Saturday, May 22, 2021

ABOUT TIME
Authorities seize 68 big cats from Jeffrey and Lauren Lowe of "Tiger King"




Dozens of exotic cats owned by Jeffery Lowe and his wife, Lauren Lowe, of Netflix's "Tiger King" were confiscated by federal authorities Thursday. Photo courtesy of Tiger King

May 21 (UPI) -- The Justice Department announced authorities have seized dozens of protected felines from an Oklahoma animal theme park run by Jeffrey and Lauren Lowe of the Netflix documentary series Tiger King due to violations of the Endangered Species Act.

The department made the announcement in a statement Thursday, stating the seizure of 68 big cats was performed following three inspections of the Tiger King Park in Thackerville since mid-December that resulted in citations for failing to provide the animals with adequate or timely veterinary care and appropriate nutrition and shelter that protects them from the elements and is of sufficient size.

The couple were also found to be in non-compliance of court orders to maintain a veterinary care program for the animals as is required by the Animal Welfare Act.

"This important animal rescue operation of nearly 70 endangered and allegedly abused lions, tigers and a jaguar shows how effective civil forfeiture can be when utilized in conjunction with statutes like the Endangered Species Act," said Acting Assistant Attorney General Nicholas L. McQuaid of the Justice Department's Criminal Division.

According to the affidavit, prosecutors sought to seize 46 tigers, 15 tiger-lion hybrids, seven tigers and one jaguar that they believe were either "harmed or harassed" as defined as violations of the Endangered Species Act.

The Lowes became known to the public through the 2020 Netflix series and are its most recent stars to have found themselves fall into legal trouble.

In October, Bhagavan "Doc" Antle was charged with animal cruelty and wildlife trafficking in Virginia. And in April of last year, Joseph Maldonado-Passage, better known as Joe Exotic, was sentenced to 22 years in prison for attempting to hire a hit man to kill a man who criticized his exotic cat park.

"This seizure should send a clear message that the Justice Department takes alleged harm to captive-bred animals protected under the Endangered Species Act very seriously," said Acting Assistant Attorney General Jean E. Williams of the Justice Department's Environment and Natural Resources Division.

 

Socialism in the 21st century

2020, Platypus Review

6 Pages
Socialism arose, from the perspective of Marxism, from this constant self-contradiction, crisis, destruction, and demand for the reconstitution of the social value of labor. As such, socialism was an expression of capitalism, namely, an expression of the contradiction of bourgeois social relations and industrial forces of production. As the advocacy of the social value of labor, socialism was an expression of the demands of the reconstitution of the bourgeois social rights of labor, namely, its social value.

 





In White Skin, Black Fuel, Andreas Malm and the Zetkin Collective interrogate the far right's role in climate crisis. Malm and the Collective claim that fascists have always loved fossil fuels. From its racist and imperialist roots to its far-reaching implications for the future, fossil fuels sit at the center of political debate and social crisis. 

Eco-fascism and continuing use of fossil fuels derails visions of a livable future. Malm and the Collective draw on theoretical writings, anecdotes from climate activists and analysis of transnational politics to craft a must-read book to better understand how to fight fossil fascism through collective struggle.


“This bold and richly detailed study of far-right approaches to climate change is a revelation.”  – Geoff Eley, author of Nazism as Fascism  

“A highly engaging study, full of startling anecdotes and witty reflections. If you want to understand the political obstacles that will face climate action in the coming decades, this is a must-read.”  – Cara Daggett, author of The Birth of Energy  

"A beautifully written, passionate, richly researched warning about fossil fascism. With acute sensitivity, it traces the surprising connections between racist, nationalist ideology and climate denialism.” – Richard Seymour, author of Corbyn

Verso (versobooks.com)

I Want to Believe: Posadism, UFOs and Apocalypse Communism 

Kindle Edition

Advocating nuclear war, attempting communication with dolphins and taking an interest in the paranormal and UFOs, there is perhaps no greater (or stranger) cautionary tale for the Left than that of Posadism.

Named after the Argentine Trotskyist J. Posadas, the movement's journey through the fractious and sectarian world of mid-20th century revolutionary socialism was unique. Although at times significant, Posadas' movement was ultimately a failure. As it disintegrated, it increasingly grew to resemble a bizarre cult, detached from the working class it sought to liberate. The renewed interest in Posadism today - especially for its more outlandish fixations - speaks to both a cynicism towards the past and nostalgia for the earnest belief that a better world is possible.

Drawing on considerable archival research, and numerous interviews with ex- and current Posadists, I Want to Believe tells the fascinating story of this most unusual socialist movement and considers why it continues to capture the imaginations of leftists today.


I WONDER IF THE POSADISM WAS WHAT LYNDON LAROUCHE WAS A FOLLOWER OF BEFORE HE BROKE WITH TROTSKYISM TO FORM HIS OWN CULT 



Waiting for E.T.: the Cosmic Communism of J. Posadas

https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2021/01/waiting-for-e.html


https://plawiuk.blogspot.com/2020/06/trotskyites-in-space-this-book-has-it.html




ALSO SEE


Trotskyist Cults


LaRouche Takes Over Vive le Canada

Friday, May 21, 2021

WED MAY 26 SUPER BLOOD FLOWER MOON ECLIPSE



When all of these nicknames are combined, it creates a "super blood flower moon eclipse," but despite the long-winded name, it will look similar to total lunar eclipses in years past.

 

CBC CANADA VIDEO


Moon to turn red during Wednesday's total lunar eclipse

By Brian Lada
Accuweather.com
MAY 21, 2021 

The red color of the moon during a lunar eclipse comes from the sun's ray's filtering through Earth's atmosphere. File Photo by Ismael Mohamad/UPI | License Photo

May 21 (UPI) -- One of the top astronomical happenings of 2021 will unfold in the early morning sky on Wednesday as the Earth, moon and sun align perfectly to create a total lunar eclipse.

This will be the first event of its kind since 2019, when stargazers braved the cold wintry weather on the night of Jan. 20, to witness the moon turn red over North America.

There have been several lunar eclipses since the early 2019 eclipse, including four penumbral lunar eclipses in 2020, but these have been far less impressive than what is set to take place during the last week of May.

During a penumbral lunar eclipse, the moon only passes through part of the penumbra, Earth's outer, brighter shadow. It can be very difficult to spot the different between a penumbral eclipse and a normal full moon even with the help of a telescope.

