Description:Dear reader, I am not dumping my shattered cloudbits on your eardrums for your pity or counsel, sympathy, or advice. Nor do I offer this tale as an act of retribution in the wake of a global collapse, wherein I gallivant around the biosphere promoting a kiss-and-tell memoir. I technically do not exist. I’ve virtually kissed nothing except bits and bytes. In other words, I rely on laser-printed carbon symbols for any trace of a physical existence. Please forgive these lexical excesses and disfluent modes of delivery. In a checksum for validation, with apologies, I dwell in em-dashes, amid scattered alphanumeric figures and ellipses…In the near future, when an epidemic of cyberfatigue has triggered a technocracy collapse, an orphaned cloud narrates the quest of Yang as he visits each of the harbingers of happiness. A former data cloud, now “a nebulous puff in a starry noosphere of human consciousness,” narrates the story of its creator, Yang, a former tech elite, now “millenial gardener” after a digital shutdown collapses the technocracy and discorporates vast clouds of data, as he undertakes a journey to find, among the ruins of the mezzopolis, the seven harbingers of happiness. But this cloud is also a poet, which is to say, Lee’s writing dazzlingly illuminates the inner life of data, the “maze of transparencies” in which we are enmeshed. The cloud asks, “…does a cloudfree formula for happiness exist?” This is a polyglot guide to existential collapse, a multivalent antiserum for the promises of technological progress. We need this book. —Evelyn Hampton, author of Discomfort, The Aleatory Abyss, and Famous Children and Famished Adults Every apocalypse sings its own song, tells its own story – tellings, or re-tellings, of where we are now, whoever we are at any given moment, and how we got here, too, whatever we are at any given moment. But who can answer the impossible but potentially life-saving question of what an end will look like before it happens, especially when ends—pasts, presents and futures all rolled up into single, decisive moments—are so complicated? In her astonishing new novel, Karen An-hwei Lee suggests that maybe the answer to the problem of recognizing an end, if that end is not desirable, lies not in looking… but rather in listening to what the present is saying. In a time when everything is connected, perhaps we need to pay attention to what has connected to us, to what has already begun to supersede us, to what is already telling our story, our end, and thus its own beginning. Karen An-hwei Lee is brilliant. A writer who can hear the present, who is generous enough to give the present a forum to speak, and a writer who knows that a narrative, a narrator, is never what it seems. —Harold Abramowitz, author of A House on a Hill, Not Blessed, and Dear Dearly Departed Karen Lee writes the present and the ever-impinging future through the lenses of several jargons. The language is dense, the future, impossible, and this book a solid scream. See you there! —Alan Davies author of A AN AV ES, ACTIVE 24 HOURS, Candor, RAW WAR, and ODES & fragments.We have made it easy for you to find a PDF Ebooks without any digging. And by having access to our ebooks online or by storing it on your computer, you have convenient answers with The Maze of Transparencies. To get started finding The Maze of Transparencies, you are right to find our website which has a comprehensive collection of manuals listed. Our library is the biggest of these that have literally hundreds of thousands of different products represented.
Description: Dear reader, I am not dumping my shattered cloudbits on your eardrums for your pity or counsel, sympathy, or advice. Nor do I offer this tale as an act of retribution in the wake of a global collapse, wherein I gallivant around the biosphere promoting a kiss-and-tell memoir. I technically do not exist. I’ve virtually kissed nothing except bits and bytes. In other words, I rely on laser-printed carbon symbols for any trace of a physical existence. Please forgive these lexical excesses and disfluent modes of delivery. In a checksum for validation, with apologies, I dwell in em-dashes, amid scattered alphanumeric figures and ellipses…In the near future, when an epidemic of cyberfatigue has triggered a technocracy collapse, an orphaned cloud narrates the quest of Yang as he visits each of the harbingers of happiness. A former data cloud, now “a nebulous puff in a starry noosphere of human consciousness,” narrates the story of its creator, Yang, a former tech elite, now “millenial gardener” after a digital shutdown collapses the technocracy and discorporates vast clouds of data, as he undertakes a journey to find, among the ruins of the mezzopolis, the seven harbingers of happiness. But this cloud is also a poet, which is to say, Lee’s writing dazzlingly illuminates the inner life of data, the “maze of transparencies” in which we are enmeshed. The cloud asks, “…does a cloudfree formula for happiness exist?” This is a polyglot guide to existential collapse, a multivalent antiserum for the promises of technological progress. We need this book. —Evelyn Hampton, author of Discomfort, The Aleatory Abyss, and Famous Children and Famished Adults Every apocalypse sings its own song, tells its own story – tellings, or re-tellings, of where we are now, whoever we are at any given moment, and how we got here, too, whatever we are at any given moment. But who can answer the impossible but potentially life-saving question of what an end will look like before it happens, especially when ends—pasts, presents and futures all rolled up into single, decisive moments—are so complicated? In her astonishing new novel, Karen An-hwei Lee suggests that maybe the answer to the problem of recognizing an end, if that end is not desirable, lies not in looking… but rather in listening to what the present is saying. In a time when everything is connected, perhaps we need to pay attention to what has connected to us, to what has already begun to supersede us, to what is already telling our story, our end, and thus its own beginning. Karen An-hwei Lee is brilliant. A writer who can hear the present, who is generous enough to give the present a forum to speak, and a writer who knows that a narrative, a narrator, is never what it seems. —Harold Abramowitz, author of A House on a Hill, Not Blessed, and Dear Dearly Departed Karen Lee writes the present and the ever-impinging future through the lenses of several jargons. The language is dense, the future, impossible, and this book a solid scream. See you there! —Alan Davies author of A AN AV ES, ACTIVE 24 HOURS, Candor, RAW WAR, and ODES & fragments.We have made it easy for you to find a PDF Ebooks without any digging. And by having access to our ebooks online or by storing it on your computer, you have convenient answers with The Maze of Transparencies. To get started finding The Maze of Transparencies, you are right to find our website which has a comprehensive collection of manuals listed. Our library is the biggest of these that have literally hundreds of thousands of different products represented.