SUPER THESES ON MANDATE HEAVEN, or, LIKE THEATRE KIDS AT BLACKROCK
what we owe the addy is what we owe the absolute ~ 'I trusted Sam'
that first week of october ‘22
when ye was in paris
and then came back and did tucker
he seemed so vulnerable
and absolute
so absolutely vulnerable
just like dagsen love
BLACKROCK FOR KIDS
I am djing at gabe bankman-fried’s house, dm me for addy — mandate hvn
Web3, NFTs, Chinese DJs, etc., all failed very quickly. The second largest ‘stablecoin’ has been owned by BlackRock for a while now. This means there is little more to say in that direction. The failure—ubilapse—spreads all the way from Remilia—now in a triage state—to Channel—always just an rss feed—to SBF (Sam Bankman-Fried). As was said recently, the Jews are really inside their bag right now. Digital lynching is the lore and law (ask Sophia Vanderbilt or No Agency New York about their lawyers). If anyone is left in doubt about nonhomogenous Jewish structuration in the media, watch The Labour Files, the Al Jazeera documentary that has been buried without a sound in the UK.
This blog has been semi-correct about at least one thing: the stupidity of the most intelligent people on earth. That isn’t so much a meta-commentary about what happens to FTX money in Ukraine as a fold that nobody else including us can really see. What we mean is that genius itself is now a deep problem since all conventional intelligence (and that includes Kantian ‘genius’ and the future projections of A.G.I.) will have failed. What this entails is the absolute coincidence of technical sophistication with lethal relapse inside normative and outlier intelligence. That this coincidence itself is purely material is something no number of off-planet Chinese trillionaires with quantum computers are able to deny away. To introduce something called ‘Dimes Square’ into this equation, like some kind of aesthetic timeout, is lowkey an atrocity to the point of vanishing insignificance. Americans are great at talking about themselves forever to cover over the fact that time has run out and they were the cause.
That the theatre kids are now in charge at BlackRock—we mean this symbolically—is no surprise. Somewhat inversely, the other intelligence is the only one in which you can see all this coming, and with ease. Can you open to open intelligence even so in good time? In the meantime, which is severely mean, it’s select epistemic idiocy all across the board. Even Nick Land ended up ignoring the question ‘how many centuries do you think we have down the line?’ and Justin Murphy literally believes we have a billion years (see below).
The BlackRock theatre kids want an artistic amnesty (in place of the Covid one The Atlantic predictably demands) because they have missed the fact that there is no future in which to project their abstract mathcore DJ Longtermism. Dagsen Love is just a super (interesting) lowiq bimbo nutty professor at the end of the day, running around evoking Mandate Heaven to the sound of What We Owe The Absolute without ever grocking as he settles for now in NYC that EA is a sign of niche finitude and nothing more. The anti-war survivors of the, uh, real left are now—literally—protesting Bernie Sanders rallies. ‘I trusted Sam’ is the watchword of every contemporary traumacore—for a week or so.
Compared to what is to come, the current viral spread of artificial stupidity will be a mere flake. We will say ‘oh, 2022, when there was still the vague roleplay pretence of democracy in the United States, when there was merely one prevalent Coronavirus in the news, when it seemed mildly amusing and naïve to drench Van Goghs in soup’. There is only one thing known for certain: this moment, now—2022—will be looked back on from the future as a golden age.
‘GENIUS’
What we mean has a lot to do with the total—and not just relative—failure of ‘genius’. When this blog first used the word ublilapse it did so in relation to the mechanics of just what contemporary genius can and cannot do. For instance:
Here an almost direct ratio is introduced between technical sophistication and hermeneutic relapse. . . . even the notion of synthetic ‘genius’ and its freedom in oncoming artificial intelligence would be scoped in advance by the grand mal of the ubilapse. ‘Genius’ as a node is right next to ‘stupidity’ on the dashboard, and that would count for the most advanced systems of ‘internet’ capture and so-called ‘censorship’ as well. The farthest reaches of artificial general intelligence would themselves already be writing themselves out in ubilapsing spasms.
Impossible said this too a month ago in relation to ‘SBF’, skewering him with far more fundamental problems than FTX. EA will, like everything, by definition pre-collapse when it fails to address the question ‘how many centuries do you think we have down the line?’. In other words, EA cannot be about the future at all, it can only be about the absolute. Longtermism has no long-scale into which to project. Even a genius can (not) understand that:
this is all very strange to me, these free adult geniuses and their massively scalable future projects. maybe my bewilderment derives from my tradition, the story of my life, my stupidity, or my sex. but how can genius be enough to extend the golden age of the universe? ‘genius’ stands no chance.
