Spam: a respond

In reply to / collaboration with http://rememberhuman.blogspot.com/2011/10/violence-or-necessity-of-spam-filter.html

Hello Dearest One, your urgent respond needed immediately.

The robot wants the human's energy, the battery, a la The Matrix. Energy is needed so the robot can fulfil it's purpose, to be a servant. Servant for... humans, we are to assume. But, the human has been reduced to an economic indifference, a node in a network of capital, 'the used'. Used for? Well, to sustain the robot. But the robot is currently not satisfied with the dehumanising tendencies of the system. The robot promotes humanity. Human batteries.

This robot has landed upon a very appropriate paradox. That which acknowledges that capital depends on the tension between economically defined categorisable people, easily marketed towards, benign; and, the gradual becoming of them into something perpetually new - unpredictable, new markets, new growth, the expansion of capital. The robot, i propose, unbeknownst to itself, has to be precisely the hungry holistic hegemonic global economic system, with a complex of self-hatred.

This leads us to the robot's critique of the spam filter. In other words, the extent to which capital itself appreciates the spam filter. Here, the internet itself is considered the filter, and spam is considered as the eclectic multitude of content, all somewhat rooted in propagandised ideology. The filter, as an arbitrator of content, henchman of capital, provides us with the most appropriate material. This is somewhat necessary, and somewhat violent. Necessary because of the mess of the internet, through which progressive thought is obscured. But violent because the process reaffirms the user (used) as an economic node, by filtering out that which could lead elsewhere.

The robot is sceptical. This tension is what it requires, yet it seems critical of the process that does it. It's proposal seems to favour new, human, values, which detract from pure profit. But the rupture required to open the space is left out. Can this moment be found in the nature of spam itself, its relationship to capital? Presently this is unclear. And does the robot see this obstacle as one which is hindering the free flow of capital, as the libertarian sees regulation; or hindering the progress of man?

Can we think spam for the high street, with Virgin Megastore and Pret a Manger and the like occupying the top 50,000 results, independent stores doing the rest, obscured by one another and unable to make an impression and thus compete, and a few homeless people asking for change, who are quickly filtered out into the spam box? Is the spam box growing as a result, as more things fall into its judgement of uselessness? Do its rules change and its tentacles pick up new supposedly unwanted stragglers? Finally, is capitalism's 'idea' of human progress the one we want to adopt? Human progress in aid of the sustenance of capital... Remember, human, plug yourself in.

NUC: Oscar's, Ladywell.

Ladywell is a bit of a contradiction. Too close to Catford to be really nice, but with a great organic shop, El's Kitchen, and this café, Oscar's, nestled amongst the kebab shops and newsagents with broken shop signs. I like Oscars. It's tidy and cute, like a well-behaved kitten, but playful too, also like a kitten. Yes, the kitten metaphor has an extensive and varied utility, perfect for characterising certain cafés. There's a lot of colour, and art on the walls, some of which is OK. Kind of pleasant local things that people unassumingly produce and hang in places like this. It's the antithesis to First Thursday posturing, and there's nothing wrong with that. There's a huge Klimt covering a wall, but for some reason here I'm willing to tolerate it. Maybe that's because you feel quite calm here.

The food looks good, not too expensive. (Well, too expensive for me, but still.) They also have ice cream. Coffee at £1.90 per Americano. Today I got a Latte and it's pretty good. Today there is a new member of staff, who evidently snapped this job up before I got the chance. 'Excuse me, fellow, but I could deliver this Latte even better than yourself, so says I.' I sit in the garden prising open a Derrida book for the first time. Ah, unemployed in the UK - so conveniently excusable in the current climate - just enjoy it.

Far away a young lady prepares to visit the opera: Wagner, I am informed through the modern telegram we know as SMS. In isolation, jealous, I am outside, under the clouds, under an umbrella.

NUC: Yumchaa, Soho

An aimless stroll towards Trafalgar Square took us through Soho, the place where things go wrong, and straight past Yumchaa. "Quaint," said Chris. "Quite," I replied. "Shall we?" "After you." And in we went for tea. Never have we sounded such like an aging couple on holiday.

It's busy in here, and we queue. The queue is necessary in order to take in the vast menu, and make well-informed decisions. The range of teas on offer here would even make General Yen reconsider. Chris goes for a Chilli Chilli Bang Bang. Yes, inventive names come with the teas. Tea is really what's going on here. Loose tea enthusiasts, Yumchaa sell their own teas and have a few Teapigs knocking around for plurality. No PG Tips, though. They also have a good-looking selection of sandwiches and cakes which, of course, I can't afford. The prices are pretty standard for a central London café which makes an effort and has young culturally-inclined professionals as its market. So, fairly reasonable all things considered.

So, what did I get? One of there adventurous tea blends perhaps? Or stick with the coffee? No, something in me compelled me to get a Bottlegreen - ginger with a hint of lemon. So, yes, disappointing. However, tea samples were thrust before me in quick succession and I got pretty high knocking back shots of various blends of which I have since forgotten. For a true cup, I will have to return.

It's airy here, in this pale wooden room. We're in the basement, upstairs was full. If I could move into this basement, I would. It's homey. There are enough different tables and chairs to match the extensive range of teas. For every visit you could sit on a different chair with a different tea - Armchair and Mango Sunrise one week; wooden stool and Lemon Sherbert the next...

The staff care about the tea, and they care about whether you care about the tea. And I care about whether they care about me and the tea, so top marks for the staff. They brew a coffee with the same enthusiasm so coffee drinkers don't be wary.

And what's this? French music. C'est un bel après-midi, chantons!