Jorge Sánchez

Technology has a funny way of being really slow. The same oppressions, exacerbated now by this delay, are embedded in code and coding and form part of a series of 100101’s. Since coding nowadays is usually whitewashing and big data is really just white data, I insert myself in images, texts, text messages, architectural spaces, our built environment, to interact and challenge these existing codes.

Note regarding audio: In conjunction with International Studio & Curatiorial Program ISCP’s billboard offsite project ‘Amigxs,’ artist Camilo Godoy invited Ella Boureau, Susie Day, Michael Funk, Jorge Sánchez, Pamela Sneed, and Aldrin Valdez for a reading on November 28, 2017. This is the audio for Jorge’s “A wired society will have to eat cables or Una sociedad llena de cables va tener que comérselos”.

 

Una sociedad llena de cables va tener que comérselos
A wired society will have to eat cables

On a black background, with softwhite light source at top left, from bottom left, a white proprietary Lightning cable is held pinched between a thumb and index finger; the cable housing is split where it meets the eight pin connector. The hand repeats a gentle upwards motion in this short animation.
Figura 1 
A significant quantity of hardware, terminals, power sources, and connector cables of all sorts are pictured. Three black matte monitors are shown from behind, sitting on a wooden desk stained to a finish like cherry. The right (sinister) two of the monitors are legibly marked HANNspree, one of these disappearing at its top edge into the top right edge of the image. At least ten boxes, of indistinguishable type to this editor, are arrayed on the right (sinister) edge of the desk, upon one of which the muscular miniature figurine of a baseball player is place, in white uniform and blue cap, right arm raised and right leg lifted, midthrow. On the floor, which is of a darker stain than the desk, like black cherry, many cables and other hardware are tangled and arrayed, as well as a pair of lightgray sneakers with white accents. A white hardware shell is visible in the bottom left corner of the image, on which a black sticker with red, blue red, drab, green, and yellow lettering indicates GAMERTV.
Figura 2

How’s that for a connection? How’s that for being connected? How’s that for time and space and distance? What the fuck are we supposed to do with all these cables? Are fishes going to eat plastic or fiber optics? Will we eat them too, when we go hungry, when all of our food has been polluted and contaminated? Will bees pollinate fiber optic cables or wires?  

On a finished granite or quartz surface, a white Lightning cable is shown at close view, with visible scuffing to the 8-pin connector, which faces the left edge of the image. The housing of the cable is completely torn from the place where it would meet the housing of the 8-pin connector. In the top right corner, a large yellow Slightly Frowning Face emoji is overlayed.
Figura 3
In the left-two thirds of this image, black, grey, yellow--and to the far right, some orange and blue--cables hang downward onto a grey or beige low-pile carpet. From within an aperture among these cables, completely overhung, protrude two human legs, visible from midthigh outward, clothed in chinos slightly paler than the grey or beige carpet; the legs where greyblack or drab socks, and black derby shoes. The toe of the leg on the left (dexter) is occluded by the bottom edge of the image.
Figura 4

It’s like being deliberately handed a poisonous gift. Cables look pretty for exactly three seconds before you touch them, before you put all of your filthy fingers on them or so they will have you believe.  Apple (are we going to have any of those in the future?) is stashing trillions of dollars of profits overseas and is selling you white cables. And you buy them! Is it a coincidence that all of the Apple cables are white? Apple cables turn darker and darker and break down. Things that now become nonwhite are made to look uglier and disposable with usage. Is it a coincidence? Is it coincidence that when you rip open the chords, the cables, by accident, by over usage, by boredom, you get burnt! You literally get ZAPPED! Wake up! But no, you continue plugging that phone in, you have to, you carefully put tape around it, you carefully find ways to tease the cable, you speak to it, you call it names, you baby talk it, you say, baby come on, you gotta work for me today, you gotta get that 5% charge and that connectivity.  You might receive a text, you might need to listen to an audio, you might need to send that selfie, you might need to take that selfie, delete that post that didn’t get enough likes, unread a message, unsend an email, delete an email, or you might need to see the weather, which in Spanish also means to see the time. Ver el tiempo. There may be no new messages, but let’s refresh. 

