Womenifestos!

“Her mind is a matrix of non-stop digital flickerings.”

-Misha 1991:113 On The Matrix, Cyberfeminist simulations. Sadie Plant.

I am glitching. There is an an error in my structured system. I am stuck in a waiting-room, just on the other side of the proverbial screen.

𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕖, 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖, 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔.

𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕖, 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖, 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔.

𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕖, 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖, 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔.

The glitch is my catalyst, not an error. It is a perfectly choreographed, routine occurrence.Reality is a glitch, but it is also just a dream (Except in politics, reject all illusion as political inhibitors.) I am not disillusioned, I am just pursuing the virtue ethics of dreaming. Dreaming of a better world.

"Descartes’ dream argument began with the claim that dreams and waking life can have the same content. There is, Descartes alleges, a sufficient similarity between the two experiences for dreamers to be routinely deceived into believing that they are having waking experiences while we are actually asleep and dreaming. The dream argument has similarities to his later evil demon argument. According to this later argument, I cannot be sure anything I believe for I may just be being deceived by a malevolent demon."

I awake from my dreams and I see fibre-optic cables, radios and microwaves, electromagnetic radiation and gamma-rays, seed oils and gas pipelines, aerial and expedited shipping routes, growing marine plastic pools and carbon emission clouds, modest feminist agendas and fragmented insurrections. Our physical and mental limits are able to create significant feelings of tension of separation—I feel like liquorice; twisting, twisting, twisting. Yet my spine never cracks. Separated and disconnected I manifest the impetus for my very own alienation. We are in a liminal space where identity is lacking, control has been beared-away with and consequences for actions seem futile in a world where nothing matters because nothingness only mimics the concept of infinity. Connections to space and time drift further astray, memories become conflated with realities which become conflated with dreams. I present to you, the crudest dream of all: the dehumanization of our world. Supreme Leader In Power: Parasites. Mimetic parasites and puritanical politics of shame. Was Irigaray right, is all we have left, mimicry? Hysteria? Catatonic silence?

The pessimistic, patriarchal parasite is being exterminated. The digital revolution preludes a delving hegemonic power structure. Technology and culture will fuse in positive feedback loops to emancipate disparities of power. A networked individualism of built networks based on need, value, solidarity will birth a new global society. A zone of freedom. XF opens up the possibility of an agency, able to transform—it is a rationalism. The computer is no longer a decentralized military weapon. The computer is not one unified role, it can do anything, it can be anything—it is a complex system beyond representation. It is liberation for women, it is the abolition of class, gender, and race. It is a reworking of the Universal. It is a radical articulation of a fluid, feminized future.

I stare into the blue light of the screen. Stimulating my retinas causing photopsia is the closest thing I can get to dreaming while conscious. I don’t want to dream, there is no control over dreams. I will grieve not with screens, but with my contemplations, my vacant gazes into the street. Sorry, I’m busy I can’t talk right now. I’m relating myself to myself in the relation. I’m twirling and twisting and my system is glitching.