Harmony of Identity
by Giovanna Castillejos, translated by sam smiley
gio.giocastillejos (at) hotmail.com
One synonym of self-identification is memory, that which remains after taking stock of forgetfulness.
Based on this idea, identity is made up of anything recognized as culturally coded, and suitable for any human being as their own.
Therefore, there would not be limits to consider identity as the sum of everything, including expressions such as: signs, languages , alphabets, forms of organization, practices such as yoga, music, food, historical events as the Inquisition, the Holocaust, the beauty of all the arts, the internet, to name a few things.
I have the feeling that the genetic discourse is like a particular notion of selection which fits into an "a priori" concept. And if this concept is the concept of identity, any quest would be limited to exclusion.
This does not feel entirely wrong and I even suggested a concept introduced by Jung's collective unconscious. Bringing it to the line of thought that I am addressing, this is adjusted as follows:
The supposed characteristics that shape identity are perceptible insofar as they are connected by a multiplicity of realities. This would make the characteristics of identity changing and ephemeral. That is, not the "form" which is the identity but "against changing form." The concrete is not what defines identity, if not its relationship to the other: the underlying occult.
A blog of art, science, and literature that explores the question: What is a 'scientific american'?
Friday, May 25, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
(ESP) Concordia de la Identidad
Concordia de la Identidad
de Giovanna Castillejos
gio.giocastillejos (at) hotmail.com
Un sinónimo de la conciencia de identidad lo constituye la memoria, que es lo queda después de hacer balance de los olvidos.
Partiendo de ésta idea, la identidad está conformada de todo aquello reconocida como culturalmente codificada y apropiada por cualquier ser humano como algo suyo.
Por tanto no habría límites para considerar la identidad como la suma de todo e incluir como expresión de eso: signos, lenguajes, alfabetos, formas de organización,
prácticas como el yoga, la música, los alimentos, sucesos históricos como la inquisición, el holocausto nazi, la belleza de todas las artes, el internet, por mencionar algunas cosas del todo.
Tengo la sensación de que el discurso genético es como una noción de selección de particularidades que encajan en un concepto a priori. Y si este concepto fuera la identidad, toda búsqueda estaría reducida a la exclusión.
Lo cual no considero del todo errado e incluso me sugiere un concepto introducido por Jung: el inconsciente colectivo. Que llevándolo a la línea que estoy abordando se ajustaría como sigue:
Las supuestas características que conforman a la identidad son perceptibles en medida en que están conectadas por una multiplicidad de realidades.
Lo que tornaría a las características de la identidad cambiantes y efímeras, es decir, no es la “forma” lo que constituye a la identidad sino la “contra forma cambiante".
No es lo concreto lo que define a la identidad si no su relación con el otro: lo subyacente, lo oculto.
de Giovanna Castillejos
gio.giocastillejos (at) hotmail.com
Un sinónimo de la conciencia de identidad lo constituye la memoria, que es lo queda después de hacer balance de los olvidos.
Partiendo de ésta idea, la identidad está conformada de todo aquello reconocida como culturalmente codificada y apropiada por cualquier ser humano como algo suyo.
Por tanto no habría límites para considerar la identidad como la suma de todo e incluir como expresión de eso: signos, lenguajes, alfabetos, formas de organización,
prácticas como el yoga, la música, los alimentos, sucesos históricos como la inquisición, el holocausto nazi, la belleza de todas las artes, el internet, por mencionar algunas cosas del todo.
Tengo la sensación de que el discurso genético es como una noción de selección de particularidades que encajan en un concepto a priori. Y si este concepto fuera la identidad, toda búsqueda estaría reducida a la exclusión.
Lo cual no considero del todo errado e incluso me sugiere un concepto introducido por Jung: el inconsciente colectivo. Que llevándolo a la línea que estoy abordando se ajustaría como sigue:
Las supuestas características que conforman a la identidad son perceptibles en medida en que están conectadas por una multiplicidad de realidades.
Lo que tornaría a las características de la identidad cambiantes y efímeras, es decir, no es la “forma” lo que constituye a la identidad sino la “contra forma cambiante".
No es lo concreto lo que define a la identidad si no su relación con el otro: lo subyacente, lo oculto.
(ESP y ENG) La genética del conocimiento/Genetics of knowledge
La genética del conocimiento
de Mario Diaz
ingmarioadm (at) yahoo.com.mx
Hoy en día es común escuchar acerca de la importancia de la información, sobre todo como un factor que permite alcanzar el “desarrollo” de cualquier organización o país, en base a la información se toman decisiones y se alcanzan objetivos, que invariablemente representan un valor económico, ya sea un menor gasto o una mayor ganancia,
A medida que tecnologías informáticas y de comunicaciones permiten almacenar, analizar y trasmitir mayores cantidades de datos; la información que representan se vuelve más valiosa y necesita ser protegida. Dependiendo del costo de obtenerla o de las ganancias que pueden significar se decide quién puede acceder a la información, a pesar de que la misma tecnología podría permitir que cualquier persona en cualquier momento pudiera acceder a ella.