RELATED European Space Agency plans network of moon satellites

This month's total lunar eclipse will be much more eye-catching as the moon passes through the umbra, Earth's inner, darker shadow.



At least part of the upcoming eclipse will be visible across the Americas, Australia, New Zealand and Asia, but the total phase can only be seen from certain locations.

From North America, the total phase of the eclipse, the time when the moon turns orange or red in color, can only be seen from the western U.S., British Columbia, Alaska and western Mexico.

RELATED NASA moon mission delays may put astronauts in path of solar storms

The balance of the continent will witness only the first partial phase of the eclipse before the moon sets in the western sky, and therefore missing out on the best part of the celestial show.



A loud alarm clock and a strong cup of coffee may be needed for some onlookers to see the eclipse, in addition to cloud-free conditions, as it will unfold hours before daybreak over the contiguous U.S.

Residents of Hawaii may spend a good portion of the night awake as it starts late on Tuesday, leading up to totality a little over an hour after midnight, local time.

Folks hoping to see the astronomical alignment will want to check the AccuWeather App before going to bed on May 25, to make sure that they don't wake up early to a cloud-covered sky.



The best weather for Wednesday's eclipse is expected across the Southwest and into the southern Rockies, although there may be enough breaks in the clouds for folks across the Pacific Northwest to see the moon turn red.

Mainly clear conditions are also in store for the Southeast, but residents will only get good views of the partial phase of the eclipse before the moon dips below the horizon.

Clouds will be a concern from Kansas City through Chicago and Toronto as a disturbance moves over the region.



The entire eclipse will last for several hours, but the total eclipse itself will only last for 14 minutes, so this brief window is the most important part for Mother Nature to cooperate.

Why will the moon turn red?

Total lunar eclipses have been given the unofficial nickname of "blood moons" in recent years due to the change in color that happens during the height of the event.

"The red color comes from sunlight filtering through Earth's atmosphere - a ring of light created by all the sunrises and sunsets happening around our planet at that time," NASA said.

"Just how red it will look is hard to predict, but dust in the atmosphere can have an effect, and keep in mind there have been a couple of prominent volcanic eruptions recently," NASA explained.

This month's eclipse will also be a supermoon, meaning that the moon will appear slightly bigger than other full moons throughout the year.

Additionally, May's full moon is often called the Flower Moon due to the abundance of flowers that are blooming ahead of summer, The Old Farmer's Almanac said.


When all of these nicknames are combined, it creates a "super blood flower moon eclipse," but despite the long-winded name, it will look similar to total lunar eclipses in years past.

The next lunar eclipse is set to unfold in a little less than six months when the moon once again passes through Earth's shadow.

It will be extremely close to being a total lunar eclipse with 97% of the moon entering Earth's dark inner shadow, but the small sliver of the moon missing the umbra means that it will be a partial lunar eclipse -- but an impressive partial eclipse at that.

The same areas of the world that have a chance to witness this month's eclipse will also be lined up to see November's eclipse with the addition of Atlantic Canada and far western Europe.
UAP ARE UFO'S

Navy pilots describe encounters with UFOs

60 MINUTES 

We have tackled many strange stories on 60 Minutes, but perhaps none like this. It's the story of the U.S. government's grudging acknowledgment of unidentified aerial phenomena— UAP—more commonly known as UFOs. After decades of public denial the Pentagon now admits there's something out there, and the U.S. Senate wants to know what it is. The intelligence committee has ordered the director of national intelligence and the secretary of defense to deliver a report on the mysterious sightings by next month.

© Credit: CBSNews ufoarticle.jpg

Bill Whitaker: So what you are telling me is that UFOs, unidentified flying objects, are real?

Lue Elizondo: Bill, I think we're beyond that already. The government has already stated for the record that they're real. I'm not telling you that. The United States government is telling you that.

Luis Elizondo spent 20 years running military intelligence operations worldwide: in Afghanistan, the Middle East and Guantanamo. He hadn't given UFOs a second thought until 2008. That's when he was asked to join something at the Pentagon called the Advanced Aerospace Threat Identification Program, or "AATIP."

© Provided by CBS News Lue Elizondo

Lue Elizondo: The mission of AATIP was quite simple. It was to collect and analyze information involving anomalous aerial vehicles, what I guess in the vernacular you call them UFOs. We call them UAPs.

Bill Whitaker: You know how this sounds? It sounds nutty, wacky.

Lue Elizondo: Look, Bill, I'm not, I'm not telling you that, that it doesn't sound wacky. What I'm telling you, it's real. The question is, what is it? What are its intentions? What are its capabilities?

Buried away in the Pentagon, AATIP was part of a $22 million program sponsored by then-Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid to investigate UFOs. When Elizondo took over in 2010 he focused on the national security implications of unidentified aerial phenomena documented by U.S. service members.

Lue Elizondo: Imagine a technology that can do 6-to-700 g-forces, that can fly at 13,000 miles an hour, that can evade radar and that can fly through air and water and possibly space. And oh, by the way, has no obvious signs of propulsion, no wings, no control surfaces and yet still can defy the natural effects of Earth's gravity. That's precisely what we're seeing.

Elizondo tells us AATIP was a loose-knit mix of scientists, electro-optical engineers, avionics and intelligence experts, often working part time. They combed through data and records, and analyzed videos like this.



A Navy aircrew struggles to lock onto a fast-moving object off the U.S. Atlantic Coast in 2015.

Recently released images may not convince ufo skeptics, but the pentagon admits it doesn't know what in the world this is or this or this.

Bill Whitaker: So what do you say to the skeptics? It's refracted light. Weather balloons. A rocket being launched. Venus.

Lue Elizondo: In some cases there are simple explanations for what people are witnessing. But there are some that, that are not. We're not just simply jumping to a conclusion that's saying, "Oh, that's a UAP out there." We're going through our due diligence. Is it some sort of new type of cruise missile technology that China has developed? Is it some sort of high-altitude balloon that's conducting reconnaissance? Ultimately when you have exhausted all those what ifs and you're still left with the fact that this is in our airspace and it's real, that's when it becomes compelling, and that's when it becomes problematic.

Former Navy pilot Lieutenant Ryan Graves calls whatever is out there a security risk. He told us his F/A-18F squadron began seeing UAPs hovering over restricted airspace southeast of Virginia Beach in 2014 when they updated their jet's radar, making it possible to zero in with infrared targeting cameras.
© Provided by CBS News Ryan Graves

Bill Whitaker: So you're seeing it both with the radar and with the infrared. And that tells you that there is something out there?

