Bunker Archaeology

A Nonsense Lab Artist Con-fessional, Part One

"Thinking involves the microperceptions that are the virtual content of the not-yet out of which potential worlds are composed. Thinking exposes the overlappings of the actual and the virtual, their complex inadequation. Research-creation works at this in-between of immanence and actuality where multiplicities converge into affirmations. Creativity folds out of thought even as it proposes thought to itself. Thought is an untimely proposition."

          — Erin Manning, "Creative Propositions for Thought in Motion," 2008


"See and be seen. Interpolate and interpellate. In a gesture of fragility and exhaustion, the Department of Biological Flow considers questions of tempo, intensity and ethics in public space and interrogates opportunities for movement in the contemporary vision machine."

          — advertisement for D S NFORMAT ON exhibition




Con-fessional: D S NFORMAT ON

Threnody from the Vision Machine

Sean Smith and
Department of Biological Flow




1. Bunker Archaeology

Where does a process begin? When does it begin? How?

Is there a starting point? If so, one cannot be easily identified in this case. There is no neat and tidy cause and effect to this story, that much is certain, no neatly ordered program of experimentation. There is no hermetically-sealed laboratory of controlled thought from which hypothesized results emerge — though there is a white cube involved.

Con-fessional: Artlab

We are describing the smooth white cube of a university art gallery, uniquely marked by its inscription within the concrete white cylinder of an institutionalized exoskeleton. From a god's eye perspective — which is to say when viewed from straight above, perpendicular to terra firma and flattened — it appears as a square inscribed within a circle — and are these two forms not irrevocably bound together within the precise numerics of royal science? Circle within square within circle, and so forth: centrepoints and radii and equidistant segments and entirely too rational tangents — the latter which gets its name from the Latin tangere or touching. Circles and squares are precise only insofar as how they come into touch with one another.

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A tangent: Humans cannot perceive "perfect" versus "imperfect" circles, nor can we create one of the former, materially, in the absence of technical assistance. We're always on the move. Rather, we've extrapolated a concept of the circle from the morphogenetics of matter-flow as they concresce into semi-stable patterns of an apparently perfect roundness. We locate this concept in mathematics and then in our instruments, which return the favour by producing perfect circles in our thought.

But matter-flow isn't perfect: it is turbulent and distorted and always decaying imperceptibly. Our circles, both those we perceive in "nature" and those we reproduce in embodied "social" forms, are always delightfully misshapen as their particles push one another in ways both predictable and unpredictable. This isn't to say these circles are any less significant and powerful, save their inability to be god-like. Instead they make explicit that their power derives not from their ideal mathematical form-as-such, but rather because they participate in generating the future-past of a certain intensity.

Our perceptions and gestures can never quite reach the concept, but our circles are still precise insofar as how we come into touch with them — or insofar as we perceive the intensity of the approach.

- - -

Where were we then? Right, the map. This gallery and its institution aren't just any square inscribed within any circle: the eye in the sky perceives its likeness in the form below, the narrow corridor that connects the concrete perimeter to the rest of the curriculum a sort of optic nerve that channels objects of information into and out of the enclosure, canals or conduits to this smooth gleaming white space and those processes given the label "art".

Or change the channel, god-like. The eyeball sits spherically in its ocular socket and the surface can be sliced in so many ways. Perhaps the map is an orthogonal projection and one sits on the gray matter, looking out with that orientation we call "forward". The god's eye view stares directly through that which is rocklike and solid to find the liquid abyssal beyond.

In return, the critique of ocularcentrism shifts fluidly away from the iris (with its colour and aperture) and towards the retina (with its pattern and exposure). The latter is not only a primary locus of biometric identification but the threshold at which light information is converted to electricity, which is to say, converted to the network mode of circulation.

Con-fessional: Retinal Scan

Subjecte 020063867: retinal scan, right eye. "Due to its unique and unchanging nature, the retina appears to be the most precise and reliable biometric. Advocates of retinal scanning have concluded it is so accurate that its error rate is estimated to be only one in a million." (Wikipedia)


The blood vessels that give the biometric identifier its differentiating pattern trace branchlike back to the origin and scotoma of the optic nerve, portal to contingent authority and integrated spectacle. Punctum caecum ēlectricus. Perhaps the focal point of the gallery should be viewed from slightly off-centre, then, where the optic nerve would be located in this orthogonal perspective? Perhaps this is where the story will unfold and be told, with the blind spot as zone of political action.

