I have the feeling that this Blog is running out of life. That it is in its final moments, for various reasons.

Today I wanted to think about the relationship between the ideas of pushing forward-acceptance-adaptation and replacement. Yesterday I watched InRealLife, which I don't believe it's a superb documentary. I also don't think it is a very insightful documentary, but it has nevertheless, a bunch of thought-provoking moments that are worth a write, one of them being the idea of replacement.

There is a section where one of the speakers talks about the interactions that the internet mediates. He goes on to ask; what are these mediations replacing?

The reason I thought this was genius is because, he's not arguing that the young generation will or won't adapt, but the fact that they quite inevitably do, and that this adaptation conforms a transformation in itself. The question to follow; what kind of transformation? and are we willing to accept it?

This is beautiful since it opens up alternative scenarios, since the mind can sometimes find itself in a trap, lucidity comes when least expected. Feelings are a good parameter but no one listens to them(?)

In this mini-post my conclusion would be a call for action. For us to evaluate alternative scenarios when we face discomfort or disagreement. How would they be? How could I put them in place? What are the implications? These mini-assessments will open up your imagination, and hopefully (Microsoft)windows of possibility.

Just on time for a new day. A new post. Sometimes my Mac makes me feel at home. Wide- Screen peacefulness, otherworldly...

I know, silly.


This post is about how feelings get mixed up, messed up. It's not an easy one, not only in terms of realisation, and confrontation, but of acknowledgement, and perhaps calibration. By this I mean the anxiety-sex-work-hunger-guilt relationship. I think these, are though ones, and easy to remix (Rihanna).

Money is also a Vector, and also a way of looking at the world. A World to be appropriated. But Today I wanted to talk to what is closest to you, that of your bodily frame. I can no longer resort to the Kantian notion of mind-body separation, but different minds perform differently onto different bodies, according to their environment, and to their not-so-worldly aspirations; maybe that is what we can call imagination, or the idealised World; a world of Perfect Objects.

 I have the feeling that all these projections, or aspirations; those which have been projected onto us, and those to which we have gravitated ourselves, can generate situations of discomfort that morph into different modes of anxiety; like food(anxiety), sex(anxiety), work(anxiety), etc. Not a pleasant list. But by this I am not implying that food is no good, or sex or work; but what is not good-an by this I mean, I doesn't feel right- is that this exploration for the satisfaction of Anxiety cannot be found in these outsourcing movements or tactics. Moreover these will only add to your pile of Guilt-Anxiety. It is important that you gravitated towards what you feel is Good for you, and obviously, by measure, for others. This is a hefty claim, and one that I wouldn't like to simplify, but I would like to keep this focused to the anxiety-sex-work-hunger-guilt complex. I am by no means trying to create a well rounded narrative, but to think trough writing.

From this perspective of the self, it is vital you think off all that provides you with peace, or better said, calm. Reaching this point of calmness will allow you to think. And to think again in a less foggy environment.

Confusing feelings of anxiety with hunger, is a big one, since the need is not fulfilled. Instead food is consumed, gastric-ally moved, and disposed in the form of guilty, painful shit. I have been there. I know. I have recently read that having water is good for you to listen to your body, and to learn wether you are truly hungry. I am not sure if it works for me. The fact that Google is collecting all this Data from me, I don't know if it works for me still, but I am using their service for now.

Identifying these little moments of discomfort can help you better to go trough your day. Life a process, rather than goal-reaching. In all of this, it is important that we learn all that we have hoped for, and use it to our advantage, and those that we care for. I currently care mostly, for myself. But that doesn't mean that I have no empathy whatsoever, I am just not easily moved. I don't think most people have real problems. I don't , I am just almost empty of Passion, and therefore for a Love of the World and all that Pertains to me, and comes about to my domain. All my work lately, has been a sigh for help, of exasperation. But there is no Mercy for me, I have it piecemeal.

So if we think, or feel, we are in a moment; a process of exasperation, it is important to look inwards, and to produce a taxonomy of one's own guts. Therein might the truth be unravelled, or unfolded before our eyes. But don't think of this as contemplation, but as a plane for action. Believe, me. There is more to Life than This.

Seconds might smell of Hours (Synesthesia), and Google or Mac might be able to AutoCorrect Rhiana, but not Synesthesia. There might be something wrong with these Tools that we deal With, there IS work to be done. Collectively, believe me. In isolation, believe me.

On a final note I have to say that if anything, water might the closest to a whisper. Scape YouTube, and begin a transmutation that looks no further; you have become Yourself (Chet Faker) without resorting to Realism[Well Done].

This post is on the idea of delegating. On how it can go wrong, and how it can go better than wrong.

This also has to do with the idea of Isolation, (modern) Art and the idea of the Creative Loner CS5.

I believe. It is also correlated to the idea of imperialism, success and progress, as promoted by so called capitalist culture, and its ascribing media culture. Which we say it ascribes, as the privileged white boy who thinks reality is seamless and has the option to choose. But when your product is commissioned by this very system, it is difficult to talk about choice; there is no choice.

So delegating, is the act of "entrusting to another" (Merriam Webster) an action, or a material good, or an action exercised on a material good...so on a so forth. The idea of delegating, goes hand in hand with the idea of expertise, which is unique to an advanced individual, who has the capability to resolve an issue pertaining its areas of competence. This individual performs to the faith of efficiency, to the expedient. It has by all means a sense of speed, of velocity. The idea of delegating, has at its core, the belief that working in a team is losing personal control, so a final product can be produced in the quickest, neatest and most advanced way. It is a power game between resources-time-production; it responds to the logic of exchange. It is also imperialistic since it aims at expanding, and perpetuate its modes of engulfing individualities, and creating Collective Units of Production. This is not History, but cultural Realism. 

Now not only the product suffers in this process, but in this context of Productive Labour,  we need to think of how inter-personal relationships are managed, since this is a relationship of obligation. Since this context is not of sociability, there is no Choice, i.e. I don't like this guy, I will not talk to him. Instead in the context of work choice is limited, and you have to talk to your colleges.

What I am trying to say here, is that this is not a context that we are familiar with, we are not raised (I mean maybe yes, but not usually in privileged-Stinky-European-families). This context of collaboration for the production of a good, or the delivery of a service, needs to be learnt. It is a space of learning, where a specific logic applies. This means that we do not longer deal with colleagues in a context of sociability, but of Production.

Why would this have anything to do with isolation? Because delegating is the removing of the self from a certain task, and surrendering full control or custody. Romanticising loneliness, creates different spaces of resources-time-production. It is a way of gaining a sense of control, wether is actual or delusional.

But in any case, why would it go wrong? or why would it go right? This is because since the working environment is new to the young professional, he(me) might make a series of mistakes:

1.- And very common. Doesn't know to delegate, and task-overflow happens. In this case it's important to acknowledge, and to start working with the idea of a team in mind.

1.1.- Too much food on your plate. Spread; delegate.

1.2.- Too much food on your plate. Too much food, all at once. And it is easy to collapse, and baffle baffle. Make sure you take one item at a time. I do this One Thing now, I do this Two thing once I have finished with the previous task, otherwise schizophrenia follows.

2.- And very common. He knows what to delegate (he can identify), but she doesn't know how to delegate. And believe me, Forms are important in this case.

2.1.- Real common. He knows how to delegate, he has lots of food in his plate, but he has failed on the delivery of the highly roasted, crusty carrots. You know that sometimes consistency relies on swift movements, and it is real important that you care too (believe or not this is mandatory mode; I am telling you to do). 

2.2.- You need to say Hi, how can I help you? And take it all in. Then delegate: can you please do this for this student (don't hesitate). At this point it is important that you pass the relevant information to your colleagues. That you Politely, and Concisely Delegate. That you PCD well-done. this means that is one task at a time, and one request at a time, since you are part of a team. You are not ordering them to proceed, but asking them if they would be able to. 

I know it hurts, but some people need the flattery(ing) bit. You'll have to serve it....

I have been thinking of You for a long time, and if you are a woman, eating Pizza overnight, more so. Not that I have a food disorder, but I tend to think that all that is White, stinks of Privilege; yes that brand of Greek looks that do no good to your marble surface; ask Mr Clean. Who not coincidentally, is a white mtfk** who sniffs coke dust off the counters at fabric overnight (while you eat your smelly pizza). Please don't get on the tube.

All of these things worry me. Like not being able to pursue my dreams. Pizza man, has been eating pizza for like 25 years and has diabetes, but he thinks pizza-monogamy is still cool, and he cooks it.

I have no pity for them. I have no pity for anyone who is suffering around the world at this moment, since I cannot condense all these experiences in my self, and Topshop knows that, they've sewn it into the brand, albeit your bought it by knowing of being guilty of homicide.

Chantal Mouffe recently exclaimed that Archiecture is not political, and I can very strongly disagree. Not for her french accent, but for the inconsistency of her speech. I have for so no apology.

