Irrelefante

Olha, Dindi
Escuta, Dindi
Olha, Dindi
Adivinha, Dindi

Gal Costa cantando “Dindi”, do Tom Jobim.

Anotações: solidão, comunidade, internet como uma vizinhança

Devin Kelly:

What happens if what you once used to make sense of things no longer helps you make sense of things? What happens if the patterns and habits and metaphors we lean on do not serve us in the moments we need them? What happens if the stories we tell ourselves about our lives leave us lonely, wrestling with meaning? What then?

Craig Mod:

Well, I’ve been thinking about it my whole life. It’s difficult to remember a time where I didn’t feel alone or apart or “on my own.”

Aloneness sucks. It’s insidious and becomes habitual. It’s rapacious. It saps the spirit. It twists a peaceful dude all truculent and paranoid. It renders decision making oddly cumbersome. It’s more difficult to feel elevated as a human when swaddled in aloneness. Self-worth plummets as aloneness rises.

Aloneness is not just individual, of course. Entire communities can and do feel abandoned, alone, cut off from the world.

I was shocked by how easy it was for me to do this, to “do therapy.” Like I had been waiting my entire life for a patient, true listener. And here he was, a floating head on a screen.

I’ve found that the honesty I embody (“perform”) during those therapy sessions has spilled into the day to day. Honesty imbricated, a suit of honest. The proof is in life itself: I’ve had more emotionally resonant experiences of non-aloneness in the last five years than my entire life prior.

That’s the real joy of subverting aloneness — luxuriating in solitude. A wholly different, generative beast, apart from aloneness. Solitude is where you cash in on your non-aloneness savings. Retreating into solitude for the day in your backyard shed with no internet connection and a nice keyboard and laptop is one of the greatest feelings in the world, but only because you know you’re emerging at the end of it into a hug, a goofy animal bounding with nincompoop love, a curious kid, cooking dinner — something, anything, that will passively envelop you in non-aloneness, that will make you feel valuable.

I suspect I’ll be battling aloneness and depression for the rest of my life. But today, at 43, I’ve cobbled together my outré toolkit. And tomorrow today, when TOKIO TŌKYŌ TOKYO³ kicks off (the walking starts tomorrow, but the meditations on the walk begin tonight) I’ll be activating one of my most potent tools: days of walking strung together, using the body up, looking closely at the world, photographing, taking notes, greeting people with alacrity like some village idiot, thinking about what was, what is, and what could be in this strange, fleeting, often painful — but just as often breathtaking — world of ours.

Spencer Chang:

I like newsletters that feel more like dispatches than editorialized posts.

The world manages to find a way to strike you with the most indescribable beauty when you need it most.

How do we make websites feel more like embodied objects? What does a website that can become well-worn or passed down feel like? How does a website become a living gathering space, one that evolves with the activity of its participants?

Spencer Chang e Kristoffer Tjalve:

we think, that our “internet” comprises the same 10 apps, some flooded with ads and spyware, others with people yelling about everything and nothing. We accept that the only way to get anything useful out of the internet is by trading our privacy for accounts and our self-expression for conformity. Everything is always somehow broken and when social spaces die, we believe that it is how it has always been and that nothing will ever be different.

The Internet is so much vaster than a single worldview. It is a sprawling galaxy of archipelagos, filled with more humanity and personal gestures than any man-made archive.

Max Read:

The killer thinks of himself as having an unmatched clarity about his life and the world, but the movie mostly regards him as self-deluded. He botches his hits, he forms attachments, he misunderstands his own importance. Rather than being freed by his careful planning and elaborately articulated life philosophy, he’s trapped by his own paranoias and resentments.

“The killer as sigma male” is obviously not the only way to read this movie; as suggested in the footnotes you could see it as an personal story about a fastidious craftsman learning his own limits, or also a movie about how annoying work is, especially as a contractor. (To quote the killer’s favorite band: “this position I’ve held/It pays my way and it corrodes my soul.”)

But I like the sigma male reading because it reminds us that throughout his career Fincher has been in dialogue with the concerns of 4chan and the rest of Loser Internet

To be clear, I don’t think that Fincher is endorsing these ideas, specifically–except for goth gf–just that he’s interested in exploring them and the kinds of characters who believe them.What’s particularly interesting for such an internet-y set of ideas is that Fincher doesn’t really make movies “about” the internet–even The Social Network was a lot more about ambition, sociopathy, and freak loners than it was about “the internet,” per se. Instead, he made a body of work around a set of broad social (and gender) anxieties that have been particularly shaped by digital culture.

More to the point, it reminds us that the killer and his sociopathic boorishness live in the same tech-wrecked world as the rest of us.

What we get instead of “action,” it turns out, is a lot of travel and logistical work, which suggests that the funniest way to read the movie is “autobiographically”: it is, after all, roughly two hours of an meticulous and obsessive freak planning and executing a tightly scheduled multi-city production.

casualist-tendency:

Atsuko Tanaka (Japanese, 1932–2005), Untitled, 1983, 18.6 x 14.8 cm

O Washington Post publicou uma reportagem que usa imagens de evidências policiais em tiroteios em massa nos EUA, parte de uma série de reportagens sobre o papel da arma AR-15 na sociedade norte americana. É perturbadora, mas um dos trabalhos jornalísticos mais corajosos que eu já li.

Eu me emocionei assistindo a esse trailer para O Menino e a Garça.

Hoje eu pensei na Vivi enquanto eu fazia as malas pra voltar pra casa.

O Kurzgesagt comemora dez anos fazendo um longa-metragem: cada milhão de anos na Terra em um segundo.

Aftermath, o novo site formado por um grupo de jornalistas que saíram do Kotaku nos últimos anos, já mostrou a que veio. Nenhum outro site de jogos teria coragem de publicar um artigo sobre um jogo palestino, e foi isso que eles fizeram:

In a POSSE world, everybody owns a domain name, and everybody has a blog.

— David Pierce, “The poster’s guide to the internet of the future”.

Fotos do céu azul na minha viagem para Buenos Aires

Eu adoro acordar e ir pra cozinha na primeira hora da manhã. A luz, ainda azulada, do início do dia ilumina o balcão com calma. A cidade não acordou totalmente, e o frio da noite ainda entra pela janela da cozinha.