anon_j_anon (anon_j_anon) wrote,

Panopticon, 20-

Title: Panopticon
Author: jAnon
Disclaimer: This is mine.
Wordcount: 10 by 100



Sometimes I feel like a fraud.

As if someone will come up to me and laugh.  I will stand while they bend over, arms folded into stomach, choking with the sheer force of laughter.  Then they will straighten and point.  Index finger.  Point and with that finger, strip me.

“You are not.  You are NOT!” howl in triumph.

Horror.  Mask ripped.  Everyone knows that I am not.

I will beg.  Dignity forgotten, I will get on my knees and plead with them to let me be.  Let me exist.

No mercy.  They will smile and withhold.

“You have no right.”


You have no right.

All your base are belong to us.

You. have. No. right.

This is all in your head.

What am I doing?  What the fuck am I doing?

Escape escape, fear and falling.

Fraud fraud fraud fake underneath it is all is nothing.

We own you.

All your base are belong to us.

Hacked into you exploited a weakness.

Turned you into a bot.

You don’t even know you’re infected.

All your base are belong to us.

Infected and infecting others.

Wreak havoc exploit explore gutted wide open.

Can’t fight us.

Can’t fight.  We’re part of you.







Get out of my head.  Get out of my head.  Get OUT of my HEAD.







I am.  I am who I want to be, I breathe, I think, I am.  I am free so get out.  This is my realm, these are my words, you have no power here.







Shut up.  Shut up.  I’m going to win this.  You will disappear because I will it.  We’re fighting on my territory.  I have home field advantage.




It doesn’t matter.

We are fighting you me ourselves.  Already won/lost.


Constructed identities, characters that give you deniability.

In the grand scheme of human accomplishment, it means nothing.  The microcosm macrocosm does not matter and all returns to darkness.  From this reality one constructs arguments that support both sides.

Victory does not matter, so give in to defeat.  Defeat does not matter, so strive for victory.

What does the Panopticon in mind or matter signify, when time erases it all and in the end, even the watcher will be forgotten?

Is anyone watching except ourselves?  Does anyone care if we are trapped by the trap we are trapping?

Compare to ants.


I'm Nobody! (with a capital N, what the fuck is that exclamation point?)
Who are you? (silence)
Are you (are you?)
– Nobody – (cyber cyber)
too? (http:http:http:www-www-www)
Then there's a pair of us? (it might be your echo.)
Don't tell! they'd advertise (twittering their nobody-ness)
– you know! (I know.)

How dreary (wonderful terrible)
– to be – (to be)
Somebody! (with a capital S, that exclamation point)
How public (alluring daunting)
– like a Frog – (ugly croaking through the tweets)
To tell one's name (IP address, username, password, status update)
– the livelong June – (every two minutes)
To an admiring (vicious hungry faceless nameless)



see see

exist exist

free free

strikethrough strikethrough

negate negate

There are more states than binary.

While sitting and compelled to write, what are others doing?  Sitting and compelled to __ __?

get through the day, eat, sleep, go to meetings, be productive, pretend to be productive, produce, consume, apply to jobs, meet with friends, go on vacation, build a family, get through the day

fight wars, code programs, make decisions, lead nations, write theories, invest capital

ingest digest throw up eat swallow metabolize shit

become become

be be

becoming becoming

What is the context of this?  Where do we live live?


Happiness.  Surprisingly, it is possible in the Panopticon, in a demented way.  Despite the divide, the common experience of Panopticon can unite.

And strangely, one finds that pure freedom has its limits.  Uncensored by watchers, the free create their own filters through the market.  They organize to watch themselves.

Free to say do be anything you want.  Doesn’t mean anyone will listen recognize acknowledge.


Rules follow, hound you.  Yearning for freedom, only to find that others abhor it.  Too daunting, too unstructured, dangerous, chaotic.  Mandate order.  It is written into society.

Free to do anything, they rebuild the Panopticon.


Is it necessary?

Is society necessary?

Cannot man be an island?

If I want to be an island...

Leave me alone Let me in Let me be Let me join

Me You Us Them Nobody Somebody

The goddamn capitalizations.

Aware of the laws upon laws, rules governing rules, edicts and orders.

Is it all in my head?

Marx thought we could spontaneously rid ourselves of the market and produce what we wanted.  That it would naturally meet all needs.  Hand waving and magic, applicable in small systems but failing otherwise.

Irony.  I can speak, you can read, because of markets.


Intersections.  Economic social political scientific technologic history philosophy theory above and us below.  The feeling that all of time has culminated to one point, to this moment, to a single existence, to produce I.

We are the gods of our universe.

Invert the triangle.  The sense that i is nothing but a point of data, a quantum of energy, lying along Gaussian distribution, contributing to the chaos of an unfathomably large system whose laws we model but cannot pin down, atoms colliding at random and we have no control.

We are the puppets, never completely sure if there are strings.


Systems within systems within systems, markets trading words ascribing values.  Arbitrary.

Information bought and sold and there is no bargaining.  The price is set.  By the market.  By the mob.  By democracy.  Depending on viewpoint.

Exchange one prison for another.  Exchange the ubiquitous watch of the watcher for the anonymous eye of Argos.  Argos, epithet Panoptes.

At the center of it all are not individuals, but objects.  Objects looking at objects, objects objecting, objectifying, objective.

Who the hell said that numbers took away subjectivity?  Who’s fucking brilliant idea was it that multiplicity makes prisons impartial?

A prison. Is. a Prison.


Tags: writing

  • The Gospel According to Alejandro, pt. 2

    Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; And ye shall know the…

  • The Gospel According to Alejandro, pt. 1

    But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father…

  • pt 2

    These double lives we lead Converge. Unravel like thread caught on a train Rushing into the station Naked on 96 waiting for the transfer Yarn…

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded