Social Digital Leisure
by Dylan North

This piece of writing is a personal meditation on various topics all circling around our present condition as a rhizomatically connected society. A kind of conceptual dowsing exercise as I navigate these issues and how they influence my work.

We rest on the wires of the web; lounge chairs full in the chat room. What was noise is mist; static sprays. E-mbrella's tucked away today, the utility tone singes the cloud. Hash encryption unrolled wet. At first the wired is a rhizomatic resort. Meatspace is checked away at concierge and our identities are demarginalized. The web wants to talk to you, the world won't. So go lay web-side and watch the digital ocean. Before the wired there was nowhere to go but here, and you were truly there. After the wired everywhere in the world became a directory on here dot com, easily accessible and free to experience. You'll always find people/programs scavenging and scuttling, no folder is left alone. Three IRC idling somebodies somewhere becomes 3 typing, 6 users, 14 guests, 33 bots online and that's everywhere always. You can rip the whole city and patch it into every vein from a basement bachelor farming town node.

Bookmarks are habitual ritual enclaves, the loading screen replaced by the second screen. Look while loads. Each has their own profile of You – but your settings aren't the same. First we split between the real and the wired; our new found mind is entangled for a time. Change directory. Change usernames (same password?). A new mind divides. Another again tomorrow, then again tonight, then again in a click, once more in a redirect. Recursive fractal disentanglement from the real.

I'm a little riskier under a name, and it's best if it never becomes a Name, just enough for a handle. Now we have to pass by sights/sites. No where lasts for long on Here, every node eventually gets liked, shared and subscribed until it's either one of the service denied or server seized or settled with seniors moments. It'd all seem like labyrinthine protocol to the uninitiated but we are masters and administrators of the gesture. If you feel the rising anxiety they just want you to swipe. Swipe, Save, Swipe, Share, Ad, Offer, Order. The asphalt is botanized by grazing masses.

The plaza's escalator is broken so everyone stays Here. But there's vacancy at the top if you ascend: There's room and there's RAM, you can occupy the social real and the science fictive. We constantly experience and re-experience cultural moments through remixes, rehashes, renewals, and reviews. The historical becomes the ahistorical; the temporal becomes the atemporal. The process cycles exponentially on the global board. Take a moment to find some solace. The first time's free – and so is everything for the few. Get yourself unstuck in time, just find some fragments and piece your own world together. At first it feels like a deprivation tank but then your senses snap. Awakened by a drop but the room has been humming all night. The torrential download can be startling but you'll adapt. Now the masses are constricted to brand-name trademarked watering holes, few go out into the desert or the deluge to find their own. They don't realize the individual is at risk on the network sold as social. Doublespeak went cubic and what feels like a million disparate voices is really just a few capsuled responses and opinions bouncing off each other.

If you can leave the undertow then do it. There's endless hierarchy, hegemony and hoodwinks out there but if you can find a link then you can find a chain. Follow that chain and you might find a fence – you might log in to the bating swarm. Then the random distribution of nodes coalesces into a self-organizing phenomenon of the rhizomatic real. That's why I want to be wired; to be real.

Augment the upgrade because you can't be too trusting. It's best to control the Earth's coincidences from your libre Office suite. Tap into the electromagnetic mating call and go ultra sonic. Rapid I Movement. Deep dreams in the neural network. Do you still need your device? Or have you found the resonance? Be a freq of nature. Or find your own identity in the transcendent remix. Copyright notice pop-up out the window. Make it your own because you still can. Remember that you always could. We're already living on layers of cybernetic archaeology. Few dig.