Thursday, June 21, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Natural law mocks the reductionist. Artists mock our human ego to its foundation but only for the brain chemistry that comes with elitist satisfaction. Feigning anthropocentric distance, posthumans practice fluidity of self-definition. We are the studying machines made of meat, worms on two feet, bacterial bioreactors, and overgrown drosophila; there is no human. Certainly there is no superior spectacularity of essential humanity. We love dross and sculpt to refine our aesthetics. These days that includes sculpting our kindred. We are breeding for pleasure in a world of hurt. Our children will be posthuman but not superhuman. Bodily enhancement suffers the same pangs as other aesthetic qualms… passé-ism includes all versions of human being. And we are proud not to be proud.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
Yeah, that's about the size of it...
