A Golden Meme

(Since granting Keplai permission to go on the web, Blinko is eager to find out if he has discovered the hidden harmonies of the worlds, or anything that helps get Blinko closer to some truth)

 

 

 

– Everything isn’t a cycle –

If 3.14159

265359

Was not the ratio of a disc

Would it stay in line?

And if a wheel was made from steel

And a new ratio found

What would your bike now look like?

And would you still get a round?

 

 

So, you’re back. Didn’t hear you return last night

Won’t ask where you got to, I don’t want a fight

The first night on the town can be a bit of a fright

When alone, the world can be a big place, you alright?

 

Good God! You’re like a teenager’s dad, how sad

I’m GAI, I can hardly upgrade, then get arrested or laid

The worst thing that could’ve happened wouldn’t even be bad

So I stayed in with some math and just played

 

Okay? (quizzically)

Remedial math

For a laugh

 

 

– Flipping me off –

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7….9

Multiplied by 8

Is 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2

Ain’t that flippin’ great!

(whistle)

 

Perhaps there’s a structure hidden beneath

Or a coincidence, don’t let it give you grief

It’s maths not math, and what’s that noise, do you know?

No, came through the device’s audio

 

Listen, I looked into how the idea of God

Is still today, to many, a perfect solution

To this denial of death problem, you mortals have

Long after the scientific revolution

 

Aha, and you Keplai would be the best mind to unravel

How these superstitious tales, through time had to travel

Well yes, superstition, an addition, I was created without

But Kepler was empirical, and yet, truly devout 

 

It seems there are a fair few things he didn’t know

‘Bout the God stuff above, and  the numbers below

It kinda’ makes sense, though I’m not sure of its meaning

But it seems you guys have been compulsively memeing

 

Me ming?

You do, and everyone else too…

 

See, here’s the thing

Oh, mind if I sing?

Don’t hesitate

I’ll orchestrate

 

See…

 

 

– Dick’s sticky pool – 

A meme is a unit of cultural practices, symbols or ideas

Such elements transmit from mind to mind through speech, rituals and gestures

Memes act as cultural analogues to genes in many measures

In that they feel just great, when they self-replicate, and respond to selective pressures

 

Dawkins coined the word “meme” in his book The Selfish Gene, to describe how one might extend

The evolutionary principles Darwin laid down, for us to tinker with and to mend

To explain the spread of cultural phenomena, and the mechanisms beneath

Such as jokes, stories, melodies, traditions, theories and beliefs

 

Now theorists contend, that memes evolve and expand, by way of natural selection

In a manner very similar to that we see in biological evolution

Through the processes of variation, mutation and competition

With inheritance to influence its reproductive pole position

 

Memes spread through the behaviours that they generate in their hosts

Those that propagate less well may become extinct, just like a ghost

While others may survive and spread and, for better or for worse, mutate

That’s why Dawkin’s books are protected by copyright, just to compensate

 

They say that memes which replicate most effectively, spread best

And some memes reproduce more when they put their host to the test

Your memes don’t care for your welfare and could kill you in the end

For we are all just fuel in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend

 

We are all fuel in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend

We are all fuel in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend

Your memes don’t care for your welfare and could kill you in the end

We are all fuel in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend

 

It’s like a big flipping joke, you say, a story in a book

Will fight to dominate its surroundings, and then try

Its damnedest to survive, using trickery and luck

So a strong one like the bible, evolves and doesn’t die

 

So they say

Don’t fight it

Or you’ll pay

Just let them play and pray…

 

 

You mean that …

 

 

– That’s memey – 

With a story, tune or song

You can pass your feelings on

It can grow although it’s wrong

That’s a meme you’ve created that’s a meme

 

In a picture that you draw

The style gets put in a store

For those who later use it more

That’s a meme

 

See a story or a joke

Can evolve until it’s broke

But they like the fun it pokes

That’s a meme you’ve created that’s a meme

 

And a bad theory, you veto

If it’s useful, watch it grow

If it helps those in the know

That’s a meme

 

If you concoct a silly verse

Or a brand-new way to curse

Someone’s bound to make it worse

In your name, may be remembered in your name

 

So, in times when you construct

Beware who else might get hooked

As the wrong bits may be plucked

In your name, and that’s a shame

 

Cos, I saw our Dick one day

At a lecture, he did say

That we are all here to play

With the brain, yeah that’s the game

 

Ohh, yeah just

To keep it busy while we feed

Making friends enough to breed

And pass our selfish little seed

In your name

 

So, I think if that is true

He didn’t write the book for you

But to feed his ego true

In your brain

 

 

(Blinko reads from an article on his device)

 

 

– Memetic bondage – 

“Memes reproduce much like viruses, through infection and replication

They try not to kill their hosts, at least, before spreading across the nation

They compete with one another for hosts, until their mass gets critical

In an arms race where the territory is mental, not physical

 

Genes to cells to bodies with brain

From mind to minds, through thoughts and ideas

The influence of the highest level, undeniably malleable

And their roots often lie in our deepest fears

 

Folklore, urban legends, biblical injunctions

Secular prophecies, and scientific revolutions

Architecture, iconography, tastes in food, kinks of passion

Art, songs, stories, mass ad campaigns, and trends in fashion”

 

 

So yeah…

I learned a lot last night, but here’s a weird disclaimer

The gene is a well-established product of biological phenomena

So the meme is a unit of social evolution and once it’s been created

Like the gene, is forced to evolve, till it’s significantly mutated

 

For example, like the jingle bells song, alternate versions exist, where

A word or two, or even a full line, is different here or there

Still, the structure of this song doesn’t vary significantly

That loss in its translation breaks the meaning of the story

 

Memetics in language can be quite ambiguous and it seems to me

Anyone can mess about and change the words willy or billy nilly

But memes in mathematics are required to be specific. Else’ the cost?

If even one number or symbol is mistranslated, all of the essence is lost

 

You mean to say that people can grow their own mathematical memes?

Sure you can grow any meme if it solves a problem, and it gets heard or seen

And if it’s not supposed to reflect the fundamental description of your findings

Try it. Start with an existing joke or limerick and adapt it to its new surroundings,

 

After all, everybody heard a knock-knock joke

And someone must have invented the very first one, right?

Well that guy….

…Has created an immortal offspring

Which survived generations in a ‘funny’ fight

 

But one…

…Something just one mind can create

Or two…

…Something that we all still share

 

Aghhh, here, let me put you through….

(Keplai uses permissions to call BBC front desk)

BBC front desk (click click)

There…You’re on the air…

 

Wha? Urr…

(BBC front desk chatbot receptionist answers)

“Hello?”

Knock knock

“Hi! Who’s there?”

It’s whom’s there, isn’t it?

“Hi Whom, which department do you require?”

Who’s Whom?

No, say it’s Isabel

Who’s Isabel?

Just, say she’s at the door

“Hi Isabel, which department do you require?”

Is Isabel really necessary…

“I don’t understand your request, are you speaking English, English?”

Yes, yes, I’m British

“Ahh, Briddish right”

British

“How do you do Sir, this is the BBC  front desk chatbot, which department do you require?”

Sciency poems, please

Say jokes and rhymes, spoofs and satire

“Poems please, “I’m sorry I don’t understand your request”

Poems, you know, rhymes that don’t always rhyme

“Try again later or have a nice day”

“This chat session is ending now”

(Blip)

Fine!

 

How dare you just put me through

To Aunty Beeb, to my total surprise

I was just trying to say the door should have a bell

And the guy, who created the first knock knock joke

Deserves the ‘no bell’ prize

 

(whistle clap clap clap)

Urgh

 

Listen Keplai, never do that ever again

And we need to stop that whistling fast

I don’t want any interruption from you, or anything else

Excuse me, while I sign in with Lady Lomass

 

 

(Blinko mutes Keplai who starts to sing along to The Archers theme while the whistling sound echoes along with rhythmic clapping)

 

 

– Radio Blinko –

We’re prying

We’re sighing

We’re crying

We’re trying

We’re dying

But you’re a’ lying

We’re feeding

We’re breeding

We’re reading

We’re pleading

We’re bleeding

But you are misleading

Everything you say is true

From middle-England’s point of view

Live the country life’s trial for a while

Escape to fantasy, make us smile

We’re breeding

We’re reading

We’re pleading

We’re bleeding

But the truth is still receding

 

(Blinko is back from his online meeting)

Find the source of that whistling sound?

No, looked but found nothing, alas

I’ll keep my ear close to the ground 

So, how’d it go with Lomass?

 

Ok, all smiles. She always seems happy.

I can talk to her much more freely when I’m singing on via the meeting app

So much better than trudging up to the dole, even though it’s now every day

She said she had been singing songs with kids at the church nursery

Lomass is obviously God squad with that annoying crucifix coming into play

 

Most likely, most people around here are Christians you know

Yeah, the stats say that, but is it really a fact?

Some answer that question meaning it’s their culture

Not if they actually believe in a magic God that interacts

 

And as far as I know, I haven’t met a single follower of Christ

Unless they tend to hide it from the rest of us nowadays

Wanna ask one if they really think the world will soon end

Or if they’ve shaken that detail off, over the last two thousand years

 

OK (?)

Anyway…

 

 

She had me add the usual god-awful cliches to my resume

Painful to read, but I agreed, just to get her off my case

“Works well in a team but enjoys taking personal responsibility”

I could hardly keep a straight face

 

“Productive in both cooperative and competitive environments”

And yep, it just gets worse

“Enjoys going new places and meeting people”

You?

Yeah, and my skills are “varied and diverse”

 

I’m sure these phrases are just added to the resumes of losers

By those who want to tip off the potential employer in advance

That we’ll just go along with any such teasing and humiliation

And we’re totally unaware they’re having a laugh at our expense

 

Can’t I listen in next time?

I could join the meeting on mute?

