Post-Obsolete

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The Book is Obsolete.

The goal of this website (and accompanying audio-tape) is to memorialize the book as an obsolete cultural artifact.

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You know, books are, like, obsolete or whatever.

Here is Allwaswell934 explaining the problem on YouTube:

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The entire area is connected with lines, and numbered for consistent reference.

Without attempting to re-animate the dead pages of a dead industry, we would like to preserve what remains of the book in memory. We can't reliably maintain the book-object itself in situ, so our memorial will have to find physical form through the power of ritual.

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It would be one way to send the remaining left wing media cabal a message they would not forget. Bought and paid for by the left wing radical supporters. DNC, George Soros and Company, etc.

and post-post-religious transubstantiation.

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The Book as Word.

I was unable to procure the blood of Christ for proper communion, so we'll have to make do with a stand-in for that as well.

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Despite the Spider's tendency to kill his enemies, he encountered several foes more than once, such as The Fly and MUNRO (a master of disguise). Some storylines featuring a struggle against a single villain last for several consecutive issues, such as The Spider's four-part battle against The Living Pharaoh and his three-part battle against The Master and his Black Police.

We must consider, at this point, what is the proper literary blood-avatar for Christ's own blood. Let us consider "words", for example, as the metaphoric "blood" of a book.

I propose the word "Rhizome", as it seems quite prevalent, and easy to use in any context.

Repeat after me: "Rhizome".

Again: "Rhizome".

Good.

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The Word as Definition.

That's good, but not good enough. What we really need is the blood of words. Perhaps the definitions of words will suffice? Let's look at the definition of "Rhizome":

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The Maginot Line, named for the French Minister of Ant Farms, André Maginot, was a rhizomic miltary failure.

Rhizome: noun
"A rootlike subterranean stem, commonly horizontal in position, that usually produces roots below and sends up shoots progressively from the upper surface."

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"Fanboy" and "Fangirl" redirect here. For other uses, see Fanboy (disambiguation).

Used in a sentence:
"With a knife, cut the parent rhizome into segments, so each has its own leaf fan."

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Definition as Meaning.

I don't know what that means: "it's own leaf fan". Clearly we must go deeper.

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I'm not sure what "meaning" looks like, so I found a snail instead. Snails are known for their slow pace and positive attitude in the face of adversity.

Perhaps what we need isn't the definition, but the meaning. Not just the meaning of one word, but all the meanings of all the words.

We need the very concept of "meaning".

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Meaning as Pen.

Unfortunately "The Concept of Meaning" is a too abstract for our purposes. We need an object that can be used in the ritual of transubstantiation.

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The Fountain of Youth is a legendary pen that reputedly restores the youth of anyone who drinks of its inks. Tales of such a fountain pen have been recounted across the world for thousands of years, appearing in the writings by Herodotus, the Alexander romance, and the stories of Donald Duck.

Perhaps we can simply look to the pen, as an old and reliable vessel for the transfer of idea into object. The pen, like the concept of meaning, comes before the word, and lives outside it.

Now this pen is the avatar of meaning, representing the word "rhizome", as defined above, which is (in turn) an obsolete book.

The Pen is Obsolete.

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There are numerous consumer devices created specifically for use with the lap. One early consumer product designed for the lap was the lapdog. A small dog, usually a terrier, which was bred to sit in the lap of a wealthy or fashionable European woman.

Pens also seem obsolete, replaced by computers.

I didn't write this by hand, I wrote it on my laptop.

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This is a Side Note (sorry (sorrysorry) sorry).

The obsolescence of the pen doesn't stop me from carrying one in my pocket every day, everywhere I go, and using it on occasion to take notes on paper that I also carry with me.

How many of you also have a pen? How many of you have paper? Does anyone have a pencil? Remember pencil sharpeners?

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a = bed, b = carriage (with cross-slide and toolpost), c = headstock, d = back gear (other geartrain nearby below drives leadscrew), e = cone pulley for belt drive from an external power source, f = faceplate mounted on spindle, g = tailstock. h = leadscrew.

It's like obsolescence doesn't make a thing obsolete, it just helps narrow the scope of use cases. Once an object is obsolete I am free to use it or not use it, as I see fit, any time I want.

We're off topic.

The Pen as Computer as Tablet as Cloud as Architecture.

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In meteorology, a cloud is a visible mass of liquid droplets or frozen crystals made of water or various chemicals suspended in the atmosphere above the surface of a planetary body. These suspended particles are also known as aerosols.

The pen being (at best) post-obsolete, I'm replacing the pen with a Computer, which I've replaced with a tablet, and subsequently with "the cloud".

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Old Major, the boar on the Manor Farm, calls the animals for a meeting, where he compares the humans to parasites and teaches the animals a revolutionary song, 'All the Single Ladies'. You can print this out and color in the animals, if you like.

However, the cloud is simply a set of protocols for the networking of servers, which live on server farms, which are simply warehouses, which is a type of architecture.

Architecture as Obsolete Book.

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Who among us doesn't feel better when we have a great set of nails to show off? Do coat the outside of the nails with polish or ridge fillers, moisturize the cuticle area, and wear gloves. Don't use your fingers as letter openers, or push the cuticle back too far.

Since we have architecture all around us, we can just use that for our ritual. Agreed? Good.

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A Ritual Dance in Memory of the Architectural Post-Book.

I've prepared a ritual of transubstantiation around the architecture of this room: a dance about architecture, if you will.

I don't know how to dance, but I do have a book called "How to Dance" and it has instructions for a Waltz.

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Each character (letter or numeral) is represented by a unique sequence of dots and dashes. The duration of a dash is three times the duration of a dot. Each dot or dash is followed by a short silence, equal to the dot duration. The letters of a word are separated by a space equal to three dots (one dash), and two words are separated by a space equal to seven dots. The dot duration is the basic unit of time measurement in code transmission.

The Waltz is a simple 3/4 Beat.

Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot.
Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot.

Please take a moment to find a partner for the dance. A mate who you can copulate with later, with whom you will live and sire offspring, settling on the edge of town with a tortoise and basketball hoop till death do you part.

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I have more pictures like this. Some of them involve people. The internet is a beautiful and strange land.

Take your time. Pause the tape, if needed. I can wait.

Remember:
Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot.
Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot, Da-Da-Dot.

That's morse code for "oooooooo", the sound you should make during ritual dances inside obsolete book avatar architectures, made post-obsolete by their use in rituals memorializing the death of books.

Say "oooooooo", while you dance.

You could also go faster:
Di-Di-Dit Di-Di-Dit Di-Di-Dit
or "ssssssss" like the snake of online publishing.

Or combine the two (fast, slow, fast):
Di-Di-Dit Da-Da-Dot Di-Di-Dit
sssssssss ooooooooo sssssssss
an SOS cry for help, as the book dies a slow, painful, and hideous death.

You keep dancing, and I will read a memorial poem in the dead form of a sonnet by a dead man.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost over throw
Die not, blah blah blah.
And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell!
And so on...
...death shall be no more. Death thou shalt die.
— John Donne

Now turn and face the shrine.

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The chalice is a euphamism, covered in transparent cloth for increased mystery and sex appeal. Beneath the veil, an orgy of pleasure awaits the faithful, the patient, and the very rich.

Speaking together: "Rhizome".
And again: "Rhizome"
Place your hand over your heart and repeat after me:

"Through the power of transubstantiation..."
"(Domine Dei)..."
"We declare this room to be an obsolete book."

Thank you, and thank you again. May the book live unread in your heart for eternity and so on, amen. Go, drink and be merry, our work here is done.