Es gracias a la tecnología que ahora se califica a nuestra sociedad como “sociedad de la información”, en tránsito a convertirse en una “sociedad de conocimiento”, buscando constantemente nuevos datos en todas actividades del quehacer humano que puedan ayudar a pronosticar o prevenir situaciones, con lo que se agregue valor a productos o servicios, tanto públicos como privados,
La genética, coincidentemente llena de datos, ha venido a encajar perfectamente en esta sociedad de la información, es vista incluso como el equivalente biológico de la tecnología informática. El ciudadano común y tal vez hasta algunos expertos ven a la ciencia genética como la ciencia de la computación, la genética, como un programa de computo, parecen determinar todo lo referente al ser humano o cualquier organismo: el aspecto físico, la conducta, la enfermedad, la salud, la capacidad o incapacidad de hacer cualquier cosa.
Los datos genéticos son actualmente procesados y almacenados mediante la tecnología informática con la esperanza de conocer todo lo que somos y o que podemos llegar a ser, pero ¿Acaso se lograra que el conocimiento se almacene y procese en forma genética para lograr que el individuo conozca y sea capaz de hacer todo lo que la sociedad del conocimiento necesite de él?
Genetics of knowledge.
by Mario Diaz
ingmarioadm (at) yahoo.com.mx
Today it is common to hear about the importance of information, especially as a factor in achieving the "development" of any organization or country. Based on information, decisions are taken and objectives are achieved, which invariably represent a value economic - either lower costs or higher profits.
As computing and communication technologies store, analyze and transmit larger amounts of data, the represented information becomes more valuable and needs to be protected. Depending on the cost of obtaining the information or the profits from it, that may determine who can access the information, even though the same technology could give access to it.
It is thanks to technology that our society now qualifies as an "information society" in transition to becoming a "knowledge society". Our society is constantly seeking new information on all activities of human endeavor that can help predict or prevent situations , thus adding value to products or services, both public and private.
Genetics, coincidentally filled with data, has come to fit perfectly in this information society and is seen even as the biological equivalent of computer technology. The ordinary citizen, and maybe some experts see the science of genetics as computer science; genetics, like a computer program, seems to determine everything about the human been or any organism: the physical appearance, behavior, disease, health, ability or inability to do anything.
Genetic data is now processed and stored using computer technology with the hope to know everything that we are and what we can become. However, will this be the case that knowledge will be stored and processed in the gene, to make that the individual to know and do what this knowledge society wants from him?
de Mario Diaz
ingmarioadm (at) yahoo.com.mx
Hoy en día es común escuchar acerca de la importancia de la información, sobre todo como un factor que permite alcanzar el “desarrollo” de cualquier organización o país, en base a la información se toman decisiones y se alcanzan objetivos, que invariablemente representan un valor económico, ya sea un menor gasto o una mayor ganancia,
A medida que tecnologías informáticas y de comunicaciones permiten almacenar, analizar y trasmitir mayores cantidades de datos; la información que representan se vuelve más valiosa y necesita ser protegida. Dependiendo del costo de obtenerla o de las ganancias que pueden significar se decide quién puede acceder a la información, a pesar de que la misma tecnología podría permitir que cualquier persona en cualquier momento pudiera acceder a ella.
Es gracias a la tecnología que ahora se califica a nuestra sociedad como “sociedad de la información”, en tránsito a convertirse en una “sociedad de conocimiento”, buscando constantemente nuevos datos en todas actividades del quehacer humano que puedan ayudar a pronosticar o prevenir situaciones, con lo que se agregue valor a productos o servicios, tanto públicos como privados,
La genética, coincidentemente llena de datos, ha venido a encajar perfectamente en esta sociedad de la información, es vista incluso como el equivalente biológico de la tecnología informática. El ciudadano común y tal vez hasta algunos expertos ven a la ciencia genética como la ciencia de la computación, la genética, como un programa de computo, parecen determinar todo lo referente al ser humano o cualquier organismo: el aspecto físico, la conducta, la enfermedad, la salud, la capacidad o incapacidad de hacer cualquier cosa.
Los datos genéticos son actualmente procesados y almacenados mediante la tecnología informática con la esperanza de conocer todo lo que somos y o que podemos llegar a ser, pero ¿Acaso se lograra que el conocimiento se almacene y procese en forma genética para lograr que el individuo conozca y sea capaz de hacer todo lo que la sociedad del conocimiento necesite de él?
Genetics of knowledge.
by Mario Diaz
ingmarioadm (at) yahoo.com.mx
Today it is common to hear about the importance of information, especially as a factor in achieving the "development" of any organization or country. Based on information, decisions are taken and objectives are achieved, which invariably represent a value economic - either lower costs or higher profits.
As computing and communication technologies store, analyze and transmit larger amounts of data, the represented information becomes more valuable and needs to be protected. Depending on the cost of obtaining the information or the profits from it, that may determine who can access the information, even though the same technology could give access to it.
It is thanks to technology that our society now qualifies as an "information society" in transition to becoming a "knowledge society". Our society is constantly seeking new information on all activities of human endeavor that can help predict or prevent situations , thus adding value to products or services, both public and private.
Genetics, coincidentally filled with data, has come to fit perfectly in this information society and is seen even as the biological equivalent of computer technology. The ordinary citizen, and maybe some experts see the science of genetics as computer science; genetics, like a computer program, seems to determine everything about the human been or any organism: the physical appearance, behavior, disease, health, ability or inability to do anything.
Genetic data is now processed and stored using computer technology with the hope to know everything that we are and what we can become. However, will this be the case that knowledge will be stored and processed in the gene, to make that the individual to know and do what this knowledge society wants from him?