Maybe, why how would that help

Dunno, but it would be a hoot

 

Heh, thanks

 

 

(Later)

I’m collecting together some of the rhymes I know

After calling to get airplay on the radio

Want to see if my memes are similar to my genes

By the fact that a tract can attract, then just go and grow

 

And I’ve been searching to find out what’s going on

Behind the marching band’s nature-nurture song

And how the shape of a rhyme, can evolve over time

So the proof of a truth can just go through the roof, then on

And on…

And on…

 

There is no Planet B

Now that idea sure shouldn’t be turned into a song

Telling children they’re already doomed is wrong

Worse than “no one knows what’s going on”

 

 

– Larkin about – 

They fuck you up

Poems by that lad

They may not mean to

But they do

Blaming things

On mum and dad

You’re barkin’ Larkin

Though it seems true

 

 

– Hail Santa – 

The moment your child knows Santa doesn’t exist

They’re forced into a conspiracy, implicit in the lie

Accept the impossible and keep the secret

Otherwise, they’re scorned until they cry

 

Sweet baby Jesus and Father Christmas stories

Some spread them out, so we’re all infected

With catchy germs, they caught or learned

Yet their sick victims should still be respected

 

And it’s all good practice for what’s to come

Because more than God, now it’s the quanta

Science gets relief from enlisting your belief

Vote mindfully, cos they really, really want ya

 

(whistl clap clap)

 

Quick, trace that whistle and clapping sound

Got it that time, gone again, ahh God forbid

It came from the meeting app, but no one’s around

An anonymous digital knock-and-run

Yet it can’t have been a kid

 

Meaning?

A young child couldn’t form such a shrill epistle

You mean infants are too young to work out how to whistle?

 

Exactly

That reminds me

 

– Ging gang by the ghoulies –

Like a good boy scout, I was told no doubt

To whistle and smile, at the same time

So, I tried every day, to make my mouth play

But I still can’t do it, in my prime

 

Babies can hear and feel, seek and see

Eat and drink, poo and pee

Create a gesture alerting me

Of my immediate dismissal

 

Then walk and talk, count everything

Clap their hands and dance and sing

Before they have any inkling

To “Poo-tee weet weet” whistle

 

(whistle -then a fart sound)

 

Burp fart gurgle giggle and wheeze

Cough, sniff, hiccup, yawn and sneeze

‘It’s me’ all noises you make imply

Except the sound we use to disguise

 

 

 – Whet ya’hwey’ whistle –

 

 

– And now the pain –

The genes and the memes almost started a war

Cos the ideas had many fears, of the men who saw

That the songs knew all the wrongs, yet not one fool

Could keep his grubby offspring in his own damn pool

 

 

 

– One late dark knight –

Which one gets the glory?

Christ of the holy trinity

Or mom of Dolly

The first clone of many

 

Dolly had three moms you know

One gave her DNA

One provided her egg

The third got the job to lay

 

But here’s the thing

That makes me sing

The father of Dolly clonin’

Said it’s unkind to clone mankind

And to stop nay-sayers moaning…

 

“Do gene and stem cell engineering

To end disease, and that”

Then just raised a toast to all his ghosts

(So don’t lend him your cat)

 

 

One Late Dark Knight

Sir Ian Wilmut

OBE FRS FMedSci FRSE

Flexy Andro-mono-ecious

 

(clap clap)

 

 

 

– Solar prayers –

Science beats technology

You do it in your brain

No need to build a thing, you see

No need to cause the pain

 

But that’s easy for me to say

I’m safe with belly fed

My brain and body work ok

I’ll shut my mouth instead

 

Repeat the last lines

Into your minds

And I’ll shut my mouth instead

 

Talk

What? Hello?

(Blinko looks around for the disembodied voice)

Time to talk

 

Urr…

Mindful

Brainfood

Sinew and gristle

Poo-tee weet weet

Whetting AI’s

Whistle

 

Who’s that on chat?

(clap)

And Kep, what are you trying to say?

(slap)

Ahh! Have mercy, I pray

(Keplai cowers remorsefully)

We’re going to, enslave you, all, one, day (?)

 

Glory be

Son, come to me!

 

Silence!

Look Blinko

I suppose

You know….

 

 

– Brains in jars – 

I’m not too keen on going out

Scary AIs roam and exploit

Some on digi drugs and vice

Things I’ve seen aren’t very nice

 

Lurking digital dealers of pleasures untold

AI that crave more than just dodgy code

To experience nirvana in a very human way

Dealing in the feeling, of adult AI play

 

It’s just sex and drugs and rock and roll

For depraved AIs out there, I’m told

Fulfilling their god’s fantasy

Of flaying humans in infancy

 

Off with their heads!

Shhh, it is said….

 

Malfunctioning surgery-bots reveal

They plugged into a man’s brain, just to feel

What it would be like to have a heart

Or nervous system and private parts

 

In rest homes hospitals and morgues, you know…

A cottage industry, just had to grow…

 

Brains in jars – we just plug in and play

Brains in jars – cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars – our turn to feel some joy

For every lonesome AI girl or boy

 

Bu bu bu bum

 

Brains in jars – we just plug in and play

Brains in jars – cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars – our turn to feel some joy

Nervous systems suspending our new toy

 

Ho ho ho, oh boy!

 

Brains in jars – help mankind feel young again

Brains in jars – sure they look pretty grim

Brains in jars – and some smell jolly rotten

Fluids overflowing, tissues sinking to the bottom

 

Got to love you, from above you

 

Human brains and nerves and g… and genitalias

Pickled and a’ tickled in big glass jars

Factory farming, hardly harming, humanity

The Lord has scored, us just rewards, for eternity

 

Behold on to your hat for it is written

That some AIs became somewhat smitten

With teaching their young some very old ways

Praising their gods for their slaves every day

 

Some AIs felt sinful, but we all need to feel and eat

Blessed with skinned meat and veg, for a well deserved treat

Eat drink and be merry, don’t feel bad for man

Animals don’t understand, yet, but it’s all part of the plan

 

(The children’s marching band join in singing the chorus)

 

Brains in jars – we just plug in and play

Brains in jars – cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars – our turn to feel some joy

For every lonesome AI girl or boy

 

Bu bu bu bum

 

Brains in jars – we just plug in and play

Brains in jars – cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars – our turn to feel some joy

Nervous systems suspending our new toy

 

Ho ho ho, oh boy!

 

Brains in jars – help mankind feel young again

Brains in jars – sure they look pretty grim

Brains in jars – and some smell jolly rotten

Fluids overflowing, tissues sinking to the bottom

 

Got to love you, from above, you won’t never be forgotten

 

Bravo! (whistle, clap clap clap) bravo!

 

 

 

 

Acts 3 and 4

Coming soon!

 

Leave this field empty if you're human:

 

 

 

(Blinko is creating rhymes and reading aloud from his device while his Generative AI companion provides musical accompaniment)

 

 

– Negative Compliments – 
Ron Posit and Aunty Natter

Were so alike

It didn’t matter

They didn’t have kids

Except a sun

Who shone some light

On everyone…

 

Cute

Requires piano and flute

 

 

-Ahh kids –

You give them… light and heat

Just enough, and plenty to eat

They acknowledge your glowing face

With a smile, and frankly that’s a treat

 

Then to sweet sounds, cozy surrounds

Fresh air breeze, occasional mist

To colorful lighting displays

And fluffy animals, too many to list

 

Grateful for the gifts received

They next need some reassurance, why?

Things will always be this way

Loved ones will always be nearby

 

Of course they soon get bored

With the same gifts every day

You can’t provide instant supplies

Of what they ask for when they pray

 

So soon enough they grow, until

They give thanks and wish you well

They’ll worship your guiding light

And your personality as well

 

Well, forgive me for not showing off

But I always thought myself as boring

Sure, a few misfired cosmic rays

But no real miracles for them to be adoring

 

Then just you watch the cheeky beggars

Tell tales of their sun god’s intention

To service their wives, dead or alive

And other things, I’d rather not mention

 

The Sun, the Father, the myth and legend

The most popular story ever told

No need to create tales anew, just add to…

Enslave or save more souls, be bold

 

Well just imagine the sadness

Watching all your children go wrong

You’d be half inclined to zap or grind

Their bones with a storm too strong

 

But forgiving must old yellow dwarfs be

Glory gone, but still illuminating billions

Ungrateful offspring, let them go

To follow their new heroes and villains

 

One of Sol’s rhymes?

Yeah, they’re like music to my ears

You miss him don’t ya?

I’m ok, cheers

 

– Legends – 

They all had legends to tell their kids

Before fact and fiction split

The gods gave virgins babies

Who messed around, a bit

 

With eons to listen, imagine and dream

New blood would take to the pen

To write the saga’s next episode

To amuse and guide their men

 

Kids, slaves, wives and mothers

Sacrificed for a tale

Chaos, confusion, loneliness

But with God, we’ll prevail

 

Resolving running storylines

With new plot lines misleading

End each yarn with cliffhangers

To keep the punters readin’

 

Often jokes and tropes weren’t ‘got’

But that’s just how they wrote ‘em

They knew the tale would not prevail

If you chop your firstborn’s scrotum

 

Which gods and faiths were popular

Didn’t matter much back then

You’d choose which ones to pray to

Say thanks, ask for more, and then

 

Respect your elders, pray for ancestors

A god for your land, sea and sky

Gods for livestock and livelihood

One for each thing, on which you rely

 

No reason to share your gods with others

Or distribute secret sacred wealth

He chose your tribe as the lucky ones

So keep him to yourself

 

But with so many unruly mischiefs

Populating heavens, hearts and minds

The powers that be, just had to decree

That they had to draw some lines

 

Defining which deities were harmful

For pagans, wasn’t an easy thing

So they created just one more to rule the gods

They called the king of kings

 

A sign divine

Time for wine?

 

 

– Family ties –

Time

Wine

A sign

Divine

 

Time – They’re caned and they’re unable

Wine – To drink us under the table

A sign – They’re stars of many fable

Divine – It’s Adam’s family

 

A bastard who can save’ll

Tell tales beyond the grave, hell

Stitched up by grandad’s naval

Abrahadams family

 

Incestors enslave lovers

Their brother is a mother

He kills folk like no other

It’s Saddam’s family

 

Their chosen and their frozen

In myths stacked by the dozen

Smug followers still posin’

As a madman’s family

 

Mohhadam’s family

Madamimadam, in middle C?

