The Chronotopia of Lesser Dreams

“Good morning.”

“I can’t say that any “morning” is ‘good’, let’s just absolve ourselves of all mornings in mourning.”

—The Chronotopia of Lesser Dreams

In the painting above I imagine a 25th century of posthumanity living in the ruins of Western civilization. Lost among the debris of our late humanity, the children of our post-desire will only morn our disappearance, not because we’ve vanished but because the evil taint of our species lives on in memory. To forget ourselves in our children is not a goal, but a disease. To think at all is to act, and all action is evil. We are that species that produced evil as a generic tool of desire. Desire had its way with us and is now defunct. Posthumanity will no longer desire but will also be absolved of that abulia of inaction. A paradox that cannot be but is. The temptation to think will be their only sin.

In a test-tube world, our neutered progeny will live beyond all desire, born of machinic necessity they will live out their lives knowing that desire and production is pointless. Sensuality and the erotics of posthumanity will be absolved of that taint of childbirth, enabled to live out their lives in pure sensual expression. Knowing that they will not be tempted to produce their own kind in their own image their machinic ai systems will guide them through the years of a negative utopia whose only goal is the semblance of life rather than life itself.