#baudrillard

[thirdity]

Thanks to the machinery of the virtual, all your problems are over! You are no longer either subject or object, no longer either free or alienated — and no longer either one or the other: you are the same, and enraptured by the commutations of that sameness. We have left the hell of other people for the ecstasy of the same, the purgatory of otherness for the artificial paradises of identity.

Jean Baudrillard, The Transparency of Evil: Essays on Extreme Phenomena

[funeral]

One is dead in one’s lifetime itself; multiple deaths accompany us, ghosts that are not necessarily hostile, and yet others, not dead enough, not dead long enough to make a corpse. […] At any rate, we have all already been dead before living, and we came out of it alive. We were dead before and we shall be dead again after. […] Death and life can reverse themselves from this standpoint. And this implies another presence of death to life, because it – not simply an indeterminate nothingness, but a determinate, personal death – was there before and it does not cease to exist and to make itself felt with birth. […] This connects up with the genetic process of apoptosis, in which the two opposing processes of life and death begin at the same time. In which death is not the gradual exhaustion of life: they are autonomous processes – complicit in a way, parallel and indissociable.

Jean Baudrillard, The Intelligence of Evil

[suffercute]

simulacra

[weil-weil-lautre]

The moment a thing is named, the moment representation and concepts take hold of it, is the moment when it begins to lose its energy--with the risk that it will become a truth or impose itself as ideology. It is when a thing is beginning to disappear that the concept appears.

Jean Baudrillard, "Why Is there Nothing Rather than Something?" (2007)

[bloodsappho]

We must grasp that Art no longer functions as metaphor.

A photograph, a film, a song, is no longer a representation of a character, an era, an archetype.

Representation and reality are no longer distinct. They feedback into one another.

The new breed of Artists like Ethel Cain have grasped this. Art is not about making a representation. It is about creating a self generating and self sustaining reality tunnel.

It is not music, it is not cinema, it is not fashion. It is a collective voodoo ritual, spanning cyberspace and meatspace, folding backwards and forwards without respect for ordinary, linear time.

Tumblr is the perfect ceremonial ground, where high intensity eroticism, totem figures, algorithms and rapid feedback buttons overlap.

“It’s happening to everybody” captures this experience. Once you’re in the tunnel, you’re hooked.

God can’t save you because he works via his angels.

They are being born out of our dataflesh in realtime.

[immortaleven]

close the door, let me in

[las-microfisuras]

La seducción de los ojos. La más inmediata, la más pura. La que prescinde de palabras, sólo las miradas se enredan en una especie de duelo, de enlazamiento inmediato, a espaldas de los demás, y de su discurso: encanto discreto de un orgasmo inmóvil y silencioso. Caída de intensidad cuando la tensión deliciosa de las miradas luego se rompe con palabras o con gestos amorosos. Tactilidad de las miradas en la que se resume toda la sustancia virtual de los cuerpos (¿de su deseo?) en un instante sutil, como en una ocurrencia –duelo voluptuoso y sensual y desencarnado al mismo tiempo– diseño perfecto del vértigo de la seducción, y que ninguna voluptuosidad más carnal igualará en lo sucesivo. Esos ojos son accidentales, pero es como si estuvieran posados desde siempre en usted. Privados de sentido, no son miradas que se intercambian… signos puros, intemporales… Todo sistema que se absorbe en una complicidad total, de tal modo que los signos ya no tienen sentido, ejerce por eso mismo un poder de fascinación extraordinario.

_ Jean Baudrillard, De la seducción. Madrid: Cátedra (2001).

_ Paul Tanqueray, Ethel Mannin, 1930s.

[soisaidfine]

Simulacrum. U2 / Ethel Cain / Baudrillard

'If I could, you know I would If I could, I would let it go. This desperation, dislocation Separation, condemnation Revelation, in temptation Isolation, desolation Let it go'

U2: Bad

...

I apathy II disruption III curiosity IV assimilation V aggrandization VI delineation VII perversion VIII resentment IX separation X degradation XI annihilation XII desolation

Ethel Cain / Jean Baudrillard: 12 pillars of simulacrum

@mothercain

...

ethel cain: all hail the avocado of simulacra

...

ethel cain: simulacrum is ruining my life

...

[the-apparatus]

I got one of my mutuals fixated on MCR again, this is a huge win

[thirdity]

Art is dead, not only because its critical transcendence is gone, but because reality itself, entirely impregnated by an aesthetic which is inseparable from its own structure, has been confused with its own image. Reality no longer has the time to take on the appearance of reality. It no longer even surpasses fiction: it captures every dream even before it takes on the appearance of a dream.

Jean Baudrillard, Simulations

[909th]

“Everyone seeks their look. Since it is no longer possible to base any claim on one's own existence, there is nothing for it but to perform an appearing act without concerning oneself with being - or even with being seen. So it is not: I exist, I am here! but rather: I am visible, I am an image -look! look! This is not even narcissism, merely an extraversion without depth, a sort of self-promot­ing ingenuousness whereby everyone becomes the manager of their own appearance.”

Jean Baudrillard, The Transparency of Evil: Essays in Extreme Phenomena

[funeral]

My double not only ‘signifies imminent death’, it becomes my corpse in place of me, for its becoming and signifying my own death is also the prelude to its death. This materialization of the double, of the clone, is just my corpse becoming itself, my dream of my other me extinguished by the reality that can no longer accommodate the possibility of oneiric detachment. The confusion between the original and the clone, between the cadaver and the living, takes place at the precipice of the illusion of identity and of meaning’s inhering in matter.

Gary J. Shipley, Stratagem of the Corpse: Dying With Baudrillard, a Study of Sickness and Simulacra

[noosphe-re]

Here, however, lies the task of any philosophical thought: to go to the limit of hypotheses and processes, even if they are catastrophic. The only justification for thinking and writing is that it accelerates these terminal processes. Here, beyond the discourse of truth, resides the poetic and enigmatic value of thinking. For, facing a world that is unintelligible and problematic, our task is clear: we must make that world even more unintelligible, even more enigmatic.

Jean Baudrillard, The Vital Illusion

[opalid]

Things must be pushed to the limit, where quite naturally they collapse and are inverted.

— Jean Baudrillard, Symbolic Exchange and Death

[illusoryfem]

you see baudrillard gets it since organized religion has gone out of vogue everyone needs something else to feel that they belong in the order of things that's why whenever a girl asks me my sign i answer it absolutely seriously and hear her feedback on my birth day & hour like it was a choice i made after much thought, and while that conversation lasts fate & destiny exists and the entire universe is utterly organized. but it's temporary amusing nonsense which is why i' can't remember any of my friends' signs even though i'm pretty sure i've heard them all at some pont. in this sense i enjoy astrology like i could enjoy being an actress on a play where someone else chose my role and i suspect that most people enjoy it in this way as well. or maybe i'm just projecting.

i also feel like this when i listen to sufjan stevens. for four minutes god is real amen

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Il n'y a pas d'aphrodisiaque comme l'innocence.

- Jean Baudrillard