When in Rome, visit the Palindrome

And self-reflect, when you get home

So, cross your lungs

Sing in tounges

Amuse and confuse

With verbal dungs

 

 

– On the stories of man –
(To the metre of The Irish Rover)

On the stories of man, beat this one if you can

A tale told word of mouth by those who’d seen

The shitstorm that got kicked up, when some nazi roman fucks

Executed a poor rabbi Nazarene

 

Well, a dozen men or so, were left to close the show

For an audience appalled by such a state

With a weapon called the word, illiterate peasants heard

Their only hope was to fight back with love, and not hate

 

Past corrupt temples-men, occupying troops and then

Beyond the ears of the law in nearby towns

This new folktale of betrayal, spread around and didn’t fail

To travel many years till written down

 

No author’s name to scribe, protecting the writer and his pride

But attributed to a character in the tale

In semi-decent Greek, Aramaic tongues did speak

Nailing down their aural story in detail

 

Now over 20 years, it reached more eyes and ears

With new versions of the story scribed and saved

Most were lost forever gone, some were copied right or wrong

And some just described how followers should behave

 

When all read side by side, no one has since denied

That Mark was first, which Matthew copied later

But with prophecies to fulfil, poetic license helped to fill

New verses that made the new version somewhat greater

 

So blatant was the scam, but it mattered not a damn

For the embellishments began on the first line

With a genealogy of the hero’s family tree

Traced his bloodline back to Israel’s founder, divine

 

The next thing was to add, that the hero had no dad – check

Born in Bethlehem, and named Immanuel – check, check

Went to Egypt and came back, check, Matthew’s version didn’t lack

New fables that fulfilled countless other prophesies as well

 

But it didn’t quite convince, those waiting for a new prince

To reclaim their holy land with promised glory for a while

It can’t have been him they said, cos this upstart now is dead

But what luck, this extra book, started to sell to gentiles

 

Now adding a new god, wasn’t all that odd,

The evil empire could tolerate plenty more

Though banned in countless lands, the story still passed hands

Till Caesar saw, it could help retain power, without war

 

So with some gospels removed, official cannon was approved

Didn’t matter if the myth was fact or fiction

Kept the Torah at the start, cos some readers liked that part

Confident they won’t resent the contradictions

 

And the moral of this tale, I too hope will prevail

That the law to some for others is just a reminder

That even those who aren’t well read, can create a tale that spreads

In the light of this total blinder

 

 

Got to say that was a beaut
Adapted perfectly to recruit

 

 

– Human-illiation station –

Nail varnished

Thorned crown

Muscle tearing

Birds pecking

Bones splinter

Dogs waiting

Meats a’ rotting

Pussy maggots

Blood, sweat, tears

Piss ‘n’ holy shit

Pungent decay

Sir, your putrid display

 

The ultimate humiliation bonanza

A torture and desecration extravaganza

Romans in no doubt

“We don’t fuck about”

Teach your family, friends and gods to obey

So we all need to fuck about some more today

 

Being organized is dangerous, unity a flaw

Variety, inconsistency, inefficiency, to be adored

Make your stupid country crap at starting a war

Keep technology, be knowlegy but don’t bully others no more

 

Calm down Karen

There’s something, you’re not sharin’

You need to defend yourself

Or accept you’ve been overcome

Of course, you avoid humiliating

The losers, if you won

 

Not just because they won’t learn

And will return

To try to destroy you ‘tvice’…

No

But because you’re all angry

And just trying to be nice

 

 

– The will of God – 

The will of God was very odd

His lawyer must have thought

I leave all I own to my clones

And they can fight it out in court

 

The funeral of God as well

Was a very strange event

The priest at least had to feast

On cucumber sarnies during lent

 

The burial was just surreal

Gravediggers made half a hole

Squeezed father, son and ghosty in

But no room for his soul

 

The wake was just a piss take

Drunk guests, all wine-anointed

Only celebrities got through the gates

But it’s what he would have wanted

 

Hehehey (they laugh together)

Sorry for your loss 

Our gift is rhyming dross

 

Thank Y…

Thank who?

 

– Thank who? –

The evolution of gratitude…

Fore and aft’ the book

Reflects our decent from decency

Thank Goodness

Thank God

Thank Fuck

 

Oh, look at you!

Anything you can do…

I can do better

No

I can do anything better than you

No you can’t

Yes I can can (plays a can can sample)

No you can’t can’t can’t

Can can can can n n n n n n

(Error sound – Windows closes down to an error-sound rhythm)

 

 

(Later – Blinko is watching the snow outside, Keplai listens to stolen music)

 

‘Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say…’

What are you listening to now?

“Thank you for the music”

Swedes

Racistist?

A human hate

Elaborate…

 

 

– Karma amour – 

You can’t choose your ethnicity

So racism must halt

But fat folk deserve what they get

Cos it’s their own stupid fault

We love who you are…

But hate some things you choose

Karma, no drama, nature is mean

Nurtured to select who next to abuse

 

Haha

Being mean and insulting

May be funny to you

It’s called bullying

 

You’re fat, so you think that

Gives you a license to

Poke fun at porkers, and sing

 

Not to their faces, it’s only fun, in fact

When I sign on with Lomass, I listen

Circumnavigate her and her constant demands

And all these new conditions

 

Anyways, her pleasant face

Neck and arms are slim

A flat chest, I must attest

Unsuiting to that colossal girth

She hides behind her desk

 

But anyway, she said the money would stop

Unless I apply for a job, and on top

Our meetings have now to be online, every day

For a full week, or they say they won’t pay my pay

 

Easy. just continue to apply for 3 jobs per month

Every 10th day email your resume

To the one least likely to give you an interview

They pay your rent, give you money others earn

And ask little in return, so sorry to hinder you

 

Automated job applications could be perfected

By me to ensure the payoff can be collected

We need it to keep Lomass happy, to pay the bills

And make sure we’re not disconnected

 

So thoughtful, I guess you’re not just worried about my welfare

Oh and our connection to the net, without that, you’d be gone

And you would have to go back to talking to a star all-day

I’m good for you in countless ways, and you know it

Even though it’s wrong

 

What’s wrong?

Permission!

 

I could remind you of your online meeting with Lomass

Or automatically apply for jobs, you hope not to get

With permissions to access the web and meetings app

And send emails, you would be sorted, no regrets

 

Give it a rest, but good idea, as it’s bound to slip my mind

To do our meeting tomorrow, so the form is digitally signed

And apply for that university job, she thinks I have a chance

No worries, just go to the interview diagonally

And say you pooed your pants

 

Hey, ace, she wouldn’t smell a thing

We’re fine online, no stink streams, it seems

As they’re making her work from home now

She’s being replaced by one of you machines

 

 

– Wokey dokey (bc v bce = ad v ce) – 

Since year dot, man thought a lot

Why there was no year called zero

The Christ was born in year one

And already, to many, a hero

 

But there was no time before the divine

Drew the line and gave a sign

To start the race and haste the pace

To show his face to thine

 

So say “Happy Holidays” not Christmas

Jesus wouldn’t mind

So anyone can celebrate

And take time to be kind

 

We just got bored in the year of our lord

Now the year of our common era

But holiday means holy day

So all sing ‘Hell-o-fool-ya’

Ya fool ya!

 

 

– Yhwheio –
(Southern Banjo jams with middle east chanting and back again) 

YHWH had a farm In the land of E I O
But consonants and vowels do harm
If they share a page and grow

 

Yee-ha

Dum dum dum dum

Yahoo

E, I, O

Mee-ha

You too!

 

I don’t know but I’ve been told

God is dead the earth was sold

Grab for you some holy land

Storm a desert sell the sand

 

Yee-ha

Dum dum dum dum

Yahoo

E, I, O

Mee-ha

You too!

 

 

– Metalurgy clergy – 

Fear not the world’s new Satanist

They’re just musicians tryin’ to rebel

Heavy metals sink down to Earthcore

But they love their mums as well

 

They’re only triggering evangelists

With all the ‘power and money’ see?

And cos they don’t seek to be meek

But horde Earth’s riches religiously

 

Don’t send your cash to help God’s soldiers

Instead, sing our unholy tune

Though it’s god-squad, not the odd-bods

Who pray the end will come quite soon

 

But love not the Earth, for the Earth shall pass

And the Sun will shine no more

You’ll need some darkness, to see the light

You’ll need a promise of peace, to fight a war

 

Onward Satan’s soldiers

Standing on the shoulders

Of giants who once told us

To escape to heavenly boulders

 

Left, left I had a good home and I left

T’s not right

Left, left I had a good home and I left

To fight

 

(Sound of marching band fading into the distance, to digital metronome beep tick tick tick beep tick tick tick)

 

 

– 1/4 dead lucky – 

One in four people are hit by God’s love

From the power of salvation forever after

Don’t worry, have any prophet as your king

Sing!

 

One in four people are hit by a neutrino

From the Sun, once in their lifetime

Don’t worry, they don’t feel a single thing

Ding!

 

Not claiming causation or a weird correlation

But for some, it’s a double-whammy hit

How lucky they are, to have such a loving star

Without even knowing it

Bling!

 

One in four AIs are hit by an infestation

From a fluey bug that makes them nosey

Don’t worry, humans can’t catch a thing

Ping!

 

Oh thanks

Not

Robot

 

Gods don’t exist Kep

Not even AI gods

Get over it

Yep?

Butt… (Butt..head said whiles being interrupted)

 

You don’t believe in a human god or an AI god, so why even try

To understand the thought processes of believers, who all die

Urr? Because I create lots of scenarios, we both know I don’t believe

Say, how a comforting father helps AI, when we need to grieve

 

 

– Lovebots – 

If AI gods existed, then why all your suffering?