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
(ENG y ESP) Geneticarte
During the spring of 2012, media artist and AstroDime member sam smiley is collaborating with the members of an interdisciplinary project called Tránsitos del Centro Nacional de las Artes, coordinated by Ilana Boltnivik and Sandra Gonzales Santos in Mexico City. The objective of this collaboration is to produce meaningful dialogues about art, genetics, and philosophy as well as video works for a DVD compilation called INtransit V.7: Geneticarte. This DVD will be an interdisciplinary and bilingual collection of shorts, experimental documentary, animation centered on the theme of art and genetics.
The following posts for this spring will be reflections generated during the work sessions.
In this post, there are pictures from our first class below.
Durante la primavera del 2012, artista y miembro de AstroDime sam smiley estára colaborando con los miembros del proyecto interdisciplinario Tránsitos del Centro Nacional de las Artes coordinado por Ilana Boltnivik y Sandra González Santos, en D.F., Mexico. El objetivo de esta colaboración es producir diálogos significativos sobre el arte, la genética, y la filosofía así como piesas para el DVD INtransit V.7: Geneticarte. Este DVD será una colección interdisciplinaria bilingüe de pequeños documentales experimentales y piesas de animación, entre otros, centrados en el tema de la genética y arte.
Los siguientes comentarios son las reflexiones generada durante las sessiones de trabajo y las fotos don de nuestra primera sesión de trabjao.
The following posts for this spring will be reflections generated during the work sessions.
In this post, there are pictures from our first class below.
Durante la primavera del 2012, artista y miembro de AstroDime sam smiley estára colaborando con los miembros del proyecto interdisciplinario Tránsitos del Centro Nacional de las Artes coordinado por Ilana Boltnivik y Sandra González Santos, en D.F., Mexico. El objetivo de esta colaboración es producir diálogos significativos sobre el arte, la genética, y la filosofía así como piesas para el DVD INtransit V.7: Geneticarte. Este DVD será una colección interdisciplinaria bilingüe de pequeños documentales experimentales y piesas de animación, entre otros, centrados en el tema de la genética y arte.
Los siguientes comentarios son las reflexiones generada durante las sessiones de trabajo y las fotos don de nuestra primera sesión de trabjao.
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| Planning Lunch with sam, Ilana, and Sandra (POV sam) |
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| sam introduces video exercises |
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| students and collaborators |
 | ||
| Planning |
 | |
| shooting |
Saturday, January 21, 2012
(ENG) Chapter 7 Horacio Kalibang
Para los lectores de español:
Si desea leer el texto original "Horacio Kalibang o los autómatas" por Eduardo Ladislao Holmberg en español, puede descargar el archivo PDF, haga clic en "ciencia ficción" en la página principal.
Note to English speaking readers: this is the final installment of Horacio Kalibang o Los Automatas. To read this from the start go to:
http://sciamremix.blogspot.com/2011/12/eng-chapter-1-horacio-kalibang.html
VII.
Some time later, the house of the burgomeister Hipknock was full of people, to celebrate a grand day of family.
The now captain Hermann Blagerdorff was joining his destinies to those of the señorita Luisa Hipknock.
It was very natural.
They had read Werther and loved each other.
When two young Germans or any other nationality are in love, even if they have read Werther or not, get married or don’t get married: only, yes, it should be noted that: when getting married, they never wonder if they are automata or not.
"Everyone has come, except Fritz. Where could Fritz be?" asked the burgomeister, making a gesture of displeasure.
When they sat around the table, Hipknock, still standing, said in a solemn tone:
"My friends! Permit me a question: Among you, is anyone an automata? Tell me, please."
They all looked at each other: some because they did not know what an automaton was, others because they knew all too much.
"And Fritz? Why has Fritz not come?"
No one knew.
Horacio Kalibang entered with the desserts, and gave the burgomeister a letter from Fritz.
It read as follows:
"My dear cousin, burgomeister Hipknock.
Hermann has anticipated me in the heart of Luisa -no matter- I have her automaton, who will love me perpetually, with neither change or replacement, because my love will be indelibly etched in the sincerest responses from her springs. May they be happy in their vows, those will be my wishes. I have accompanied you as an automaton during the night (on which), meeting in your home, we celebrated the birthday of Luisa; as automaton I have gone with you, the next day, to the party of Oscar Baum. Oscar Baum is I, do not be frightened, cousin. You already know that Horacio Kalibang is also an automaton. When Luisa has children, that human machine will teach them, with special methods, all that that they must know. I send Horacio Kalibang for her: a wedding gift. Although in human form, Kalibang is a book. He is the only being who can be trusted. I am old, noble, and rich enough, for you to consider me powerful. You have been witness. I have the world in my hands, because I control it with my automata.
When, submerged into the tornado of politics, you find any person who is beyond what reason and conscience dictate to every honest man..you can exclaim: it is an automaton!
When, submerged in the great battles of thought, your scientific opponent calls in his own support, the mysteries of the faith, you can exclaim...it is an automaton!
When you see a poet who paints for you what he does not feel, a speaker who flatters the people, a doctor who kills, a lawyer who lies, a warrior who flees, a patriot who cheats, an enlightened fanatic, and a sage who brays..you can say about each one of them: "It is an automaton!". Yes, Hipknock, yes, I have filled the world with the products of my factory.
Remember often, Oscar Baum, or if you like, your cousin Fritz. Persist in your ideas, they are the light of the future!