Ryan Graves: Pretty hard to spoof that.

These photographs were taken in 2019 in the same area. The Pentagon confirms these are images of objects it can't identify. Lieutenant Graves told us pilots training off the Atlantic Coast see things like that all the time.

Ryan Graves: Every day. Every day for at least a couple years.

Bill Whitaker: Wait a minute, every day for a couple of years?

Ryan Graves: Uh-huh.

Ryan Graves: I don't see an exhaust plume.
© Provided by CBS News

Including this one – off the coast of Jacksonville, Florida in 2015, captured on a targeting camera by members of Graves' squadron.

Soundbites from pilots: Look at that thing, it's rotating! My gosh! They're all going against the wind, the wind's 120 knots to the west. Look at that thing dude!

Bill Whitaker: You can sorta hear the surprise in their voices.

Ryan Graves: You certainly can. They seem to have broke character a bit and were just kind of amazed at what they were seeing.

Bill Whitaker: What do you think when you see something like this?

Ryan Graves: This is a difficult one to explain. You have rotation, you have high altitudes. You have propulsion, right? I don't know. I don't know what it is, frankly.

He told us pilots speculate they are one of three things: secret U.S. technology, an adversary's spy vehicle, or something otherworldly.

Ryan Graves: I would say, you know, the highest probability is it's a threat observation program.

Bill Whitaker: Could it be Russian or Chinese technology?

Ryan Graves: I don't see why not.

Bill Whitaker: Are you alarmed?

Ryan Graves: I am worried, frankly. You know, if these were tactical jets from another country that were hangin' out up there, it would be a massive issue. But because it looks slightly different, we're not willing to actually look at the problem in the face. We're happy to just ignore the fact that these are out there, watching us every day.

The government has ignored it - at least publicly - since closing its project "Blue Book" investigation in 1969. But that began to change after an incident off Southern California in 2004, which was documented by radar, by camera, and four naval aviators. We spoke to two of them: David Fravor, a graduate of the Top Gun naval flight school and commander of the F/A-18F squadron on the USS Nimitz; and flying at his wing, Lieutenant Alex Dietrich, who has never spoken publicly about the encounter.
© Provided by CBS News Alex Dietrich and Dave Fravor

Alex Dietrich: I never wanted to be on national TV, no offense.

Bill Whitaker: So why are you doing this?

Alex Dietrich: Because I was in a government aircraft, because I was on the clock. And so I feel a responsibility to s-- to share what I can. And it is unclassified.

It was November 2004 and the USS Nimitz carrier strike group was training about 100 miles southwest of San Diego. For a week, the advanced new radar on a nearby ship, the USS Princeton, had detected what operators called "multiple anomalous aerial vehicles" over the horizon, descending 80,000 feet in less than a second. On November 14, Fravor and Dietrich, each with a weapons systems officer in the backseat, were diverted to investigate. They found an area of roiling whitewater the size of a 737 in an otherwise calm, blue sea.

Dave Fravor: So as we're looking at this, her back-seater says, "Hey, Skipper, do you..." And about that got out, I said, "Dude, do you, do you see that thing down there?" And we saw this little white Tic Tac-looking object. And it's just kind of moving above the whitewater area.

As Deitrich circled above - Fravor went in for a closer look.

Bill Whitaker: So you're sort of spiraling down?

Dave Fravor: Yep. The Tic Tac's still pointing north-south, it goes, click, and just turns abruptly. And starts mirroring me. So as I'm coming down, it starts coming up.

Bill Whitaker: So it's mimicking your moves?

Dave Fravor: Yeah, it was aware we were there.

He said it was about the size of his F/A-18F, with no markings, no wings, no exhaust plumes.

Dave Fravor: I want to see how close I can get. So I go like this. And it's climbing still. And when it gets right in front of me, it just disappears.

Bill Whitaker: Disappears?

Dave Fravor: Disappears. Like, gone.

It had sped off.



Bill Whitaker: What are you thinking?

Alex Dietrich: So your mind tries to make sense of it. I'm gonna categorize this as maybe a helicopter or maybe a drone. And when it disappeared. I mean it was just…

Bill Whitaker: Did your back-seaters see this too?

Alex Dietrich: Yeah.

Dave Fravor: Oh yeah. There was four of us in the airplanes literally watching this thing for roughly about five minutes.

Seconds later, the Princeton reacquired the target. 60 miles away. Another crew managed to briefly lock onto it with a targeting camera before it zipped off again.

Alex Dietrich: You know, I think that over beers, we've sort of said, "Hey man, if I saw this solo, I don't know that I would have come back and said anything," because it sounds so crazy when I say it.

Bill Whitaker: You understand that reaction?

Dave Fravor: I do. I've had some people tell me, you know, "When you say that, you can sound crazy." I'll be hon-- I'm not a UFO guy.

Bill Whitaker: But from what I hear you guys saying, there's something?

Alex Dietrich: Yes.

Dave Fravor: Oh there's, there's definitely something that… I don't know who's building it, who's got the technology, who's got the brains. But there's, there's something out there that was better than our airplane.

The aircrew filed reports. Then like the mysterious flying object, the Nimitz encounter disappeared. Nothing was said or done officially for five years, until Lue Elizondo came across the story and investigated.

Lue Elizondo: We spend millions of dollars in training these pilots. And they are seeing something that they can't explain. Furthermore, that informations being backed up on electro optical data, like gun camera footage. And by radar data. Now, to me, that's compelling.

© Provided by CBS News Chris Mellon

Inside the Pentagon his findings were met with skepticism. AATIP's funding was eliminated in 2012, but Elizondo says he and a handful of others kept the mission alive until finally, frustrated, he quit the Pentagon in 2017, but not before getting these three videos declassified and then things took a stranger turn.

Chris Mellon: I tried to help my colleague, Lue Elizondo, elevate the issue in the department and actually get it to the Secretary of Defense.

Christopher Mellon served as deputy assistant secretary of defense for intelligence for Presidents Clinton and George W. Bush and had access to top secret government programs.

Chris Mellon: So it's not us, that's one thing we know.

Bill Whitaker: We know that?

Chris Mellon: I can say that with a very high degree of confidence in part because of the positions I held in the department, and I know the process.

Mellon says he grew concerned nothing was being done about UAPs, so he decided to do something. In 2017, as a private citizen, he surreptitiously acquired the three Navy videos Elizondo had declassified and leaked them to the New York Times.