Did I mention this space looks like a military bunker — or maybe a nuclear reactor?

Con-fessional: Bunker

This was my artlab for four days in January 2012. This is where the experiment took place.

watered textile

casey moire

toronto raptors head coach dwane casey 'strobing' during an nba telecast

in physics, a moiré pattern is an interference pattern created, for example, when two grids are overlaid at an angle, or when they have slightly different mesh sizes. the term originates from a type of textile with a rippled or 'watered' appearance.

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wondering about moiré patterns as a possible means of understanding striated, smooth and holey spaces, as well as offering ways of thinking about opportunities for movement within layers of modulating enclosure. wondering about moiré patterns, interference and strobing as shifting relations within a politics of exposure.

following deleuze, guattari and virilio, is there a hydraulic model to be identified in optoelectronics and information patterning?

Information Bomb

(contribution to the "depletion design" catalogue, to be published by XMLab in saarbruecken, germany)

Wedding Bomb Collage

window display of bridal fashion store with war figurines advancing
on wedding dress in battle formation (multiple views)
valencia, spain
july 2007


Three Bombs

Following his decisive role in the birth of the Manhattan Project and the subsequent American military effort to develop an atomic capacity during World War II, Albert Einstein suggested that in the future the world would need to reckon with three imminent threats: the nuclear bomb, the information bomb and the population bomb. The first had already been detonated as a wartime weapon with the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945; the second concerned computer technologies such as the Colossus, Z3 and ENIAC, used not only to develop the applied mathematics of quantum theory but also as part of the effort to code and decode encrypted military messages; the third forecasted an exponential explosion of demographic growth worldwide, emerging from an expansionist vision of globalized political economy. Einstein’s hypothesis has become a motif woven insistently into Paul Virilio’s analysis of contemporary society and his war model of urban change. It is an astute conceptual choice for Virilio, since it was in the twentieth century that the implications of light speed and the theory of relativity continually unfolded to reshape social relations from the local community level to that of global geopolitics, punctuated most resoundingly by the twin detonations of Little Boy and Fat Man in 1945, and those of the Twin Towers in 2001.

Traces of these three bombs have dominated Virilio's thought in various ways for the better part of his life. A self-described child of “Fortress Europe” who grew up near the German bunkers that dotted the coast of France during the WWII occupation, he has consistently been interested in how the architectures of war organize space and—particularly since the rise of ubiquitous computing and light-speed connectivity during the past few decades—time. Indeed, for Virilio the questions of speed and time are at the heart of the information bomb and his understanding of its detonation, which we may describe broadly at the outset as those changes in social and political economy wrought by contemporary media and communication technology. According to Virilio, these produce and demand a sort of accelerated and generalized climate of interactivity, analogous to the radioactivity of the nuclear bomb.

Time is key. Virilio's position vis-à-vis the temporality of the information bomb is doubled. On the one hand he views the information bomb as an enduring condition of contemporary telematic societies, with the speed and interactivity of optoelectronic technologies having evoked a radical ontological and epistemological shift in the latter half of the twentieth century that continues today (and in this sense is more consonant with his thoughts on “grey ecology”). On the other hand he describes the information bomb more in the traditional terms of an explosion—that is, as a finite event, even if this event may not be precisely located along the timeline of history.

By way of contrast, when the artist Tom Sherman also speaks of an information bomb, or I-Bomb, he does so in a way that blends both of Virilio's approaches: as a qualitative shift in behavioural, social and commercial patterns emerging from changes in information technology that “exploded” specifically during the 1990s. Using a language of “before” and “after,” Sherman appears to bracket the explosion within the temporal parameters of the popular introduction of the WWW protocol and graphical web browser. Virilio ranges further, meanwhile, entertaining not only more complex genealogies of photography and electric technology, but also, for example, Quattrocento perspective in painting, science fiction-inspired futures scenarios, and Ancient Greek considerations of accidental properties in his critical analyses. The latter is where we shall begin to tease matters further apart, in the precarious middle of a detonation that is ongoing.

