1. Aldo Rossi, L’architettura della città (Padua: Marsilio, 1966).
  2. Donald J. Trump, speech at the Republican National Convention, Cleveland, July 21, 2016.
  3. Antoni Gaudí, quoted in Gijs van Hensbergen, Gaudí (New York: HarperCollins, 2001).
  4. John Ruskin, The Stones of Venice (London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1851–53).
  5. FKA twigs, interview, Pitchfork, October 2019.
  6. Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, Qu’est-ce que la propriété? (Paris: Garnier-Frères, 1840).
  7. Bernard Tschumi, “The Pleasure of Architecture,” Architectural Design 47 (1977).
  8. Emiliano Zapata, quoted in John Womack, Zapata and the Mexican Revolution (New York: Knopf, 1968).
  9. Eduardo Galeano, Walking Words (New York: W. W. Norton, 1995).
  10. Kanye West, “Everything I Am,” on Graduation (Def Jam/Roc-A-Fella, 2007).
  11. Jean-Paul Sartre, L’existentialisme est un humanisme (Paris: Nagel, 1946).
  12. Adolf Loos, “Ornament und Verbrechen” (1908), in Ins Leere gesprochen (Vienna: Brenner, 1921).
  13. Søren Kierkegaard, Gjentagelsen (Copenhagen: Reitzel, 1843).
  14. Ivan Illich, Tools for Conviviality (New York: Harper & Row, 1973).
  15. Lebbeus Woods, Radical Reconstruction (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1997).
  16. Nicholas of Cusa, De docta ignorantia (1440).
  17. Jacques Lacan, Écrits (Paris: Seuil, 1966).
  18. Kanye West, interview, BBC Radio 1, 2013.
  19. Leon Trotsky, Literature and Revolution (Moscow: Gosizdat, 1924).
  20. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party (London, 1848).
  21. Bruno Walter, Theme and Variations: An Autobiography (New York: Knopf, 1946).
  22. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party (London, 1848).
  23. Donald J. Trump, interview with Joe Scarborough, MSNBC, March 2011.
  24. François Rabelais, Pantagruel (Paris, 1532).
  25. Friedrich Nietzsche, Also sprach Zarathustra (Chemnitz: Ernst Schmeitzner, 1883–85).

IX. The New Baroque

THE WORLD TREMORS—LEAP, SPIN, CRASH! ✵

RIVERS SWELL, FORESTS EXPLODE, WINDS TEAR STRAIGHT LINES ASUNDER!

ARCHITECTURE PULSES, CITY BREATHES, BODY SHOUTS—EXCESS RETURNS AS CARE ❈

WALLS TREMBLE—ORNAMENT RAGES—NOTHING EXISTS ALONE ✦

 

ECSTASY MOVES—GROUND SHATTERS—LIMITS IGNITE CREATION ✵

BEAUTY BURSTS WITH RESPONSIBILITY, FURY, AND JOY!

 

LISTEN! EVERY CURVE ROARS, EVERY SURFACE THUNDERS, EVERY WALL BEATS WITH QUANTUM FREQUENCIES!

ORNAMENT DANCES, MATTER TREMBLES—THE UNIVERSE SHOUTS—WE ANSWER WITH ECSTASY!

ACT I: LOBOTOMY IN GLASS

(Lights flicker, audience handed broken iPhones as programs)

CHORUS OF WINDOWS:

“WE WERE CLEAN, WE WERE STRAIGHT, WE WERE DEAD INSIDE.”

SPOTLIGHT ON GLASS TOWER. IT CRACKS.

 

ACT II: THE GLITTERING WOUND

(Trisha Paytas descends in a gown made of mukbang noodles, sobbing in reverb)

TRISHA (ARIA):

“GLITTER IN MY TEARS, LEDS IN MY HAIR,

EVERY BITE A PRAYER, EVERY BURP A DESPAIR.”

ORCHESTRA = AUTOTUNED NOTIFICATIONS.