Chris Mellon: It's bizarre and unfortunate that someone like myself has to do something like that to get a national security issue like this on the agenda.

He joined forces with now civilian Lue Elizondo and they started to tell their story to anybody who would listen: to newspapers, the History Channel, to members of Congress.

Chris Mellon: We knew and understood that you had to go to the public, get the public interested to get Congress interested, to then circle back to the Defense Department and get them to start taking a look at it.

And now it is. This past August the Pentagon resurrected AATIP, it's now called the UAP task force; service members now are encouraged to report strange encounters; and the Senate wants answers.

Marco Rubio: Anything that enters an airspace that's not supposed to be there is a threat.

After receiving classified briefings on UAPs, Senator Marco Rubio called for a detailed analysis. This past December, while he was still head of the intelligence committee, he asked the director of national intelligence and the Pentagon to present Congress an unclassified report by next month.

Bill Whitaker: This is a bizarre issue. The Pentagon and other branches of the military have a long history of sort of dismissing this. What makes you think that this time's gonna be different?

Marco Rubio: We're gonna find out when we get that report. You know, there's a stigma on Capitol Hill. I mean, some of my colleagues are very interested in this topic and some kinda, you know, giggle when you bring it up. But I don't think we can allow the stigma to keep us from having an answer to a very fundamental question.

Bill Whitaker: What do you want us to do about this?

Marco Rubio: I want us to take it seriously and have a process to take it seriously. I want us to have a process to analyze the data every time it comes in. That there be a place where this is cataloged and constantly analyzed, until we get some answers. Maybe it has a very simple answer. Maybe it doesn't.

Produced by Graham Messick. Associate producer, Jack Weingart. Broadcast associate, Emilio Almonte. Edited by Craig Crawford.






 The Institute of the Cosmos is an ongoing collective research project founded in 2019 and commissioned by the 2nd Riga International Biennial of Contemporary Art, RIBOCA 2. Informed by the historical ideas of Russian Cosmism, the Institute is a space for a creative investigation of the materiality of the cosmos and its strange universalism, from the perspectives of philosophy, anthropology, history of science, and art.


Through a combination of art projects, films, texts, and discursive events, the Institute reflects on the current understanding of our biological and social conditions, and maps vectors of our future development inspired by the history of cosmist thinking and the speculative practices that sustain it. The Institute seeks to unlock the hidden potential of radical imaginaries across multiple fields and histories of knowledge.

We have many urgent questions: How can our understanding of time and space be expanded? How can our life-span be extended? What are the horizons of organic and inorganic life? How to control time? How to understand the unity of all that exists? How does our post-secular society challenge contemporary science, and vice versa? What kind of sociality will a cosmist future bring? How can life on Earth and beyond be elaborated? What could extra-terrestrial art and literature be? Are plants conscious and should we eat them? How to live without killing any form of life?

We welcome you to think these questions through with us.

The Institute of the Cosmos is initiated by Arseny Zhilyaev and Anton Vidokle. The Cosmic Bulletin is edited by Marina Simakova. The Timeline of Russian Cosmism is compiled by Anastasia Gacheva, Marina Simakova, Arseny Zhilyaev, and Anton Vidokle. The website of the institute is designed by Alan Woo.

The Institute of the Cosmos wishes to thank Hallie Ayres, Kaye Cain-Nielsen, Colin Beckett, Steven Zultanski, Brian Kuan Wood, Mariana Silva, Anna Gorskaya, Oleksiy Radynski, Hinda Weiss, Thomas Campbell, Anastasiya Osipova, Ulvi Kasimov, and Diana Khamis for helping to realize this project

 

  • Welcome to anarchySF! | anarchySF

    https://www.anarchysf.com

    Welcome to anarchySF! This archive is an open-source repository of anarchist or anarchy-adjacent science fiction. Featured on the site are books, movies, and other media which are either anarchist in their politics or of interest to anarchists. This archive was first collected and organized by Ben Beck, who gathered and maintained it for the ...

  • Systems Seduction: The Aesthetics of Decentralisation

    Essay Competition Winner
    by Gary Zhexi Zhang
    Published on Jul 16, 2018
    DOI10.21428/2bfc3a68


    “Ecology in the widest sense turns out to be the study of the interaction and survival of ideas and programs (i.e. differences, complexes of differences) in circuits.”
    Gregory Bateson, Steps to an Ecology of Mind1


    How do we deal with unimaginable complexity? Today, the prospect of ecological crisis looms over our every move, as new technologies unfurl absentmindedly into the political realm, somehow managing to disrupt a biosphere in the process. In so many areas of art and science, our situation demands that we think in terms of heterogenous systems and porous boundaries. Today, as the artist Hito Steyerl once put it, ‘an upload comes down as a shitstorm.’2 The 1972 publication of The Limits to Growth, which warned that the world system would collapse in 100 years given ‘business as usual’, served timely, epochal notice on our vision of exponential ‘progress’. Moreover, its use of Jay Forrester’s ‘World3’ model of planetary systems dynamics prefigured of our contemporary obsession with data and simulation for understanding where we are, and where we’re headed. As Joi Ito’s manifesto suggests, the once-unpopular interdisciplinary science of cybernetics has returned as a paradigm through which to understand knotted social, technological and environmental issues. A cybernetic vision of open systems and regulatory feedback seems to offer a conceptual schema with through we might negotiate a more hopeful future, or at very least, weather the shitstorm. Meanwhile, the internet has brought information networks out of the realm of military engineering and metaphysics and into the fabric of social life itself. Unpredictable networks and ecological entanglements confront us daily, from fake news to climate change, to remind us of our lack of control — a little hubris goes a long way. The challenge is to develop new strategies, polities and intelligences that can engage in these complex systems with humility and care.

