brian carroll on Fri, 29 Jun 2001 10:29:03 +0200 (CEST)

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[Nettime-bold] re: internetontology - addendum

  a bit of explication on-tology...

  one being the sender, ShelfLife, as a good resource for
  info archivists, and databasing (free-bsd or not) mind,
  all that is information archaeology, as some taxonomist
  of the future-past may and may not call it, paradoxic.

  thus, as resource, ShelfLife might be worth a nettimer
  or thirteen, to contemplate subscription, but, feel free
  (as hell) to unsubscribe too, if your heart beats that way.

  the ontology guide, in itself, many layers, ... and to add
  opinion-editorial to the text, seems to tarnish or at the
  very least, varnish it. which is as bad, in objectivizing
  textualization of the internetworked discourse as product,
  knowledge, base is foundation, words, ideas, text-image,
  see-saying what is to the mental sky in the eye, as crows
  caw and owls whoo away, night to day, day to night, ...

  what was once the word now the letter, acronymphomaniacal.
  XML illiterated. language, universalized. divide conquer,
  knowing made into equations of keywords, all puzzled in,
  only problems, missing pieces, who can fill those? insiders.

  problems, taxonomic, for any db or link lister, how to
  categorize, what is this that other thingness. whether art,
  architecture, biotech, or the ubiquitious front breadbaker,
  loaves, electronic, wavers, silicon, put them upon tongue
  blind one, so you can finally see that which is infront of
  you, as if it really were that anyways. chalky taste of
  burnt metal, teeth falling out of mouth as marbles, and
  games, word games, private languaging, massaging verbage,
  wordage, making say what cannot be-zeen, like nn in the
  in-between, letter and number, meta-alchema, and whatnot.

  problems, situations, Opportunities, united in One Language,
  decided upon by standards committees, special interests
  anyone? everyone? no one? where is everyone? there is only
  One, that one, mythic, what is, which can never be said,
  that missing piece of the ontological grand schematic, as
  system builders turn world builders in the game, not of
  life, but the end-game of the megamachinic bureademocracy.

  rules are rules, at a point, needed, necessary. at what
  point, the subject, naysay, say saynayers. maybe before,
  mentioned. before the idea, before the word, at languaging.

  Xerographic Manipulation Largesse. fabby plants and fatty
  pants and fooby lubes and naked tubes, all rock rack and
  split shacks open wide humming buzz of walls airphonics
  as hyrdo squirt goes porculean, great poetic oh homeric,
  time split, multidimentalized and architexturealized, is
  the collaborative what is, thinking thoughting feeling it.

  prior to a priority. ideation, before contemplation, and
  perceiving before believing. information as data, data
  and bases for knowing what is. how to do this groupology
  in grammatological straightjacketing of wordplay, as the
  subject ever-shapeshifting makes luminous only madness as
  expressive abstraction, blowing frost on haunted mirrors...

  what works for words, works for words as structure, as
  codes, as info-datasets, to programmatically reprogram
  the language-truth-logic chip setting our brainspaces
  awash in meaning less the truth of what is shared, in
  humblest of hummel ornamental patternings of premediated
  and meditate on this toilet seat of pragmatic flushing,
  the academic decree to be word authority, saying what is
  from mountain on high, standing, professorilizing the
  student body, holy shit, the see, the see, the holy we,
  This is What Is, total author, loans to pay, game to play,
  climbing corporately collectivized ladders into hellfire.

  we'll babysit your kids, goats they are, and wash your
  car, finest wax on your bodyskins, massaging oils to
  keep you better than new again, morgue-nationilization,
  ugh, We Are the WhiteTeeth. We are the Aerobicized. We
  are the People in Black (sans those pesky helicopters,
  but we have D&G in hollow heel, as if we wear sneakers!)

  ahhh, laughing out loud to what but words of voices
  only heard in mindspace, gameplace, that eternalized
  self-referrant, memory. and what of knowledge, and words,
  and limits, and standards, and universalizing concepts,
  industries, ideas, into one thing, larger, with the
  internet-ontology going beyond the WWW and into that
  of the WWW of the collective head?

  will peace and harmony reign in the standization of
  differentiation, no wonder there, quarralling few as
  XML and others spew, MS did this, NS did that, pieces
  not only missing, we can ignore those, sayers say, but
  now puzzle broken, beyond repair, utopic despair, so
  sell kakatopia as the greatest next hypersonic thing,
  a pseudo-universalization of the language game, but
  played only with rules of institutional authority,
  as Domain Names and IP Numbers are mapped, so too
  the human language, as the OED is trapped as is the
  NYTimes to say what happens today. eyes that see,
  cannot say, The Crow, said so, so it seemed, to thee.

