Exegesis : DEATH STATEMENT : GRITCULT is dead. Go to the profile of GRITCULT. GRITCULT. Jan 25 I reg

Exegesis : DEATH STATEMENT : GRITCULT is dead.

📷GRITCULT.Jan 25

I regret to inform you that GRITCULT is dead. You need to know that I have prepared this document in the eventual death of the entity known as “GRITCULT”. Whatever it was, has perished. There is nothing to bury.

📷Gravestone for GRITCULT.

Reading this, you put yourself at risk of dying. Death, is happening this instant, to someone somewhere. By the time you finish reading this, many more will cease to exist. Are you dead? Unused lives are early deaths. Knowing this, are you dead? If unsatisfied in eternal recurrence, stop. Or like many, be haunted by phantasms of unfulfilled dreams?

A new frontier, Cyber-Death.

The age of meta-modernity is bound by the ether that is cyberspace. Death may not always exist. However, in this cyber age, virtual back ups of our online selves, data imprints, seem immutable. Have we invented a heaven on earth?

A change in username. A change in avatar. U.I. updates disorient and scatter our animal wetware. Loss of a mutual is like losing a lifelong friend. The dissonance mirrors what occurs in meat-space. The cyber emulation of identity has lead to the cyber emulation of death. A cyber-death is a iterative death. To fulfil cyber-death means to change. Change begets chaos and growth.

Cyberspace is constantly reinventing, reiterating and regurgitating like the eternal ouroboros that it is. Styles change, mediums change. I cannot let my cyberspace mirror be stagnant, stale. For staleness leads to rot and decay. It is through disorder, one becomes anti-fragile, and each iteration an evolution.

Digital Death Masks.

Identity is nebulous, not only spatially dependent but temporally too. Notions of self and being, are products of their own history. Here the ideas evaporate into a cloud-like non-entity of a meme, you cannot touch it, clinch it. A lens, a skin, a collection of fractal masks and time frame iterations.

You will live as long as your masks are stored. Each iteration of that mask, a mirror for that time and space. Backing up your “self” or cyber imprint, up to the cloud. A part of you imprinted existing, backed up, in perpetuity. To live in time frame iterations is to live in the moment, for infinity.

Masks are designed to evolve, with you, at the cybernetic helm. Each mask a meme, and each layer a new abstraction. Digital masks are cultivated and tended to, like gardens. Masks are malleable. Masks are shed and masks are used, for a specific role, specific platform or specific place.

No “ONE”, is reading this. Writing this, I am not myself, but a mask. All is a mirror, all mirrors can be cultivated into reflecting the desired mask. How do you unweave this strange loop of masks and mirrors? You cannot, for as you stare into it, it stares into you. You can use this innen-welt, this inner world, to cultivate a better fractal garden of masks. The um-welt effects the innenwelt, and vice versa. Adopt this fully, and see what happens when you kill your masks.

A Temporary Death for cyber souls.

Testing death itself, allows one to reiterate and refine the experience of death, as a whole. it allows renewal and constant rebirth. The new eternal recurrence is the backing up of our cyber masks. Perhaps like Plato, Montaigne and the stoics these meditations are practice for the “real” death. Pursuing a temporary death; so that my “real” death, may be pleasant.

Temporary deaths allow me to mentally de-clutter, offload cognitive RAM, and reconsider deleting that, which I in my dying moments would not give a shit about. It allows me to realign values, beliefs, my north star. It helps me in asking and answering questions which keep me focused on my eventual death.

Going forward onto death and chaos. We can manipulate, optimise and cultivate the feedback loops, the mirror and ultimately, the masks. This is an over-ritualised practice, but allows us to cultivate a death sense, a death awareness, and the notion of beta testing cyber death.

Death intrigues me, my death, our death. Death is an end, in some regards. A yielding to the chaos of the unknown in the optimistic and Faustian hopes of new beginnings, of new encounters.

In ending.

I have found death shunned in the world. Everyone plugged in, those plugged in retreating from death. The natural response is to recoil at the words used. This is programming. Pre-exegesis, is an extrapolation of future work, of future hauntologies. Who is to say I won’t be haunted by lost futures.

This is my memento mori. I have not written much, but what better way to start by starting with death. Death is a tool. The meme behind death can also be used as a tool. It can be cultivated, but it requires you to go towards it, towards death.

MORS CERTA, VITA INCERTA.

GRITCULT IS DEAD.

LONG LIVE, GRITCULT.

You could have watched and listened to this essay on YouTube.

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