    What is lost and what is found when we answer the call to think ‘ecosystemically’? In what follows, I want to take a step back, in order to contextualize the resurgence of the ‘systems approach’ and its bearing on how we understand technology and society. In doing so, I consider this nebulous discourse as a both an ontological enquiry and increasingly, a design brief. In his Theory of Moral Sentiments, the political economist Adam Smith refers to the ‘spirit of system’ as an ‘intoxicating’ impulse which is ‘founded upon the love of humanity’, yet whose trajectory can also be ‘[inflamed] to the madness of fanaticism’. For Smith, the zealous ‘man of system’ imagines he can ‘arrange different members of a great society' like pieces on a chess board.3 The cybernetic approach, on the other hand, invites contingency and perturbation, emphasizing dynamism and resilience in a non-linear world. Nonetheless, the ‘spirit of system’ is still going strong, nowhere more evidently than in the feverish discourse around blockchain, whose evangelists suggest that a new protocols will transform society for the better. Today, decentralization is the dominant paradigm through which we think about systems. To the apparent failures of central planning and the confrontations of complexity, decentralization presents itself as a socio-technical panacea: by giving a little more agency to the parts over the whole, we could make way for emergent interactions of a truly creative kind. From asynchronous logistics to embodied intelligence, contemporary practitioners are mobilizing self-organizing behaviors to navigate, optimize, and negotiate complex ecologies. If the systems approach offers a conceptual schema for how the world works, then decentralization offers a political theory for how it ‘should’ be organized — one which is being advocated across the ideological spectrum, from libertarian Silicon Valley capitalists like Peter Thiel to commons-oriented activists like the P2P Foundation. But what does it mean to design for the part over the whole, govern for the individual over the collective, build the platform over the society?

    I call this the aesthetics of decentralization because it deals not with a particular set of facts, but something more like a diagram, a ‘spirit’, and a mode of production visible across many disciplines, throughout the last century and increasingly in the present. Here I follow the philosopher Jacques Rancière’s understanding of aesthetics as the ‘distribution of the sensible’, a sensorial training through which we learn to acknowledge the world, and correspondingly, the techniques by which the world is ‘given’ to our senses.4 The way we see, the cultures we foster, and the technologies we build consolidate an aesthetics that defines what we think the system is: and in turn, our place and identity within it. These techniques demarcate what is knowable and thinkable; what is self-evident and what is left out. The development of an aesthetics can be understood as a kind of patterning, a sensorial patina which determines what is meaningful signal, and what is lost to an ocean of noise.
    The Seduction of Systems

    The history of systems thinking is a story of desire and anxiety, as Norbert Wiener, the pioneer of cybernetics, knew well. ‘Like the red queen’, he wrote, ‘we are running as fast as we can just to stay where we are’.’5 Perhaps such anxiety is inevitable, as we can neither hope to control the system in its entirety, nor absolve ourselves of our presence and let complexity do its work. Though the cybernetic approach to systems is generally associated with the dawn of information theory in the mid-twentieth century, the impulse to understand the world through a science of organization predates the invention of bits and bytes. The late nineteenth century saw a powerful tendency towards the synthesis of social theory with a materialist philosophy of nature, galvanized by techno-scientific advances and revolutionary political fervor. Following Karl Marx’s ‘materialist conception of history’, Vladimir Lenin famously proclaimed that ‘everything is connected to everything else.’6 Meanwhile, Alexander Bogdanov, Lenin’s intellectual comrade and latterly ousted political rival, was arguably the first modern systems theorist. Between 1901 and 1922, Bogdanov, a physician, philosopher, economist, science-fiction writer and revolutionary, developed the a monumental work of ‘universal organizational science’, which he called ‘Tectology’. ‘All human activity’, he wrote in 1913,


    is […] organizing or disorganizing. This means that any human activity, whether it is technical, social, cognitive or artistic, can be considered as some material of organizational experience and be explored from the organizational point of view.7


    Tectology is seldom discussed today, but readers of Wiener’s cybernetics or Ludwig von Bertalanffy’s general systems theory should notice deep affinities with those later sciences of organization within Bogdanov’s writing. Later, Wiener would argue that ‘information is information, not matter or energy. No materialism which does not admit this can survive at the present day.’8 Though earlier monist philosophers, like Spinoza or Lucretius, had also understood nature in terms of a universal ‘substance’, Bogdanov sought a formal theory of its regulatory dynamics, ‘from the point of view of the relationship among all of its parts and the relationship between the whole and its environment, i.e. all external systems.’9 Indeed, Bogdanov understood the physical realm of the natural sciences and the ethereal stuff of communication, cognition and consciousness as part of the same living ‘currency’, foreshadowing the expansive commodification of intangible quantities such as attention and affect by our contemporary data industries.

    Bogdanov’s ideas echoed a late-nineteenth century impulse towards a totalizing system of nature, combining the natural sciences with a nascent social science and moral philosophy. The term ‘tectology’ was in fact borrowed from the German artist and naturalist, Ernst Haeckel (renowned for his richly detailed illustrations of flora and fauna), who coined it to describe the ‘science of structures in the organic individual.’ For Haeckel, the organization of biological species formed part of a ‘world riddle’, by which he understood the nature of matter and energy to be consistent with that of consciousness.10 Meanwhile, Haeckel’s contemporary in England, the biologist and polymath Herbert Spencer, developed a totalizing ‘synthetic philosophy’ undergirded by evolutionary theory and thermodynamics. Spencer conceived of society as a ‘social organism’ — an evolved, self-regulating system, even claiming morality to be ‘a species of transcendental physiology’,11 and comparing the legal contract to the exchange of substances between the internal organs.12 For an era captivated by the sciences of ecology and evolution, the biological metaphor would be an enduring one, weaving human beings into the tapestry of nature, and more darkly, evincing the existing social order as an extension of ‘natural' law.

    For Spencer, the growth of increasingly complex systems produced a ‘mutual dependency between parts’ by which different ‘organisms’ could be understood by analogy. Moving fluidly between scientific inquiry and social comment, he mobilized his theories in support of a radically libertarian agenda which was at turns utilitarian, individualist and ultimately, profoundly conservative. A fierce critic of social reform, he viewed social welfare as enslavement to the state; societies, like species, were subject to the ‘survival of the fittest’ (a phrase he coined), and thus develop most ideally unrestrained by government. Indeed, today Spencer is perhaps best remembered (along with Haeckel) as one of the founding thinkers of what became Social Darwinism, a discourse whose darker tones led to eugenics. ‘The law of organic process’, he wrote, ‘is the law of all progress’.13 Victorian capitalists like Andrew Carnegie took great comfort in Spencer’s evolutionism; the powerful understood their positions not only to be optimal for society, but to be confirmed by the natural order.14 Spencer’s immensely influential organicist ‘theories of everything’ exemplified the systematic impulse of the late nineteenth century, prefiguring the organizational sciences of the twentieth. As Norbert Wiener would later emphasize, communication and control are two sides of the same coin: the prospect of systematic knowledge through biological or statistical abstraction gave credence to grand theories of social structure. Mathematics turned to politics, biology to morality; the systematic imaginary of biological order propagated across society and culture by the passage of translation and metaphor. Thomas Malthus, for instance, whose Essay on the Principle of Population (1798) anticipated the Limits to Growth, concluded his grim demographic forecast with proposals for reproductive constraints on the poor. (His Essay, in turn, had a profound influence on Darwin’s theory of natural selection). Then, as now, such assured prescriptions on societal organization seldom engaged with the lives they most deeply affect, and more rarely still accounted for the privileged status of the prescriber.