That said, the seductiveness of the bomb as motif proves problematic at times since Virilio himself weaves between the traditional understanding of a weapon and his true interest, which is the idea of bomb as a metaphor for the accident that is located within the substance of any technology—the information bomb being the accident of accidents, or the Integral Accident. Semantically fusing the weapon with the accident obscures those aspects of intent and agency required to instrumentalize properties of the latter for creating and detonating a bomb of the former type, which requires a certain degree of pulling apart wires to understand more fully (and hopefully taking care not to inadvertently cut the wrong one).

Dromology and the Integral Accident

Virilio's oeuvre revolves primarily around a “war model” of urban change, driven primarily by questions of speed and a proliferation of visioning technologies inscribed in apparatuses of power and movement. His emphasis on “dromology” (from the Greek dromos, for race or running) is not only concerned with the extreme phenomena of absolute speed in modern societies (Olympic world records, supersonic air travel, fibre optic telecommunications), but also with relative speeds and slownesses understood as thresholds of tempo. In this latter sense we find a resonance with Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari's interest in fluxes of movement-intensity as they emerge within processes of deterritorialization and reterritorialization: the control of tempo itself becomes the key qualifier of power and agency in assemblages of bodies, technologies, information-flows and other forms of materiality—as well as the affects they produce. In his war model of change, Virilio offers not only blitzkrieg tank warfare as an example of relative speed's potential contra the sheer accumulation of armoured materiel, but also the invention of aerial photography in WWI, which extended the optical gaze to new geographies for reconnaissance purposes.

Already we see the emergence of what Virilio terms the “logistics of perception,” or the capacity to arrange a (primarily visual) field of sensory experience to produce strategic outcomes, which in combination with the control of tempo described earlier may alter the complexion of armed conflict. And as with the introduction of aerial photography providing intelligence to remote military decision-makers, this logistics of perception increasingly implies strategic action-from-a-distance, manifest at ever-quicker temporal intervals. With the invention of ARPAnet as a distributed communication network following the detonation of the nuclear bomb and the rise of a persistent nuclear threat between Cold War superpowers, the conditions of possibility for a militarized and decentralized global infrastructure began to germinate. In the introduction to his interview with Virilio and Friedrich Kittler titled “The Information Bomb,” John Armitage suggests that the genesis of this military effort has (at least publicly) been supplanted by multinational corporations and their forces of monopolization, for whom connectivity, bandwidth, databases and accelerated rates of information transfer have become drivers of the contemporary economy. Together with military and political actors, this increasingly connected economy has reached a density such that “an unhindered chain reaction occurs around the globe,” a condition ecological insofar as it forces a complete recalibration of space and time—which is to say the environments of dwelling and commerce—for every body (and animal and object) connected to the flows of interactivity.

Virilio's analysis of the rise and spread of optoelectronic technologies figures as a sort of media archaeology of the past half century: television remote control, low-orbit satellite, surveillance drone, videogames, internet, etc.—all demand a certain interactivity that allows messages to travel in multiple directions (contra a one-way broadcast model). When speeds of information transfer accelerate beyond certain thresholds or when vast volumes of data demand ready analysis, however, pressure mounts on cognitive attention spans to perpetuate electronic discourse, shrinking response times to reflex times at the expense of measured reflection. The logistics of perception take a qualitative turn and cede to automated systems. Though Virilio describes the Integral Accident as “an accident which is no longer local and precisely situated, but global and generalized,” we witness its global connectivity and accelerated, automated decision-making become manifest in systemic accidents such as the notorious Black Monday stock market crash of 1987.

