“Este foi um ataque a pessoas LGBT, um ataque homo-bi-transfóbico. É, portanto, um crime de ódio, e o crime de ódio tem, nos Estados Unidos, como em Portugal e em tantos outros países do mundo, um enquadramento legal específico. Porquê? Porque a motivação do crime não nasce nem morre com a organização ou indivíduo criminoso, correspondendo a um fenómeno de preconceito que se revela nos maiores, mas também nos mais aparentemente insignificantes actos de violência. Porque ele é dirigido a quem já sente o ódio no seu dia-a-dia. Porque ele se integra num ciclo de violência e de discriminação que é permanente: nos gestos e nas palavras, nas famílias e nas escolas, no trabalho, na doença e na rua. Porque ele afecta as pessoas que não foram mortalmente vitimadas como em nenhum outro crime: incute-nos o medo, inibe o exercício da nossa liberdade, aumenta um terror que conhecemos bem, afecta-nos a todos e a todas que pertencemos ao grupo social ao qual é dirigido o ataque. Porque “‘terrorismo direccionado a pessoas LGBT’ é uma redundância” por si só.”

“Toward a New Urban Corporality

The city, the ultimate artificial habitat, amplifies the other, more intimate habitat-the one encased in skin. But those who truly want to absorb the city around them must learn to become urban bodies. An urban body does not move as it would in the countryside or on a moun­tain, or even as it would in a city other than its own. Every city enthralls  its own bodies and ensnares them in its movement matrix. It brings them into step with its own rhythms. Thus Barcelona bodies are fundamentally different from Paris or New York ones. In a new city, by erasing prior codes, people acquire the freedom to become another instantly, to adopt another body. Anonymity is reflexive, and this new body is a stranger, even to oneself. Time, space, and walking—a great deal of walking—are  needed to make a new city one’s own, complete with its own character and corporality, because people need to take on new codes to remake  their bodies in the new city’s image.

Body Mobility Put to the Sensorial Test

A corporal merger with the city involves, then, giving the body meaning-a meaning that can only be dynamic. In the first instance, mobility gives rise to an interface through which the resident and the city can interpenetrate one another. The city’s signification emerges through the movements that constantly reconstitute this relationship, allowing residents to link their body to the city’s in a form of true urban participa­tion: subtle glances, bumps, avoidance, missed meetings, near certainties, and happy accidents. Countless movements occur within the city. Meeting places, public spaces, and focal points are the stage for daily life, all places where the private body is revealed, acting anonymously and yet made public, a body that is solely one’s own but put on display for all eyes. A body that, in presenting itself to others, reflects its own image in their gaze.

Indeed, the urban body is above all a visual entity. Imaged and idealized, this portrait of the city includes only its appearance. Its body-the part to be sensed by taste, smell, touch-is erased. Of the city’s living flesh there remains only its iconic character, whose symbols no longer refer­ence urban texture but only its reflection.

The auditory body, to the extent that it can be represented through a voice on a mobile phone, or through an iPod, remains within the domain of imagination and fantasy. This body, carried on sound waves, is not as it is imagined, and encountering it allows sight to supersede hearing. The jarring superimposition of perceptual inferences· does not always make it easy to recalibrate the imagination.

The most ubiquitous of all bodies is the commuter. This body is made of silences, jerky motions, crossing paths, movements captured in a passerby’s ephemeral glimpse, or even daydreams, for example when leaning against a vehicle window while waiting for a light to change or while travelling by subway, bus, or tram. Alive with sudden transitions, it exists at the level of travellers’ half-sleep, in a state of suspension between origin and destination.”

Excerto de The Pedestrian as Urban Actor de Sonia Lavadinho, parte do livro Actions: What Can You Do With the City (2008)

A Second World: Communicating with aliens as parallel realms collide in the former Yugoslavia

A Second World: Communicating with aliens as parallel realms collide in the former Yugoslavia

“Like many millennials, Lena Dunham is no longer on Twitter. (…) Essentially, she was sick of dealing with trolls. Dunham will continue to compose tweets, but the interactions will now be managed by staff. As more and more celebrities entrust their employees with the responsibility of their 140 characters or less (or their square Instagram photos, or their pithy Facebook posts), ordinary young people everywhere are also deleting their accounts across all platforms. So, after ten solid years of the overwhelming socialisation of our lives, why are millennials and Gen Z net natives fleeing the social space?

(…)

Another user, who maintains a Facebook account as a way to manage events but tries not to engage with it beyond that, adds, “I’m definitely a much happier guy overall when I’m not browsing through my friends’ pages or reading their latest posts on my feed.” This particular user elaborates on the culture of jealousy and envy spawned by these “networking” websites. “What started as a way to keep in touch slowly became this magnificent highlight reel of the seemingly perfect lives that they were living,” writes DividedBy_Zero. “The front page was loaded with pics of engagement rings, newborn babies, exotic travels, nights out and marathons ran. Then without thinking about it, you start comparing your life to theirs; you begin wondering where you went wrong while everyone else is living their dreams. Facebook just became this unintentional pit of despair and self-loathing, and the deeper I went in, the worse I felt coming out.”

(…)

So why are people opting out of social media? For Generation Z (the oldest of whom are age 19), one big reason is an increased desire for privacy. According to The New York Times,Gen Z-ers are more aware of their digital footprint, and don’t want to get photographed in compromising positions without their knowledge or permission. They’re not the only ones craving a bit of anonymity in the era of overexposure. Céline designer Phoebe Philo was quoted as saying, “The chicest thing is when you don’t exist on Google. God, I would love to be that person!”

I think we all knew it was coming. The gratification and thrill associated with social media has substantially faded as too many images and voices vie for attention, causing what feels like thousands of attention-hungry children speaking over one another, simultaneously saying everything and nothing. A lawless clusterfuck. Sure, many of us still scroll through our feeds on auto-pilot, mindlessly double tapping photos of cacti, skimming heartful captions while feeling nothing. But, overall, we’re withdrawing from social media in favor of decluttering and clearing our heads, seeking out meaningful and authentic connections, and forgoing the dime-a-dozen opinions of others in favor of experts. Enough of “pics or it didn’t happen."”

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