An embrace to all.
Upon reading this letter, tears streamed down the cheeks of the burgomeister. When his daughter Luisa, now the wife of Blagerdorff, said goodbye, he said these words in her ear:
"You will be happy, my daughter, because there is something great and noble that watches over you. You will have children if you obey, like everyone else, the organic automatism, I will be the most happy of grandfathers, since I am the most unfortunate of cousins. And when I have a grandchild, who will be my glory and my delight, I will know to tell him, and if I die, be certain to tell this to him: "My child, before spreading the aromas that flow from your heart, examine with care that it is not an automaton who holds the cup that receives them."
The reader will touch the other springs.
Si desea leer el texto original "Horacio Kalibang o los autómatas" por Eduardo Ladislao Holmberg en español, puede descargar el archivo PDF, haga clic en "ciencia ficción" en la página principal.
Note to English speaking readers: this is the final installment of Horacio Kalibang o Los Automatas. To read this from the start go to:
http://sciamremix.blogspot.com/2011/12/eng-chapter-1-horacio-kalibang.html
VII.
Some time later, the house of the burgomeister Hipknock was full of people, to celebrate a grand day of family.
The now captain Hermann Blagerdorff was joining his destinies to those of the señorita Luisa Hipknock.
It was very natural.
They had read Werther and loved each other.
When two young Germans or any other nationality are in love, even if they have read Werther or not, get married or don’t get married: only, yes, it should be noted that: when getting married, they never wonder if they are automata or not.
"Everyone has come, except Fritz. Where could Fritz be?" asked the burgomeister, making a gesture of displeasure.
When they sat around the table, Hipknock, still standing, said in a solemn tone:
"My friends! Permit me a question: Among you, is anyone an automata? Tell me, please."
They all looked at each other: some because they did not know what an automaton was, others because they knew all too much.
"And Fritz? Why has Fritz not come?"
No one knew.
Horacio Kalibang entered with the desserts, and gave the burgomeister a letter from Fritz.
It read as follows:
"My dear cousin, burgomeister Hipknock.
Hermann has anticipated me in the heart of Luisa -no matter- I have her automaton, who will love me perpetually, with neither change or replacement, because my love will be indelibly etched in the sincerest responses from her springs. May they be happy in their vows, those will be my wishes. I have accompanied you as an automaton during the night (on which), meeting in your home, we celebrated the birthday of Luisa; as automaton I have gone with you, the next day, to the party of Oscar Baum. Oscar Baum is I, do not be frightened, cousin. You already know that Horacio Kalibang is also an automaton. When Luisa has children, that human machine will teach them, with special methods, all that that they must know. I send Horacio Kalibang for her: a wedding gift. Although in human form, Kalibang is a book. He is the only being who can be trusted. I am old, noble, and rich enough, for you to consider me powerful. You have been witness. I have the world in my hands, because I control it with my automata.
When, submerged into the tornado of politics, you find any person who is beyond what reason and conscience dictate to every honest man..you can exclaim: it is an automaton!
When, submerged in the great battles of thought, your scientific opponent calls in his own support, the mysteries of the faith, you can exclaim...it is an automaton!
When you see a poet who paints for you what he does not feel, a speaker who flatters the people, a doctor who kills, a lawyer who lies, a warrior who flees, a patriot who cheats, an enlightened fanatic, and a sage who brays..you can say about each one of them: "It is an automaton!". Yes, Hipknock, yes, I have filled the world with the products of my factory.
Remember often, Oscar Baum, or if you like, your cousin Fritz. Persist in your ideas, they are the light of the future!
An embrace to all.
Upon reading this letter, tears streamed down the cheeks of the burgomeister. When his daughter Luisa, now the wife of Blagerdorff, said goodbye, he said these words in her ear:
"You will be happy, my daughter, because there is something great and noble that watches over you. You will have children if you obey, like everyone else, the organic automatism, I will be the most happy of grandfathers, since I am the most unfortunate of cousins. And when I have a grandchild, who will be my glory and my delight, I will know to tell him, and if I die, be certain to tell this to him: "My child, before spreading the aromas that flow from your heart, examine with care that it is not an automaton who holds the cup that receives them."
The reader will touch the other springs.
Monday, January 16, 2012
(ENG) Chapter 6: Horacio Kalibang
Para los lectores de español:
Si desea leer el texto original "Horacio Kalibang o los autómatas" por Eduardo Ladislao Holmberg en español, puede descargar el archivo PDF, haga clic en "ciencia ficción" en la página principal.
VI.
"A very good day, cousin" I said upon seeing Hipknock in his dining room, moments after. "What event motivates this call?"
"What event? Read this letter."
And handing me Baum's letter, I read it, pleasantly surprised, as my cousin had predicted: first, for the announcement of work so great, as to be the fabrication of a brain, and second, because I knew well that Horacio Kalibang was but an automaton. It was not possible to explain to myself, by the way, how this had happened to pass unnoticed by my cousin.
After lunch we talked long about the last discoveries of the physiologists, and we arrived to the following conclusion: If Oscar Baum, in the opinion of many people, has undertaken a folly, for a few, it is not possible to deny that the probablities of success are in his favor.
At two in the afternoon, the burgomeister, who was accompanied by me, entered the house of Oscar Baum.
"Is Señor Baum at home?" he asked of a tall individual who came out to receive us.
