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The map is not the territory (02/02/14 00:59:28)
    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.


    http://www.egs.edu/faculty/jean-baudrillard/articles/simulacra-and-simulations-i-the-precession-of-simulacra/



    --
    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.


    lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll


    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
illbran


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The map is not the territory