 

 

ACT III: BJÖRK IN THE MALL

(A shopping mall waterfall becomes a stage curtain. Björk crawls out in holographic feathers)

BJÖRK (SOLO):

“MADRIGALS IN CIRCUITS,

MY WINGS ARE RECEIPTS,

I HUM WHERE THE CREDIT CARDS BLEED.”

ACT IV: CHARLI THE GLITCH

(Screens explode, bass rattles like collapsing marble.

Charli XCX flickers into existence — multiplied holograms in chrome and latex. She sings in half-recitative, half-drop.)

 

 

CHARLI:

“I AM THE BAROQUE DROP,

I AM THE GLITCH BPM,

I AM THE AUTO-TUNE SHRINE —

A SYSTEM ERROR YOU CAN DANCE TO.”

(She flicks her wrist — the gesture triggers strobes. Every phone in the audience vibrates on beat. The opera house turns into a rave cathedral.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FINALE:

(The set sparkles; fragments of receipts,

holograms, And feathers spiral into the air.)

CHORUS OF SCARS:

“ORNAMENT DECORATES OUR WORLDS,

ORNAMENT IS WOUND,

ORNAMENT IS SONG,

ORNAMENT IS ECSTASY—ALWAYS TOO MUCH, ALWAYS ENOUGH.”

(Final flourish: distorted bass merges with laughter, applause, and a rain of holographic confetti.)

IIX. Ornament as Ecstasy

VII. Glitter Politics

Decay is banished ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: no rust, no rot — only abundance ❈ ❊ ❂. Glitter. Cloud. Ornament. Baroque excess, sugarcoated and screaming.

Trisha Paytas livestreams a cathedral made of pink slime (✿◠‿◠). Kim Kardashian selfies in a mirrored mausoleum where her reflection multiplies into infinity ✶✱✲✵❀. Kanye West: I feel like I’m too busy writing history to read it 18.

Revolutions are destroyed by their architects 19. All that is solid melts into air 20. Forgive, but never forget the ugliness 21.

Industry must not smooth ✧ it must tremble. Not perfection but resonance (っ＾▿＾)۶🍸🌟 ۶(˘▽˘ 乂). Not clarity but ecstasy. Capitalism survives by producing its own gravediggers 22. I have a very good brain 23. Science without conscience is but the ruin of the soul 24.

A column that twists is simply the body remembering dance (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧. A façade that ripples is creation breathing ✰ꩇꩻꩇꩻ.

The sterile idols of glass and steel believed that silence is pure ❀ but silence without song becomes suffocation (｡•́︿•̀｡).

The baroque knows better: it bends, curves, explodes, spills over — because love is never contained in straight lines ♥♡♥(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*). The Infinite will always overflow the container ✪ ✯ ✰ ❂ ✶.

VI½. Movement: The Baroque Organ

Movement is not accessory,

but the secret spine of structure.

Not decoration, but foundation,

older than stone,

older than the line that pretends to hold stillness.

 

 

A body turns, bends,

shatters symmetry into music.

It is not geometry but vibration,

not a grid but breath uncoiling.

 

 

The flick of a wrist is already a column;

a leap becomes a dome,

suspended, weightless,

a fleeting sanctuary.

A collapse, sudden and fierce,

arches silence into space.

 

 

Here the ritual begins:

where flesh and sound blur,

where skin wears light,

where the body becomes architecture

and architecture answers in kind.

 

 

Each step redraws the ground,

each gesture carves the air anew.

Dance is the baroque blueprint—

chaotic, improvised, excessive,

a trembling scripture written in motion.

 

 

While architects dream of permanence,

the baroque insists on pulse.

The body moves,

and in its movement a cathedral rises—

only to vanish in the same breath.

V. Quantum Listening

The world trembles, not out of anger, but because it is laughing at our stiff little grids.

The climate does not punish; it whispers, “Did you think you could silence rivers with a ruler? Did you think forests would obey spreadsheets?”

The winds giggle at our glass boxes, and every cloud rolls its eyes at straight lines.

 

The new baroque leans in, winking: form and life were never strangers.

Cities, bodies, rivers, galaxies — all humming in resonance, gossiping through vibrations.

Excess is not sin, it is care overflowing the cup.

