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Speed of chaos
A political statement
Governed by time
-安天美
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Sometimes chaos isn't random – it's orchestrated. Like waves crashing from multiple directions, each crisis overlaps with the next until it becomes impossible to distinguish signal from noise. This isn't the chaos of nature, but the carefully calibrated disorder of systems designed to overwhelm. When we can't tell which emergency deserves our attention first, we spend our precious time trying to orient ourselves rather than addressing root causes.
The genius of this mechanism lies in its compound effect. Each new disruption doesn't just consume its own share of time – it disrupts our processing of previous events, creating a perpetual state of mental backlog. We become locked in a cycle of constant recalibration, never quite catching up, never quite making sense of what's happening around us.
Those who control resources – whether material, digital, or cultural – aren't just participants in this chaos; they're its conductors. When they increase the tempo of disruption, they're making a clear political statement about who deserves the luxury of thought, of planning, of strategic response. The ability to force others into reactive mode rather than reflective space becomes a form of soft power, more effective than overt control because it masquerades as circumstance.
This isn't just about creating noise – it's about controlling the rhythm of society itself. When every moment is an emergency, there's no time to build movements, to forge deep connections, to imagine alternatives. The chaos becomes a form of governance, maintaining power not through force but through the constant theft of time and attention.
In this system, time reveals itself as the ultimate resource – more precious than money, more fundamental than data. Every human endeavor, from gathering food to building relationships, from learning skills to creating change, requires this non-renewable currency. When chaos constantly interrupts these processes, it doesn't just steal moments – it fragments our capacity to exist fully in any of them.
The governance of time extends beyond individual moments into the architecture of possibility itself. How much time we have determines not just what we can do, but what we can imagine doing. When our hours are constantly fractured by manufactured chaos, our dreams shrink to fit within the spaces between disruptions.
Yet understanding this mechanism creates possibility for resistance. If chaos is a tool for stealing time, then protecting our temporal sovereignty becomes an act of rebellion. This isn't about moving faster or multitasking more efficiently – it's about recognising and guarding the integrity of our time as fiercely as we would guard any other fundamental right.
The revolution begins with this recognition: that the speed of chaos is not a force of nature but a political choice, that our time is not just a resource to be optimised but a territory to be defended, and that the ability to move at a human pace is essential to our dignity and agency as beings in time.
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<aside> <img src="/icons/backward_blue.svg" alt="/icons/backward_blue.svg" width="40px" /> Reciprocal Wisdom
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<aside> <img src="/icons/forward_blue.svg" alt="/icons/forward_blue.svg" width="40px" /> Devotional Delight
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