We can come to an understanding of politics as a societal system. But it is in my day to day choice, in my body, in my fashion that my sovereignty rests, for I have been deprived of a stable ground. I am therefore not grounded, I am a body of Fashion.

The queen has no empathy, like no other, and she enjoys very much masturbating under the seats of the House of Lords, might be dirty or not, although part of her jurisdiction, not of her concern. Or that's what I thought Dior to say when Drunk. Drink being the poison of choice for relief.

If you keep your fingers crossed, you get to pray, and to die peacefully, for all your dreams have come true, in that place which we call heaven. Hell is embodiment, and with it comes the clitoris. It has been designed for excitement transmutates into oblivion by experience; its inevitably pink and hardcore, barcode of Heavens.

IN any case I am not trying here to run forever along the currents of the river, for these allowances fight for the perfect ideal of existence, that deals with no contigency, and solely with the glow of the stars under naked eyes, those which I no longer posess.

I have hoped that All my blood could be collected, coupled, and disposed peacefully in our nearest Tesco, as Spanish Black Pudding, as Tesco Finest. But I am not trying to publicy the brand, but their jump to mediocrity, and how it becomes the hottest venues for the homeless on Sundays, the hookers, and the disappointed prayers. I claim for it not to be hell as long as it Sunday, it contains all that is divine, and counter-divine; creating a space of antagony, and of harmony, since all that is consumed turns into shit, and the difference remains no different fom the eyes of the beholder, those which he posses under the surveiling cameras that police, quite fakely and frankly, the streets; all has to be said.


Drugs for so are not white, but the tomate that covers the pizza, and the spice of life, or a piece of change [you might want to contact Volkswagen in all regarding plumbing cars].

You might also have wondered why THE Fuck, blogger (American) Autocorrects that which is pronounced as Volkswagen, and highlights as non-existant the word poiesis. This is the time when, AS Chantal Mouffe would say, there is NO politics, but a heartless Polity.


Fashion pertains the body, and all of its bodily functions, and can perform all that is valid and satisfies its libido for life. It has no boundary as far as it has some sort of personal autonomy fueled by biological functionalism.  All that is extraneous to the body, stands in the realm of the environment, and therefore, again, extraneous. Law exists to govern the bodies, and also the spaces and interactions that these perform, and inter-perform. But they never acknowledge all the complexities that escape their comprehension, as if Laws where shaped by Natural Law, which remains, in every aspect of the act of appropriation, a scandalous act.
You have for so renounced to your role as a form of sub-polity, and become a form of servantry. I have for so no comments. Remember that our bodies are policed and surveilled, and every movement of yours is political, in as much as it is circumscribed under a system-territory of polity.


I have tons of issues about disruptance, and relevance, and none of them fall into a neat category, as blood falls from your lips, after having hard-core sex. Believe me, it happens, and it sounds better than it goes (go to the lo0- self-check).


This is not a call for Autonomy, but for a RENEGOTIATION of the terms in which your life is atificially regulated beyond what might be called the Natural, PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
As if...something as such existed.

Someone might have told you. Evolution or Revolution. But I claim no revolutionary claims in my thoughts. I claim for the acknowledgment of the independece of the Imaginary to be able to act upon the miserable world in which we encounter our bodies to be locked. As if the perfect curves of your but, were going to be replaced by Picasso's pointy corners, which cannot cause anything but harm, or ego-harm. Buy yourself a Razor to trim your calamities, they might have been growing a bit too long.

Time will decipher the tales of your life in blowing dust, and all these grayness will not be beared by the unbelieving eyes of domination, which tend to control, to restrain, those wills of the hoping subjects. Please extend your legs beyond polity, and certainly politeness. You don't want to become another Madonna. Petrified, standing still, in front of the eyes of Men. Those Who Never Existed, and used to wank in your college Dorm, door closed.


I can't end this Tale, without saying that this is no reality, for anything becomes real as long as its been projected into the realm of the conscious. That which is unconscious find expression in the gaps of language, the w459i34[5 of the screen. No more or Less, just enough to scare.

[Little by Little You'll Get to Cleanse Yourself]

[Renewal Is To Be Alive, Forms of Subtraction, Accumulation and Preservation Are Practices of The Living Dead, of The Conservative Class]

[Make Sure You Buy Yourself A Gas Holder To Burn All That You Keep To Yourself]

[Being True To Yourself Means Cutting the Cord]