As a primate, confused, yet amused––I could protest, protest, or I could protect. I could take the initiative, realize that no one, no one, has read my brain. The computer that it thinks it has (as consumer, potential ally or adversary), operated by Google-type minions, is only half there, because it has no chemistry.
Chemistry is the neurosynaptic ability to adapt to expectations and move in a direction that is no longer clear. I have found myself following hypnotic pathways, sleepwalking, more instinct than alive. In this way I am human. Intuition wins in the long run because... well, it was all explained in the Matrix, in the heavy-handed blockbuster way.
Today, for example. I did a close reading of Arisugawa Park, with Nils. I identified those minute places where shifts could be made, to make the story more real in my own head. To convince myself it was worth telling, retelling. To convince others. To.... [insert cheesy Eric Clapton song title here]. At the end of the session Nils says... this is really a lot like brain surgery.
Then I came head to head with a major corporation's conception of what my reality should look like. No simple park, Ayala Triangle Park (which, as ubiquitous signs point out, has the express legal right to develop Makati's only relaxing public green space that I know of for perpetuity) is now to look a little something like:
Chemistry is the neurosynaptic ability to adapt to expectations and move in a direction that is no longer clear. I have found myself following hypnotic pathways, sleepwalking, more instinct than alive. In this way I am human. Intuition wins in the long run because... well, it was all explained in the Matrix, in the heavy-handed blockbuster way.
Today, for example. I did a close reading of Arisugawa Park, with Nils. I identified those minute places where shifts could be made, to make the story more real in my own head. To convince myself it was worth telling, retelling. To convince others. To.... [insert cheesy Eric Clapton song title here]. At the end of the session Nils says... this is really a lot like brain surgery.
Then I came head to head with a major corporation's conception of what my reality should look like. No simple park, Ayala Triangle Park (which, as ubiquitous signs point out, has the express legal right to develop Makati's only relaxing public green space that I know of for perpetuity) is now to look a little something like:
Then I came across another's vision, less than 10 minutes walk away from the heart of hyper-developing Makati (near the river, natch) telling me that reality could be different, deep-rooted. Fulfilling in other ways.
I canvassed random locals and found out that fires were being started by ninja developers across the Philippines, not only in Indonesia (to expedite global warming & further palm plantation owners' not so murky aims to produce more for the masses who need, buildings growing up, no decline in sight. Previously untapped resources....)
I found myself walking through high rise development after high rise development and walled off future developments, no parks set aside that I could see, smelling the already acrid stench of shit that festers in clogged sewers (literally). An even stronger whiff of CORRUPTION. Reading Mark Twain's anti-imperialist writings at the turn of the century, at the time when it came to educated Americans' attention that the US aim was not Filipino independence from Span.
Realizing that we are doubling, tripling the population capacity here in the space of a couple short years. We truly are fucked.
I found myself walking through high rise development after high rise development and walled off future developments, no parks set aside that I could see, smelling the already acrid stench of shit that festers in clogged sewers (literally). An even stronger whiff of CORRUPTION. Reading Mark Twain's anti-imperialist writings at the turn of the century, at the time when it came to educated Americans' attention that the US aim was not Filipino independence from Span.
Realizing that we are doubling, tripling the population capacity here in the space of a couple short years. We truly are fucked.
Unless... Fabric. To be successful as a worldwide safeguard of little-guy sustainability, it needs to be in every phone, as an app––may need test the faith of green investors. Is Bill Gates really in favor of sustainability, Bill Clinton? Al Gore? The Koch Bros., Don Trump, Rockstar Adelson? Or are they living in a fantasy world which only 200 million average present-day Americans (average consumption habits calculated) can sustainably inhabit.
And yet I have hope. Eternal optimist, I see positive links. Roots that learn to follow the lines in the pavement, to anchor and stay alive, for as long as it takes. I was admiring this tree's survival strategy when a local guy informed me that the tree's roots were twined with the next's, under the sidewalk, creating a super-strong life anchor that allowed further tendriled progress.
SEO alert: EnduranceWriter, aka Damon Shulenberger, the Bandito from a world not his own. Gambatte!
* At which point I regaled Nils with the only joke I remember, the one about the writer and the brain surgeon. Interweb sleuths can suss it out it in an EW post from some months ago.
* At which point I regaled Nils with the only joke I remember, the one about the writer and the brain surgeon. Interweb sleuths can suss it out it in an EW post from some months ago.
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