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Preface for Cyber Sandwich by Sandeep Hoonjan & Adarsh Nellore ----------------------------------------------The evolution of cyberspace from metaphysical simulation to simulacra is underway. The spatial fusion of the analog and the digital promises unprecedented realities and hyperspaces that seamlessly recreate our fundamental senses and extend our capabilities. But what is it like to smell at a lower resolution? Cyber Sandwich further explores the spatial politics of metarealities, asking how we might create value in a digital reality where everything can be made abundant. In other words, what is the cost of ignoring basic thermodynamic principles, in which energy can neither be created nor destroyed? To answer this question, we explore the inherent irony within meta-realities, the idea of a space within a space, a recurring loop in which each cyberspace recreates the last, becoming an infinite spiral inward. ----------------------------------------------To opt out of cyberspace is to opt out of existence. If you think that’s dramatic, maybe it’s our sense of loneliness when away from it, the difficulty of being just a little too much bohemian to achieve the basics. IRL, it can be tempting to opt out of a 24/7 mailman, a global
comment section, or a physical brick that unlocks these cyberspaces for you. But what happens when you’re not just opting out of Twitter, but opting out of a new world that simulates the physical to the extent that IRL is irrelevant? How do you go for a walk when the sidewalks and the laws of physics that govern them are man-made? To answer these questions, we look at the signs. These signs are literal. As a means of navigation and understanding. What way do I look when crossing the road? And once I’ve crossed it, how many toppings can I ask for on my footlong cheese sandwich? In exploring this, we leant on an opinionated truth, this being that in a thousand years there will still be paperwork. If there is paperwork in the physical, there will still be error messages in the digital. And like a hard copy printout, the whole range of 2D-4D will never be irrelevant, except with the addition of YD (Your Dimension), built in the reality of our own genesis. ----------------------------------------------In the following pages we’ll take you through one vision of cyberspatial signage: ----The Flat ----The Full 3D ----The Crash ....and.... ----The Faux 3D
At some point they made the transition from toasters to personal transport. It was the perfect pivot. “Remember when Fuji repurposed everything from photographic film to cosmetics?” Give it enough attempts and any smart toaster can can deliver a slice of bread irradiated exactly to your desire, but an elevator is different. In this place, it’s not about efficiency - at least not in the simulacra. Here, it’s experience design in a sacred space. “Just a bit longer... a few more seconds till enlightenment.”
-S|- Hey I was wondering how long we might be waiting I can’t see the queue moving like: ----------------------------$ You are number NaN in queue $ You are number NaN in queue $ You are number NaN in queue $ You are number NaN in queue $ You are number NaN in queue $ You are number NaN in queue $ You are number NaN in queue .. -----------------------------S|- I’ve seen it go slowly but not like htat -(J)- Sorry we had some chat and cuts -S|- *that
Owning space in a market that lacks abundance makes a whole lot of chances for whim. If you want it 100 meters high, then do it, not that it means anything. I used to just keep a ratio of what everything was worth to me, a currency in pixels and time to transfer. In this way I made it so anyone over 6ft tall would take a minute longer to get to my house. Even if they shrunk when they got here, I made it their convenience tax for gloating their good genetics. For a while we would model doors to a house, but then it was more fun just to go through the wall. They were literally paper thin. Or more really. Did you ever think about an abosulte zero thickness? Of having something that in 2D didn’t even exist? Well, that’s my kind of door.
It was really a way to get a better sense of community at first. [It’s] so hard to put a gate up on your own, and even then people find a way to come and go, to peek in, we can always see them. So I just thought, we thought that... there’s no security like yourself looking back. The casuals and tourists, and the wierdos from other blocks... It would be easy to trust a firewall, to look at the green light and think, ‘it’s going to stay mine’. Though that’s like sleeping with your curtains open. I could never do it.
Digital graffiti is usually not so difficult to clean, but far more persistent than the analogue kind. Sometimes just text, or a raster stuck to the walls. Usually it is opinion, short snippets of a passer-by’s psyche posted and reposted in context of an opposing (or even better - agreeing) structure. We usually advise better security in the first place, but in case this doesn’t work, first check your priveleges. Who’s been nearby and what are they alowed to do in this space? If it really gets out of hand, just reset, replace the wall. Always keep a blank model ready and don’t get too creative with exterior facing features.
Private plots have been difficult to keep for a while on this server. Prices keep going up for local rent and the pool is extra. I had to block everyone else out... lock it to just 2 users at a time. The problem is the resolution. It takes alot to keep that water clear you know. I could make it flat again though then why have it in the first place? Why not just put down a rug? I could go open source, though I’d have to keep the server local. I can’t get past the greenlighting of the big landlords without seriously improving my own making skills... couldn’t program those waves myself. Maybe I’ll just hand it over. There’s a decent bit of resale on my furniture even if it is blank, it’s unique. That’s the one thing I am good at making, if anyone is really into old school non-functional furniture. Barely a sculptor - I’ve never been though at this point it’s sell or get out, and I can’t just get out. I can’t let them kick me.
Every morning I count the steps of my dog, though for the past four days it has been zero. His paws never reach the floor. He is swimming an inch above the ground, and I measured. Again by sight in the sunlight. I shade myself from simulation with tinted lenses, though they seem to reveal more and more voids. Homes removed and senses perverted to be linear reminders of small segments in time. Out of order. in perfect two dimensions that disappear to a point as I walk around planes that used to be my home, or my neighbor or in mirrors projecting myself. Sometimes I’m afraid to turn. I only move in one dimension forwards. This morning I rolled out of bed with my eyes closed and didn’t open them until I felt something solid. Though nothing is sharp. Even points are fuzzy, edges don’t hurt when I touch them. I’m fixing this terror by making things flat. There is a horizon line that I lock on to, depth disappears and each part of my life is ordered in perfect scale wherever I am. I only move to feel my legs, though now that everything is static I don’t have to change positions. They don’t even come to me. They just are in place. Before, I had dreamed of teleportation, though now I have a better solution. To place each symbol of my being on a canvas, projected as shadows on a wall at the back of each eye.
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Now daemons are created in digital worlds with absolute abundance, a technological singularity with no need for want, yet they still feel nostalgia. Their nostalgia is for a world primitive to their own, the physical that came before their time. Those that go in and out of the digital and physical place themselves in a range of bias towards one or the other. Both are real, though with two separate magic circles to act in. Those that bias towards either, equally crave for the senses in their youth; for example the freshly baked cherry pie. This has greater depth of aroma in the physical for most, as with all simulated things in the digital, it is a clinical representation of the original recipe. But other items of nostalgia are perfect in the digital. Those of binary aesthetics and pixels perfect. The nostalgia of interfaces obsolete have just as much depth as that of an original physical cherry pie. Though they can be called again in perfection (only lacking context). This form of nostalgia is often dissapointing, because the simulacrum does not call back a screenshot of the brain in time. Tastes have changed, and observing a past is never as satisfying unless for the explicit purpouse of introspection. This is similar to the dilemma of the movie director and the critic. Who has more ownership over the product’s message? One watches the movie in it’s completion, whereas the other only filmed it!
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> $ >The evolution of cyberspace from metaphysical simulation to $ simulacra is underway. $ $ $ >The spatial fusion of the analog and the digital promises $ unprecedented realities and hyperspaces that seamlessly recreate our $ fundamental senses and extend our capabilities. $ $ $ >But what is it like to smell at a lower resolution? $ $ $ >What is it like to take a walk in cyberspace? $ $ $ $ $ $