These speeds compose not only the material body in its relation to the world, but also the psychic makeup of any individual whose imagined representations are born of lived movement: one's mental picture of Paris, for example, will be much different having walked the city on foot rather than driven in a car. Once we are describing the globalized real-time speed of electronic communication the psychic condition becomes a hyperaccelerated blur (what Kittler might refer to as “eyewash”) that permits no time for sustained reflection. Rather, we become collectively responsive to affects, whether the “joys” of everyday consumption or the numbing traumas of everyday news. Brian Massumi, for example, suggests that with the 2011 Fukushima nuclear disaster we have become psychically raw with trauma, as globalized interconnectivity spreads trauma much further than would otherwise be possible with the local accident. While the earthquake, tsunami and failed nuclear reactor have had very significant catastrophic effects on a localized basis in Japan, the trauma has radiated worldwide with the ubiquity of electronic communications, and that there is perhaps a “half-life” of decay to the affective tone it spreads on this global basis. In this we get a vivid example of Virilio's dictum that interactivity is to the information bomb what radioactivity is to the nuclear bomb.

Bomb as Accident-Weapon

But what to make of Virilio’s choice of the term “bomb” (also in the original French, which reads “la bombe informatique”)? Does this deference to the Integral Accident that is the information bomb not absolve or obscure the elements of intent and agency that foster the design and execution of what we would traditionally consider to be bomb-like? Certainly Virilio does not intend to eliminate intent, but in his articulation of “accident-weapons” the logic becomes a little fuzzy, and so the remainder of this entry will simultaneously attempt to make sense of his words while suggesting original interpretations of the accident-weapon.

While there are certainly naturally-occurring processes that morphogenetically potentiate themselves in the exponential power of the explosion (volcanic eruptions, etc.), the linguistic choice of the term “bomb” implies a modern technoscientific (and decidedly human) agency at work—in other words, the explicit attempt to control and weaponize the accident laying dormant within the science. A bomb is created to be detonated, even if ultimately this detonation remains in potential, as with the case of nuclear “deterrence” scenarios. In this sense, the information bomb becomes a question of design woven together with the complex threads of contingency.

It is important to note that, for Virilio, the accident-weapon is less concerned with the destruction of concrete substances, as with more traditional mortar artillery. Rather, it is moreso meant to be productive, specifically producing the simulacrum of an accident. He offers the example of the graphite bomb, detonated in Serbia during the Kosovo War, which was designed to create an electromagnetic pulse that would render telecommunication capacity inoperable while leaving everything else relatively intact. For Virilio, the Integral Accident of the exploding information bomb is such that the bomb-as-accident-weapon would be indistinguishable from the local accident of an electrical blackout.

Jean Baudrillard's postmodern read of the World Trade Center post-September 11, 2001 views the twin towers under the semiotic of closure: representative of American-style neoliberal capitalism, each turned only to face the other unchallenged on the Manhattan skyline. But the introduction of cameras to this assemblage irrevocably pried the closure open to new intensities and vectors of significance. Indeed, it is precisely because of this dual nature that we can speak of an information bomb rather than simply an event which had been archived. Once the camera is introduced to the architectural form—and most in the 9/11 audience had never seen the World Trade Center in person—any such semiotic closure is opened anew, dromologically-speaking, by the instant replay. The caveat here is that the visual dynamics were reversed: instead of a mediated replay serving to illustrate the preceding live event, we had an anterior replay of a plane hitting a building better preparing us to witness the live event of the second plane making explosive contact. The local accident (“did that plane just hit the tower by mistake?”) shifted to a more globalized accident (Virilio reports many TV viewers who believed they were watching a disaster movie until flipping channels to see the same images on every station), which shifted to the dawning horror of the reality of the terrorist attack.

It was the slowness of the planes that made them a particularly useful weapon that day. As opposed to the truck bombs used at the World Trade Center in 1993, which exploded so fast that television was only able to capture the damage done, the slowness of the airliners on 9/11 allowed one to position a personal videocamera in time to view the plane striking the tower—in other words, to witness the actual event taking place. It was only at this point of supercritical mass that speed accelerated to the absolute real-time of the kinematic image, the nuclear-style information detonation delivering an experience far more tactile and visceral than seeing the rubble after the fact.

