical assaults of our Moon, for starters. Ascertaining signs of lunacy, a dada recovery program?

Reports of the wayward Galaxy 15 satellite, too. Satellite footprints following those of Guy Debord, echoing on Earth the new trajectories of this precocious debris. Officials seranade the so-called “zombiesat” with swan songs, in hopes that it will give up its ghost. Copycat effects are feared in the orbital vicinity, while proponents of “accidental spontaneous generation of life,” ala Andrew Crosse’s prescient Abiogenesis claims, offer a conspiratorial claptrap for consideration.   A progressive, if nostalgic, response to combustions spontaneously occurring, or colonies curiously collapsing, or any number of insects abandoning audible airspace for the privacy of less ringtone addled frequencies.

Target Earth

While Portland, Earth reels back in splendorous springtime weather, it is elsewhere raining cats and dogs. More mesmerizing still are the Fortean falls of objects within Wisconsin’s borders, and the near simultaneous ricochet of videographic shadow forms criss-crossing the networked cosmos.

Psychic bombardments plummet to Earth, authorities determine it is not space junk, this time. More mesmerizing still is the looming prospect that these are derelict theory objects, ideas cooked up by the global brain some time ago, antecedent mental transmissions accumulating just outside of this Earth. Likely cast forth into the noospheric yonder in the dawn of dial-up. Returning now, the boomerang(e) of future influence upon the past. As the saying goes, amongst the ballistically inclined, “be sure of your target–and what is beyond it.”