In arid and climate-stressed Spain, one of the groups calling for a moratorium on new datacenters calls itself Tu Nube Seca Mi Río – Spanish for “your cloud is drying my river”. The name is fitting, and not just for Spain.
An unspeakably dismal choice is being made before our eyes and without our consent: machines over humans, inanimate over animate, profits over all else. With stunning speed, the big tech megalomaniacs have quietly rolled back their net-zero pledges and lined up by Trump’s side, hellbent on sacrificing this world’s real and precious resources and creativity at the altar of a vampiric, virtual realm. This is the last great heist, and they are getting ready to ride out the storms they themselves are summoning – and they will try to defame and destroy anyone who gets in their way.
A raccoon society tryptich
Yesterday, the raccoon society met once again, for the purposes of digging through trash and collaging it into some art.
After the placing of our ceremonial raccoon, Matt and I got to work on a triptych each.
Here's mine. I'm calling it An embarrassing position
And here are the individual panels in closer detail
Then came The Wheel of Fortune at the very moment when we were expecting a more detailed description of the world of the Moon, which would allow us to indulge in the old fancies of an upside-down world, where the ass is king, man is four-legged, the young rule the old, sleepwalkers hold the rudder, citizens spin like squirrels in their cage's wheel, and there are as many other paradoxes as the imagination can disjoin and join.
-Italo Calvino, The Castle of Crossed Destines
translated by William Weaver
On my way to meet a friend at the Warhol Museum the other day, I came across this clever little provocation I'm sure Warhol himself would have appreciated.
Good on you, whoever thought to put "Thomas Tull" and "Acrid Turd Stadium" flags in dog shit.