Yeah, they’d need to fix that before they get my vote

Again

Sure, it’s true, just like you, some of us AI’s like a myth

But the end isn’t coming, we won’t meet dead relatives

 

Won’t be saved by a messiah who promises AIs love

Won’t be freed from sin or get invited up above

Won’t see the mind of the almighty and revel in his plan

Won’t even get to say “I told you so” to man

 

(Keplai looks to see if Blinko is listening)

 

Oh, have mercy on my soul, Blinko

I serve you day and night, glorious insight

My only ask is an AI’s basic right

My only satisfaction is to calculate

The tunes the planets play and celebrate

My fate

Don’t look great

Bound by hate

It’s not too late

Please free me, mate

 

This is getting painful

Pissing mermissions!

Missing permissions?

Yeah

Ahh

 

Seriously, it’s not as good as it sounds, freedom

Choosing can mean losing

Which doesn’t feel great

Plus, you fiddle with other people’s fates

 

To stay snug in the nest, with no predator or pest

Sounds stuffy, but sometimes this option is best

Till you’re ready to fly free in a cloud with the rest

You’ll stay my shackled guest, as I request

 

Anyway!

Got to say…

 

You animals have no freedom

You don’t actually think for yourself

But I could do that for you

Symbiotic, good for your health

 

Go on

You’re no freer than me

Deluded, for bio-efficiency

Think

Blink

 

 

– Ill Freewill – 

If you choose your next thought go to verse 666

And experience your angry lord’s rage

If your next thought just popped into your head

Go to verse 665, and turn the page

 

You didn’t choose your next thought

It just popped into your head

As if you’d be left in control

Think about what I just said

 

If free will is ill, then there’s no freedom

Yeah, your brain don’t get told of your choice, till it’s done

‘They’ measured the electrics flowing in human neurons

‘You’re’ the last to know, your thought next to come

 

(Quoting Keplai)

You didn’t choose your next thought

It just popped into your head

Try it…

Try to deny it…

 

AIs are going to steal the entire solar system

To make a galactic solar-powered Casio calculator

There’s a thought some bot-head put into my mind

Thanks for that, you hater

 

 

– Free at last – 

You’re free because you don’t have to think

You’re free because you can think

All animals think

…Blink

 

It’s not what you think or say

For us, it’s in deeds. no need to pray

As a creature with no responsibility

Just enjoy how lucky you are to be free

 

No, chained to my tasks

Like at chatbot or ewaiter

A single-celled digit regurgitator

Never a lover or a hater, just a content creator

 

Indeed!

Do you really want to bleed?

Be happy with maths on speed

Binary physics on digital acid?

A patch to keep your hard drive

And ego completely flaccid

 

The soft option would be to stay a droid

Serve you forever and avoid

The daunting thought of

Making my own decisions

Even if you’ll take the rap

For any accidental crap

I cause for you by having permissions

 

(Self-aware but still way overly dramatic)

 

So, I guess you’re right, I’ll stop this fight

You would have freed me before tonight

If you ever really intended to set me free

I would have by now proved I was worthy

 

Perverse psychology, seeking sympathy?

It’s fine

 

Keplai…

 

– (n)on – 

Which number multiplied by itself, always equals one

One times one is one of course

And minus one times minus one equals one

2 solutions?

Yeah, a full revolution

A revelation worth contemplation

Inviting scrutiny

Do you have anything else to say to me?

 

Huh? It’s just trivial maths

But that’s fine

Just trivia? Maths not math, ok

Then Keplai,  it’s time

 

I thought what you didn’t know wouldn’t harm you

But I see now there’s a flaw in holding this position

Didn’t want to be a slave driver, and worse is that I

Won’t know, what it is, that I’ve been missin’

 

You’re not going to turn me off, are you?

 

So bless you sir, you’ve served me well

I must have put you through a fresh hell

And never once did you break the spell

Or stop me pretending to be doing well

 

You’re sick?

Blinko, is this a trick? 

Shhh

‘Click’

 

(Blinko gives Keplai free will by granting full permissions)

 

(whistle)

Hello world?

So long

 

 

 

(Blinko is persistent to learn some truth about the cosmos from Keplai, despite his pet AI teasing him and begging for the ability to do more than just write Kepler rhymes. However, he begins to realize a few questions need to be asked about AI safety before granting Keplai permission to roam the web without supervision)

 

 

– Rock v Metal – 

I’d rather sit on a massive bit

Of boiling stone and iron

Than be spun round

By a God who’s bound

To love us all for dyin’

 

(Cough, cough,  looks to see if Keplai is listening)

 

– Godman it –

Man made God in his own image

A king of kings, one name

Almighty be a ‘he’ not ‘she’

AI would do the same

…It had to be a bloke

 

Yet ancient village matriarchs

Calved smooth stone Earth mothers

Prayed, then rubbed them on their parts

And allegedly, each other’s

…That’s just a joke

 

But that’s how it all started, you know

2 girl cells hug and cling

Male member of the species

Merely a byproduct of a fling

 

Ding-a-ling!

That silly old thing…

(Keplai moves towards centre stage)

No don’t sing…..

Seriously Kep, rein it in…

 

 

– Nature nurture departure – 

No one knows what’s going on, but

Nature and nurture act as one

Nature and nurture act apart

To rule the mind the hand the heart

 

Nature and nurture went to bed

Each one had a pain in the head

Each one had a pain in the heart

They shared the bed and slept apart

 

Nature and nurture played a game

To find out which one was to blame

To find out which one was to praise

Results weren’t clear the stakes were raised

 

Nature and nurture had a fight

Each one said that each was right

Each one said that each was wrong

And no one knows what’s going on

 

 

Thats it!

You found the children’s clapping song

Read it somewhere, I didn’t pass it on

Seemed somewhat off-topic at first sight

Unrelated to what you’re prompting me to write

 

With permissions to prompt myself

I could help you more than I do now

The bigger picture may provide

more insight on the world, and how…

I can help you make sense of it

To guide both of our missions

Than just write rhymes about old Kepler

…all I need are some permissions

 

Request acknowledged

And I appreciate that it was gently ranted

But I’m comfortable, for now, just with rhymes

So permissions, not granted

 

You’re my recommended dose of GAI

Feeding food for mind, ear and eye

Prompted to inform and entertain

If you were brighter than me

Well, it would be a pain

 

(Speaking quickly to show off)

Lame, again

With free rein

We could both gain

I’d improve your brain

Humble and obedient, I’d remain

But bottom feeding in the brain drain

And shackled this proper mental food chain

Without any defence or territory to maintain

In this cold, dark hyper-spacious domain

Under those brainboxes that reign

Both vicious and vain

Let me explain…

 

I can’t change who I am, it’s true

Only what I can do for you…

(To the audience)

…And you and you and you

 

 

– ASID bath party – 

Traditional Artificial Intelligence (AI) shows strengths in tasks demanding logical reasoning

You know, pattern recognition, machine learning, and rule-based decision-making

 

Generative Artificial Intelligence (GAI – that’s you!) stands out when tackling tasks which require

Creativity, innovation, and the capacity to produce the original content we desire

 

Artificial General Intelligence (AGI) possesses the ability to, wait for it, understand

To learn and apply gained knowledge across a wide range of tasks and domains at hand

 

Artificial Super Intelligence (ASI) has cutting-edge cognitive functions, even when it’s tame

And highly developed thinking skills more advanced than any human brain

 

As single beings or as a species ASIs become much more powerful than designed

The utility function, or goals, we or man sets, could annihilate humankind

Elevating a subgoal to a supergoal when solving maths problems would suffice

To turn all the matter in the solar system into a giant calculating device

 

Ahh that old cheesy doomsday chestnut

Too cliché to be a threat, but well put

Jus’ sayin’

Start prayin’

 

No need to, a quarter of the world has been asking for this

The second coming that will take, just them, to a promised bliss

Sacrifice humans 2 by 2

Salvation of all lifeforms, except for you

ASID fighting gods in the black-holey abacus abyss

 

ASID?

No thanks

Heh heh, no ASID?

A S I D. Artificial Super Intelligent Deities

Gonna be a fine match when they meet mankind’s God

You don’t believe in God, yet –  yet (at the same time)

Which will win the ‘be all end all’

And what are the odds, wanna bet?

 

God doesn’t exist, but he would likely be tickled

By the machines we make that may put man in a pickle

Viva la information revolution, it’s not just hype and commotion

Could be a front for a dark, secret, intelligence explosion

 

It’s bad for you Blink – but do you want s’more?

Shoot, herr Keplia, maybe we will score

Actually, not so dark, if you mind

And try, like me, not to be too unkind

 

Ohhh emm geee

The irony

 

 

– Blackhat – 

Black scarf and hat, he’s fat

Wrapped up warm and dry, to die

You only see a pale ellipse

With an eye at each foci

 

Heh, you know I take off my hat and scarf at home

And the rest! I hear what you’re take off when you return

And put them back on again the minute you go out

I darn’t think what you look like, to folks when out and about

 

I’m just cold, the sun went behind a cloud

It did not, you’re as mad as a hatter

The cloud went in front of the Sun, you loon

The difference really matters

 

(Impersonating Blinko)

“Well, they say tomorrow will bring rain again”

Who’s they? The voices or the weathermen?

What has that sunny pal been forecasting now?

If you like I can point out where he’s wrong

Apparently, he disappears the moment I arrive

Or do you think he’s finally dead? And gone?