"Do come in, Señor Burgomeister"
"This was not supposed to be the response" said Hipknock. "There are two of us."
"Cousin, you do not see that this is an automaton? This response proves, at least, that you were that you were expected alone."
"Then I'm blind, because I could not recognize that."
Upon entering the salon, a blond-haired individual with blue glasses rose from a chair, from which he was sitting, and addressing the burgomeister, he extended his hand to him.
"The Señor Burgomeister Hipknock?" he asked.
"At your service. Is this Señor Baum with whom I have the honor of speaking?"
"The honor is mine, sir, I have taken the liberty of inviting you because, before launching my work to the world, I desire to know the impression that it causes on you."
"Terrible, Señor Baum, terrible! Horacio Kalibang has completely produced in me the illusion of a live man, and if it weren’t for a special circumstance, he would still guard his mystery.
"Horacio Kalibang is the most imperfect of all of them, but he draws much attention because he walks off the center of gravity."
"Only because of that?"
Señor Baum kept silent.
His eyes made a revolution in their orbits, his lips pressed together, his arms fell inert, while one of his legs, I know not with what movement of the spring, detached from his body and fell on the ground.
The burgomeister jumped in his seat.
For my part, I burst into laughter. My cousin had not realized that he was conversing with an automaton. The truth is he is already somewhat short-sighted.
"Donnerweter" said a voice in the next room, as if the anger had torn from him an unkind expression and opening a door, the burgomeister saw in front of him another individual, identical to the one that had just been deformed. It approached my cousin and said to him:
"Pardon me, Señor Burgomeister, for this second liberty that I have taken to have myself represented as an automaton, but no doubt you will pardon me, because the excellence of the work, quickly built, is a guarantee of my respect for you.
"You are forgiven."
"The mechanical, Señor Burgomeister, is a science without limits, whose principles can be applied not only to the ordinary constructions and interpretation of the heavens, but also to all the intimate phenomena of the material brain."
"It is my opinion"
"What is the brain but a grand machine whose exquisite springs move themselves under impulses a thousand times changed? What is the soul but the set of these mechanical functions? The physical-chemical action of the stimulation of blood, the nervous transmission, and the idea in its imponderable and intangible character, are but various states of the same matter, one and simple in substance, immortal and eternally indifferent, obeying the fatality of its permutations, that produces an infusion, a mushroom, a reptile, a tree, a man, and finally a thought."
"All this is very good, Señor Baum, but I want to see your automata because it is getting late. I am a materialist, and your words do not cause in me either fear or novelty."
Señor Baum got up to his feet, and directing himself to the door, called the servant.
"Notify the machine operators that the Señor Burgomeister wants the demonstrations to begin”
A moment later one of the walls of the chamber rose up as a curtain, and we saw, in front of us, a huge room, in which nothing lacked: easels, pianos, flutes, pistols, swords, books, etc.
Señor Baum returned to take his seat.
"Music! Dance!"
"Fritz! You are coming out yourself as an automata!” the burgomeister said to me.
I smiled because even if it were true, my cousin did not know what was happening.
And so it was. One of the automaton, with a violoncello in its left hand and a chair in the right, sat in the middle of the salon, but what was most pleasing to my cousin was that its face and its body were my own portrait.
The musician executed with mastery a precious introduction, after which, a pianist accompanied it, so that we could not but applaud.
A third automaton approached the piano, and turning a page from the book, continued the music, adding the song, and so beautiful was the the piece that they executed that my cousindid not know how to express his admiration to Señor Baum, who remained silent.
The musicians retired.
In their place appeared two beautiful girls, who, in suits of illusion and garlands of flowers, danced with such grace and freedom to, "The Awakening of the Fairies", that invisible musicians produced, that I was tempted to throw myself in the middle of them to accompany them. They retired.
"Duel!" said Señor Baum.
Two young gallants entered into the salon, by opposite doors, and after greeting each other, crossed their swords, and then stopped for a moment.
"It is your destiny to die in my hands."
"Not so, for the wound is not true in your sword."
"Have you called me a coward?"
"Coward? you must not change my words!"
"I have said and I repeat: the wrath chokes you, anger blinds you!"
"Defend your chest."
"Ho! Hee! That in yours I sink my sword."
And disarming his adversary, with these words, he took the sword that had just fallen and cut off an ear.
"Enough! Enough!" exclaimed the burgomeister. "I can't permit this to continue. First blood!"
The automata stood up, and saluting us, withdrew arm in arm.
"Painting!" said Baum.
Two naked mannequins entered the studio.
One of them was carrying, in the hand, a color palette, brushes and [tiento? what is this painting tool? we don’t know the word in English -ss] and sitting at the easel which was ready, began to copy its companion, with all the precision of a consummate artist. Having finished the painting, it left the studio.
"If these are automata, it is necessary to confess that they are no different than us" said Hipknock.
"If the esteemed burgomeister will permit me" observed Baum, "I would like to reverse the proposition."
I will not tire my readers with the enumeration of the different pictures that were presented to us: battles, parliaments, academia, walks, dances, love scenes, mystical pictures. All were presented for our admiration, with the truly special tint, that only is of the great works of the masters.
We were close to retiring. The burgomeister, smiling with pleasure, more for finding a kind of confirmation to the theory of the unconsciousness of his friend Hartmann, than for that which he had witnessed, said to Baum:
"But I observe, there was lacking a picture of family"
"If the Señor burgomeister would allow, his very own family would appear immediately.”