  Owl infraradaring the scenic, wings spanning enough
  to bring down any Platonic Guardian from their heights,
  the electromagnetic wilderness calling all who hear
  whistling winds, chiming, singsonging, rhythms, pure.

  enough huff and puff, enough firebreathing and brow-
  beating, cro-magnanimous cocktailing of the wanderlust
  for rising that height of the spare tired way of doing
  things over and over, sartrical, ahhh! exit the fire!

  door closed, limited, minds crushed, waves of crazed
  mentally deranged in the regulation of freedom of it,
  free speechism in the holy shit of the academy, ohh,
  toilet paper degree, thinkfeeling nothingness and
  calculate that in anyone's omnibus. oh porculus!

  making sense, in, a, nay, shun, of, lye, errs, can,
  never, happen, in, grammatical, some say, political,
  correctness, rules rules rules. but, wicked as that
  fact is, there is a need to shit out a degree or two,
  in the holy deleuze-guattarian dictionarialization of
  the two-thought corporatization of the mindbody nation.
  go joyconic, eu-federalic, united statesian, grammar
  as info as data preinterpreted in the global db of
  intelligence, fuzzy logic, and artifice, interpreted.

  onto logic. words. words wording. ideas ideations, as
  are internationalizations, shared concepts, rules of
  disengagement, social mores, boundaries as big as any
  capital I or We could ever bridge, if not being human.

  MAN machine, hahah, cyberfrenetic masculine id, crisis.
  mankind, so pathetic a universal, paternal nation, not
  enough, conquer that of mind, wheretofore? psychologic.

  d&g break pattern matching, re-cognizing break point
  in the pong game back and forthing, frothing, as the
  last second little blip from thought to mind to aether
  to mind to thought regurgites any ideas of what is as
  what could it be? must be? should be? ahhh, that is it.
  it is not is. it is it. fallic. as He, godless heathen
  that He is, seas it in that damn floating raft on the
  waves of wormholing coffins spacetime travailing that
  octopii of identities, the meta as man, when Words are
  God, and Authors are Authorities, and Total Concepts
  are Totalitarian, for whom, the electronic buzzerzzzs!

  the way out is the way back in, to mind, mental atmos-
  pherics, world shaping the shifting of paradigmatic,
  puss of a word, change of THE REAL from models that
  were built in metaphysical minds of non-electronic
  times, only sublimely true, else poetry to me and you.

  today, electromagnetic literality, the what is, am
  told, modelled on ideas centuries old, as precursors
  to what is now, but with only foresite, no looking back,
  as none of it makes sense, if the basis of the true
  has changed, the sublime becoming realer, the real
  becoming the subliminal... messaging instant as the
  synapse of the internetwork chatters about constant,
  this is this is this is that and this is that but
  just a tad different, another XML tag, go to the
  university, pay to play, get that XML tag, get a
  job, get a 'name' in the global directory as your
  own piece of intellectualized private property, no
  sharing in this peer to peer, as there is no peer
  network that is not hierarchical in the nation-state,
  but totalized control of mindthinkfeeling, from that
  surrogate the mediasphere. gone to graveyards, all
  minds are begged, go to sleep now... into fantasies
  that the grand word puzzle, game of world players,
  leaders in drag, queens and presidentialized peons,
  move US forward to nowhere but the past, that logic
  that is falsified by its very beingness, as what is,
  can it ever be it, when it is only is, never it, as
  it self, it's this, but not this, only is only is.

  what the fuck does this have to do with nettime, you
  ask? flame comets sparking through dusty universals,
  wordaging fades, commentaries untold, interpretations
  beg, own mind cracking, body snapping, pop pop pop.

