The world is always breaking So the world is always breaking; it's in its nature to break. Steven J. Jackson, Rethinking Repair melancholydecay
Angkorwatification Applied to a blog, angkorwatification is a sort of textual equivalent of rewilding. You have a base layer of traditional blog posts that is essentially complete in the sense of having created, over time, an idea space with a clear identity, and a more or less deliberately conceived architecture to it. And you have a secondary organic growth layer that is patiently but relentlessly rewilding the first, inorganic one. That second layer also emerges from the mind of the blogger of course, but does so via surrender to brain entropy rather than via writerly intentions disciplining the flow of words. Venkatesh Rao, Ribbonfarm www.ribbonfarm.com writingentropydecay
The web in decay is the web by design An Essay by Chia Amisola chias.blog When will there be a guide to best practices for archiving the web? Will the giants responsible for the platformization of the web make the act of digital archival any easier for us? Is it foolish for platforms like Snapchat or Instagram Stories to brand themselves as “temporary” when temporariness is impossible on our internet? Should the web exist as something organic, malleable, and destructible –– or as an eternal timekeeper? Is link rot more of a technological issue or a human one? Do humans want to know themselves forever? The Internet Is Rotting decaywww
The Internet Is Rotting An Essay by Jonathan Zittrain www.theatlantic.com Too much has been lost already. The glue that holds humanity’s knowledge together is coming undone. Links work seamlessly until they don’t. And as tangible counterparts to online work fade, these gaps represent actual holes in humanity’s knowledge— they represent a comprehensive breakdown in the chain of custody for facts. The web in decay is the web by design wwwhypermediadecayknowledge
Weathering Steel A Material en.wikipedia.org Weathering steel, often referred to by the genericised trademark COR-TEN steel and sometimes written without the hyphen as corten steel, is a group of steel alloys which were developed to eliminate the need for painting, and form a stable rust-like appearance after several years' exposure to weather. The name COR-TEN refers to the two distinguishing properties of this type of steel: corrosion resistance and tensile strength. Dark satanic steelTilted Arc decay
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage A Poem by Lord Byron www.gutenberg.org And thus the heart will breakWords which are thingsThere is a pleasure in the pathless woods lovenaturelonelinessmelancholy
And thus the heart will break They mourn, but smile at length; and, smiling, mourn: The tree will wither long before it fall: The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn; The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the hall In massy hoariness; the ruined wall Stands when its wind-worn battlements are gone; The bars survive the captive they enthral; The day drags through though storms keep out the sun; And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on. SceneryA little act of hope timelovemelancholyi
Words which are things I have not loved the world, nor the world me; I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed To its idolatries a patient knee,— Nor coined my cheek to smiles, nor cried aloud In worship of an echo; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such; I stood Among them, but not of them; in a shroud Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued. I have not loved the world, nor the world me,— But let us part fair foes; I do believe, Though I have found them not, that there may be Words which are things,—hopes which will not deceive, And virtues which are merciful, nor weave Snares for the falling: I would also deem O'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; That two, or one, are almost what they seem,— That goodness is no name, and happiness no dream. solitudegoodness
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more. nature