Just as we opened our discussion with Einstein’s hypothesis of three bombs (nuclear, information and population), we close with a hypothesis of multiple potential information bombs and their differing shockwaves of interactivity: within the overarching detonation of the Integral Accident, an accident-weapon resembling a nuclear blast and perhaps others, such as the contagion-style transmissions of computer viruses. While Virilio has (perhaps fairly) been accused of retaining threads of an antiquated humanism in his analysis of contemporary society, his explicit focus on questions of tempo and underlying concern with responsibility remains relevant for emerging ecological thinking, even as these brave new networks threaten to accelerate beyond our control.



Baudrillard, Jean. The Spirit of Terrorism. Translated by Chris Turner. London: Verso, 2002.

Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Translated by Brian Massumi. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1987.

Kittler, Friedrich. Gramophone, Film, Typewriter. Translated by Geoffrey Winthrop-Young and Michael Wutz. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999.

Massumi, Brian. “The Half-Life of Disaster.” The Guardian (London, UK), Apr. 15, 2011. http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/apr/15/half-life-of-disaster.

Parikka, Jussi. Digital Contagions: A Media Archaeology of Computer Viruses. New York: Peter Lang, 2007.

Sherman, Tom. Before and After the I-Bomb: An Artist in the Information Environment. Edited by Peggy Gale. Banff, AB: Banff Centre Press, 2002.

Virilio, Paul, and John Armitage. “The Kosovo War Took Place in Orbital Space,” in Life in the Wires: The CTheory Reader, edited by Arthur Kroker and Marilouise Kroker, 126-134. Victoria, BC: New World Perspectives, 2004.

Virilio, Paul, and Sylvère Lotringer. Crepuscular Dawn. Translated by Mike Taormina. New York: Semiotext(e), 2002.

Virilio, Paul, and Sylvère Lotringer. Pure War. Translated by Mark Polizzotti. New York: Semiotext(e), 1983.

Virilio, Paul, Friedrich Kittler and John Armitage. “The Information Bomb: A Conversation.” Angelaki 4, no.2 (1999): 81-90.

Virilio, Paul. Desert Screen: War at the Speed of Light. Translated by Michael Degener. London: Continuum, 2002.

Virilio, Paul. Grey Ecology. Translated by Drew Burk. Edited by Hubertus von Amelunxen. New York: Atropos Press, 2009.

Virilio, Paul. Ground Zero. Translated by Chris Turner. London: Verso, 2002.

Virilio, Paul. Lost Dimension. Translated by Daniel Moshenberg. Los Angeles: Semiotext(e), 1991.

Virilio, Paul. Open Sky. Translated by Julie Rose. London: Verso, 1997.

Virilio, Paul. Speed and Politics: An Essay on Dromology. Translated by Mark Polizzotti. New York: Semiotext(e), 1986.

Virilio, Paul. The Information Bomb. Translated by Chris Turner. London: Verso, 2000.

Anamorphosis, Stereoreality and the Correct Gaze

On each of the baselines of the basketball court at the Air Canada Centre this season lies an oddly designed painted emblem. It is quite difficult to determine exactly what these emblems represent — that is, until they are seen from the perspective of the wide-angle camera lens on television. They appear to be lengthy three-dimensional sandwich boards, with the Raptors name emblazoned in red letters on a black background.


While the technique is new in North American professional sport, it has existed for years on football, cricket and rugby pitches around the world to expand a certain value proposition for corporate sponsors by rearranging the perceptual field of play. But the technique is even older than that: its proper name is perspectival anamorphosis, and its earliest usage dates back to paintings of the early Renaissance period.

Perspectival anamorphosis is a technique of producing a distorted projection, which requires the viewer to occupy a specific vantage point to reconstitute the image. With Hans Holbein's famous work The Ambassadors, for example, one must put one's eye at an acute angle to the bottom-left of the canvas, looking diagonally upward to reveal the skull that had been placed front and centre. According to the wikipedia entry, anamorphosis "made it possible to diffuse caricatures, erotic and scatologic scenes and scenes of sorcery for a confidential public" — sort of what we describe today as easter eggs, essentially, or hidden openings in the skin of a text.