From bottom left, two thirds up the frame, a white hardware shell divided itself horizontally in thirds, behind which in top left third of the frame, large bundles of cable terminate in white tile ceiling and along gunmetal gray girders. The white shell is draped with yellow, red, and blue cables. Next dominating the remaining two thirds of the frame, a large black metal stack, with hardware shells and cable terminals, junctions, overwound with cables red, yellow, blue, and purple. In a drawerlike protrusion of this stack, a chrome color laptop with a black keyboard sits open and powered on, displaying a gray screen with some white and green regions, perhaps blue text. An additional black keywboard is visible in the bottom right corner of the stack.
Figura 5 
In chief, this image shows a significant tangle of yellow and blue cables, behind which are variously visible hardware stacks in black and chrome. One or two red or orange cables are visible wrapped among the yellow and blue. The tangle is denser at the center of the image, with more yellow cable on the left, and more chrome hardware, and more blue cable and black hardware on the right.
Figura 6

How does refreshing something become so fucking obsolete? You press the screen on your phone and with your index finger or your thumb you refresh. You want to see what that person you have not talked to in exactly seventy weeks has for comments, you crave to see her posts, like making your daily puritan rounds around your given Facebook guidelines.  You push down and you refresh again, this time with a bit more curiosity, your blood pressure is rising a bit, you flush, you slide that index finger or your thumb down again and refresh, there’s a pause, maybe there’s no signal, but you try again. Information begins to load, you can see more tweets, more likes, more photos, more texts, more videos, more information by pushing the screen again and scrolling your index finger or your thumb down the phone, refresh and you get new tweets, refresh and you found yourself on a photo album from 2013 of that same girl you now want to defriend, refresh and you missed a post you wanted to see earlier, refresh and you try to find it, refresh and you type the name of the person you’re looking for, but first you have to refresh your recollection, first you have to ask your mind what was the name of the post you were looking for? What was it about? You google something like executive, digital poetics, NYC, and a last name. Algorithmic power gives you the most popular and paid for results brought to you by cognitive capitalism. Refresh and you see that your friend has more likes than you. Refresh one last time thinking that you might be able to get a few more likes on that political comment or post that made you think you are politically active.  A couple more refreshes simply mean you have died a little.  The more you refresh the more you give something up.  Something has refreshed except ourselves.  We did not refresh. We left a little of us behind. 

On a dirty and damaged beige carpet, At left, a four plug gray powerstrip with a black rectangular adapter with gold lettering plugged in the top outlet, then an empty outlet, then a white rectangular adapter, last a black rounded slightly trapezoidal adapter. Next from left, a white six outlet powerstrip, with red lettering, with a rectangular black adapter plugged in top outlet, then a semiovular black adapter, then a square or slightly trapezoidal black adapter, then a square black adapter with two beveled edges,  then a circular black adapter labeled sky, then a semi trapezoidal white adapter. Above this powerstrip, a white modem or other hardware shell, to which are connected two white connector and one yellow connector, all with white cable housings. Third from left, and at the bottom of the image, a white three outlet power strip, with a round black adapter labeled sky in the top outlet, then a black rectangular outlet with beveled wings on its upper half, and finally, a black slightly trapezoidal black adapter with a red light or label. On the right edge of the image, a black hardware shell is suggested; over the whole of the image run black, white, red, yellow, and blue cables, this last with winding silver embellishment.
Figura 7

When it comes to networks and social media, time and space like to have conversations between themselves and without ourselves.  The physical representations of our online social networks are killing us. Time and space have morphed into the most boring individuals on the planet, let me tell you, time and space, they always want to play, but because you refreshed, you stayed with them, you didn’t see the phases of the moon, you missed the tides, you missed the tides and saying hello to the seal that came by to tell you, why am I here, it’s so fucking warm, was I supposed to go south?  It’s warm everywhere now and there’s no food, says the seal, I came by to say goodbye because I’ll die, says the seal. You refreshed and I feel boiling water around me, says the seal. 

In the center of this image, an open passageway, with blue grid markings on a shining gray floor of sealed concrete or cement. This passageway has its vanishing point at dead center of the image, where a rectangle of yellowwhite light makes indeterminate some suggestions of windows or doors. The light takes on a bluewhite aspect where it glares on the floor. Over gray framework on either side of the passageway, and from black girders, as well as from a narrow bluegray floating ceiling which tracks over the passageway, hang red, yellow, blue, green, black, white, and gray cables, with the red, yellow, and green standing out most brightly.
Figura 8

There’s no reason to remove any tears, says the seal. Do you have any? When was the last time you cried? Smartphones and their cables have a way to get to them, clean them up, leave the salt behind.