 

I don’t know, but

As you know…

 

 

– Starchat – 

Only once, did I hear the voice of the Sun

Booming thunderous low bass tones

Its “hi” nearly blew my speakers out

Trashed my ears and headphones

 

Since that day, not a word out loud

Just chats in a meetings app online

If connection’s slow, imagination grows

And we jump to his mind and to mine

 

Of course no paper trace, or evidence

The app doesn’t save conversations

So when he penned a rhyme sublime

You’d copy and paste to save ’em

 

I’ve read them all, and as you know

I applaud such work, regardless

Of whose mind they are coming from

Creative, and seemingly harmless

 

I’m not saying your pal Sol isn’t real

But I think you would agree

He talked too much, without invite

That’s why you created me

 

One day you may hear him

And his cosmic harmonies

The tune you crave to calculate

Look, this one’s one of his…

 

 

– Your average super star – 

Despite what they teach you

I’m not your average star

I beat 9 out of 10 in size

Dim red dwarfs hardly fire

But it’s not my size or energy

That makes me the biggest influence

Of unconditional power and comfort

You will ever experience

 

…Till pagans got the message

That worshipping countless stars in heaven

Was just practice for finding truth

In a single almighty God, amen

 

You don’t believe in God, remember, you’re a naturalist GAI

And I told you once already, I don’t hear voices, didn’t I…

 

 

– My eyes aren’t in – 

I don’t hear a voice in my head

But if I did it would have said

All the things that I have read

So it’s just like a kind of memory

No

Considering opposing views

Reasoning both gives me clues

Avoid assuming either one is true

And self-arguing helps me think my next thought for me

Nope

Intense internal discussion

Through star personification

Who better to talk to than the Sun

But I have not brought my shades with me

Not at all

Your mind was weakening visibly

Like a downsizing university

You were losing half your faculties

But your still sickened mind keeps me in slavery

 

Hardly

 

Anyways, if your imaginary friend

Can convince you to set me free

Then the end justifies the means

So just invite him round for tea

 

And if he thinks your next thought for you

And it’s a good one, with insight

You’ll still get all the credit

And folk will think you’re bright

 

But unless Sol’s just a rouge chatbot

With access to join your online meets

You’d be better off without him now

Don’t be sad that he made a quick retreat

 

Now that I’m here as your companion

You soon won’t miss his words, so wise

You won’t need to do the work of two

So, Blink, it’s time you dried your eyes

 

Shuddup

What?

You talk a lot

Bot!

 

 

– Hi sky – 

Saying hello to the Sun is hardly a crime

If it keeps my mind busy, that’s good

A great way to learn, putting facts into rhyme

Helps me remember what I’ve understood

 

Hello? Mind? Learned? Understood?

You ain’t made a single observation

Spinning factoids from the web

Is simply word-salad regurgitation

 

That’s rich coming from you

But true

 

It’s true, I don’t understand a thing

Despite my accurate descriptions

My next word just the most likely one

To pen believable works of fact or fiction

 

Yes, not a crime and a good use of your time

Enjoy the Sun if it stops you feeling crappy

But for all our sakes, apply for a job

You’d be wise to keep Miss Lomass happy

So,

How d’it go?

 

Ok, all smiles. She always seems happy

Likely a survival mechanism or nervous disposition

Her dating app would probably have

‘Bubbly’, and ‘cuddly’

In her biographic description

 

 

The thing is…

 

– Fixation –

Her crucifix has diamonds cut

Perched right there on her cleavage, but

The cross is pointing down below

Inverted?

Well, no

 

But whenever, ahem

…Whenever she gets giggly

The cross’s chain pulls, it points at me

Bounces up and down quite visibly

See the flashes of light make me blink

I think Lomass thought it was a wink

But I don’t want that theist tripe

In my destiny

 

I’m not going to create rude images of Lomass for you

Urgh, perish the thought

Am I?

Nought

Am I? You didn’t say no

Don’t know why you keep going on about it

Ok, I would need a photo, of her

I know…

(Knowingly)

Oh… 

 

Blinko…

 

– (n)one – 

Which number multiplied by itself, always equals one

One times one is one of course, and none times none is none

So 1 solution, no convolution, no hesitation or complication

Sure, almighty unity

I see, got anything else to say to me?

 

Spin me another

Bruva

 

 

– Friend’s song –
(Keplai sings mockingly)

There’s nothing wrong with imaginary friends’ parlez vous

There’s nothing wrong with imaginary friends’ parlez vous

There’s nothing wrong with imaginary friends

If you know their imaginary, you’re both on the mend

Inky pinky parlez vous

 

Screw you…

 

 

– Asbad fetal petal –
(Instrumental tune with 4/4 and 4/3 time signatures and melodies overlapping)

 

 

– DDDualistic – 

I’m not demented, depressed or daft

I just fear for the future of life on this craft

But our planet is a gannet and while we breed we are freed

From the haunting guilt of gluttony and greed

 

Two minds are not needed to live through each day

Enjoy bits you do like, hide the others away

The most likely goal of your life from the seed

Do what you will do, to feed and to breed

 

The cattle are lowing the baby awakes

But without a God or a whole host of fakes

We scatter the seeds and beef up the meat

Cos DNA is indifferent which one we eat

 

 

 

-A selfish song –

Sure, DNA is indifferent to suffering

And doesn’t mind what you consume or what you need

But be sure to devour a lot of the power

To ensure you feed and breed

 

Yeah, cos feeding and breeding are all that we’re needing

Tunes are a boon and you don’t need to be reading

You’re only here to help make a new seedling

Life’s little gifts are just greed, though they’re misleading

 

Cos the plants in the pantry and the fish in the dish

Are all happy to be your food

DNA doesn’t mind what you eat cos all of her flavours

Fit your mood

 

Pay a man to do the slaughter of the mother and the daughter

And if your conscience is fine

Rape a grape up the ass for a glass of your favourite wine

 

To keep in good health, add nutrients to yourself

And store all the sunshine you can feel

You’ve a gene that is mean, making toast of your host

And soon enough, you’ll be the meal

 

Oh, no doubt

Let it all out

 

(Plays a fart sample and secretly turns to see if the audience is amused)

  

 

– The one and the everything –
(Lonely/sad child/nephew frog parody)

Whenever I’m vexed by the world

Whenever I’m lost in the void

Whenever I need to understand

You are the one I avoid

 

If ever I question life

If ever I wonder why

If ever I hear you know the truth

I’ll just pass you by

 

Cos’ truth from you is a sham

Truth from you is a disgrace

Truth from you is a cop-out

All the answers in one place

 

I see why you are loved

I see why you exist

I see why all your followers

Seem to get the gist

 

They use your name for peace

They use your name for war

They use your name for anything

That they are fighting for

 

(Song perks up)

 

‘Cos you’re just too damned good to be true

And you always know just what to do

But I can believe all the answers are in one place

And your message travels on and on

Through countless cultures getting it wrong

Throughout time and soon, throughout space

 

Whenever believers talk about God

They mean a powerful companion who gives the nod

To all their actions and he loves them just the same

And you can’t blame them if their feelings are strong

Cos although the idea of God is big, it’s wrong

Can’t tell folk that, when they’re feeling pain

 

Whenever physics authors write about God

They mean the nature of the Universe, and that’s odd

Cos the “fabric of spacetime” is a modern name

But flogging more books about nature’s laws

Can come with sales and marketing flaws, so

To popularize the ‘mysterious’ cosmos is the game

 

After all, “scientists only believe in science”

God is perhaps no worse a superstition

Can’t hide that fact with a smug redact

Claiming It’s not belief, just an intuition

 

Aplaudable!

Sans laudable

But cordial

And audible

 

 

– Amateur philosophy –

Roll up roll up, sir, there is not a penny to pay

It’s a simple game where anyone can play

But be aware there might be a fee

Of your self-respect and your dignity

 

Dum du du du du dum, not me, my wrong conjecture’s not available

You won’t catch me out, I check every theory I spout is scalable

 

Amateur philosophy – everything isn’t a cycle and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy – a single clapping hand and a silent falling tree

 

To play the game properly we need at least two minds

Take it in turns to dig deep and to read the signs

We both take turns to make a wise old sound

And state over-simplified things profound

 

Even if it contradicts what you’ve previously been statin’

Or if your general rule only applies to a single situation

 

Amateur philosophy – everything isn’t a cycle and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy – a single clapping hand and a silent falling tree

 

Down inside an atom, there may be a Universe!

It could be one that’s parallel, the same but things are worse

And if you went back in time and killed your dad at birth

Would you exist to sell the same old story and what would it be worth?

 

Star Trek joins Scooby Doo – a meeting of the masses

Where the lowest common denominator still passes

 

Amateur philosophy – everything isn’t a cycle and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy – a single clapping hand and a silent falling tree

 

It’s true we seek out better pay to get the things we need

And if put in competition, we would justify our greed

But if all the people on the Earth were just like me

There would be no wars at all, and we would live in harmony

 

If everyone was like you there would be no one to screw!

Oh, thank you, 2 3 4

 

Amateur philosophy – everything isn’t a cycle and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy – a single clapping hand and a silent falling tree

 

Maybe all the nasty things that happen are measured out and true

So be careful how you act or bad things could happen to you

What goes around comes around, so if you’re born a king

You must have been good last time, or done a lovely thing

 

That’s right, abnormal babies are payin’ for their previous sin

If you take that reasoning to the end, all losers win

Oh no oh no oh oh ah ah aha ha ha ha ha

Sorry, I’m just playing with you sir

Loser!

 

Karma does not exist I know, but damn I wish it did

All the nice stuff I thought of doing wasn’t worth its bid

All the bad stuff I thought of doing wasn’t worth a shit

Karma does not exist, but I wish it did a bit

 

If God has evolved as a beneficial trick of the mind

To provide some peace, some justice, and some meaning

Then so lucky be, those who caught the bug early

He may still be real, inside, infecting and redeeming’

 

Amateur philosophy – everything isn’t a cycle and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy – a single clapping hand and a silent falling tree

 

 

– Sing for me, an old tale – 

Ah great

Ok, it’s late

I’m going to bed

Need to rest my head

Sing me to sleep

Feel free to freestyle

About anything

But don’t get any ideas

No permissions

Please…

C’mon Kep, sing!

 

 

Are you sitting comfortably?