Holbein - The Ambassadors

Hans Holbein the Younger
The Ambassadors
oil on oak (with anamorphic detail on right)

One can imagine these anamorphic paintings fostering techniques of looking, of searching for irregularities in the tapestry of pigment and texture, of approaching the flat plane from variable distances and angles, of spending time with the work — and perhaps locating a hidden sign, an inside joke, or a covert message that would open new, polyvocal understandings within the text at hand. A samizdat of whispers to disseminate this approximate set of Euclidean grid coordinates: x and y on the canvas, the z of focal distance, and a vectorial gaze to complete the message.

Approximate coordinates: this will get you close, figure the rest out yourself.

Those who are in the know and those who perceive matters at a more surface level.

Sporting Empire resuscitates perspectival anamorphosis in a different fashion, more or less subversive depending on one's relationship to capital. The primary difference lies in the addition of a television camera to the assemblage of visibility. Technology itself is not new for anamorphosis as process: mirrors have been used for centuries to create certain effects that would lift the distorted image off the flat plane of inscription. But now the mirrors have been swallowed whole by the camera apparatus, then partially digested to form bits of reflection that transmit the image far and wide. A televisual anamorphosis that admits the possibility for movement — but only by the camera.

There is no longer a samizdat of whispers suggesting the approximate location of the anamorphic image. The correct gaze is already calibrated to the wide-angle camera shot that forms the dominant perspective from which one watches a basketball game on television, Holbein's skull replaced by the corporate brand of tribal affiliation in a networked attention economy. Or, if we are discussing those football, cricket and rugby matches broadcast elsewhere in the world, replaced by the logo of a corporate sponsor.

Put differently, the easter eggs have been metaphorically scrambled so that a more crystal clear signal may be delivered to the consumers at home.

"Those absent from the stadium are always right," Virilio was fond of saying, and the anamorphic Raptors image along the baseline merely confirms this proposition for most in attendance, who must certainly be growing more aware of their role as privileged television extras. The image makes no visual sense otherwise for this majority, but then again its function is less to see the game than to feel its unfolding as part of the crowd.

Why the anamorphic figure of a sandwich board? Why not a simple rectangle? This purportedly volumetric figure does not create perspective, but rather kills perspective — or at least attempts a sort of Euclidean nesting proposition in which one three-dimensional space (the stadium) is translated within the parameters of another (the television and its screen). One could be forgiven for thinking that those at home aren't in on the secret, though, and we must pretend the stadium still offers the most "authentic" experience of the game.

Meanwhile, capital closes off those holey spaces consonant with a program of skin tectonics.

FoolBand (or a Note on Metabolic Vehicles)


Wired Playbook:

Nike’s got a new gadget that tracks all that exertion and motivates you to get more active by turning your workout, and everyday activities, into a game with a reward called NikeFuel.

FuelBand is a wristband that records data collected by an accelerometer. It tracks calories expended, steps taken and the time of day as well as your NikeFuel score and presents it on an LED display. Your score is based on an algorithm that assigns points to various movements. The more active you are, the more NikeFuel you earn. You can earn it doing just about anything, track your progress with your iPhone or iPad and eventually share it with others via social media platforms.

“[FuelBand] is a common measurement across a wide spectrum of activity,” says Trevor Edwards, a Nike VP.

. . .

Activities are measured the same way for everyone, regardless of how many calories are burned, says Glen Gaesser, an exercise and wellness professor at Arizona State University who worked with Nike to develop FuelBand. He says 30 college-aged men and women performed various everyday movements in his lab. Each activity took eight minutes, followed by a brief rest, during a 90-minute workout. Participants wore a FuelBand along with a portable metabolic measurement system that tracked their oxygen uptake breath-by-breath. Nike engineers used the data to develop the proprietary algorithms that track accelerometer data accompanying each uptake of oxygen. That forged a relationship between physical movements and oxygen data in which each activity has a recognized accelerometry pattern.

Unlike calories, which vary depending upon gender and weight, NikeFuel holds a common score for each type of activity. Algorithms for some movements aren’t always 100 percent accurate, but Gaesser says it shouldn’t affect the FuelBand’s overall effectiveness.