"As you like"
And giving a nod, the salon began to fill with automata that, sitting around the table, developed, before the static eyes of the burgomeister, the very same scene from the previous night with the same movements and the same words used in the discussion about Horacio, who a moment later entered, and pronounced the words that everyone had heard from him.
My cousin could not help but laugh out loud when seeing his own automaton make a gesture of horror, upon the entrance of Kalibang, and raising his glance to the automaton of Luisa, he said:
"But I observe, Señor Baum, that my daughter looks too much at Lieutenant Blagerdorff, my nephew. "
"The Señor burgomeister also will notice that his nephew pays with no counterfeit money".
"But that.."
"They would cease to be automatas, Señor burgomeister, if they altered a single pass."
The burgomeister stood, perhaps to show to Señor Baum his indignation, in a positive manner, when he began to run to the table, and climbing over it, he broke off one of the arms and threw it over the head of the automaton of the burgomeister, who, irritated by this audacity, pronounced these words:
"Donnerweter! Ich habe ihn jetzt gefunden!" This is what we are going to record on a sheet of gold, if the fabricator of the automatas says the truth: the same words that had been said in the same way, when he received Oscar Baum's letter.
A terrible scene then took place and my cousin understood that it was useless to fight with those ferocious mannequins, he said to me:
"Fritz, we must leave, since we do not know how far it is possible for the ability of these fanatics can get. Here we remain, fighting each other in a grand battle. If they are the automata, or if we are, I do not know, but I assure you that they sing, they dance, they yell, they know, and they battle with such skill, that seems more natural than of springs.”
And then we were retreating, when an automaton, taller and stronger than the others, approached the table and yelled:
"Enough, señores! I am the strongest and I am right: if any of you denies this, I will break his skull, even though he is right. I am not only the most automaton, I am all of humanity, and when humanity speaks with strength, Reason is the most despicable of childrens' toys."
That automaton was a beast...but if it was an automaton!
Calm reigned in the salon.
"Now, esteemed burgomeister Hipknock, do you have any doubts with respect to the ability of our conductor?" he asked.
"None, Señor, none."
"Do you have any questions to ask?"
"Oh, yes! Has it been long since these automata were made?"
"Much time!”
"And they are all here?"
"No there are a few thousand of them who are rolling around the world. When they run out of what you call the rope, and that which our conductor calls his ability, they will return to receive new strength, and then, Señor burgomeister, and then...good night."
My cousin and I looked at each other. It was logical.
Then..then..we retired, pleased by the wonders that we had witnessed, and terribly displeased with these thoughts:
"Could Fritz be an automaton?" -said the burgomeister.
"Could the burgomeister be an automaton?" -said I.
Upon arriving at the home of the first, I bade him farewell.
"You will not join us to eat, Fritz?"
But I was already far away.
Note to readers: to continue reading, go here.
Si desea leer el texto original "Horacio Kalibang o los autómatas" por Eduardo Ladislao Holmberg en español, puede descargar el archivo PDF, haga clic en "ciencia ficción" en la página principal.
VI.
"A very good day, cousin" I said upon seeing Hipknock in his dining room, moments after. "What event motivates this call?"
"What event? Read this letter."
And handing me Baum's letter, I read it, pleasantly surprised, as my cousin had predicted: first, for the announcement of work so great, as to be the fabrication of a brain, and second, because I knew well that Horacio Kalibang was but an automaton. It was not possible to explain to myself, by the way, how this had happened to pass unnoticed by my cousin.
After lunch we talked long about the last discoveries of the physiologists, and we arrived to the following conclusion: If Oscar Baum, in the opinion of many people, has undertaken a folly, for a few, it is not possible to deny that the probablities of success are in his favor.
At two in the afternoon, the burgomeister, who was accompanied by me, entered the house of Oscar Baum.
"Is Señor Baum at home?" he asked of a tall individual who came out to receive us.
"Do come in, Señor Burgomeister"
"This was not supposed to be the response" said Hipknock. "There are two of us."
"Cousin, you do not see that this is an automaton? This response proves, at least, that you were that you were expected alone."
"Then I'm blind, because I could not recognize that."
Upon entering the salon, a blond-haired individual with blue glasses rose from a chair, from which he was sitting, and addressing the burgomeister, he extended his hand to him.
"The Señor Burgomeister Hipknock?" he asked.
"At your service. Is this Señor Baum with whom I have the honor of speaking?"
"The honor is mine, sir, I have taken the liberty of inviting you because, before launching my work to the world, I desire to know the impression that it causes on you."
"Terrible, Señor Baum, terrible! Horacio Kalibang has completely produced in me the illusion of a live man, and if it weren’t for a special circumstance, he would still guard his mystery.
"Horacio Kalibang is the most imperfect of all of them, but he draws much attention because he walks off the center of gravity."
"Only because of that?"
Señor Baum kept silent.
His eyes made a revolution in their orbits, his lips pressed together, his arms fell inert, while one of his legs, I know not with what movement of the spring, detached from his body and fell on the ground.
The burgomeister jumped in his seat.
For my part, I burst into laughter. My cousin had not realized that he was conversing with an automaton. The truth is he is already somewhat short-sighted.
