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The map is not the territory (02/02/14 00:59:28) Reply
    Here is an exchange I hope she don't mind me sharing.
    I'm sure she will let me know if she does.

    She is the Cat's Mother.

    Well it's fucking pissing down here. I got soaked just hiding my beer bottles in the shed. You don't want to know.
    Fuck. Really. I drank that much? Jesus.......

    I have about four or five bags of rubbish to go out now - mostly cardboard boxes ripped up that had studio eqpt. I keep the boxes for speakers and stuff, coz you need them if you sell them or transport them. You don't want your speaker cones getting ripped - easily done.

    I am quite liking this tea without milk and honey.

    I have a couple more big cardboard boxes to rip up. I can feel my chest muscles working as I rip them. So out of shape.
    There are lots of articles in the newspapers today about how inactive british people have become. No shit! They say some people will be using almost as little energy as if they had stayed in bed all day. Really? Well what about if you DID stay in bed all fucking day? How much energy would you use then? Didn't fucking think of that did they?

    No wonder. No jobs, no life, not even a decent war like in ye olde days. We are the human equivalent of human battery hens - just slaves to be bred for the use of our muscle power to pick the potatoes for the rich.

    I listened to a couple of old ZZ Top albums today. Check out this cover - http://dudesdie.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/zz-top-tres-hombres-mexican-feast3-copy1.jpg

    Right there in a nut you have it. Good food, good beer, good music, good friends, good times.

    But you see the rich only have a versimilitude of it all.


    Jean Baudrillard - Simulacra and Simulations - I. The Precession of Simulacra
    Translated by Sheila Faria Glaser
    Show quoted text

    If once we were able to view the Borges fable in which the cartographers of the Empire draw up a map so detailed that it ends up covering the territory exactly (the decline of the Empire witnesses the fraying of this map, little by little, and its fall into ruins, though some shreds are still discernible in the deserts - the metaphysical beauty of this ruined abstraction testifying to a pride equal to the Empire and rotting like a carcass, returning to the substance of the soil, a bit as the double ends by being confused with the real through aging) - as the most beautiful allegory of simulation, this fable has now come full circle for us, and possesses nothing but the discrete charm of second-order simulacra.*1 Today abstraction is no longer that of the map, the double, the mirror, or the concept. Simulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being, or a substance. It is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal. The territory no longer precedes the map, nor does it survive it. It is nevertheless the map that precedes the territory - precession of simulacra - that engenders the territory, and if one must return to the fable, today it is the territory whose shreds slowly rot across the extent of the map. It is the real, and not the map, whose vestiges persist here and there in the deserts that are no longer those of the Empire, but ours. The desert of the real itself. In fact, even inverted, Borges's fable is unusable. Only the allegory of the Empire, perhaps, remains. Because it is with this same imperialism that present-day simulators attempt to make the real, all of the real, coincide with their models of simulation. But it is no longer a question of either maps or territories. Something has disappeared: the sovereign difference, between one and the other, that constituted the charm of abstraction. Because it is difference that constitutes the poetry of the map and the charm of the territory, the magic of the concept and the charm of the real. This imaginary of representation, which simultaneously culminates in and is engulfed by the cartographers mad project of the ideal coextensivity of map and territory, disappears in the simulation whose operation is nuclear and genetic, no longer at all specular or discursive. It is all of metaphysics that is lost. No more mirror of being and appearances, of the real and its concept. No more imaginary coextensivity: it is genetic miniaturization that is the dimension of simulation. The real is produced from miniaturized cells, matrices, and memory banks, models of control - and it can be reproduced an indefinite number of times from these. It no longer needs to be rational, because it no longer measures itself against either an ideal or negative instance. It is no longer anything but operational. In fact, it is no longer really the real, because no imaginary envelops it anymore. It is a hyperreal, produced from a radiating synthesis of combinatory models in a hyperspace without atmosphere.

    Wonder what our friend Korbyzki has to say about maps and territories?

    "The map is not the territory"

    The expression "the map is not the territory" first appeared in print in a paper that Alfred Korzybski gave at a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science in New Orleans, Louisiana in 1931:[1] In Science and Sanity, Korzybski acknowledges his debt to mathematician Eric Temple Bell, whose epigram "the map is not the thing mapped" was published in Numerology.[2]

    A) A map may have a structure similar or dissimilar to the structure of the territory...
    B) A map is not the territory.

    Korzybski's dictum "the map is not the territory" is also cited as an underlying principle used in neuro-linguistic programming, where it is used to signify that individual people in fact do not in general have access to absolute knowledge of reality, but in fact only have access to a set of beliefs they have built up over time, about reality. So it is considered important to be aware that people's beliefs about reality and their awareness of things (the "map") are not reality itself or everything they could be aware of ("the territory"). The originators of NLP have been explicit that they owe this insight to general semantics.