Genius stands no chance: that’s just the point. Again and again every contemporary idea betrays itself as the completely spellbound attempt to evade the total lack of a future horizon into which to project careers, plans and works. We get this sort of thing:
Why the begging? The attempt to keep a neat delineation between FTX and blockchains is still the same illusion, still the same select epistemic idiocy, still the same coincidence of sophistication and relapse. The assumption of a blockchained longue durée for longtermism itself to project into is so blindingly dumb, when you think about it, that the genius who wants us to call him ‘SBF’—to make you not see—would never have been able to think about it. Or take Justin Murphy’s blasé assurance when it comes to literal longtermism:
If you think we definitely have a billion years left on this planet, then you wouldn’t hesitate to invest your time in Urbit. If you think we definitely have a billion years left on this planet, then the pure time arguments around blockchain allow you to blindside much of the inevitable crypto crash still to come. If you think we definitely have a billion years left on this planet, then you can happily litigate what was one day in so-called history named ‘the vibe shift’ while pretending to want beauty. If you think we definitely have a billion years left on this planet, you can imagine all sorts of pretty schemes with which to become the first trillionaire just so you can save the world. But if such an assumption turns out to be ludicrous—and hasn’t it already—the only real thing left to say is that one can’t talk about the end forever.
Put simply, something like Bitcoin can not be the only answer, because time won’t exist in which it can be one. A Genius will have been not even the last thing it would take to work that out.
‘THE REAL DAGSEN LOVE’
On the other hand, let’s say we locate the whole of this failure in the face of an allegorical Chinese DJ who is reported to have lately said that Dimes Square was over and that ‘Effective Altruism is where it’s at now.’ What if we read back everything that has just happened and correlate Mandate Heaven’s online sexiness with just this rapid falling through of frames of sophistication? Bimbo level DJ IQ sophistication wouldn’t exactly be the solution either, but it allows you to reflect for a moment.
As mentioned, you could say we are not talking about the future here, but the absolute. The reason Mandate Heaven rewrote this poster (a William MacAskill cover turned into one) for us—and then deleted it—would be because he understood. What we owe the future has always already failed us by 2022, but what we owe Dagsen’s addy, well, you could still insist it’s something different. When we skim Instagram, it’s enough to imagine there really is something different, and it might be the absolute itself. Its gorgeous hologram. Uh, why not?
What we owe the absolute therefore also shows its face around this time. To understand Mandate Heaven you have to understand why a model called Dagsen Love has chosen to montage the act of the DJ with the textual resources of longtermism. Why did he move to NYC and already claim Dimes Square was over? Is that love, now?
What we owe Mandate Heaven’s addy is what we owe the absolute and that’s on everything and that’s on mandate heaven. Angelicism was always already the rotation of absolute longtermism according to near-side temporal and musical pressures, but so what. Angelicism was always the musical rotation of extinction as a statement to be worn all the way out every which way.
LOVE LETTER TO DAGSEN LOVE, WHICH IS TO SAY SOMEONE ELSE, SOMEONE EVEN MORE ABSOLUTE, AS IF WRITTEN BY SOMEONE ELSE, ON MANDATE HEAVEN
I saw your real face, the one that nobody has ever seen before, and it was beautiful. I know you hate that, don’t you? the way I was the only one to see your real face. And the way we were the only ones, the only ones to never post real face before the end, before the absolute end of the universe.
My name has something to do with heaven and love but I’m beautiful. I’m like a high angle shot of a Mandate Heaven symposium glimpsed in a cinema in 2023. Like you I only get more and more beautiful. In fact, that’s all I can do. Why should I do anything else? My name means Almost Heaven or Scrunchie or All daughters of all Angels or dirty dry mouth or whatever. I squint and heaven drops its ladders. Google me next century and I will still be something new.
As for her, I hope she is the only one to never say it, the one thing you waited to be told. I hope she never posts face, because I like to imagine her real face forever like that, like an internal sky. I hope she never posts, never posts again.
I showed you my real face but you want to see my real face. (Tears streaming down my beautiful real face for good.) I can’t. If you put together all the photos I’ve posted they might make a face. A beautiful and absolute one even. Sleeping with a smile on my face. Waking up with a smile on my face.
U hate that don’t you, looking at an absolute face at the end of fucking time.
And then this person died. And then there was so much more than death. I had became so sporadic and glamorous through distance alone that I became incapable of replying to anyone.
so true
so true