"Donnerweter" said a voice in the next room, as if the anger had torn from him an unkind expression and opening a door, the burgomeister saw in front of him another individual, identical to the one that had just been deformed. It approached my cousin and said to him:
"Pardon me, Señor Burgomeister, for this second liberty that I have taken to have myself represented as an automaton, but no doubt you will pardon me, because the excellence of the work, quickly built, is a guarantee of my respect for you.
"You are forgiven."
"The mechanical, Señor Burgomeister, is a science without limits, whose principles can be applied not only to the ordinary constructions and interpretation of the heavens, but also to all the intimate phenomena of the material brain."
"It is my opinion"
"What is the brain but a grand machine whose exquisite springs move themselves under impulses a thousand times changed? What is the soul but the set of these mechanical functions? The physical-chemical action of the stimulation of blood, the nervous transmission, and the idea in its imponderable and intangible character, are but various states of the same matter, one and simple in substance, immortal and eternally indifferent, obeying the fatality of its permutations, that produces an infusion, a mushroom, a reptile, a tree, a man, and finally a thought."
"All this is very good, Señor Baum, but I want to see your automata because it is getting late. I am a materialist, and your words do not cause in me either fear or novelty."
Señor Baum got up to his feet, and directing himself to the door, called the servant.
"Notify the machine operators that the Señor Burgomeister wants the demonstrations to begin”
A moment later one of the walls of the chamber rose up as a curtain, and we saw, in front of us, a huge room, in which nothing lacked: easels, pianos, flutes, pistols, swords, books, etc.
Señor Baum returned to take his seat.
"Music! Dance!"
"Fritz! You are coming out yourself as an automata!” the burgomeister said to me.
I smiled because even if it were true, my cousin did not know what was happening.
And so it was. One of the automaton, with a violoncello in its left hand and a chair in the right, sat in the middle of the salon, but what was most pleasing to my cousin was that its face and its body were my own portrait.
The musician executed with mastery a precious introduction, after which, a pianist accompanied it, so that we could not but applaud.
A third automaton approached the piano, and turning a page from the book, continued the music, adding the song, and so beautiful was the the piece that they executed that my cousindid not know how to express his admiration to Señor Baum, who remained silent.
The musicians retired.
In their place appeared two beautiful girls, who, in suits of illusion and garlands of flowers, danced with such grace and freedom to, "The Awakening of the Fairies", that invisible musicians produced, that I was tempted to throw myself in the middle of them to accompany them. They retired.
"Duel!" said Señor Baum.
Two young gallants entered into the salon, by opposite doors, and after greeting each other, crossed their swords, and then stopped for a moment.
"It is your destiny to die in my hands."
"Not so, for the wound is not true in your sword."
"Have you called me a coward?"
"Coward? you must not change my words!"
"I have said and I repeat: the wrath chokes you, anger blinds you!"
"Defend your chest."
"Ho! Hee! That in yours I sink my sword."
And disarming his adversary, with these words, he took the sword that had just fallen and cut off an ear.
"Enough! Enough!" exclaimed the burgomeister. "I can't permit this to continue. First blood!"
The automata stood up, and saluting us, withdrew arm in arm.
"Painting!" said Baum.
Two naked mannequins entered the studio.
One of them was carrying, in the hand, a color palette, brushes and [tiento? what is this painting tool? we don’t know the word in English -ss] and sitting at the easel which was ready, began to copy its companion, with all the precision of a consummate artist. Having finished the painting, it left the studio.
"If these are automata, it is necessary to confess that they are no different than us" said Hipknock.
"If the esteemed burgomeister will permit me" observed Baum, "I would like to reverse the proposition."
I will not tire my readers with the enumeration of the different pictures that were presented to us: battles, parliaments, academia, walks, dances, love scenes, mystical pictures. All were presented for our admiration, with the truly special tint, that only is of the great works of the masters.
We were close to retiring. The burgomeister, smiling with pleasure, more for finding a kind of confirmation to the theory of the unconsciousness of his friend Hartmann, than for that which he had witnessed, said to Baum:
"But I observe, there was lacking a picture of family"
"If the Señor burgomeister would allow, his very own family would appear immediately.”
"As you like"
And giving a nod, the salon began to fill with automata that, sitting around the table, developed, before the static eyes of the burgomeister, the very same scene from the previous night with the same movements and the same words used in the discussion about Horacio, who a moment later entered, and pronounced the words that everyone had heard from him.
My cousin could not help but laugh out loud when seeing his own automaton make a gesture of horror, upon the entrance of Kalibang, and raising his glance to the automaton of Luisa, he said:
"But I observe, Señor Baum, that my daughter looks too much at Lieutenant Blagerdorff, my nephew. "
"The Señor burgomeister also will notice that his nephew pays with no counterfeit money".
"But that.."
"They would cease to be automatas, Señor burgomeister, if they altered a single pass."
The burgomeister stood, perhaps to show to Señor Baum his indignation, in a positive manner, when he began to run to the table, and climbing over it, he broke off one of the arms and threw it over the head of the automaton of the burgomeister, who, irritated by this audacity, pronounced these words:
"Donnerweter! Ich habe ihn jetzt gefunden!" This is what we are going to record on a sheet of gold, if the fabricator of the automatas says the truth: the same words that had been said in the same way, when he received Oscar Baum's letter.
