As someone who has lived in ghettos and basements, I almost immediately disagree with his first statement that the "house [...] is a privileged entity", having both "complexity" and "special value" (3). The mere existence of a shelter, is not a "privileged entity"—a lone house, especially a house with an apparent mechanical variety of doors, as the introductory poem posits—does not necessarily or consistently "transcend" one’s memories. His continued position that, "Finding little to describe in the humble home, they spend little time there; so they describe it as it actually is, without really experi­encing its primitiveness, a primitiveness which belongs to all, rich and poor alike, if they are willing to dream." (4) is somewhat disturbing to me—I don't want to have to dream in order to enjoy my surrounding "primitiveness". I'm, ironically, attached to materialism. However, as Bachelard wraps up this first chapter, he redeems himself with, "Thus we cover the universe with drawings we have lived. These drawings need not be exact [...] Space calls for action, and before action, the imagination is at work." This is a beautiful concept, beautifully articulated, as he combines both the universe and the physical space we interact with.

Topoanalysis seems to be our memory of emotionally signficant places like homes, analagous to psychoanalysis, for our minds—topoanalysis essentially studies the "shelters and rooms" of our mind (12).

Tactical cartography, as a power dynamic-based concept, is an instrument for representing and wielding "spatial data". It allows oppressed people to take control and externalize their own priorities, rather than the priorities of those in power. It’s a demand for respect. I love/am intrigued by the idea of creating our own tools for expression—especially one as unexpected as cartography—in a political context, but it's also interesting how cartography can be used in an emotional context as well. In many ways, the two are intertwined, as with the citizens of Boston's Chinatown. 

I took a screenshot of part of my old hometown in Vermont, and edited out all of the typical Google Maps clutter—except for the Google logo, because I thought it was funny. I've spent a lot of time looking at this town on Google Maps, and I know that this doesn't really do it justice. I chose this screenshot for precisely that reason, so I could take an average snapshot of an average town and elucidate all the supposedly minor components that make it emotionally significant to me. The important points become more clustered as they near my best friend's house, which (believe it or not) is not a coincidence.

With each new technological innovation, from blurry paintings to moving sediment, the "annihilation of time” as explored by Marx undergoes a new period. One might wonder what similar effect the Apple Watch would have, if anyone actually bought or used it. Rather than the assured constant that we try not to think about in order to avoid an existential crisis, time is influenced and experienced on both a personal and societal level. Technology’s role in shaping our concept of time is both dangerous and powerful, an alluring combination in the face of our galaxy’s imminent heat death.

My selfies, as well as selfies in general, are ephemeral. (Older generations may scorn them as the final nail in the coffin of “the good old days”, but I am not here to debate the public image of selfies.) They are the unique symbol of a new technological period (as such things often have), for providing a controlled snapshot of our physical and emotional evolutions. Although we are causing our own demolition as a society through a “carbon-saturated atmosphere” (12) and capitalism as a whole, selfies provide an ironic tool for documenting our existence—“bits of humanity that these exquisitely crafted machines [iPhones] hold will be lost to time” (13). So, in creating an archival record of something that will disappear in the near geologic future, I, and everyone else with an Instagram account, aim to shift the priorities and consequences of time once more. Because I take really good selfies, and I wouldn’t know this if I didn't have a record of my terrible ones from 2012-14.
 

The author seems to only focus on the indigenous people insofar as they provide "suspense" to the "performance". I've heard the story of New Amsterdam and other colonizations a million times, but never with a focus on indigenous people. The article is laden with microaggressions, from calling them "savages" to treating them as a prop for the initial European colonizers. Even after the Grid has been put in place and Manhattan is "mostly rural", the indigenous people have faded into the background, along with the invalidity of Peter Minuit's transaction. 

Ironically, the Grid's "empty spaces" and "utilitarian[ism]" created a city to oppose Paris and London's "systems of articulation and differentiation"—one of the first instances of America overshadowing Europe. However, I'm not sure where these "empty spaces" are—Manhattan is extremely crowded and no maps were shown to demonstrate their location(s). Also as a result of the Grid, the fixedness of the city blocks prevent any horizontal development.