World Wide Web. A world wide. So vast that one can lose oneself.
Sure, there are free ports of blogs and social networks, friendships, skype, the maps, but offers nothing away from that terrible flood caused by informational flood.
About within the network? I mean ... assume that appearance when we sail? Where we are in reality, when we move?
think that a part of me can be thrown in such a short time thousands of miles away is something slightly disturbing my sense of integrity.
why I chose a comparison. Not to answer, but to rub together two distant realities, in the hope that their Scottish bait at least a spark of awareness.
We move mostly in a unknown place, so full of offal to be desert, devoid of logic paths and an oasis of prefabricated sense.
network - the network that we cages, the network on which you jump, the network that allows us to draw new reports, which brings us to another interface like a game of tennis - has lost the characteristics of the domestic dimension : it has become quite a huge gypsy camp each day on which, like the early settlers of the moon, we must plant our flag.
happens then, in an attempt to cosmizzare this wild territory, to be thrown to the periphery of the ice makes sense, outside the play of colors and outside the ' elastic, rigid and silenced by fear of losing control over the world that a moment first appeared was our friend.
E 'in times like these, times when you drag the flood beyond the network, you can take your fragmented, your transparency, be your fantasy before the World Wide Web How
cross the new ? How to protect yourself from the inevitable whirlwind whirlwind that comes with it? The 'environment under Our feet are so changeable , our identity is at risk so I have to ask if there are still a warrior Excalibur, Lord of the ring, or a cover-wool Linux able to empower us and guide us in the ravines dream of cyberspace. The
Achilpa , a tribe of Australian Aranda, provide us with perhaps the most relevant parallel this feeling of sperdutezza in an unknown space, chaotic.
According to their mythology, a god called Numbakula "cosmizzò" their territory and established their own institutions.
With the trunk of a gum tree built Numbakula then a sacred pole, climbed up into the sky and disappeared.
This post represents the cosmic axis, is in fact that the land around it becomes a living and becomes a "world". His ritual role, therefore, is considerable. The Achilpa if you carry around in their migration and decide which direction to take depending on your inclination.
This enables them, despite continuous movements, is always in "their world" and to remain at the same time in communication with the sky in which Numbakula disappeared.
When the mast is broken and the disaster it is in a sense "the end of the world", a regression into chaos. Spencer and Gillen reported a legend that the entire tribe fell in anguish because the pole was broken. After wandering at random for some time, eventually the members sat on the floor and left to die.
This is an excellent example of the need to have a reference point in the desert, either physical or cognitive.
Achilpa For the "world" becomes "their world" only to the extent that reproduces the cosmos organized and sanctified by Numbakula. Without this axis vertical which provides an opening to the transcendent and at the same time allows the orientation in space, they can not live. In other words, you can not live in "chaos." Once stopped contact with the transcendent and destroyed the system orientation there is no longer possible. The Achilpa let themselves die.Mircea Eliade
A stake . Just a post to warn against the paralyzing phobias that inspires scary over them as a threat: these people are in danger of disappearing as presence in front of the new, psychic presence, certainly, but also body.
Perhaps the pole Achilpa (Kauwa-auwa) derived from the trunk of a young gum tree decorated and conveniently, can be the consideration of our Apple, the result of more accurate design, or our blog, embroidered by layout logos and gaudy as so evanescent?
bad enough, these transitional objects loved ones, to take the tight mesh of a pilgrim I like ours, or we will die, crushed by the heavy disorder of the network?
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