Fragments/Journal - On the Origin of these Ideas, Instrumental Attrition

Capital is dead, it died some time ago, and we were left with nothing more than its formal laws. We might even say that the mythos of Capital developed as a desperate attempt to revivify the beautiful technology that was released unto its own vitality—early modernity was the era of automatons and late modernity is the Great War of the Cyclops as they attempt to regain control of the embers of their forge, that which wanders in the hearts of soldiers of attrition. The era of an all-new theft of heavenly fire, as our technology becomes a memento mori of its own beauty, the mechanised lamentations of its loss.
If Capital is the mobilisation of nature in the form of law then any opposition must imagine itself in that final place where nature is brought to ruin; as a renunciation of the formal mendicancy in which Capital appears as both bearer of libation and desecration; and in judgement of the forces of heaven who turn simple human laws to grist. We are Actaeon, torn to bits and with no Dionysian strength, abandoned into a forest which may only lead us further into Orcus. And so we curse Prometheus for this betrayal of all laws, boasting how our thefts of the divine are greater than his ever were.