    The Belgian surrealist artist René Magritte illustrated the concept of "perception always intercedes between reality and ourselves"[3] in a number of paintings including a famous work entitled The Treachery of Images, which consists of a drawing of a pipe with the caption, Ceci n'est pas une pipe ("This is not a pipe"). In The Medium is the Massage, Marshall McLuhan rehashed the argument— that all media are "extensions" of our human senses, bodies and minds.

    This concept occurs in the discussion of exoteric and esoteric religions. Exoteric concepts are concepts which can be fully conveyed using descriptors and language constructs, such as mathematics. Esoteric concepts are concepts which cannot be fully conveyed except by direct experience. For example, a person who has never tasted an apple will never fully understand through language what the taste of an apple is. Only through direct experience (eating an apple) can that experience be fully understood.


    So there we have it.

    The rich have the map. But they do not have the territory. There again, we have neither the map nor the territory so no need to feel smug about much.

    A person who has never tasted a Tex Mex (see the ZZ Top cover above) with friends, good beer, good music, will never understand fully even through language what the taste of all that REALLY means. The rich. They are just such fucking under achievers. And to think they look down on the poor. Fucking idiots. We may have had our lives and futures taken and stolen but at least we realise it. They don't even know what the fuck they are missing. It's hard to be bitter or feel as if you are missing out on something when you come to that deep philosophical conclusion.

    Then again. I may not have the food, the friends, the music. But for a tenner I can go and get soaking fucking wet and buy some beer. Have a migraine for three days and feel thoroughly fucking miserable for longer than any small relief provided. It's insanity really. But faced with such an abundance of insanity from all sides, it doesn't seem like such a bad choice. At least it is understandable.

    I'll find my way somehow. Don't know yet. It won't be by getting drunk or by posting shit on internet forums. By working for nothing and giving it away for free - appreciated or not. It won't be by becoming successful in todays music business or becoming rich at the expense of someone else. But I'm not against getting rich. In fact, the more i think about it the more it seems the way to go. I mean, wtf else is there. At least I might be able to enjoy something, but there lies the rub, the paradox, how can anyone be truly happy in todays world of suffering and misery on such a large scale? It just doesn't seem right or the time to be getting off your fucking nut and dancing around like a fool as if this is all just one big fucking party.

    Anyway, I have some cardboard boxes that need to be seen to............


    Not as riveting as you know... that kind of stuff...

    Jesus. All i can say is: I hope to fuck there is security in obscurity.

    eh eh

Re: Thailand celebrates its Groundhog Day (02/02/14 15:06:02) Reply
    Nice live'slice of yours you've written up there!

    Here is another one especially forya.

    When the Thai authorities selected today for the ''Big Event'', one wonders if they were aware that Feb 2 is better known in the US as Groundhog Day, when what is basically a giant rodent emerges from its burrow and predicts the weather for the next few months. Following the success of the 1993 film by the same name, in which a day keeps repeating itself, the expression ''Groundhog Day'' has come to be understood as ''an unpleasant situation that continually repeats, or seems to''. As that seems to just about sum up the current state of play in Thailand, the election could not be held on a more appropriate day.

    Mind you, even the groundhog would be hard pressed to forecast what's in store for the Land of Smiles. It might be an idea to keep an eye on any erratic behaviour by Bangkok's overweight rodents today for possible clues as to what we can look forward to. At a guess, we could be in for a lot more whistling.

    Phil and Willie

    Groundhog Day is celebrated in a small Pennsylvania town with the magnificent name of Punxsutawney. The groundhog which puts in appearance every year is known as ''Punxsutawney Phil'', which is a kind of cool name for a rodent. It sounds a bit like a gunslinger from a John Wayne western. Mind you, the name does lose a certain appeal when translated from its Native American origins as ''town of mosquitoes''.

    For trivia buffs, the film Groundhog Day was not actually shot in Punxsutawney, but Woodstock, Illinois. Because of the film's success, Woodstock now holds its own Groundhog Day, featuring another celebrity rodent called ''Woodstock Willie''.

    Dismal life

    By American standards, Punxsutawney is not a particularly unusual name. In the US there are all sorts of peculiar town names, and yes, there's even a place called Peculiar in Missouri. There are also admittedly plenty of normal names, such as Normal in Illinois. Some places sound too good to be true, like the Kentucky village of Lovely.

    There are places which seem to go out of their way to confuse, such as a small town in Colorado called No Name and the town of Nowhere in Arizona, not to be confused with a nearby settlement called Nothing. Just imagine if you were stopped by traffic cops and told them that's where you came from. One suspects it wouldn't be long before the handcuffs came out.

    Some names are even less appealing, like Arsenic Tubs in New Mexico and a Texas settlement called Toadsuck, a good name for a punk band, one would think. Then, imagine telling people you came from Drain in Oregon. And it's hard not to sympathise with the residents of Dismal in Tennessee.

