"
“Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules.”
“Yes, sir. I know it is. I know it.”
Game, my ass. Some game. If you get on the side where all the hot-shots are, then it’s a game, all right — I’ll admit that. But if you get on the other side, where there aren’t any hot-shots, then what’s a game about it? Nothing. No game.
"
— The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Tradicionalmente han existido dos tipos de objetos: consumibles y herramientas. Mientras los consumibles, como la comida, no podían volver a usarse una vez cumplían su fin, las herramientas eran diseñadas para poder ser arregladas y perfeccionadas, de tal manera que pudiéramos maximizar su uso y estas fueran heredadas a través de generaciones.
Pero llegó la sociedad de consumo. Las herramientas pasaron a ser objetos consumibles, objetos con un número limitado de usos que pronto quedan obsoletos o se estropean. La basura se acumula en interminables vertederos tecnológicos mientras las necesidades creadas no hacen más que proliferar entre las sociedades occidentales. Las herramientas ya no cumplen un fin mediante su uso, son un fin en si mismas.
El objetivo no es crear una herramienta para cumplir un fin, es crear un fin para una nueva herramienta que pronto se desechará.
Quiero un móvil nuevo.
"An android doesn’t care what happens to another android. That’s one of the indications we look for."
—
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick
"Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends."
— J.R.R. Tolkien
"
“My schedule for today lists a six-hour self-accusatory depression,” Iran said.
“What? Why did you schedule that?” It defeated the whole purpose of the mood organ. “I didn’t even know you could set it for that,” he said gloomily.
"
— Philip K. Dick, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
"We all know the story. Virginal girl, pure and sweet, trapped in the body of a swan. She desires freedom but only true love can break the spell. Her wish is nearly granted in the form of a prince, but before he can declare his love her lustful twin, the black swan, tricks and seduces him. Devastated the white swan leaps of a cliff killing herself and, in death, finds freedom."
— Black Swan (2010)
"Breakfast is the only meal of the day that I tend to view with the same kind of traditionalized reverence that most people associate with Lunch and Dinner. I like to eat breakfast alone, and almost never before noon; anybody with a terminally jangled lifestyle needs at least one psychic anchor every twenty-four hours, and mine is breakfast. In Hong Kong, Dallas or at home — and regardless of whether or not I have been to bed — breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess. The food factor should always be massive: four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned beef hash with diced chiles, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of Key lime pie, two margaritas, and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert… Right, and there should also be two or three newspapers, all mail and messages, a telephone, a notebook for planning the next twenty-four hours and at least one source of good music… All of which should be dealt with outside, in the warmth of a hot sun, and preferably stone naked."
—
Hunter S. Thompson, via Tom’s Things
(Source: hall0weenjack)
"(…) I realised that our entire society is a network of safety nets: emergency services at the end of a phone line; health and safety in workplaces; friends; family; lovers. All there, if something goes wrong, part of a carefully designed structure to prevent all but the most mundane of emotions."
— Penumbra: Overture (2007)
