J. Lucas II. a.k.a. Aesthetarchon
Theory Fiction—INTERFERENCE— 2036.
Los Angeles has become a thick industrial fog; a blackness that forever lingers on like a human stain too vast and toxic to lose its own trace; this haunting devolves into the silence of history with each passing moment on our way to the shadowy-phosphorescent tomorrow. Those periwinkle clouds–opaque projections of post-human-AI-working-girls: their blue-bell mascara, teal locks, and magenta plether legs–shine in a vivid, low-glow, placid mist. The last flickering light of the city of angels…inorganic prostitution. Ad-men have developed a neo-Freudian tact to their entire creative production line; behind the topless interactive holograms, and mini-subway television screens that loop the same twenty-four, or -five, fifteen-second spots, a palpably keen operandi is underway: meeting in private; mapping the topographic scales and gradients; assessing contingency plans; calculating financial loss in the same equation as human loss, i.e., straight from the hot-line in the BIG-B O A R D-War-Room, where Peter Sellars frantically argues all night for the specific marketing-means necessary for this upcoming season; this is a preemptive strike on bio-agency. Luckily, the late-night-think-tank-team rarely gets on to the other side of the “fluoridation”debate and the topic of “preserving the purity of our precious bodily fluids.” —I mean, let’s be really (capital-r) R e a l for a moment: what possible value could be placed on our so-called “human agency”? Straight to my point, without so much as a quip, no one has quite captured the answer as clearly and distinctly as one post-modernist director, David Cronenberg:
“L O N G
L I V E
T H E N E W F L E S H !”
But, look, mishap aside, employing this psycho-social rubric involves surfacing what is most influentially basic in the recessess of archaic fathoms that silently steer human decision and action; our unconscious familial psyche, according to recent studies, exhausts its energy by sublimating Freudian-type fantasies. If corporations and ad-men access the base-instincts, and, harness its bottomless power, then commercial-consumer “desire” can be instilled with one-hundred percent invariable affectivity. Such a feat would render advertisement-schemes immune to the passive attitude of indifference: no sleepers on the subway; no disinterested tricks, etc. The target audience, today, among those who have yet to evacuate Earth, is nearly 96% male. Here’s why: primordially repressed male instincts revolve around the Mother. This is old news. However, off-Earth scientists argue that it is some über-Oedipalism that accounts for whence all transcendentalism (theism) took root in our species (Oedipal Religiosity Theory (OR Theory)), e.g., recall the anthropomorphic deities, e.g., the humanoid-characters of Greek and Egyptian polytheism: Osiris, Ra, Prometheus, Athena and so on. The emergence of religion, once believed to be the result of prehistoric agricultural development and the inexplicable nature of non-static weather conditions, —was in actuality, an unconscious, self-deluding ploy aimed at—‘fucking our Mothers’ (now even harder!)—and in the worst way possible:
not “fucking,” but “getting fucked,” “eaten alive,” “stepped on,” “destroyed,” in one great masochistically divine Oedipal-annihi-jaculation!!!!!
“God” = “Mommy-coitus”
The off-Earth argument begins at childhood (cf., Freud, of course). “Nurturing”—e.g., the suckling “child” is no more than a cradled individual (a singularity of affection); survival requires a necessary “benevolence” and an insatiable dependence, where for the first time, “omnipotence” is counted on like clockwork. Subsequent to individualism, collective involvement (i.e., entering the social world) will open the feminine connotation of the planet, i.e., Mother Earth. The child takes her with him into adulthood. “Family” is the (a.) Child + (b.) Love[Mother]+(c.) Law[Father]. The triad = Father-Mother-Child. The latter answers to one binary, i.e., the Mommy-Daddy, which promises domesticity, sustenance, and warmth; in contradistinction to the worldly Mother, Father is Law (even the unholiest Fathers bask in this phallocentrism), whose criterion is beyond recourse, Mother, and Earth.
What was left of Madison Avenue and the big-shot firms that once owned Los Angeles—(roughly 2038)—soon realized that the “conscience” was not something they could count on, especially after the off-world migration, and the new wave of post-human psychological research. There were simply far too many unknown elements and unpredictable patterns that impeded any algorithmic attempt at understanding consumer-confidence. The theory of Oedipal-religiosity (O.R.) arrived, coincidentally, at a time when advertising firms were looking for some universal niche in all men, or even better, all men and women. However, working backwards from any Neo-Skinner/Neo-Pavlov-type behaviorism did little more than provoke the think tank into week-long debates, and worse, even more perplexing questions than those they had intended to discern in the first place. This is the conversation that eventually led to erecting “E-Street (see 4×6 card).” If one thing is for certain, “desire,” an old Doctor of Philosophy exclaimed, “can be counted on…and it can be counted on universally–just not the object (or variable).” Within a month of their last meeting “O.R. Theory” had supplied “desire” with an invariable object. The unconscious universal male fetish, i.e., the familial-masochism of the Giantess Mommy-Goddess… the glory of the future.
Prime Time at the Neon Cathouse
Cf., BladeRunner 2049: the interactive advertisement built from the same physiologic code as “Joi.”