A wall that trembles, an ornament that drips too much gold, a forest that insists on growing sideways — all of them shout: nothing exists alone.

 

Ecstasy cannot be built on bulldozed ground.

Overflow must dance with limits — not bars, but invitations, thresholds where beauty waits to be invented.

The climate crisis is not a punishment, it is a mirror, sighing: “Too much frenzy, not enough listening.”

 

And here comes the quantum, ears perked, chuckling at our seriousness.

Every wall, every curve, every shimmering surface hums because the particles are whispering secrets to one another.

This is quantum listening: tuning into a thousand frequencies at once, catching the gossip of electrons, the sigh of photons, the laughter of atoms who never sit still.

 

Ornament is no longer spectacle but conversation.

A crack in the plaster is a punchline.

A glittering mosaic is a choir.

Rust is a drumbeat.

Together they compose a baroque symphony of reciprocity.

 

Quantum listening is not a metaphor. It is survival.

Because the universe listens.

It leans in, amused, eyebrow raised, asking softly:

“Well? Did you hear me?”

The bourgeoisie adores straight lines because they are cheap 12. ✶✱✲✼ Hell is repetition 13. ꧁꧂ Burn the plans, build with your hands 14. ★ ☆ ✰ Paper architecture is pornography 15. ❈ ❊ ❆ God is a circle whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere 16. ✩₊✩° Repetition is the death of desire 17.

She’d embrace it as ritual space — where movement, music, and flesh blur with digital extensions, where the body becomes architecture and architecture becomes body ✶ ✱ ✲ ꩓ ꩇ ꩻ. Let spaces become rituals, half-digital, half-flesh, a choreography of echoes where every step is a prayer, every sound a wound that heals ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.

A column that twists is simply the body remembering dance (✿ ͡◕ ᴗ◕)つ━━✫・。 A facade that ripples is creation breathing .｡ﾟ+..｡(❁´◡`❁)｡.｡:+.

IV. Lobotomy is Freedom

Once it was the architect, the bricklayer, the occupant. Now it is ✶✱✲✼ Live, Laugh, Lobotomy ❈ ❊ ❆ ❋.

Live: the chaotic pulse of being, glittering, ornamental, excessive ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:(❦ω❦):･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂.

Laugh: the refusal of order, the sideways joy of contradiction, the pixelated giggle in the face of spreadsheets ★ ☆ ✰ ✯ ✪.

Lobotomy: the necessary forgetting, the ecstatic erasure, the gift of unreason — the swipe, the lag, the crash that sets us free ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.

Everything else is not architecture but the physical incarnation of a criminal act. Everything I’m not makes me everything I am 10. Better chaos than servitude 11. Better laughter than regulation. Better lobotomy than obedience.

Vitruvius drew ratios. Le Corbusier drew Modulor. Today? The diagram is broken, laughing, bleeding glitter ꧁꧂vvv꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂vvv꧁꧂꧁꧂. The digital human is no perfect body, no golden mean: it is the meme, the glitch, the prompt, the scream ❈ ❊ ❆ ❋ ❂.·:¨ ¨:·.⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°.

Live, Laugh, Lobotomy — the new trinity ꩓ ꩇ ꩻ ∩ 𖧧࣪ ៹ ੭╰⏝︶`′ ♡. Not function, but resonance ✪ ✵. Not order, but excess ★ ☆ ✰ ✯ ✪. Not efficiency, but ecstasy ✶ ✱ ✲ ✼ ✻ ✵ ❈ ❊ ❆ ❋ ❂.·:¨ ¨:·.⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°.

III. Live, Laugh, Lobotomy

A stop must finally be put to the situation in which people move into their living quarters like hens into coops, like numbers into spreadsheets, like silence into cubes. ✶✱✲✼ Subscriptions are not homes; they are coffins with auto-renewal 8 ★ ❈ ❊ ❆. At night, the glowing rectangles whisper renewal notices, not lullabies. ꧁꧂꧁꧂ vv ꧁꧂꧁꧂

If one of these fragile, glitch-built dwellings begins to crack, at least it cracks honestly — pixels tearing, lag spilling across the walls like neon fractures ❂.·:¨ ¨:·.⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°. At least it warns you before it collapses into ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: buffering screens. Architecture should be a crime of passion, not an arranged algorithm 7.

