To understand exactly how access to designer drugs has changed—to see exactly how easy it is to commission, purchase and import powerful new compounds that are beyond the reach of the law—I decided to get one made myself. I chose to focus on the Beatles’ drug, phenmetrazine: a nod to the cultural significance of Prellies and their illustrious user base. How easy would it be to get a legal version made? What procedures would it take, what roadblocks would be put in the way?
I phoned a contact with expertise in chemistry and asked if he could think of a simple molecular tweak that would produce a new version of phenmetrazine that would be totally legal. Yes, he said. The change would be trivial. What might its effects be? 'A fantastic anorectic if you want to lose weight, and an effective stimulant.' The search began for a laboratory that would make a one-off sample."
"We like to think of ourselves as somehow apart from all this information. We are real — the information is merely about us. But what is it that is real? What would be left of you if someone took away all your numbers, cards, accounts, dossiers and other informational prostheses? Information is not just about you — it also constitutes who you are.
We understandably do not want to see ourselves as bits and bytes. But unless we begin conceptualizing ourselves in this way, we leave it to others to do it for us. Many government agencies and giant corporations are all too eager to continue the work of producing detailed data profiles of all of us. These profiles may be produced for varying purposes (targeting terrorists is not the same work as targeting consumers), but they all involve informational pictures of who we are — as well as who we can become. These agencies and corporations will continue producing new visions of you and me, and they will do so without our input if we remain stubbornly attached to antiquated conceptions of selfhood that keep us from admitting how informational we already are.
We need a concept of infopolitics precisely because we have become infopersons. What should we do about our Internet and phone patterns’ being fastidiously harvested and stored away in remote databanks where they await inspection by future algorithms developed at the National Security Agency, Facebook, credit reporting firms like Experian and other new institutions of information and control that will come into existence in future decades? What bits of the informational you will fall under scrutiny? The political you? The sexual you? What next-generation McCarthyisms await your informational self?"
"It stars Christoph Waltz as an 'eccentric and reclusive computer genius' named Qohen who is tasked with figuring out whether the title equation -- which supposedly proves the meaninglessness of existence -- is actually correct.
As you can see from the trailer, poor Qohen gets more than he bargained for in the process as he falls for a mysterious and seductve young woman (Melanie Thierry) while also being thrust into a surreal and very Gilliam-esque world where reality just seems to melt away."
"The special power that Kazemi brings to this mission is what he and others call 'procedural literacy': Like most computer programmers, he can see past the surface of the digital tools in our lives, and figure out the automated mechanisms by which they’re making decisions on our behalf. ('Darius kind of sees the matrix a little bit,' Dubbin says.) And while he resists being cast as some kind of activist, Kazemi does see his work as a way to expose the mechanics of automation by putting it front and center in surprising new ways—'sort of an attempt to educate people,' he says, 'and prompt them to do some of that thinking on their own.'