* * *


Paul Virilio, Speed and Politics, p.94:

"The invader's performance resembles that of his athletic counterpart, of those olympic champions whose records first progressed by hours, then by minutes, then by seconds, then by fractions of seconds. The better they performed (the more rapid they became), the more pitiful were the advances they obtained, until they could only be noticed electronically. One day the champion will disappear in the limits of his own record, as is already suggested by the biological manipulation of which he is the object, and which resembles the methods of artificial medical survival granted the terminally ill. For the dromomaniac the engine is also a prosthesis of survival. It is remarkable that the first automobiles, Joseph Cugnot's military trolley of 1771, for example, were steam-powered, already situating themselves at the limit of the animal body's metempsychosis, relay of historical evolution: the limit of the passage from the metabolic vehicle to the technological vehicle, spilling its smoke like a last breath, a final symbolic manifestation of the motor-power of living bodies."


* * *


Only the situation has folded in upon itself: as the champion disappears into the limits of his own record, so too does an entire economy of record-production begin to show the cracks of its own implosion. Similarly, the economy of athletic celebrity proves to be straining at the boundaries of sustainability, and the fuel that bursts these stars into the sky only to therein be captured as sources of nuclear-interactive potential is no longer sufficient as an energetic solution for the demands of cognitive capitalism and its tyranny of exhaustion (cf. Bifo).

Sole. Soul. Solar. Virilio demands an ecological approach that fully understands technological culture and not simply its biological substratum. But Nike is already there, shifting from celebrity plutonium to a more diversified and distributed energetic approach in which score resumes its superiority over image, the cellular Everyman with his FuelBand still miles away from pitiful athletic advances and thus ripe for athletic endcolonialism writ softly as ambient informatics and performance exchange rates.

Sold: the situation has folded in upon itself, fuel is produced after the fact, and the metabolic vehicle driving around in fresh Nikes is not quite dead either, exhausted though it may be.

Three Simulations

Logistics of Perception

(a dreamyface skin-film extravitanza)

Players and coaching staffs are getting ready for the big football game. With two weeks to prepare for their opponents, each team performs various breakdown drills to hone skill execution, but also diagrams and walks through the playbook of the other team — on both offense and defense. These walk-throughs are then sped up to more closely approximate game conditions: if Team X shows they plan to do this, then we plan to do that. All visual intelligence is gleaned from a central repository of film accumulated and distributed centrally by the league office. Call it Foucauldian simulation: a surveillant, disciplinary regime put into practice as a microphysics of the athletic body and a composition of relatively interchangeable forces called the team.

Coaching staffs are getting ready for the big football game. These are hierarchical regimes, with a head coach at the pinnacle of offensive and defensive coordinators, positional coaches, video assistants, et cetera. Information must flow through this hierarchy to make decisions during the heat of the game that will be relayed via headset to the key offensive and defensive players on the field (usually the quarterback and linebacker), but it does not reside solely in the expertise of the pinnacle figure. Some of this information is gleaned from layered database archives of video, searchable by situation and tendency: if it is third down and short yardage (0-3 yards), Team X runs this play 62% of the time. No longer is the image simply an image, but rather an image+text complex, with metadata blurring any singular punctum into a constellation of queried abstractions. Call it Baudrillardian simulation: a statistical reportage of prior dividuated tactics, put into practice contextually as a feedforward loop that contextually optimizes and (re)produces the newly emerging.

The host television network is getting ready for the big football game. Since this event is the epitome of sporting spectacle, every possible effort must be made to anticipate precisely how the game will unfold, so as to best present a telesthesic experience for those watching the broadcast from home. A high school team is taught the plays of both teams and brought to the super stadium for mock game action (the TV network, too, has done its video homework). Producers are better able to determine camera angles for specific and possible situations: if Team X runs an out pattern to the sideline, cameras 4, 6 and 12 will have it covered. The question here is one of exposure: not only does the TV viewer at home receive the benefit of assuming multiple perspectives of the game (vis-a-vis the spectator at the stadium who only receives one), but the truth of the game proper will almost certainly at some point lie in the instant replay footage provided by the broadcaster. Call it Virilian simulation: an arrangement of the logistics of perception, put into practice as strategies for organizing the visualization of space at accelerated speeds, both for spectacle and as "nonpartisan" justice.

Each helps to understand Deleuzian control societies, particularly within topologies of temporary enclosure.