    Ecology and the Rationalization of Nature

    As Adam Smith observed, a utopian impulse underlies the ‘spirit of system’. ('Whose utopia?’, remains the question). Furthermore, systems are beautiful: modern, biologically inclined theories of organization were not mechanistic, but unpredictable, dynamic and creative. They invoke a choreography of lively actors whose aggregate local interactions seemed to produce a universal harmony. By intimating these rhythms and cadences, systems theory promised to reveal deep structures about the world. As a boy, Wiener was himself an aspiring naturalist; he would later reflect that ‘diagrams of complicated structures and the problems of growth and organization […] executed my interest fully as much as tales of adventure and discovery’.15 The enlightenment narrative of man's transcendence over nature was replaced by something arguably more sublime, a vision of humanity intricately enmeshed within the web of life. As Karl Marx wrote, ‘what distinguishes the worst architect from the best of bees is this, that the architect raises his structure in imagination before he erects it in reality.’16 A capacity for imagination and structure invokes the two-handed nature of the systems aesthetic. One hand, held captive by wondrous complexity, and and the other, raised towards abstraction, rationalization and control. One could call the latter a technological impulse, following Heidegger’s understanding of technology as a mode of ‘revelation’.17

    The dawn of analogue electronics introduced the rational language of electrical engineering into the ecosystemic imaginary. Circuit notation enabled the spatial representation of dynamic systems through electrical schematics, lending systems theory the logical aura of mathematical equations. In the 1950s, the pioneer of systems ecology, Howard T. Odum, developed an ‘energy circuit language’ called ‘energese’. In his wide-ranging analysis of pine forests, atmospheric gas cycles, and socio-economic systems, Odum utilized an inventory of symbols borrowed directly from electronics, while also adding a host of his own, more abstract glyphs, such as a hexagon representing ‘self-regulation’, or dollar signs representing an economic transaction.18 Echoing the military origins of cybernetics, these ‘black boxes’ made ecosystemic complexes visible and operable to the minds of engineers. In turn, this diagrammatic approach would be used to form a rationalistic model of far less quantifiable systems. Odum’s textbook, Environment, Power and Society (1971) includes an extraordinary chapter entitled ‘An Energetic Basis for Religion’, in which he maps an ecosystemic model of moral activity. ‘Religion’, writes Odum, ‘consists of programs of learned human behavior shared with other people and taught in religious institutions controlled by religious leaders.’ In one diagram, the sun's energy flows into the realm of ‘good works’ and ‘soul’, which in turn is wired up to a rectangular program labelled ‘Natural Selection, Pearly Gates’. ‘Disordering Hell’s Fire’, meanwhile, is represented by an electrical base, connected to constellation of symbols labelled ‘Realm of the Devil’s Works’.

    Inherently reductive in its methodology (Odum called his method a ‘detail eliminator’), the systems approach is characterized by a tension between its expansive application to ever more complex worlds which, in turn, would inevitably overflow its capture. Odum’s analysis is curiously resonant with the writings of surrealist French philosopher Georges Bataille, for whom the surplus energy of society — the ‘accursed share’ — would find its ultimate expression in the glorious excess of opulence or war. In the allegory of the ‘Solar Anus’, Bataille imagines the earth as a planetary organism, sublime and abject, in the cyclical throes of of erotic eruption. At every moment, like entropy’s ‘disordering fire’, the ontological anxiety of chaos seeped into the sciences of control. Whether in Spencer, Odum, or Bataille, the nominally rationalistic schema was seldom more than a few steps away from theodicy. In a very real sense’, Norbert Wiener would write in The Human Use of Human Beings (1950), ‘we are shipwrecked passengers on a doomed planet.’19



    The Aesthetics of Decentralization


    Like the cybernetics of Wiener and his colleagues, Odum’s systems ecology invoked a world of lively matter, both living and inert. ‘Purposeful mechanisms’, he wrote, ‘are self-organized into a decentralized program of ecosystem control.’20 If decentralization describes the nature of a global system without a single source of control, self-organization can be understood as the interactive local dynamics by which global order is constituted. The enduring influence of this idea proliferated across disciplines, from geology to computer science, perhaps most famously in Lynn Margulis and James Lovelock’s 'Gaia hypothesis’, the controversial proposition that the earth is a self-regulating ‘organism’. With the birth of cybernetics, decentralization and self-organization became not only the principle of systems theory, but a tenet of systems design and engineering. The first, and arguably most elegant, example of this was W. Ross Ashby’s ‘homeostat’. The English psychiatrist modified and connected four Royal Air Force bomb control units to produce a machine capable of responding to environmental perturbations and returning to equilibrium. For Ashby, the homeostat’s ‘ultrastability’ was analogous to the brain’s capacity for learning, as well as to the evolutionary process of natural selection — adaptive behaviors within dynamic environments, whose implicate order was purposeful only in appearance.

    From the systems view, decentralization involved the automation of control: decentred from the behavior of individual agents, organization was an emergent property of the system as a whole. The idea that systems were, to some extent, essentially autonomous would be of powerful inspiration to artists, dreamers and technocrats alike. It evinced unpredictable, responsive and creative systems — more collaborator than instrument — producing intricate patterns of order far beyond their designers’ limited prescriptions. These patterns were to be found everywhere, from computational cellular automata to the distribution of human societies. Stewart Brand’s countercultural ‘bible’ of the late 1960s, The Whole Earth Catalog, is littered with references to chaos theory, ecological metabolisms and ‘whole systems’. For Brand, Buckminster Fuller and other leading futurists of the hippy generation, the beauty of self-organization affirmed the ‘bottom-up’ transformation of society and the self, against the destruction wrought by centralized governments and corporations. Self-organization gave them hope: the dissemination of technology and knowledge would engender forms of individual self-actualization they believed necessary for a more utopian society to take shape.

