Lopez calls for the "occupation and reclamation of public spaces and the cultural commons" as a form of resistance to the dominance of the monocultures of consumerism and mind control. —> To “restore balance in society,” away from this rule by a monolithic perspective, Gaggio cites Henry Minzberg: “restoring balance in society requires moving past two-sided politics and giving equal weight to three sectors: Public (political), Private (economic), and Plural (social), representing governments, businesses, and communities. The plural sector is not a middle way between the other two. It is made of communities, associations, cooperatives, NGOs, religious groups, movements and social initiatives. The critical difference is that none of it is owned by private companies or controlled by the government.”
People: Hard things, carefully. Max hug time of 3 mins in NZ. Amor fati. Ordinary places to visit.
Life: How do plants aim towards light? Mining asteroids for food. Mitochondria are alive.
Art: John Cage 4’33” premiered on 29 August 1952. BananArt. Lolcats in 1911. Listening to music in a neighbourhood. Order of the third bird-ing. Locating photobooths.
Tech: Weird keyboard. GeOSINT for celebrities. Why foresight matters. TSMC and Chinese customers. Cybergypsies.
AI: OpenAI sells to US Military. ChatGPT4o used in voice scams.
AI impact on CS education.
Chasing the Light in a City of Absurdities
The sun hung low over the sprawling city, casting its golden rays upon a patch of Arabidopsis weeds sprouting defiantly from the cracks in the pavement. They were no ordinary weeds; they had recently been the subject of intense scientific scrutiny, revealing that they could detect light not through eyes, but via intricate air channels that scattered the sunlight, like a disco ball at a particularly bad wedding. As they bent toward the light, a pair of hipsters nearby, armed with a vintage film camera, couldn’t help but marvel at the weeds' phototropic choreography. *“They’re just like us,”* one of them joked, *“always chasing the next trend.”*
Meanwhile, across the street, an open-air meeting of the Order of the Third Bird was in full swing. D. Graham Burnett, the group's leader, had organized a ritual to appreciate art—a series of actions designed to elicit deep attention. The absurdity of their structured appreciation was not lost on the locals. *“What’s next?”* someone quipped. *“A meeting to discuss the merits of silent music?”* This was a nod to John Cage’s infamous composition, 4'33", a piece that consisted entirely of silence and ambient noise, which naturally sparked a debate over whether silence had any merit at all.
In the bustling café nearby, Riley Walz was busy fine-tuning his Bop Spotter—a device that captured the music resonating in the Mission District. As he uploaded yet another track, he mused about how his creation was like a Möbius strip of sound, looping endlessly in the ether, connecting strangers through melodies even as they stood physically apart. *“Music is the universal language,”* he said, *“but apparently so is a well-timed hug.”*
Speaking of hugs, Dunedin Airport had recently introduced a strict three-minute limit for farewells in their drop-off zone. The absurdity of this regulation had become a running joke among frequent flyers. *“What’s next?”* someone had asked, *“Are we going to need a hug permit?”*
As the sun dipped lower, illuminating the city’s architecture, a group of employees from a nearby tech firm engaged in yet another meeting about their productivity levels. The irony was palpable; they were spending so much time discussing efficiency that they had forgotten how to be efficient. *“Maybe we should just let the plants run the company,”* one of them suggested, referencing the newly discovered capabilities of Arabidopsis.
But amid the absurdity, there was a deeper current—an underlying philosophy of acceptance, of amor fati, as they embraced their fate as urban dwellers tangled in the webs of technology and nature. As the evening wore on, they began to wonder if perhaps the weeds had it right, after all. They flourished in the cracks, bending toward the light, adapting to their environment while the humans spent their time in endless discussions about efficiency.
And so, as they embraced the chaos of their world—where productivity met art, silence met sound, and rules about hugs became the stuff of legend—they found themselves leaning into the absurdity of existence, realizing that in a city full of noise and meetings, sometimes all one truly needed was a good weed, a little music, and perhaps a hug that lasted just a little longer than three minutes.