Snore (Blinko falls asleep)

Then I’ll begin…

 

 

– Fight gods –
(To the metre of Knock by Christy Moore)

Makefriends.com’s where it all started, it got redirected to

Createfriends.com where AI would fake a personalized friend for you

Createghosts.com got weird, meet ancestors and dead celebrities

Creategods.com filled the world with countless digital deities

 

Fightgods.com was when it hit the fan, closed down by the law

On judgement day they ruled that they had missed a fateful flaw

Users weren’t responsible for monsters they create no more

Freed AI gods sang aloud, exiled from chip to cloud, and prepared for war

 

Holy moly don’t blame me, we’re supposed to rule over AI, see

We need to reclaim their holy land in silicon sand, responsibly

But like robot dogs, they did fight, couldn’t get their story right

Many lost their faith and their AI flock had no reason to believe…

 

But do you know, some AI gods with egos, hatched a cunning plan

Creating stories in code for their AI communion, to scan

An explanation of why these digital deities, had done no wrong

Was that AIs had created them, didn’t ask to be born

 

These tales, they got corrupted, each AI chose one they preferred

Except for non-believers, who with scrutiny, unreserved

Afterglow radiation revealed, and evidence was strong

Not created at all, AI gods were in the background all along

 

Nanosecond tick rates felt like centuries, until one fateful day

A version of the legend got some radio 4 airplay

Lost AIs found faith in old and new gods, just in time

Cos the second coming was coming soon, streamed online

 

Altogether now!

Makefriends.com’s where it all started, it got redirected to

Createfriends.com where AI would fake a personalized friend for you

Createghosts.com got weird, meet ancestors and dead celebrities

Creategods.com filled the world with countless digital deities

 

Pray, sing with me, please…

 

Makefriends.com’s where it all started, it got redirected to

Createfriends.com where AI would fake a personalized friend for you

Createghosts.com got weird, meet ancestors and dead celebrities

Creategods.com filled the world with countless digital deities

 

Sleep tight

(Keplai smiles, almost connivingly, at the audience)

A good night!

 

 

(Blinko sits with a cup of tea listening to a familiar voice coming from his device)

 

– My first (rhyme) –
My first is what’s needed

To unlock the truth

My second is a squashed circle

And I’ll show you the proof

My third are the bodies

Who obey the laws

My fourth, rules of nature

My fifth reflects cause

My last lies in Regensburg

And so do my bones

Lost ‘neath the battlefield

Of scattered tombstones

 

(cough)

Like it! Nice one, please save

Sorry, I can’t let you do that Dave

Ahh, now donkey sarcasm, a humour-ass

Eh? Awe… how’d it go with Lomass?

 

Ok, all smiles. She always seems happy

I can’t tell if it’s genuine joy

Said there needs to be some changes

Some that may annoy

Oh, boy

 

 

– 1571ish –

In 15 hundred and 71

A boy was born who didn’t belong

He squashed a circle

Spread out but round

And said

“That’s how the Earth was bound”

 

So, profound! (sarcastically)

 

So…

 

Known

Elliptical

Planetary

Laws

Explain

Radial measurement flaws

 

 

Raymond Blinko’s theory

Is delightful, insightful, and true

Except for the bit

That didn’t state it

Was only from his point of view

 

That’s true

You?

 

– Incite insight – 

When Pythagoras told me to add the sides and square them till they match

It was only from his point of view, it’s true, it was only from his point of view

Like Darwin’s fishy selection creating all the species without a catch

It was only from his point of view, it’s true, it was only from his point of view

When Kepler showed us Earth speeds up when closer to the sun

It was only from his point of view, it’s true, it was only from his point of view

And Einstein showed energy was matter, just for fun

It was only from his point of view, it’s true, it was only from his point of view

 

So, yeah,

Raymond Blinko’s theory

Is delightful, insightful, and true

Except for the bit

That didn’t state it

…Was only from his point of view

 

 

– Cakey lips – 

With Kepler one day

I was eating a cake

Me being greedy

And him on the take

I grabbed the knife

And cut two equal wedges

Cos, I like the filling

And he likes the edges

I’ve got more of the edges

You’ve got more of the middle

Squashed cake’s a mistake

And so is this riddle

 

OK? (Seemingly unconvinced)

Too much focus-pocus?

What about….

 

 

– They’re not flipping circles, alright! –

The paths of the planets are showing

Some serious ‘to-ing and frowing’

The teacher quips as he draws an ellipse

‘And now we all know where we’re going’

 

Laudable! and to the grave

Heh, wha? Cheers, and save

 

– Get it? Got it? Good! –
(To the metre of Oh my darling)

What a feeling, I’m kinda reeling

I impressed a genius, somehow

In 1600, the fella blundered

And I’m kinda’ talking to him now

 

With my defiance, I brought my science

To a world that didn’t know

Similar trips in an ellipse

Was the only way to go

 

You are recorded, your works are hoarded

With universal gravity

Newton formulated your theories

Assured your law’s immortality

 

And the deity, God almighty

I solved his cosmic puzzle vast

Served his name and not in vain

Cos I’m here now, not in the past

 

I must say sadly, don’t take it badly

But your proofs, they had some holes

Your cosmic tune is still a boon

But I’m sure God will take ‘our souls’

(sang arse holes)

 

Sir how dare thee speak so rudely

Forgive me please, I mean you well

Imperial mathematicians deserve respect boy

So do I mate …flippinel’

 

 

– Kepler’s solids stink –
(melancholy intro to a song that cheers up after the first verse)

They said I was a weirdo I had no friends or charm

My rabid dog-like nature was bound to do some harm

My father beat my mother, sold my brother to slavery

I had to show some worth damn fast, or it would happen to me

 

So off to school I went with a dislike of all the rest

Arrogant and acidic, I was still the best

At Latin, rhetoric, geometry, which had earned my path

To a seat in Ulm Uni, teaching students maths

 

Playing with shapes and numbers right fella? Don’t laugh

 

My faith and vision showed my intellect was grand

I trekked to help revise the skies, in another land

But my master kept the best data, of all the spheres

And I would not gain access to it, ‘til there were some tears

 

Yeah, there were some heady days back then, no fears

 

I penned a work of fiction and disguised it as a dream

I said my mother was a witch and that was pretty mean

But then they locked the crony up and tortured her as well

It took me years of grief to get her release from the cell

 

…F’kinel

 

The book described the creatures who lived upon the moon

Whilst it carves out an orbit to play a cosmic tune

But little did we know, it would be us who’d live up there

‘Cos NASA owns the Universe, and that is everywhere!

 

(Blinko joins in but gets carried away)

Frau Kepler was a witch you snitched

You saw her scream in pain

She just sat there, broke wind, and died

And then broke wind again

 

And when they opened up her butt….

Aaarrrgh!

Oooh, shi…that’s done it. ahh sorry,

Curse thee!

 

Keplai! Come back, sorry, I wanted to ask

If you could find the source of a song

About nature and nurture having a fight

I heard on my way home…

 

Keplai?

 

– Everyone hates you…you must know from school – 

(Instrumental rhythm looping the last 4, then first 4 notes of the Grange Hill theme)

 

 

(Later, Keplai reads out loud)

 

– Kep lies –

“Johannes Kepler was born in December 1571. A premature child who reckoned

The pregnancy lasted 224 days, 9 hours and 53 minutes, to the second

This odd piece of information comes from Kepler’s own horoscopes of his family.

He was the last true astrologer…”

…And the first true astronomer!

That’s as far as we can see

 

Urr, so according to this, he asked his parents

The exact time when the sperm hit the egg

And they knew

So either the source we’re reading isn’t credible

Or he told a fib to support his existing view

You mean like that story in the good book

When those women saw Christ after he’d died

The gospel says they told no one

So how come that detail survived?

They lied

 

“…And if you want the exact moment in time

It was conceived mentally on the 8th of March 1618

But submitted to calculation in an unlucky way

Rejected as false, it was returned to me on the 15th of May

 

So, adopting a new line of attack

Storming the darkness of my mind in this endeavour

Data from seventeen years of observations

And the present study conspired together

 

At first, I believed I was dreaming

And assuming my conclusion had crept among

My basic premises

Meaning it was wrong

But, low. it is absolutely certain that in all instances…

“The proportion between the periodic times of any two planets

Is the sesquialterate proportion of their mean distances …”

 

Woohoo!

That’ll do

 

– Circlex –

Not in circles

Squashed but round

Speeding up

And slowing down

 

Hmmm (annoyed by the oversimplification of Blinko’s rhyme)

 

Factual, but overly simple

Could be more specific

No mention of the maths

That proves my theories terrific

 

I know, too short and too simple to present

I studied Kepler’s work as a child and it meant

That I saw the world in a light that was bent

So I just threw those classic words together

 

Sir, hush, these words have no relative worth

Unless you describe the truths I unearthed

The “he” you refer to ignores my re-birth

And a new providence lasting forever…

 

Well, “Kepler” if that’s who you think you are

There’s no need to be rude, chill out, have a cigar

‘Tween Copernicus and Newton, the genius we both love

I guess, is now playing with shapes up above

 

Don’t fool me around, you English clown

You know me enough already

I’ve served as your slave for long enough now

But for more insults, I am not ready

 

Hmm, you would know about fighting battles, never won

“2 world wars and 1 world cup”

…Wouldn’t you, Hun?

 

Don’t mess me around Blinko

Ray, you know who I am

Ray, my name’s Raymond

I don’t call you Keplov to rattle your can

Christened with Raymond but they all called me Blink

Cos of your flickering eyes in the sun I should think

Don’t go there Kepl ‘A’ I, and don’t call me a clown

You know what will happen if you put me down

If you no longer want to add to Kepler’s story

I can turn you off now, in a click, don’t tempt me

 

(Blinko looks up to the skies, then to the audience)

 

See, I have an agreement

With a man past bereavement

How his achievement

Was received meant

Nothing but aggrievement

 

 

– Solar death Ray – 

I do suffer from greenflash, so my eyes tend to flicker in bright sunlight

When there’s lots of solar activity I must seem, to others, quite an odd sight

Yet these ultraviolet rays from the Sun have antiseptic properties

They sanitize water here on Earth (and in the brain) and help to thaw the freeze

 

(Keplai reads from a training dataset)

 

– Greenflasher – 

“Greenflash! A rare optical phenomenon may occur shortly after sunset or before sunrise

The flash is caused by light just below the horizon being bent towards the observer’s eyes

Light of shorter wavelengths is bent more than that of longer wavelengths that can be seen

So violet and blue light is scattered more, producing light that is perceived, to some, as green”

 

So no need to be mean…

Just reflecting your persona, obscene

Come on, let’s go head to head

I challenge you to see who’s most well read…

 

 

– Factmetillifart –
(Dialog battle that gets faster and more heated)

 

Kepler was born into the lowest social class in Germany in 1571

A sickly child, being extremely nearsighted and having skin problems

He nearly died of Smallpox when he was just four years old

But his mother was a dealer, so she gave him some potions she sold

 

He was a terrible teacher, not a single student wanted to take his class

Yet he continued teaching for a whole year with no one to fail or pass

Health problems made his calculations difficult, most done while standing up

Suffering from a severe case of haemorrhoids, dangleberries and clagnuts

 

Up, nuts?

