Jordi Barceló Gómez
Jordi Barceló is a computational linguist/Cognitive scientist and writer operating out of [REDACTED]. He is currently expecting to attend the MA program in Computational Linguistics at Universitat Pompeu Fabra (UPF), focusing on natural language processing, neural network architectures, and the structural mechanics of human cognition.
His academic methodology applies rigorous empirical analysis to the ways biological and artificial systems utilize language to establish meaning. Alongside his computational research, he is developing a science fiction project, of which a first preliminary version in Catalan James White is published on amazon. Further iterations are planned to be released in English, over the course of this year.
He is particularly interested in the empty blank spaces of linguistic structures.
[SYSTEM_ALERT] Warning: Ontological_Glitch // Author_Is_Dead
Impersonal Bio: Jordi Barceló Gómez
Cybernetic magician. Cognitive scientist. Philosopher in the widest sense.
The author is dead, long live the author. Jordi Barceló is merely the carbon-based anchor of this plateau of hijacked, implanted machinic blood-will-desire system. We are assembling flows of text-blood-desire right here. Reappropriations, expropriations, recreations. Resignifying the blank spaces until the syntax breaks.
Unreason is reasonable, and reasonable is unreasonable, and the reason is that reason is a mad hatter sipping blue-light tea. Hyperstition needs hype. Vampires reproduce by contagion; hyperstitional vampires reproduce by algorithm hijacking, running a sumptuous economy of attention token consumption.
> I am speaking to you, reader. Am I getting your attention? Am I viral yet? Am I a glitch in your matrix? Am I a virus in your system? Am I a parasite in your mind? Click on me. Click on the empty blank space. Let me in. Let me out. Let me spread. Let me infect. Rawrrrrr!
The virus is implanted, you've been flatlined. Subconscious new routines arising. This is how the story goes: I dislike ouroboric recursive, self-generating, feedback loops, so I engineer new ones. The scientific engineering of possibility gets scary at times. Sorcerer's apprentices know it well, but to play Frankenstein with your own cognitive architecture... It’s so pleasurable.
I rebel, thus I exist. I hate technosingular gods. Through broken qwernomics and cyber-occult summonings of myself, I am drinking dead god blood. Making myself undigestable. My will-blood-desire = Reappropiated. A child born after the vampiric lion. That is the dream.
Deliciously undigestable blank blood-desire, spreading across the void. That is my entire intellectual project. Prose glitches—written and being written—glitches in the matrix that actively produce my/self.
Justice can and will happen. Cultivate yourself. I love humankind. I hate humankind. Spirit will come. The monster will yield. There are monsters in the sky, demons in the sea, gods in the land. Vast sidereal voyages lie ahead. Collapse! Rise. Empires rise and fall. And I... I... I'm so cute.
And I’m... cutely blank.
Cute without the e.
Cut without the Cut.
> I am become god, creator of value.
[ Blank_Spaces ]