Vats and tanks of fermented bacteria line the walls like a well stocked convenience shop. Each concession stand carefully paired with a small family of specialist tending to an odd array of fibres and foods, a Fermentation Lot like this would usually pop up in any vacancy or space, but this one drew a particular crowd of traders and makers.
Biont traders swarm the daily inventory dashboard with their empty containers and carrier bags of small metals from salvaged devices. The large florescent interface from the dashboard mixed with bundles of grow lights woven throughout the open lab flicker against the Bionts as they jostle next to each other and attempt to log what’s available. The dash flashes ‘Horologium Flora’ and in fine print below a protocol of how the ‘flower clock’ works is detailed.
In the 1700s Carl Linnaeus wrote about alternative time telling – a clock made up of flowering plants that open and close given the time of day. He called it Horologium Flora because each species is said to go through its own circadian rhythm by preparing at night for sleep.
Pair your device to the dashboard
Return seeds to the seed library
A familiar voice steadily repeats the daily inventory…
Grades of plant root from @Materialbank
Hedges of micro fibres from @fibreshed
Folds of Streptomyces coelicolour from @faberfutures
In one corner of the room a 10ft loom interlocking strings like a spider presses the vertices of its web together procedurally. Quickly printing a long sheath, this one must have been from the late 1900s because it was still made of wood. As if it was breathing the specialist checks the material as it cascades from the contraption, pulling it gently on to a table in the lab and further evaluating it's symptoms. Another vendor simultaneously takes 1 metre to patch a reclaimed jacket with something that strangely resembled cotton.
Two Bionts move through the space, in tandem, towards the booth...
: do you think Modernity coming?
: leaves rustle only when the wind passes through them and the sound of cars are beginning to seem foreign
: a lot like the latent space between a butterfly fluttering
: what nature is to science, faith is to fashion
: grabbing anything thing today?
: nope, I'll pass by the lab and trade for tokens
Recipes for tomorrow (RFT)
Anything from meat textures, insect proteins, and open source seeds, RFT is an illustrated collection of 3D printed foods following some of the most obscure and novel ingredients in food sciences available to us. Inspired by endangered or unsustainable practices that mark a strange shift in past and future foods. It's become more than what we consume– today the performance of food is sacred to some and less important to othersAnd while the kitchen aid was once a large scale industrial machine made compact and easy to use for the everyday kitchen, what happens when the 3D printer makes its way into appliances?
On their way to a Fermentation Lot, residents of a small pod collect remnants; scraps of gold and other metals from discarded devices to be sold.
Warding off Dwellers during a slow migration, these savvy repairist trade in tarot and other tinctures.
Definition: Internet communities that have disincentivized individual attention-seeking and prioritized communal or pair bonding. The oxyweb is spatially unbound – communities might live as niches on mainstream social networks, as parasites hijacking other groups’ platforms, or as exit-driven networks with self-hosted infrastructure. The term oxyweb is derived from the ‘love hormone’ oxytocin, and is united only by its opposition to the use of dopamine exploiting behavioural tricks and design patterns in advertising-driven mainstream social platforms.
The swelter of salt
Haneul checking the machinery that would absorb 500 atmospheres of pressure 5 kilometres below the ocean's surface where air cavities in living things are crushed and proteins fold in on themselves. The piezolytes printed into the vessel's carbon skin would help stabilize the thing down there, but make it reek of thick wet fish. The marine engineering unit calls it Jijneun.
Trawling the trench for manganese nodules, kicking up iron ores the size of walnuts. Thermal vents superheating the water without boiling it from the pressure. Extremophile life forms metabolizing heat gradients at vent lips lined with the richest ores. Extremophiles, metals, and mining equipment that smells like dead fish – that's all that's down there.
Not even dead matter – those bits of captured sun glinting slower and slower down the ocean’s trophic cascade until the oppressively heavy nothing of the bottom stops the few carbon molecules left. Just the howling of the vessel as it scrapes the bottom.