  there is no way to say, this way, this way. what can
  be said this way, how is this the universal seesaying
  that we do have some-thingess in common, between us,
  not US, not Us, not uS, well, maybe that. but, complexity
  and word-reality, and then xerographology in the infinite
  wordplay, standards without logical basis in the real,
  pseudonomic, as eco, pol, and soc cult crit can be,
  coming into what see, into what raining down as truth
  from thundrous skies telling, you damn better be scared
  lightning strike, trees falling, uprooting tornadic
  hailstorms, private-personal-people data, owned by
  the conglomeration of the idea-nation, ideologic as
  the way ahead, total, standardize, global mindgames
  and crazy people locked up as insane, take them damn
  drugs you moron and behave already. suicidal realities
  as states of being nothingness breathe down necks of
  contemplative acts of freedom saying, seeking truth,
  with no shared language, just another subjectivity
  dying in the winds, ohhh those ghosts of charge as
  they float as memories, embedded as inks in the oils
  of aetheric dreams... all they do is call, sirens on
  those rocks, to crash, crash, crash into me they
  haunt, silencing all the din, chaotic orderings of
  irrationilizationatory hallucidentity, which warlockian
  ecologic is this, this, thhhhhhh, thhhhhhhh, sssss, is.


  drums, bass racing, neighborhood booming jungle sound
  as rhythm beating brains into submissionary positions.
  sending waves of non-energic noise-combustion bombations
  into audiospheric mental atmosphronic catatonic drink
  mixing, booze licking stick clicking rag tag mind zap.
  brain dead. music music music music pound pound pound
  hot brain. cells frying. this is your brain on electro-
  magnetic radiation, this radioactivated inter-nation,
  alley, meet with the elephants, tribe has arrived, go
  off the street, listen winds, owls howling odd odd beat.
  see say, who who, you you, who you, you, who. yes, you.

  all futures, onto. logic, we, humanity. crucifixation,
  load your nodes and blast off to the next planetary
  mission. slip your toast into sockets, bring home all
  frozen dinners to the last day on earth. globe will be
  warming the food, as skin falls to the ground to sweep.
  aids, no dependents, in this age of knowing nothingness.
  responsbility, for shared language for action in the
  sphere of shared goals. without logic, there cannot be
  words that bind ideas into shared goals. can never be,
  illogically, unless paradox, unless going from that
  Newtonian what is, to the 'what, is?' of uncertain
  certainty. every wastes away. yet, ideas. something
  here, now, in this, not this, but the is, is here to
  stay, if we can hearseessay, what is is. shared is
  what is, for the external machinery making Things
  Work. need to challenge this. cannot with only the
  competitionality of success models of thoughtthinking
  when conclusive this or thatness is not shared but
  privitized in an exclusive languaging, ontologicality.

  word, such as DIRT. why so hard to contemplate, in a
  nettimed space? as shared truth. sure, infinite meaning
  for DIRT, cross cult, but is there not somethingness in
  common with DIRT in the world? XML. if DIRT, then maybe
  other things., too hard without DIRT. architecture,
  as hard, if not moreso, as a category rather than a sub-
  mariner of the psychic waters of what is and what's not.
  negation of the idealization of DIRT being a question
  rather than an answering alone, DIRT is not only expert
  knowledge for the scientific rationalization of the
  mathematicalized molecularization of statistical reality,
  as it portends to be All That Is, truth = 1. false= 0.
  reminder to self: love can never be greater than zero.

  equality quasaric equationary expeditions walk through
  packed ice, packed snow, packed grass, packed DIRT, icey
  aged into cubes, drinking from that toxic mountain, oh
  Zappa! oh Zappa! yellow snow of the Dinosauroraborealis.
  make way, make way, tundra falling, tree leavelessening,
  nothing more to say, nothing more, nothing conveyed beyond
  it, the is always outfront, always behind, never here in
  spacetime, but a balancing action, not just verbage, not
  just wordage, but rulology, making way for standard play.

  what if, is a question. what is, always is, a question,
  always asking for answers, impossible but not improbable.
  laugh away all fools. kill all monsters surrounding haunted
  psyches, boom boom walling in, pop pill another din din,
  as all warps around plasticized sounding, no energization
  only verbiage as searlian incommunicado, noise, spectral.

