ESTETICA PROTESICA

ON THE TRANSFORMATION OF NATURE INTO MEGA PROTHESIS

Nature. For several thousands of years, we have been looking for cosmic refuge, where we have fled from the maddening noise of human-to-human things, from the atrocities and the obscenities of history, from the vanity and emptiness of life, from tyrannies, from prisons, from regimes, from the hells, and from our own stupidity. We’ve almost reached the zero.

ZERO INTENSITY

A megalo-prothesis is the accumulation of zeros and the total amount, is also zero. The zero intensity bursts to the surface. In this utopian medium of "Nature" as a megalo-prothesis, both vision and belief, both intensity-plus and intensity-minus are destroyed. The shadow of the megalo-prothesis falls over the living experience.

The megalo-prothesis, like a haze of viruses, that is coming into this natural object in my present living, and in the proximity of my body, turning it into a colony of viruses of language.

First, nature is transformed into a solid mass; each of its objects or societies are ex-territorialised and are expatriated from their place which is defined by the order of transcendence.

And it is not important that, in the era of utopia, nature is transformed into a pure raw material, a depository of energy and mass. What is important and fatal is that the fate of the language of the false simulators are imposed on nature, and prosthetics are installed in the interiors of natural things.

What is now called "Nature" is really just a gigantic prothesis, in itself made up of a million micro-prothesis.

The Sun is becoming a factory for "thermonuclear reactions", a factory for hydrogen and helium configurations, a mass of electrons, protons and other "elementary particles".

The Sun is turning into a bag of degraded matrix of languages.

It is no longer in the sky of my daily life; it is no longer in the sunrises and sunsets, it is no longer in any part of the world's reality at all.

The Sun becomes a utopian X, which draws an invisible trajectory. It is no longer even the Sun that protects the life of the world or the life of utopian.

Wherever he goes, wherever he turns, the utopian encounters the man, but he cannot find himself anywhere, and he no longer can recognise himself in the Other and in the being of the Other. And in no longer finding himself in the Other, the utopian loses both himself and the Other.

This is the ultimate loss that drives man into a nihilistic desert where the dominant aesthetics of the prothesis is one of absolute insensibility, and of insensitivity. The desert where there is no feeling.

Like the garden of the prothesis...

The work is divided into chapters, or fragments, which move through the different levels of a contemporary reality.