    In 1968, Jack Burnham, an artist and writer who was then a fellow of the Center for Advanced Visual Studies at MIT, published an essay entitled ‘Systems Esthetics’. ‘We are now in transition’, declared Burnham, ‘from an object-oriented culture to a systems-oriented culture.’ For Burnham, the ‘creation of stable, on-going relationships between organic and non-organic systems’ within all ‘matrixes of human activity’ was now the primary context for artistic and aesthetic investigation.21 In 1970, Burnham organized ‘Software — Information technology: its meaning for art’ at the Jewish Museum, New York. The exhibition involving leading conceptual artists of the day, such as Vito Acconci and Hans Haacke, new media art pioneers such as Sonia Sheridan and Nam June Paik, as well as Nicholas Negroponte’s Architecture Machine Group, which would later become the MIT Media Lab. Although it was, at the time, an unqualified technical and financial disaster that contributed to the dismissal of the museum’s director, ‘Software’ was a landmark experiment in which artists and technologists investigated information technology not as mere tool or entertainment, but as a process and a cultural paradigm. In Negroponte’s contribution, SEEK, a group of gerbils inhabited an architectural environment made of of modular blocks, which were manipulated by a robotic arm in response to the gerbil’s movements. As it turned out, the gerbils were not model citizens for Negroponte’s cybernetic ‘city’, choosing instead to attack each other.22 Nonetheless, SEEK exemplified the enduring influence of self-organizing, emergent principles on architects, planners and social scientists to this day. With simple rules and responsive environments, it suggested, complexity performs itself. The ‘social organism’ of the nineteenth century grew into the evolutionary algorithms, ‘soft architecture machines’ and artificial societies of the information age. As the gerbils might attest, these models often stumbled over their own ambition, more reflective of the will of the designer than of intelligent design itself.

    Meanwhile, over at RAND corporation, Paul Baran was working on the schematics for a distributed communications network which would become ARPANET, the precursor to the internet. The principles of decentralized organization reified the idea that stability and control could be built into a system through its morphological, protocological and infrastructural design. Not only were decentralized systems more resilient to perturbation, their asynchronous logistics and self-regulating feedback could efficiently automate complex processes once relegated to burdensome (and vulnerable) centralized management. Again, Bogdanov was prescient here. In his science-fiction novel Red Star (1908), the Soviet theorist imagines a decentralized, self-regulating economic organization known as the ‘Institute of Statistics’. Set in a communist society on Mars, the ‘Institute’ would


    keep track of the flow of goods into and out of the stockpiles and monitor the productivity of all enterprises and the changes in their work forces. […] The Institute then computes the difference between the existing and the desired situation for each vocational area and communicates the result to all places of employment. Equilibrium is soon established by a stream of volunteers.23


    Bogdanov’s technocratic utopia, imagined four decades before the invention of computers, bears an uncanny resemblance to the ‘smart cities’ of today, in which omniscient sensors and ubiquitous computing promise to solve all manner of socio-technical challenges. In Bogdanov’s city, through a non-coercive machinery of urban-scale regulation and control, ‘equilibrium is soon established’ by a labors of a voluntary citizenry. As the historian of science Orit Halpern points out, contemporary ubiquitous computing is ‘imagined as necessary to supplant, and displace, the role of democratic governance.’24 Far from a socialist utopia, ’futuristic’ smart cities like Songdo, South Korea are marketed to global elites as a technologically-enhanced Special Economic Zones, replete with financial deregulation, tax incentives and luxury real estate.

    Therein lies the contemporary dogma of decentralization. Since the early days of the internet, the design of decentralized information networks have developed in tandem with the libertarian ideal that, with technologies to ensure the secure and unfettered communication between individuals, governance would organize itself. Though the early dreams of crypto-anarchy were short-lived, the dramatic and egregious centralization of power on the internet by corporations and states in the past two decades has returned the question of decentralization to the fore. The emergence of blockchain’s decentralized, ‘trustless’ networks are perhaps the most concrete iteration of this fantasy to date. Viewed energetically, ‘proof-of-work’ implementations of blockchain automate the labor of institutional ‘trust’ to the cryptographic infrastructure of the network, securing by algorithmic consensus and computational work, rather than the physical, political and emotional labor involved in forming and maintaining social institutions. Similarly, smart contracts bind individuals via the insurance of executable code, rather than a social contract per se.

    Even if we are to ignore proof-of-work’s disastrous impact on the environment, the contemporary discourse around crypto-currencies largely rests on the notion that with the right technological conditions, politics and society will follow — in this case in the direction of individual emancipation from silos of institutional power. As journalists Michael Casey and Paul Vigna write in The Age of Cryptocurrency, ‘It speaks to the tantalizing prospect that we can take away power […] from the banks, governments, lawyers [...] and transfer it to the periphery, to We, the People.’25 When Odum’s proposed his systems ecology as a ‘detail eliminator’, he was abstracting from observable phenomena in order to bring the general picture into clearer focus. Blockchain’s ‘trustless’ utopia does the opposite, reducing the full range of human activity to game-theoretic dynamics of self-interested individuals. Where the nineteenth century philosophers concluded that socio-political systems behaved in accordance with evolution and competition, these ‘natural laws’ — and the social values they encode — are now the work of systems designers and engineers. Blockchain is a libertarian to its core, built for competition over co-operation, accumulation over distribution. When political organization is conceived as a genre of game design, we need to consider the values and assumptions at play, and currently, blockchain’s are powerfully skewed.

    My intention here is not to dismiss the potentials of distributed ledger technologies, which clearly represent a important milestone in the development of secure, decentralized databases. Rather, it is to reject the implication that technological decentralization in our ever more informatic world is inherently aligned with a more progressive trajectory for society as a whole. Despite the cacophony of political conjecture, the story of blockchain so far is a tale of financial speculation, in which the cash rewards reaped by bankers and venture capitalists are largely a result of the techno-utopian hype. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. The prospect of decentralizing control does not absolve us of the hard work of politics, and blockchain has so far failed to transfer power to ‘We, the people’, whatever the white papers might claim. Political economy cannot be replaced by technology alone. As Karl Marx understood over a century ago, the worth we attach to technological progress is not intrinsic: it is only as valuable as the relations amongst people that they produce. Today, technological wealth produced by society as a whole largely oils the machinery of capitalist accumulation for the few. While we have yet to witness the decentralization of control, the collective wealth produced by of the decentralization of production — that is, the ‘sharing economy’, the big data industry, and other platforms that monetize our daily social interactions — remains firmly in the service of exploitative (centralized) corporations. Whether in logistical services like Uber or social media platforms like Facebook, it is not so difficult — nor even particularly radical — to imagine decentralized, peer-to-peer services which value is produced by and for society as a whole. Nonetheless, it would require governance, by nationalization or other means: the distributed network is not identical to the commons.

