NOVADIC TRANSMISSIONS from Nodes 0 & n [Pt1]

Novadic Mandala by Angela Taylor

[A sampling of recent Novadic transmissions, dispersed in all directions, via OAS Nodes 0 & n]:

∞

[9.12.2012]

The Memory Palace Story. Fwd: [september17discuss] Explorations in the Anarchives

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no one should brave the underworld alone...the words kept returning to me though I had long since given up trying to remember where I'd seen them.  Or heard them.  I repeated it aloud and heard the small sound of ALONE ricochet off a thousand walls and down various tunnels, which could only suggest one thing...I was back in the Ballroom.

Fuck.

Feeling both sides of the walls in the small tunnel open out into a wide panel that went up for who knows how many meters...feeling the empty sense of a long dark chasm just a few footsteps away...feeling the thick, dreadful depression of realizing that I'd done a whole tunnel circuit and come up with nothing again.  Nothing but the indiscernible and unmistakable smell of the Ballroom, the largest room in the tunnels so far.  I look down at the ball of twine on my belt, surprised it isn't more empty.  Hadn't I been walking for hours it seemed, maybe a whole day?  Solar cycles no longer made sense, of course, but the memory of "days" still lingered, nostalgia that made the outside world still seem possible.

The Wormhole.  It just popped into my head.  Sounds right.  I wonder what memories would be held in that circular finite tunnel...

Getting turned around and winding back into the Ballroom was hardly the worst thing that could have happened.  I know where I end and where I begin again. Walking back up along to the right side wall, I find the little stone tied with my string...wait, no that's not it...no, this ground feels different.  Gravelly, not so dusty as I recall.  Feeling around more in front of me my hands came to a suddenly very steep slope suddenly sliding down from my hands where the pebbles are shifting and sliding and it feels like there is no SOLID ground, no bottom at all, and so she frantically pushed back and back, trying to shift the center of gravity in the opposite direction to the solid rock wall...

And suddenly I was there.  Back flat against the wall, and apparently safe again.  They're certainly keeping my flight response in check. Whoever had designed this seemingly endless network of caves, whoever had left those sacred objects in a random assortment of shrines, over how much time and how many generations, had they also designed this perilous trap?  The cave appeared to once have been an underground metropolis, but how many people it could have held it was hard to say.  This planet seems to get older the longer I spend here.  And from when I'd had the batteries for my headlamp, I knew abt the drawings and writings on the walls, some inscribed, some paper flaky thin like paint, some dusty colored ash marks left against the earthy walls, and apparently in the same hand.  It was a danger to rub against too many surfaces, for fear of rubbing off the previous memories that were contained there; wasn't that the whole point to come down here?  To investigate the secret network of tunnels: they'd told me to stay away, strictly admonished by the bloodline family for even considering it, and the warning, never, EVER, to lose yr way.  How many had disappeared down here? 

The Goonies, even after they'd had their movie, all of the neighborhood kids had returned to find their way to the former grave of One-Eyed Willy, and all of them had gone missing.  Made for a hell of a newspaper story, but those bourgeois journalists had never really gone that deep in their story, and certainly none had actually gone into the tunnels to look for them...all of them knew "well" enough to stay away from the caves themselves. They rested with a meaningless fear of the absurd, of the potential eternity that lay deep in the story itself...in the people, the dark thoughts, the bold desire for adventure that had driven them into the surface of the earth.  Why...why....why..........

The words were coming from her again, echoing back to her ears, recalling herself from memory.  The Wormhole.  Strange.  I don't know why I'd thought that I was back in the Ballroom.  Encountered it several times before, always the same smell, a rich emptiness that was neither dank nor cramped.  But the spiraling path that descended from where she had entered -- how far down, how to know? -- that was certainly not here.  Stupid, to think I had just ended up back in the exact same place up and nearly ended up sinking into a gravel pit that sounded as if it descended to its own dark infinity.

I can risk a little light here, to illuminate the darkness, and briefly uncover these surroundings.  Not much paper left, but pull out the notebook anyway, and the rock & flint, that could set the paper to flame. 

[CLACK]
  
[CLACK] 

As soon as the spark took, I looked toward the wall and squinted, and it was at that moment that the Black decided to attack.

∞

Les Inrocks - Occupy Wall Street : un an après, que sont-ils devenus ?

Dear Gamers!


this is a press article featuring some gamers (Danielle, Jezzy, atchu), our school of thought #novad, and of course the collective RevGames. there is also a good mention of #Magic Mountain, the famous squatt in Wall Street.

good job and let's keep spreading alternatives.

http://www.lesinrocks.com/2012/09/12/actualite/occupy-wall-street-un-apres-que-sont-ils-devenus-11302283/#.UFC-qrLzIYE.mailto

Ale

PS Thanks Arnaud for the heads up! :-)

∞

[9.10.2012]

Rovers, #Reclaim!

;;playful revolutionaries;;

just quickly bringing to your attention the importance of the historical moment we are living, both regarding our movement and its place in the currents & counter-currents of history. it becomes increasingly clear to me that the whole modus of thought & action we have been experimenting with for the past year in #occupy has now acquired a level of maturity that is typical of a SCHOOL OF THOUGHT. yay, cheers for theoretical consistency! 

the convergence of many intellectuals and ludic practitioners gives me great joy :: this Fibonacci Arena -- a.k.a. Pluripotential Space -- :: has in its womb many complementary threads that are coming together like music.

#Reclaim, for instance - the diligent work Ted has been doing for a while now - is bringing from the London Global Summit a whole juridical framework that code the sovereignty and rights of a society based on roving communes.  

-- me, Jez and Rafa are working on the #Anarchives for a while, the foundation of time and memory of a potential new society. 

the #OAS node 1 (and n!) is the school that teaches these experiments-explorations. and of course, also a place for research,, extensions and interactions. 

#novad (#nova + #nomad = #novad) as a school of thought & publication,, spreading these ideas around the world,, etc

#Magic Mountain, #Salons, - our unleashing of TAZs.

and the #ROVER movement. 

hope that with this small letter, others are able to see the coming together of these planes of consistency. we are doing political literature my friends, we are doing #poiesis!   

Ale

∞

[9.11.2012]

Occupy Wall Street,

We are two freelance artist from Estonia who are passionate about introducing games as a form on serious journalism.

Our latest game "The Assangenist" has come to life in support of WikiLeaks and Julian Assange. In "The Assangenist" the player is set inside Julian Assange's shoes, who acts as a symbol for someone bringing sensitive information out in the open. Through the interactive experience we wish to raise awareness on the conflict between transparency and power and show the player first hand, how in this world the fight for transparency can be "rewarded".

The game can be played here: http://www.imepilt.com/assangenist/

If you feel that this game supports your cause and is in any way helpful for making the world more transparent, you can use it any way you see fit!

Best wishes,
Almondi Esco
Co-founder of Imepilt
www.imepilt.com

Spreading the interactive word!

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