    But my favourite American nameplace remains the town of Boring in Oregon. How about that for a conversation opener?

    Snoozing in Snoring

    I'd love to come from a place with a name like Punxsutawney. My home town, Reading, doesn't quite have that exotic ring to it. Even so, people still pronounce it wrong. One of the first things a visitor to Thailand is asked is what town they are from and my response is usually met by totally blank looks, so I usually have to add ''west of London'', which admittedly is a bit on the vague side. It would be nice if I came from somewhere which sounded a trifle more intriguing, like Frisby on the Wreake in Leicestershire, or the magnificent Nempnett Thrubwell in Somerset. And there's always Booby Dingle in Herefordshire.

    Some of my fondest names come from Norfolk, particularly the villages of Great Snoring and Little Snoring. Thai officials transferred to inactive posts would find themselves quite at home in such places. Close to the ''Snoring'' villages there is another place called Seething, which prompted the local newspaper one day to come up with the splendid headline ''Little Snoring Man Marries Seething Woman.''

    Bottom line

    As in the US, the UK has its fair share of quaint village names and there are more than a few that prompt childish giggles, led by all the ''Bottoms''. In Yorkshire we have Slack Bottom, not to be confused with the nearby villages of Slap Bottom and Margaret's Bottom. Then there is the Dorset village of Scratchy Bottom. One name to catch the imagination is Bachelor's Bump in East Sussex and the wonderfully named Great Bulging, near Littlehampton, possibly related to Willey, a hamlet just north of London. And we must not forget the splendid Spankers Lane in Derbyshire.

    All this almost inevitably brings us to the infamous Piddles.


    We have the delightful River Piddle in Dorset to thank for spawning a series of village names such as Tolpiddle, Affpiddle and Piddletown.

    Well, that was until 1838 when the good ladies of these places, tired of the juvenile jokes about their villages, forced a name change from Piddle to Puddle. So were born Tolpuddle, Affpuddle and Puddletown.

    The name change was a pity really. Our history lessons at school would have been much more entertaining if the teacher had to grapple with the important role of the ''Tolpiddle Martyrs'', pioneers of the trade union movement.

    But all is not lost.

    I am pleased to report the River Piddle kept its name.


    Sorry about the silly names, but they seem to make more sense than politics at the moment.


    For the politics facet of life in here, it's there :

faf that sounds horrible, it is best you nipped it in the bud. (07/02/14 02:21:27) Reply
    don't od now bud.

    be it on this or that.

    then again.

    you could always say what you mean.

    it could be a whole new stage.

    fuck knows there ain't much else happening.

    I mean. give it straight fellas.

    I can take it from any of you.

    Beta I may be

    But alpha you ain't.

    Then again +fravia wasn't wrong when he said that (( was the most dangerous person.

    but maybe you thought he was joking.

    five people took notice.

    2 people understood.

    Jesus man. Faf. Just spit it the fuck out. Don't be a 'punk'.

    I know I am a fucking retard, but.

    It's not like I am going to hit you.
    As if I would hit you.

    But then again.

    You are no GS, and I mean that in more ways than one.

    You could have had heaven on your doorstep, but you this and thatted like a little bitch. tha's a right. a little fem doggie.

    well. fuck.

    why don't you just say fuck you to my face.



    wanna drink?

    you paying.

    one way or another.

    say what yo like about ebee jeebees.

    at least no one get sensored cenior.

    eh eh.


Re: emulation or stimulation, for us, that is the real question (09/02/14 07:50:59) Reply
    I'm not as much a different person now as the one you first met at a pharmacy in Brussels.

    True love, as usual.

    - I wish you could take time to think of all my past answers -by yourself.
    - It will take sometimes to answer you properly because you've sent me in deep thinking; and no, i'm not on the nietzschean dichotomy side of reasoning as i'm more incline to lean on the simpliest rousseauist side of life; you can call me a fool for that, I don't give it, even a tiny, fuck.

a musical accompaniment for my musing on your dessicanting rant (09/02/14 08:07:55) Reply

    Be well

snoozing is snoring (07/02/14 02:31:02) Reply
    but some people don't say what they mean.

    fuck it is all coming out now.

    talk about nothing to lose.

    are you sure about this?

    how far can you go?

    I think i can go further.

    What do you think.


    What was once a nice place for innocents to be slaughtered has just turned into a 'place for innocents to be slaughtered.'

    Look at me pissing on e's carpet.

    What a shit guest I am.

    e, what do you think? will I ever be invited again?

    Was I unreasonable?

    Are you on faf's side?


    eh eh.

Wolves are territorial (09/02/14 19:18:09) Reply
    And there might be something to learn


The map may not be the territory (12/02/14 18:45:02) Reply
    Anyway, here are the soaked remains of a former colonial power.


    Climate change? Depends on who you ask.

come again

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