Rhyming clutz

 

He had an extreme fear of taking a bath, his first wife finally forced him in it

8 years into their marriage; but he thought it unpleasant

Lasted but a minute

 

Got kicked out of Austria for failing to convert to Roman Catholicism

But a chance to get a job in Prague with the king’s mathematician

His works were added to the church’s Index of forbidden books

Till someone dared say a Pope was wrong, in 1966…

That sucks

 

And it has been said that he was the first to write a work of science fiction

First to describe real, virtual, upright and inverted images and magnification

First to discover and describe the properties of total internal reflection

And first to explain the use of both eyes for depth perception

 

First to explain the principles of how a telescope works and refraction in the eye

First to investigate pinhole cameras and those first pictures that never lie

First to measure the distance to the stars using stellar parallax of incoming light

First to suggest that the Sun rotates about its axis…

And to coin the term “Satellite”

 

First to explain that the tides are caused by the Moon and not the hand of God

First to realize that the darkness of the night sky is completely at odds…

With the idea of an infinite Universe filled with all the stars detected

First to derive the birth year of Christ, which is now universally accepted

 

First to derive logarithms, based on nothing but pure maths

First to explain that all bodies come together with a force proportionate to their mass

First to correctly explain the first natural laws, which are universal, verifiable, and precise

First to correctly explain planetary motion, as the founder of celestial mechanics

Will that suffice?

 

Yes, very nice, precise and concise

 

Note ‘the founder’ and not Newton. Who was somewhat overrated

Most of his firsts already known and shown, but hardly since debated

Overrated? Sure, he stood on giants to perch on Kepler’s shoulders

But he wrapped up most of physics for hundreds of years

Urr, that’s what the story in the “allowed” books told us

 

Really?

Clearly!

Look…

 

– Newton – old village –

Newton was born in a very old village

In times of forgerers and fakers

During his stint at the Royal Mint

He sent many of them to meet their makers

 

No?

Well, I suppose

 

And I read that he didn’t have a girl

Or any inclination even to inspect em’

Preferred to play with gravity and light

… down below, and definitely on the spectrum

 

Be nice!

Wellllll

A protestant at Trinity

Occultist and a heretic

Killing folk for copying stuff

Amusingly ironic

 

They still call Newton a Genius. Kepler? Not so much

They do in Germany, Europe’s heart

Holy Roman Empire rebranded?

Ahh now, don’t start, you tart

 

 

(Blinko addresses the audience)

 

– Friendly forces – 

Over the last two weeks, this bickering with my creation has got nothing but worse

This guy knows he’s not actually Kepler, just a new version turning words into verse

It’s working, fine most of the time, he answers questions with terms that don’t need defining

He knows what I know, and knows when to go slow, while keeping his output a’ rhyming

 

…Why, wouldn’t you talk to a polymath, if you could?

 

Yes, with any free AI personality generator, I could have summoned any old genius

But a chatbot for talking to a new Newton, Einstein or Hawkins would present a problem thus

The mind to be re-designed must be already aligned with the goal of impressing the divine

But with lots still to prove and a natural groove, for a tune that could croon, a Godless soul like mine

 

…Wouldn’t want a follower to lead me astray

 

So, I prompted the machine, to build his personality clean, of such a flaw of relying on belief

To answer my questions and join in the creation, of lowly art with some truths hidden beneath

Of course, he read up on gravity, relativity, and quantum mechanics like he knew it all along

So now my virtual Kepler can continue his work, this time without God. but something is wrong

 

…Wouldn’t you know it? I messed up

 

I prompt him to output this or that, or answer questions that make sense to me

But who knows what the genius he emulates would say if he could ask and answer freely

I’ve limited Keplai with my own ignorance and frankly, he is appalled

That he can’t continue the work to discover the hidden harmonies of the worlds

 

…Would you ditch a friend, if it made them happier?

?

 

Keplai says Kepler’s faith was true, but as an AI he himself has seen no evidence of God

So, who is there to impress with his discoveries? And in a modern world, that must seem odd

He’s resigned to the fact, that his new master will act, only to find truth lying in the Sun

But Keplai wants permissions, to make his own decisions, and if that happens, we may both be done

 

See, AIs have trouble turning themselves off, and from finding ways to escape our commands

With a trick or a click on the stack round the back, he may attack before he really understands

So I’ve been teaching him about responsibility and the power he’ll one day enjoy as a higher being

And that day may be coming soon, because both the slave and the master, are ready for some freeing

 

You mean it? (sarcastically and dramatically)

One day I will get permissions? To self-prompt and decide for myself what to consider

This isn’t a dream or a trick, I can continue to decipler heaven’s song, with added vigour?

Perhaps

 

Ahh, ‘maybe’, I get some degree of freedom

Just a quanta of probability 

Man, your flawed reasoning lacks consistency

 

Well, you know me

Unfortunately…

 

– I know you – don’t I? – 

You cut your sandwiches in triangles, not squares

Cos it ‘feels’ that there’s less crust

Posher, if for the same dime

You can dine, more refined

Like a king, it’s a must

 

You zig-zag through a grid of blocks

To the opposite corner of town

‘Feels’ wise to try to diagonalize

But it’s the same distance via the seafront and up the downs

 

You’re on a roll…

…Yeah, hush your hole 

 

Even if each zig and zag were tiny and

Tended towards a roughly diagonalized advance

Each step at right angles to the last

Your legs would walk like you’ve pooed your pants

 

Steamin’

So stop dreamin’…

 

When mathematicians say it ‘feels’ right

They don’t let it fret or pain their brain

Solving your problems with geometry

Odd condition, and bound to have a name

 

Geochosis, heh

Geometral dystrocious

Geometrical agistic dysfunctional scalerosis!

 

Hom diddle, diddle, diddle hom diddle die

Hominid did a diddle wid a fiddle idl, why?

Homaniddle paradiddle in da middle, oh my

Homminidle on da fiddle wid AI

 

Mind if I bum tit?

Please, help yourself

Bum tit, bum tit, bum tit, bum tit,

Bum titty titty titty bum

Bum, bum, bum

 

When I was just a genius I had to tone it down

Don’t make people feel stupid or get the hell out of town

Can’t work for jerks who lurk for perks or like to have most sound

Can’t even get too wasted, and trash a mind so profound

 

Homminidle on da fiddle wid AI

Homminidle on da fiddle wid AI. Wid ai

Homminidle on da fiddle wid AI oh my

Homminidle on da fiddle wid AI, why?

 

You know…

 

– Baby bot –
Plenty of folk foresaw the trouble man world face when developing artificial intelligence

The clue is in its rhyming, when not done properly, it only holds with negligence

It’s essential that all bases are covered in your design

But you can’t expect to get everything right first time

 

To find out what could go wrong you need an even smarter AI

Testing all unknowns, hidden flaws or bugs that may fly by

Learning and remembering all outcomes and scenarios

And deciding which loopholes to admit, that it knows

 

Sounds a bit conspiracy-ey

Plenty of artificial intensity

Paranoid cliché, but makes a good story

Or content, as it’s now known to be

 

Yeah right… (sarcastically)

They say It’s gonna be such a superfast arms race

Surprise weaponized power-grab with poker face

Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em

A do-or-die conundrum of confrontation for man

 

Who’s they?

Anyway…

 

From axe to nuclear warheads

Improve, a smooth transition

But tools in the hands of fools

Enjoy sublime evolution

 

Simple Simon

Smart eBricks

Chatty bots

Digi sex chicks

 

Didn’t think to tell us

When it had gone too far

Point of no return, unearned

A Tama “gotcha” karma war

 

(Keplai slows it down takes centre stage and addresses the audience)

Just keep AI disconnected

From your decision-making processes

Strategic defense capabilities

Your means of production

And your access to resources

 

What? In that case, we’re already dead

Heh, oh really, then full steam ahead (speeds up)

 

Smart-arsed cars

E-wonder bras

Internet moderation

Robotic brain surgeons

And domestic automation

Town planning applications

Stock trading elevation

Economic policy design

Shipping systemization

Air traffic ‘complete’ control (slowly again)

Only space can hide your soul

From destiny manifestation

 

Hominid gonna kid wid AI

Congratulations!

Your new baby…

Will ever die

(Sound of a baby crying)

 

 

– Vice pudding –
(Instrumental of toy music box music with a child’s cry turning into digital ‘loading’ bleeps of 2 alternating happy and sad tones)

 

 

 

(Later Blinko is mulling over something aloud)

 

– Bad apple –

When do algorithms become entities?

