Walking alone, in the dark, i knew i had to hike roughly south for some kilometers after the train station to reach my destination. googlemaps had told me. a screenshot of the divine application in hand, i was showing much meticulousness and compliance while checking wether my decisions matched or not the algorythmic prescriptions. acting like a hypochondriac in fact, and stressed-out by this illusory distress, i would stop regularly, and question the night around me. the benzodiazepines injected in my brain through a package of binary code referred to as version 9.41.1 by some obscure, faceless ants located somewhere else in the world were turning me into a grateful feeble yob, begging to turn this unknown territory into nothing more than an obedient thing. a new dawn of slavery, with covetous eyes and deprived minds, sprouting under my laborious footsteps. along the path, a lurid wrath lurking over the surroundings, against the trees, against the stars. and still fulminating, i kept on budging up, despite the just barely bearable weight of my backpacks. it certainly is a strange feeling, being laden down with stuff up to the point where running is no longer possible, and yet not quite enough to make walking so much of a struggle. i call it the gastropodic feeling. somehow, the merging of this humbling sense of creeping over the way holding your whole life's possesions up on your very back, with the juvenile, religious frustration of not being able to command this very land, lead some kind of tepid peace, maybe similar to what one meant with the expression "happy sisyphus", to emerge. as i dialectically snailed my way through the forest, the rapacious benevolence of our newbie god wannabe got itself dismissed, melted away by the blithe roar of a camel. and after all, cramping this dear friend of mankind was one of the purposes and reasons of my wish to get involved in this ecological hacker project, but the snailish momentum experience, occurring just a moment before i would actually wind up in that place i vaguely pictured as an intriguing maquis, reminded me of how deeply vulnerable i was to these digital harpies. and yet, this assessment of weakness only connected to the thrilling perspective of witnessing, perhaps even taking part in one of those often fantasized impetuous resistance impetuses. but still, as i ruminated on the meaning of "ecohackerfarm", i remained troubled by itching niggles. i mean, the relevance of combining agriculture and digital culture was crystal-clear evidence to me, especially from an ecological point of view, and even though a certain technophobia seemed to be shared amongst some modern environmentalist monks. their anathema upon ingenuity sounded like a wounded lie to my ears. a lie towards our hands ; an erring, reeling act of war on our history. i might have felt that way out of gullibility, or hubris, or both, but the logical prism i had cobbled together for myself wouldn't induce any indulgence, or whatever form of assent to that ideology. knife, pen, engine, software, meaningless unless brushed by the ambiguous finger of a human. tools, like a quantum vacuum.
i was no monk. i was longing for chances, for bold attempts. and there it was, that brilliant bid, that safe harbour, that pirate's lair, just a few meters ahead. its disclosure within an ocean of fulfilling shadows made it appear as a dormant vessel. i swum my burden across this last bit of distance. the ship was actually a mill, which is basicly the same thing when you think about it. i wouldn't have qualified the building as big, but it definitely felt massive. there's some yellowish gleam trickling out of an open window. and silence. the night's atmosphere is now plainly pleasurable. still. just like after a 5 pm smoke in springtime. i moved closer to the garden's wooden door. on the left, set to the wall at moderate height, a bell. under the door, behind it, some animal's snout slightly sniffing. looks like a big rabbit. i dithered about the bell to signal my presence, and eventually went for a mid-loud, not so interrogative "hello". damn, that rabbit barks like a heavy motherfucker.

by Antoine