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Technology: the year it was | Technique



The changes of the year make me nostalgic. It would be because I’m a woman in the middle of the week, half of the academic year. Or it will be due to my fundamental inability to vibrate with great social events. Many items already known not to be fulfilled are still a metaphor for our frustrated inventories by default and by design. Instead of feeling renewed for the new year, I feel invaded by wistful reflection. and this lack of enthusiasm makes me look more miserable than utopian which the year which has just begun suggests.

This summer, well, the summer that it was, I rented a van, like Thelma and Louise With a friend, but without a wad, pick up a chest of drawers from my grandmother. Five hundred kilometers one way and the same number back because of a childhood memory with its consequent carbon emissions. On that trip I discovered, in addition to the fact that driving without a central rear-view mirror is dangerous, that the Castilla fields in Machado became an outsider’s night shot Blade Runner: Hundreds of solar panels are already floating in the eternal shadow under their heavy lead color. I don’t know if they were really there the year before, revealed only to me by the distinct rise of being an amateur airline, or if they were the result of the renewable energy boom and the outrageous price of electricity. The truth is that I had, like any other French Marie, a terrifying and prophetic vision of a land overcast and surrounded by metal. Again, a short-sighted human who trusts savings technology to continue watching bullshit on mobile at the cost of tiling it to the ceiling is a stifling nature indeed. A trip to the Cadiz coast did not improve my mood. At Záhara de los Atunes, you can choose between looking out to sea, to those blessed beaches, or turning your head a bit and enjoying a collection of gigantic wind turbines. We colonized Earth to have a cold beer. We have put these atrocities out of our field of vision because we need them now, now, without delay, in a land belonging to another for which we do not care because we have enough of our troubles to make ends meet. Bestas and Alcarrás are also great films that reveal this tension between a rural world, somewhat hopeless, and its colonization to cater to people who don’t like ringing church bells when they go away for the weekend. field.

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Despite the fact that we all know that the present is unsustainable, we rule out the possibility of this thought with the same gesture of looking away when a beggar reaches out to us at a traffic light. We are as confident that it will turn green because we are confident that the techno-feudal lords will come to our rescue with some very ingenious solution that does not make us change any of our habits or make us make uncomfortable decisions in the interest of the greater good. We are our own prejudices and archetypes, “the stories we tell ourselves from the beginning of time to survive, especially when we face an existential crisis” as Marta Pierano points out in her seminal essay against the future. “But, like all mechanisms born of trauma, they are maladaptive, strategies that do us no good from an evolutionary point of view,” says Pierano when referring to those technological solutions born from the will of a single male that are salvific in the face of collapse. From Noah’s Ark, as a solution to the global flood, to Mask’s Unlikely Colonies on Mars, as a solution to an uninhabitable Earth. If we look at either example and read the small print text, it’s easy to conclude that neither Noah nor Elon depend on us for their epic story of salvation.

I think Pirano’s skepticism towards these tech feudal lords and their testosterone solutions is more than justified. About a year ago around this time, antigen tests were a luxury product and the media was full of mind-blowing articles about the latest movie produced by the Netflix algorithm, Don’t Look Up. This medium has devoted many media, opinion and scientific articles to this phenomenon. In this work, which no one remembers anymore, a technologist with socialization problems offers a solution that fails as little more than a ground gun to stop the meteor hanging over Leonardo DiCaprio’s head. We’ve all seen Elon Musk as a failed millionaire on the run. A year later, this newspaper devoted countless pages and a lot of energy to broadcasting its incompetence in running a social network in real time. His erroneous Twitter headline filled us with disbelief and, why not say it, gave us great moments of banter. It’s hard to imagine Musk, having seen the seams, being the right person to ensure humanity’s survival when he can’t afford toilet paper to wipe his workers’ asses.

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But archetypes are here to stay. This year that ended also brought us the sad fate of a DART fulfillment that “blew itself up” for us like Jesus Christ was crucified. NASA’s Office of Planetary Protection recorded something that not even Bruce Willis was able to do: DART colliding with an asteroid to avoid its hypothetical collision with Earth. DART puts me in the uncomfortable position of having to accept heroism, even knowing that there might be an idiot in the controls who is unable to predict that the damage it prevents is far less than what it causes. Perhaps I’d rather stay with the only certainty I have before 2023: that I won’t be killed by an asteroid. happy year.

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