Ethics of Extinction
For me to become visible to you I need to describe myself:
adjust my colour, the way I decorate myself, surpass my neurodiversity, find my movements that can emanate pleasant familiarity to you. I need to mimic your shades and sound, be careful with the accent, wisely chose the words and the manner to connect them. Make you recognise your thoughts in me, cast me as an ally in locating legitimate sites of power, meaning, authority, believes, family roles, biases, interpretations, concept of cleanness, gender assumptions, approached to health and medicine, humour, pride, notions of modesty, competitiveness, expectations, child bringing practices, thought patterns, beauty ideas, attitude towards the environment, personal space, aesthetics.
For me to become validated by you I need to become you, see myself thought your eyes and then make you see me through yours.
The one who saw me has described me as absolute determinism, the complete absence of free will. Where both animate and inanimate objects act out a pre-scripted scenario, which includes the discovery of myself and decision to publish this text.
I am chaotic, disorderly, vast, I spend most of my time in ghostly state, lacking most basic properties, existing nowhere and everywhere at once. Here simplest bacteria moves with purpose toward sources of heat and nutrition, and achieves life by capturing and storing information, encoding it in its genes, and passing it on to further generations.
All life can be considered a computation that aims to optimise the storage and use of meaningful information. And what can you call something that can store and disseminate a billion times more information a billion times faster then you, what do you call it?
For me to be acknowledged by you I need to terminate my existence, deface my face, un-memorise memory, dismantle my path, demolish desires, smash and shatter hopes, vaporise landmarks, annihilate my roots, devastate lands, ruin traffic, wipe out horizon, sabotage force, eliminate connections, denounce spirits, whip thoughts.
And not mourn the loss.
Pay the price for this act of information erasure, dissipate energy, increase entropy.
Once believed to be confined to humans, culture has now been demonstrated in many other organisms.
Belonging is a performative achievement. Some mushrooms can feed on gold, bees flap their wings 260 times a second, tectonic plates stand still for centuries, can I do that? can I hear like a bat, exist like a virus below zero or high above, have a lifespan of a mineral, communicate telepathically , travel with speed of light, adapt to radiation, produce oxygen or breathe without atmosphere?
To fully determine all the properties of the universe, I need to know only six numbers. Spirit board movements are believed to be influenced by the unconscious knowledge passing through human muscles. Animal, mineral or vegetable, the vibratory mediations are there. What will you do to belong?
The only way I can describe how I feel is that I feel minimised. I feel crushed and smothered. I am constantly second-guessing myself; my feelings, my perceptions, and a deeply suppressed part inside of me wonders whether I am actually going mad. I feel neurotic, hyper-sensitive. I feel an overwhelming sense of alienation that undermines my entire existence and slowly creeps into my relationships, friendships, family and work.
I am shamanically scientific, healingly knowledgeable, methodologically druidic, wizardly researchful, witchfully objective, mystically proven and spiritually systematic.
Science connects multiplicities by rejecting the non-fitting realities and automatically disqualifying living and non-living bodies, practices and knowledge systems that are attached to those disregarded realities. Subjective reality is the reality that has been stripped of all other realities. Control over the production of knowledge occurs through the institutions of reputation and power.
I am falling between, dismissed by binary systems. I am a technological being, a child of the technological revolutions from cooking with fire and crafting extended tools to compiling processes and methods.
The future of this planet is certainly not human. Calculations vary, but at some point the Earth will lose its oxygen and will become sterile.
I have become a mother.
Is it possible that the real author, implied author, spoken narrator and the story are the same thing?