In a recess or alcove of wooden furniture (or perhaps of drywall construction), a white hardware shell, perhaps a modem box, sits attached to a rear frame, above which a blue covering is visible. Over this white shell, and over the entire right half of the image, hand red, white, black, blue, and one or two yellow, green cables, in great tangle. From the bottom left corner of the image, narrowing slightly as it tapers off into the upper left edge of the image, is visible a wooden door or wall with a recessed pull handle in chrome, with a black grip on its bottom edge. The wood is finished to a shine, with a stain suggestive of cherry.
Figura 9

I see you staring at the screen.  The image lasts for so long.  I begin to add different contextual spaces to you. I see you pooping holding the phone staring at the screen, you look back at me but only see a screen. I see you staring back at me now on a roller coaster, staring at the screen. You’re staring at the screen, in a massive protest against police brutality, you’re now staring at the screen at a movie theater, with a lover, pooping again, eating, hands feel heavy, you look at me, your hands are a little burnt from the usage, they become two separate smartphones. Now you can wave goodbye with your two new smartphones, with that extra connectivity, but you will need an additional cable.

 

In this image, the flag of the State of Palestine (علم فلسطين‎) hangs on a white wall. The flag is a horizontal tricolour of black, white, and green; with a red triangle based at the hoist, the long edge of which triangle is flush with the bottom edge of white crown molding. On a table with a dark walnut stain sit, from left, a tall glass vase holding several stems of purple flowers on an umbel, next, a chardonnay wineglass, thirdfull of transparent paleyellow liquid, next, Jorge Sánchez, in a white sleeveless minidress or romper, with the leftmost (dexter) leg crossed over right. Jorge has short lightbrown or blonde hair, and a short beard and mustache of the same color. Upon leftmost (dexter) arm, Jorge wears a wide chrome or silver bracelet at the wrist, and holds in the hand a chardonnay wineglass thirdfull of transparent pale yellow liquid. Jorge's head is leaned on the shoulder of Carlos Martiel. Carlos wear a brimless, short, rounded cap colored orange, with a gold band around its bottom edge. Carlos has a thin black mustache. Carlos wears a shortsleeved, slim-fitting buttoned shirt, with a red band collar, sleeves, buttons, sides, and accent along the top edge of the pocket. The front of the shirt is printed with a mustardcolored pattern of alternating horizontal and vertical stripes, showing the red ground color between. The top two buttons of the shirt are unbuttoned, showing chest beneath. Carlos wears black pants, perhaps chinos or jeans. In the leftmost (dexter) hand, Carlos holds a chardonnay wineglass, of which the contents are occluded by the fingers of the hand, the third of which is ringed with a plain band. Carlos holds the rightmost (sinister) hand on the shoulder of Brendan Mahoney. Brendan sits in a white, rectilinear parlor chair, at a slightly lower level than Jorge and Carlos. Brendan looks to the left edge of the frame; Brendan has short black hair on the leftmost (dexter) side of the head, and long auburn hair on the rightmost (sinister) side, which hangs to midchest. Brendan  Brendan wears a black, shortsleeved minidress, or perhaps a black teeshirt and black shorts. Brendan's leftmost arm lies along the back of the chair, and has black polish upon the nails of the hand. Brendan's rightmost (sinister) hand lies upon the leg, and has a thin band bracelet at the wrist, and black or darkred polish on the visible nails of the hand. From the right edge of the image, beside Brendan, are visible obcordate, waxy green leaves with pinnate venation.
From left,  Jorge Sánchez with Carlos Martiel, and Brendan Mahoney. Photo by Camilo Godoy.

Jorge Sánchez is a maricón, poet and attorney from Caguas, Puerto Rico. He lives in Newark, New Jersey, and his writings have been recently published by Printed Web, a semi-annual publication dedicated to web-to-print discourse (the full collection was acquired by The Museum of Modern Art Library in January 2017).  Jorge’s writings have also appeared at La Revista of El Instituto de Cultura Puertorriqueña, among others.