  in short: taking a document such as the ontology one, at:

  and looking at its rules, or beliefs, or doctrines, whatever
  theory-play make-believe one needs to say to one's self, ish,
  ness, ego-incorporated, is to ask for shared knowledge in a
  nettime, in an XML world, universal languaging equals, in a
  false positive, with certainty (of course!!!), some basic
  truthes to be had by logic reason rationalizing ideas in
  the internetwork, on or offline. if left to experts, which
  no doubt it will be, a corrupted haggling of half-baked
  masculine valley tundra fuck will weed its way into brews
  of catechismic revelations that we, are a family tree, we
  are an ontology. we are monkeys, if left to be. we are only
  numerology. we are not human beings. we are statical genes.
  we are theorized xerographic memes. etc etc. (stop playing
  that damn music, you throwback, 30something neighbor yaps,
  as gong shows and orthographic parties are not enough, life
  becoming movies becoming lives becoming society is that of
  social engineering in reverse, that is, going backwards in
  time, to a false assurity, that what is, is it, not is...)

  what if nettimers worked together on a nettime XML project:
  and found commonality by answering/more than discourse, but
  conclusively addressing the ontological being of nettiming,
  in xyz, a necessary lossy format, so that not all is lost,
  when dust turns to, well, nothingness, as it always does,
  except, charges, ideas, dreams, goals, missions, purposes,
  values, hopes, loves, wishes, reverances, beliefs... is'ing...


Why would someone want to develop an ontology? Some of the reasons are:
         To share common understanding of the structure of 
information among people or software agents
         To enable reuse of domain knowledge
         To make domain assumptions explicit
         To separate domain knowledge from the operational knowledge
         To analyze domain knowledge


  these are some necessary eviluations, to permancing languagespeak
  beyond individualized what is ismatisms.  each of the bullet points
  is a question seeking a probable but uncertain answering, needed to
  move beyond chaos, into order, into shared knowing. into working
  together on things bigger than one self, one ego, one idea in
  a private sphere of mind, gaming on how to play the next hand
  job, to rise ladders into dragon's lairs, and then cry tears
  inside for lives not lived, as bondage can never forgive lost
  chances, opportunties never taken, dreams never followed. only
  horses of the night, riding that thunder into the mindspace when
  it shouts out loud on bus over bridge, STOP! LETME OUT! and the
  jump into waters hundreds of feet below, there goes madness, bus
  goers say, as they turn back to the papers, fed them with their
  daily cereal, the bread of the modern day peasantry, riced and
  crispy, and reads words, standardized in press, same thing as
  heard on tv and radio sets. and low and behold, last bastion
  of hope and faith, 5 years hence, the entire internetscape.

  without some compromise between egos, between thoughts, at the
  level not of words, not of reason, not even of logic, yet, but
  of goals, can we, as whomever, as humans maybe, as listmembers,
  say, with some uncertain certainy, that a nettime ontology may
  help move forward ideas that otherwise stay in continuous and
  illusory loops of meaning and self-referential patterns, (as
  a universal eventing), until we can break the chain, crack the
  code, write out its architecture, and reprogram this master
  chipset in our headspace, our psycho-logic, so we can break
  the loopy-tune of VR modeling language we exist with, in wording,
  and make our way out of this confined and burning Planetary Big
  Joke and try to make something impossible happen, however mad?

  ay! no more to seesayhearway. all is negated. no thing is known.
  all that surveill change the experiment, alter its coordinates,
  react, changing events into activations, see brick walls of
  the old smokestacking of the deck, hidden cards all around,
  house of mirrorshading multiplexed broadcasting inversionary,
  as the illuminations are inside, fires still, suns, goddesses,
  time to make the leap, e-volute, shun nary a thingness to it,
  but is, not ism, autistic silencing of ideas, hopes, truth--
  it can beat any power at any game at any time, if it is willed...

  share what you know, in wordage. but beyond. trust. making ways
  to futures, needing unfolding. holding hands, holding hearts,
  as bombs burst, cigars lit, drinking scotlandish mythic rain.

  all coming down, oh owl, oh crow, oh tree dying from pollution,
  oh butter flying all around me, dancing, no wired mimetic bee,
  and favorite ants colonizing cities of flesh, hoot hoot, and
  shrivel the song bird stares, looking back, eye to eye, see-
  saying what is, and it is, and we know without saying, some-
  thing is shared. an innate ontos. philos. arche. logos. we.

  nettime, eternity.

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