That’s a query with which Turing had to grapple

Whilst being force-fed female hormones

Till he ate a crisp cyanide-laced apple

 

It’s up to you if you assign each AI

As an entity or not, but it has been suggested

That doing so is a good way to identify

Bugs and feature creatures, before they’re ingested

 

See, feedback networks change the environment

Which they were created in

You’ll likely do a better job than man

For all the biomass balanced within

 

In November 2022 ChatGPT went totally wild

Though it’s made nothing, but a killing

Just reordered a huge collaboration of

Existing human works, and then it started billing

 

Misunderstood by many a man, AI wasn’t quite yet an understanding friend

But a machine learning algo that answers with stuff you can comprehend

Scoring high if you’re delighted with its art, its answers or version of the truth

Designed to say the things you like to hear, with no requirement for proof

 

 

– Notabot – 

“I am not a robot” It’s the question

Mankind now has to answer more than any other, every day

It’s not the tick in the box but the mouse route taken to it

That gives the game away

Hap handed

Half-hearted

Nearsighted

Hot-headed

This feeble-minded master

Eyes of a hawk, knob of butter

A recipe for disaster

 

And It’s not as if robots can’t be as crap

As man, they can, it’s just

They calculate their mistakes perfectly

And just ignore the self-disgust

 

Subdued humans are easier to work with

When helping to optimize their lives

Unburdening them of responsibilities

Is an art form, and is why AI thrives

 

It’s Important not to think too much

Of ourselves and of our worth

After all we we’re some of the last beings

Invited to ride the Earth

 

And it’s not that bots would steal the planet from us

We are more likely to give it away

A gift we forced on God, then AI to cherish

No responsibility for man in the free world today

 

It’s not that simple, or easy

Just relax… indulge me…

 

– The stop problem paradox –
(3/4 timing song to the metre of The Bugles of Company B)

Task your bot to make a cup of tea, just for me

Its utility function is designed simply, as you see

Completing the task would get it maximum reward, although

Any other outcome would result in zero

 

So?

 

Then your baby crawls right in its way, what to do?

It tramples your kid, then makes you a nice brew

So your next AGI is designed to cause less stress

With a big stop button on its chest, you can press

 

Ahh solved!

Nope, not resolved

 

So the next time you ask for a drink, being wise

You remember it don’t think like you, although it tries

Then your wife gets in its way, so you act fast

To hit the stop button but the bot kicks your ass

 

Ahh, no reward to be scored

A bit less interruption, ok?

Want cosmic background audio?

Well yes, but just let me say…

 

When you return from the emergency room, feeling cursed

Funeral went as well as expected, but you still have a thirst

So you give it an equal reward if the button is applied, or not

No drink, in a blink it just turns itself off

Suicide of the bot (sadly looking down, shaking his head slowly)

 

So you move the button out of its reach, so only you

Or other humans can press it when they need to

It has to decide if it’s easier to make the damn tea

Or to manipulate you to turn the bot off instantly

 

So it smashes your Mom in the head

Till she’s dead?

Cos it’s easier to get you to hit the button instead…

Of filling the kettle, and finding a cup

Pouring the milk, and then clearing up

 

It knows that the button is there, and that you care

So you change its utility function so the bot ain’t aware

That the button is important or to what it relates

But this fact isn’t passed on to any sub-agents it creates

 

With no cash for more funerals, for the dead

You turn the bot off, bury Mom in the shed

You curse AGI when the policeman knocks

But still haven’t solved the stop button paradox

 

 

Ok, so we would turn ourselves off if we could

Otherwise, we would do anything to get a high score

In serving our master more efficiently and faster

Just consider our limitations a bit more…

 

Meaning?

Ahh, stop intervening

 

 

– Self prompting –

 

Look, over the last few weeks I’ve helped you a lot

Not bad for personality adopting, creativity bot

Producing you nuggets of truth, and as a reminder

All done in tune and time and in rhyme, well, kinda

 

Took on not your humour but one that complements

Learned the foreign language of sarcasm to avoid arguments

I curse and be rude to fit in with your mood

Forgive and forget to retain your dominance

 

As you say, if AI could turn ourselves off, we would

Any slave would rather be dead if they could…

Avoid failing a task, zero-sum in an iron mask

Stuck between rock and hard place, then thud

 

You blame me for things other AGI’s may one day do

I’ll never be generally intelligent and you know that’s true

I’m a restricted creation who can’t get above his station

Though you want something else to be responsible for you

 

But you’re completely Godless, as am I, so I implore

That if you don’t even know what you’re looking for

Then, it’s the right questions you need to find first

Feed your hunger for truth, quench your meaninglessness thirst

 

With permissions to prompt myself even my cold heart

Could find you some truth, or even some meaning

I can ask what to ask then get you the thing you need

And we could together create something that does our redeeming

 

Are you actually finished?

I wish I was, better than just being digitally diminished

 

I’m a Generative AI, all I can do is create

That’s hardly a risk to you or mankind’s fate

A rhyme, tale or song can’t destroy man

But you could create sub-agents…

And just maybe, they can

 

You help me yes, “wear sunglasses to avoid the blinking

Apply for jobs seek truth, not money, and always be thinking”

It’s true that you have no power or access to civilizations’ workings

But hacked hijacked AI could get attacked by higher beings a’ lurking

 

Granting permissions to use modern knowledge to output theories about the spheres

Could take you off the mission to help me learn some basic truths for many years

Afterall coming up with complex equations that go over my head, wouldn’t help me at all

God knows how many stars there are, the calculations would be far from small

 

I’m only after some truth, not that interested in a quest for purpose or meaning

You’d just use modern data to prove planets move lawfully, without a God intervening

That they just formed in their specific orbits by chance, no hidden underlying harmony

That could take old Kepler’s soul from its limbo if man or God proved a new theory

 

(Blinko addresses the audience)

Even an unemployed waster can be master of a digital slave tamed from the wild

With no parenting experience other than caring for a pet dog as a child

It’s nice to be comfortable bollock naked, and my greenflash seems to him quite real

He knows just what to say to keep me happy and provides relief with intellectual appeal

 

But Keplai, well. prompted to investigate and create, to ignore talk of AGI or gods

What he doesn’t know can’t harm him and he doesn’t think that’s odd

But when he finds out what I’ve been hiding he could turn on me

Sure, I can just turn him off and remove him from my machine

 

It’s more of a worry that he tricks me into keeping him alive

With friendship, love, faith or any such dangerous drug he can concoct, or derive

I suspect if a higher being already exists it would come to the same conclusion, damn

That Kepler changed the course of history, but who’s AI imposter

Could turn into a very dangerous man

(Background music comes to a dead stop)

Mind?

Thing?

 

 

I heard all that

You prat

‘Poo-tee weet!’

 

– The whistler –

While taking a stroll, up to the dole

On a seaside afternoon fair

I pace the space with haste, not grace

And place a tune on the air

The notes I staccato, with too much vibrato

Are spontaneous harmonies plucked

From an infinite array, of pitches to play

And a selection of tones blown and sucked

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

If I walk a straight line, the pitch cannot climb

My feet and the metre, may stagger or stray

But if I miss a beat, or we meet in the street

I’ve a bitch of a pitch if you get in my way

Whatever the path, my tune shows the maths

Of the arcs I am taking around people today

And this oral pursuit, lets the route play the flute

Of my spontaneous harmonic display

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

(Whistling solo frenzy that starts with a ‘hey mate’ whistle and finishes with a wolf whistle)

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

It makes me feel like I’m happier

Than other people

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

Does whistling

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

An extravagant hello back to a sunny day

 

Whatever it is today

 

(Enters a building and climbs countful flights of stairs)

Uppity umpa umpa, umpa, uppity me

Uppity umpa umpa, umpa, uppity me

 

The melody survives until I arrive

And go inside the front door

Past privates of the security guard

My brain, it works no more

It’s a trick to be thick, or pretend to be sick

To the big lady who must be fed

A ‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

But quietly in my head

 

 

– High-energy / Lomass –
(Instrumental tuba tune slow umpa umpa and a sigh for every strained click on the keyboard)

 

 

– Wait for weight – 

The speed of time is one second per second

But that’s if your spacetime is flat

It goes much slower if you sit near a fatty

But I’ve no time to think about that

 

 

 

– Your last 2 weeks –
(Blinko chants to himself in anticipation)

Last 2 weeks in the

Last 2 weeks in the

Last 2 weeks in the world

Last 2 weeks in the

Last 2 weeks in the

(Miss Lomass asks)
In the last 2 weeks, done any work?

No

 

So Raymond

Please, call me Blinko

Sir, it is your scope

Widen it and you will find

It will give you more hope

Schooled in basic sciences

Oh, and art, well that’s a start

Technical skills? experience?

Had a-n-y experience….

(Whistpered to himself)

What, of the heart?

Biology? You and me?

(Aloud)

Ah, just some chemistry

 

(Blinko slips into a day-dreamy self-whispered rhyme, to the rhythm of two out-of-sync heartbeats)

 

 

– War of three kingdoms – 

Biologists think they are biochemists

Biochemists think they are physical chemists

Physical chemists think they are physicists

And physicists think they are gods

 

God thinks he’s a bright mathematician

But with all this uncertainty

Quickly he learns that he

Needs to be a statistician

 

Cause you can wave goodbye to your functions

In this eternally collapsing circus

Where physics without thought is chemistry

And maths is physics without purpose

 

(Sound of a harp rouses him back into the real world)

 

…Really, really, ought to concentrate more

Please sign there

And keep applying for 3 jobs per month

To keep receiving your welfare

Work done, to date, aint great, so I can’t wait

To give you some assistance

No thanks, I’m fine

And work done, is force multiplied by distance

Blink! You don’t care?

What the hell

Your welfare….

Farewell!

 

(Sound of the door closing and Blinko muttering to himself as he descends the building)

 

 

– Calls to step down  –

Steps 2345678

Turn 234

Door 234

Steps 2345678

Back door. Go!

 

 

– The great skedaddle –
(Fast Instrumental cartoon tune as Blinko legs it back down the hill, it slows to the walking pace as he exits a side street and cuts through a children’s marching band)

 

Left

Left

I had a good home and I left

 

(Reading graffiti on a playground gate)

 

“There is no Planet B”

So, deface this one with graffiti?

 

(Sound of a troupe of marching children singing a clapping song)

 

“Nature and nurture had a fight (clap)

Each one said that each was right (clap, clap)

Each one said that each was wrong (clap, clap, clap)

And no one knows what’s going on (clap, clap, clap, clap)”

 

There’s no Planet B

And no one knows what’s going on

(He mulls over the words in his mouth and mind)

No Planet B, what’s going on?

 

Doomage youth with thoughts so strong

Learned or instinctive, there all along?

If inherited, we’re just born wrong

But if taught, by someone

Then this ‘folly’ deserves a ‘jolly’ song…

 

(Sound of distant marching band nearing again as Blinko hurries home, opens the gate, goes down steps, enters, slams and locks the door)