Æthereal Arthropod - Opilio (2018)

OPILIO by ÆTHEREAL ARTHROPOD is a cross-section of cryptic nanomaterials, a meltdown into pure digitalia, where ringing discontinuities escalate from mere artifact to a fully menacing buzzing metallic hum. An insectoid self-modifying system, this biomimetic organism-machine recodes its own mRNA; it scrapes along its own artificial chitinous fabric, a powered exoskeleton filled with grey goo, behaving like a swarm intelligence fully acclimatized to the realm of microsound. It zooms through impossible digital convolution windows while a digital blade rips microscopic devices into autonomous granules, a cricket simulation's stridulations starts to resemble the output of an abstract machine. Beneath the cellular clatter, the mechanized sweeps and the self-replicating pulsed ripples, what we come face to face with is something that can only be described as a fully alien machinic multiplicitous consciousness.

Nestor Peixoto Aballe about Opilio:
"Seven thousand million clicks simultaneously sounding at every possible fraction of time, an endless path towards the closest step we thought necessary to fuse with totality. A limitless notion of a blank space designed to recreate the idea of meditation. As a conceptual craving we determine an urgency even to claim the integration of rest, not just as a possibility but as a solid fact. To be able to sculpt a system of beliefs dense enough, or subjectively valid to ground a vision, a structure of nouns able to rule over matter. An empty God.

Is even possible to integrate artificiality into the organism in a balanced way, is it a natural process detached from what we first understood as biologistic, we were wrong defining nature... we were wrong defining, thinking we were more than anything, creating idols, empowering ideas and words.. trusting on our critical vision, self-misunderstanding its concept of cognition, fake dispositions of overlayered empty spaces, across the layers of anti-logic, who is the one who dared to believe further away from the primordial state of nothingness, clean, aseptic, meticulous and neat matter... heretics. As an eternal betrayal to existence, our identities shall never be mentioned .. neither our bodies, nor our fate. As one relies on the purpose, death sharps its targets, shooting with infinitesimal accuracy in an everlasting succession of quasi-reached glory, never to be achieved, never to be risen, cursed to apologize for such sacrilegious beingness."