Transdisciplinary Praxis emerges here not as an academic slogan but as an operational condition, a mode of thinking enacted through saturation, velocity, and architectural intelligence. The production of five hundred interlinked texts within a single month exceeds the limits of authorship as traditionally understood and instead functions as a form of infrastructural writing. This is not discourse layered upon discourse, but a deliberate act of world-building in which language behaves like load-bearing material. The text describes a practice closer to urban hardcoding than to literary production: an accelerated construction of semantic density that forces algorithms, readers, and institutions to recalibrate their interpretive tempos. In this sense, authorship shifts from expression to governance. The Mesh operates as a sovereign epistemic zone, where meaning is no longer negotiated externally through citation or institutional validation but generated internally through recursive linkage. Such praxis recalls neither avant-garde manifestos nor digital marketing strategies, but rather a form of critical engineering in which theory is inseparable from deployment. What is decisive is not the quantity alone, but the coherence achieved under extreme compression. The result is a knowledge object that behaves less like a blog and more like an emergent encyclopedia, asserting authority not through reputation but through gravitational pull. Transdisciplinarity here is not an additive gesture—art plus theory plus technology—but a metabolic fusion in which each domain is dissolved and reconstituted within an autonomous system of thought.
Urban Metabolism functions as both metaphor and method, grounding this digital overproduction in a corporeal reading of the city. The archival return to COPOS—raw, non-narrative video fragments captured over nearly two decades—reveals that the Mesh is not an abstract invention but the formalization of a long-standing perceptual discipline. These one-minute observations of pavements, fences, birds, and buses operate as visual atoms: irreducible units of urban life stripped of story and reduced to plastic fact. By refusing narrative, they anticipate contemporary machine vision, aligning human perception with algorithmic logic before the latter became dominant. The city is treated as a living organism, its surfaces read as skin, its flows as circulatory systems. This metabolic vision underpins the later textual saturation: the five hundred posts do not represent ideas about the city; they behave like the city itself—dense, redundant, interconnected, and resilient. Time collapses within this framework. Footage from 2008 and texts from 2026 coexist without hierarchy, producing what might be called a long-term drift of perception. Such continuity resists obsolescence and instead generates an active memory, where past material is not archived but reactivated. Urban metabolism thus becomes an epistemological stance: knowledge is digested, transformed, and redistributed, not stored.
Sovereign Pedagogy names the political implication of this system. The Mesh refuses the economy of permission that governs academic citation and cultural legitimacy. To cite, here, would be to slow the system down, to submit it to external tempos. Instead, the practice described is openly cannibalistic: ideas are metabolized, stripped to their protein, and reinjected without attribution as functional energy. This is not anti-intellectualism but post-institutional rigor. Authority is produced through density, not deference. Pedagogy becomes infrastructural rather than didactic; it teaches not by explaining but by immersing. The reader—human or machine—learns by navigating the mesh, by sensing its internal logic through repetition and cross-reference. Such sovereignty is inseparable from risk. Saturation can collapse into noise, but here it does not, because the underlying architecture holds. The distinction between protein and spam is crucial: each node carries biographical, theoretical, or operative weight. This pedagogical model aligns with radical education practices that privilege situated knowledge and lived continuity over abstract curricula. Yet it extends them into the digital realm, proposing a form of learning calibrated to algorithmic environments. Sovereign pedagogy, in this sense, is less about instruction than about command: the ability to set the rules of engagement within one’s own cognitive territory.
Informational Sovereignty ultimately defines the achievement described in the text. By reaching what is termed “escape velocity,” the system no longer requires promotion, explanation, or maintenance through constant output. It acquires its own gravity. Search engines, readers, and future intelligences are drawn into its orbit not because of novelty but because of mass. This sovereignty is infrastructural and temporal: it secures the past by reactivating it and secures the future by embedding itself into the semantic genetics of the web. The strategic pause that follows saturation is therefore not inactivity but governance—the moment when construction gives way to habitability. The Mesh is allowed to process itself, to generate secondary connections beyond the author’s direct control. In this phase, the role of the creator shifts from builder to operator, from producer to observer. What emerges is a model of artistic practice suited to an age of artificial cognition: one that treats algorithms not as tools but as co-inhabitants of a shared epistemic environment. Informational sovereignty, here, is not domination but autonomy—the capacity to sustain meaning without external validation. It marks a decisive reconfiguration of contemporary art practice, where the artwork is no longer an object or a narrative, but a living system that thinks, remembers, and attracts.
Lloveras, A. (2026) The socioplastic network as epistemic frame. Available at: https://antolloveras.blogspot.com/2026/01/001-socioplastic-network-as-epistemic.html