A terrible scene then took place and my cousin understood that it was useless to fight with those ferocious mannequins, he said to me:
"Fritz, we must leave, since we do not know how far it is possible for the ability of these fanatics can get. Here we remain, fighting each other in a grand battle. If they are the automata, or if we are, I do not know, but I assure you that they sing, they dance, they yell, they know, and they battle with such skill, that seems more natural than of springs.”
And then we were retreating, when an automaton, taller and stronger than the others, approached the table and yelled:
"Enough, señores! I am the strongest and I am right: if any of you denies this, I will break his skull, even though he is right. I am not only the most automaton, I am all of humanity, and when humanity speaks with strength, Reason is the most despicable of childrens' toys."
That automaton was a beast...but if it was an automaton!
Calm reigned in the salon.
"Now, esteemed burgomeister Hipknock, do you have any doubts with respect to the ability of our conductor?" he asked.
"None, Señor, none."
"Do you have any questions to ask?"
"Oh, yes! Has it been long since these automata were made?"
"Much time!”
"And they are all here?"
"No there are a few thousand of them who are rolling around the world. When they run out of what you call the rope, and that which our conductor calls his ability, they will return to receive new strength, and then, Señor burgomeister, and then...good night."
My cousin and I looked at each other. It was logical.
Then..then..we retired, pleased by the wonders that we had witnessed, and terribly displeased with these thoughts:
"Could Fritz be an automaton?" -said the burgomeister.
"Could the burgomeister be an automaton?" -said I.
Upon arriving at the home of the first, I bade him farewell.
"You will not join us to eat, Fritz?"
But I was already far away.
Note to readers: to continue reading, go here.
(ENG) Chapter 5 Horacio Kalibang
Para los lectores de español:
Si desea leer el texto original "Horacio Kalibang o los autómatas" por Eduardo Ladislao Holmberg en español, puede descargar el archivo PDF, haga clic en "ciencia ficción" en la página principal.
V.
The burgomeister had just gotten up.
The veil of uncertainty had disappeared from his face, which was already cheerful.
"Hum! He is skilled, the artist. Let’s see what he is up to."
And at that moment, as if the circumstances came together to satisfy his curiosity, a servant entered in the room, bringing a letter.
Hipknock opened the envelope and read:
"Señor burgomeister Hipknock:
I have been established in this town, for the past two days, with the purpose of working more quietly than in Berlin. I take the liberty to invite you at two in the afternoon, to this house, Avenue X, where I hope you will honor me by seeing my work.
A manufacturor of automata for some years, the latest discoveries of Edison have hurt my national pride, stimulating me to direct my research to an ultimate direction: I am on the eve of making a brain that functions by itself.
Knowing, as I do, the philosophical ideas and wisdom of the esteemed burgomeister, I believed that there was no one better to give a judgement on some of my work.
I greet the esteemed burgomeister with the highest consideration.
Oscar Baum
Creator of automata."
"Hello, Señor Baum! So you were the stranger last night, eh? Very well, we will see your automata. And Kasper will have gotten away with it? And what will be my nephew the lieutenent say when he finds out?”
Directing himself to the servant, he told him:
"Run to Fritz's house and tell him I wait for him for lunch; and also add that it is necessary to come even if he is dying."
The servant left and the burgomeister was left alone, delivered to his reflections, which, by the way, were not very favorable, of either the spiritualists, or the clergy.
"Donnerweter!" he said, repeating the words that he had heard from Baum the previous evening. "Ich habe ihn jetzt gefunden" This is what we will record on a plate of gold, if the fabricator of the automatas speaks the truth.
Note to readers: to continue reading click here.
Si desea leer el texto original "Horacio Kalibang o los autómatas" por Eduardo Ladislao Holmberg en español, puede descargar el archivo PDF, haga clic en "ciencia ficción" en la página principal.
V.
The burgomeister had just gotten up.
The veil of uncertainty had disappeared from his face, which was already cheerful.
"Hum! He is skilled, the artist. Let’s see what he is up to."
And at that moment, as if the circumstances came together to satisfy his curiosity, a servant entered in the room, bringing a letter.
Hipknock opened the envelope and read:
"Señor burgomeister Hipknock:
I have been established in this town, for the past two days, with the purpose of working more quietly than in Berlin. I take the liberty to invite you at two in the afternoon, to this house, Avenue X, where I hope you will honor me by seeing my work.
A manufacturor of automata for some years, the latest discoveries of Edison have hurt my national pride, stimulating me to direct my research to an ultimate direction: I am on the eve of making a brain that functions by itself.
Knowing, as I do, the philosophical ideas and wisdom of the esteemed burgomeister, I believed that there was no one better to give a judgement on some of my work.
I greet the esteemed burgomeister with the highest consideration.
Oscar Baum
Creator of automata."
"Hello, Señor Baum! So you were the stranger last night, eh? Very well, we will see your automata. And Kasper will have gotten away with it? And what will be my nephew the lieutenent say when he finds out?”
Directing himself to the servant, he told him:
"Run to Fritz's house and tell him I wait for him for lunch; and also add that it is necessary to come even if he is dying."
The servant left and the burgomeister was left alone, delivered to his reflections, which, by the way, were not very favorable, of either the spiritualists, or the clergy.
"Donnerweter!" he said, repeating the words that he had heard from Baum the previous evening. "Ich habe ihn jetzt gefunden" This is what we will record on a plate of gold, if the fabricator of the automatas speaks the truth.
Note to readers: to continue reading click here.
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