    What does it mean to design decentralized systems that sit so comfortably within the regime of contemporary capitalism? If our current systems are flawed, then the technologies we build cannot be tolerant of the power structures in which we’re enmeshed — attending to business as usual, albeit at accelerated pace. ‘All is well since all grows better,’ reflected the industrialist Andrew Carnegie, happily inspired by Spencer’s evolutionist thought. Uncritically, the seductive power of the systems approach seems to reveal an intricate map that affirms the ‘nature of things’ as the way they ought to be — a conservative tendency that must be resisted. As the feminist collective Laboria Cuboniks declare in their ‘Xenofeminist’ manifesto, ‘if nature is unjust, change nature!’.26


    In ‘A Cyborg Manifesto’, the feminist technology scholar Donna Haraway describes an emancipatory figure that is ‘wary of holism, but needy of connection.’27 Even longer ago, in 1960, the computer visionary Ted Nelson conceived of Project Xanadu, a would-be alternative to the World Wide Web which privileged ‘visible connections’ between links. Nelson, who invented the concept of hypertext, understood from the outset that information technologies would only make us wiser if they helped us to comprehend the ways in which the complexities of our world are interconnected. These pioneering ideas remind us that rather than deferring our cognitive and political labour to increasingly automated systems, only by constantly traversing these connections can we produce a critical and reflexive understanding of how knowledge, power, and society are organized. Through this kind of systems approach, neither siding with parts nor wholes, but forever in a process of negotiation, we might realize a more emancipatory politics and its concomitant technological forms. The philosopher Jacques Rancière conceives of the ‘political’ as the ‘part of those that have no part’:28 those which are precluded by the distribution of the sensible. The systems approach offers conceptual insights, but begs ever more questions of how we navigate our predicament. The aesthetics of decentralization reveals a rhizomatic scene, an intuition that our routes are chaotic and ambulatory, not headlong and domineering. As Haraway wrote, over thirty years ago now, ‘single vision produces worse illusions than double vision or many headed monsters […] in our present political circumstances, we could hardly hope for more potent myths for resistance and recoupling.’29 We don’t need totalizing narratives but a proliferation of daydreams: lateral, experimental and situated within the localities of political experience. We need to imagine systems that read signals other than market signals, that answer to dreams other than Silicon Valley dreams. Contemporary transhumanists and singularitarians should take note once last time of Alexander Bogdanov’s pioneering example: the great theorist died in middle age from a botched blood transfusion, a process by which he had hoped to gain perpetual youth.


    Notes:
    [1] Gregory Bateson, Steps to an Ecology of Mind, (New York: Ballantine Books, 1972), p. 491.

    [2] Hito Steyerl, ‘Too Much World: Is the Internet Dead?’, E-flux Journal #49, November 2013. URL: https://www.e-flux.com/journal/49/60004/too-much-world-is-the-internet-dead/

    [3] Adam Smith, Theory of Moral Sentiments (Oxford: Oxford University Press, [1759] 1976), p. 185.

    [4] The word ‘data’ originates in the Latin ‘to give’, or ‘that is given’.

    [5] Norbert Wiener, I am a Mathematician, (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1964), p. 324.

    [6] Quoted in Arvid Nelson, Cold War Ecology (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2005), p. xvi.

    [7] The word “tectology” was first coined by Ernst Haeckel to describe the “science of structures in the organic individual”, though Bogdanov generalised the term. The Science of Life, 97

    [8] George Gorelik, ‘Bogdanov's Tektology: Its Nature, Development and Influence’ in Studies in Soviet Thought, Vol. 26, No. 1 (Jul., 1983), p. 40.

    [9] Norbert Wiener, The Human Use of Human Beings (London: Free Association Books, [1950] 1989), p. 132.

    [10] Gorelik, ‘Bogdanov's Tektology’, p. 40.

    [11] Ernst Haeckel, Monism as Connecting Religion and Science, trans J. Gilchrist (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1895), p. 46.

    [12] Quoted in Walter M. Simon, ’Herbert Spencer and the “Social Organism”’, in Journal of the History of Ideas, Vol. 21, No. 2 (Apr. - Jun., 1960), p. 295.

    [13] Quoted in Emile Durkheim, The Division of Labour in Society, trans. W. D. Halls (New York: Free Press, 1997), p. 98.

    [14] Herbert Spencer, ’Progress: Its Law and Cause’ in Essays: Scientific, Political and Speculative (London: Williams and Norgate, 1891), p. 9.

    [15] Stephen Shapin, ‘Man with a Plan’, The New Yorker, August 13, 2017. URL: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2007/08/13/man-with-a-plan

    [16] Norbert Wiener, Ex-Prodigy: My Childhood and Youth (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. 1953), p. 64.

    [17] Karl Marx, Capital Volume I (New York: The Modern Library, 1906), p. 198.

    [18] Martin Heidegger, The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays, trans. William Lovitt (New York: Garland Publishing Inc., 1977), p. 12.

    [19] Explored in depth in: Irina Chernyakova, ‘Systems of Valuation’, M.Arch thesis, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 2013.

    [20] Wiener, The Human Use of Human Beings, p. 40.

    [21] Howard T. Odum, Environment, Power and Society, (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007 [1971]), p. 170.

    [22] Jack Burnham, ‘Systems Esthetics’ in Artforum, September 1968., p. 31.

    [23] Noah Wardrip-Fruin and Nick Montford, The New Media Reader, (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2003), p. 253.

    [24] Alexander Bogdanov, Red Star, translated by Loren Raymond Graham and Richard Stites. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, [1908] 1984), p. 66.

    [25] Orit Halpern, Beautiful Data (Durham: Duke University Press, 2014), p. 25.

    [26] Michael Casey and Paul Vigna, The Age of Cryptocurrency (New York: Picador, 2016), p. 8.

    [27] Laboria Cuboniks, Xenofeminism: A Politics for Alienation, URL: http://www.laboriacuboniks.net

    [28] Jacques Rancière, Dissensus: On Politics and Aesthetics (New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2010), p. 70.