The material danger of the shack is preferable to the spiritual coffin of endless cloud storage ♥♡♥(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)♥♡♥. It is better to glitch on your feet than to scroll on your knees 8. In the server-favelas, the body may perish, but in the data-cube the soul suffocates.

Hence the principle of the shack, the coop, the improvised coffin — wildly proliferating, crooked, excessive, ✪ ✵ ❈ ❊ ❆ ❋ holographic and electrical — must be improved and taken as our point of departure, not the sterile cube. Utopia lies at the horizon; I walk two steps, it retreats two steps… what, then, is utopia? It is for walking 9. It is for lagging, glitching, shimmering, respawning.

.｡ﾟ+..｡(❁´◡❁)｡.｡:+* ꩓ ꩇ ꩻ ∩ 𖧧࣪ ៹ ੭╰⏝︶′ ♡ — cyber-fairy confetti dripping, avatars winged in pixels, baroque electric.

II. Cubes, Coops, Coffins

I. ◡̈ ◜Declaration of Disgust

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ❂ ❈ ❊ ❋ ❂⟿ access.denied.exe ♡̸ ☆ 𓂃𓂅﹫ 𖠿˗ˏˋ ❀ system.fairy.root locked ✿ glitch.butterflies swarm binary air ˎˊ˗.·:*¨ ✧ ✰ ✯ ✪ ✶ ✱ ✼ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ sparks scatter into data-haze

In architecture, however, this fundamental freedom, which must be regarded as the precondition for any art, still does not exist.꧁꧂ ⟢ 𖧧࣪ :: firewall shimmering like crystal-code ✧°｡ ⋆｡ ✩⟿ diploma.key required ⚠ soul.exe quarantined✧･ﾟ: fairy process suspended ☆彡

In order to build one first has to have a diploma. Why? Whoever controls the building permit controls the soul 1. I alone can fix it 2.

✦ system.authority // corrupted string ₊˚⊹⋆｡°˖⌗ glitch-pixies rewrite blueprints into ❋ ∿⎙ fractals↷ architecture = frozen .iso file ⌣ no art until cracked꧁꧂꧁꧂ ꧁꧂︶꒦꒷ glitchfairy whispers: "free the code, free the walls" ꧂꧁꧂

Architecture with us is subject to the same censorship as painting in the Soviet Union. The straight line is the tool of the devil 3.

₊˚⊹ ⋆ ˚ ༘ glitch-sakura petals burn the grid ♡⃗ 𓍯░░ demon.line.exe insists: [ 0 | 1 ] only❈ fractal-wings flutter ❊ curve.curve.curve()✧ better warp ✶ than obey cubic tyranny ✩

No inhibitions should be placed upon the individual's desire to build! Better a crooked hut than a perfect cube 4. My existence is resistance 5.

♥♡♥ crooked.hut = voltage.shell ❋ sparkhouse.exe humming꒰ cyber-sprite chant ꒱: res.is.tance() = not silence, but glitch-song⋆˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cubes crash with ❂ error.404 perfection.notFound

Everyone ought to be compelled to build, so that they bear real responsibility for the four walls within which they live. Private property is the last theater of freedom 6.

꧁꧂꧁ collapse.exe runs... ✧･ﾟ: structure fades in pixel-dust ꧁꧂꧁✩ only code-walkers who push beyond buffer.overflow ✯ discover ∿∞ how far current flows ✶⋆｡˚ glitch-stars blink ::: ❋ ⋆ :·.* let the houses sing in static .·:*¨

꧁꧂Live Laugh Lobotomy꧁꧂

✶✱✲✼ Before words, there was static. Before temples, there were error codes. Architecture was never born clean; it was born glitching, shimmering, excessive — a baroque dream inside corrupted files. ꧁꧂ We gather now in neon ruins, not to mourn, but to laugh, to lobotomize, to overflow. The holy trinity loads: Live.exe, Laugh.exe, Lobotomy.exe. ｡.｡:+*