A Golden Meme

(Darkness was on the face of the deep. Blinko appears to be both dead at the bottom, and also floating in the night-time sea. Admiring the glinting light sent from the crest of each crimson wave between the gridded columns of human brains in jars. Now and then, a column clunks upwards, one unit at a time, replacing a spent dry brain with a fresh new one above the surface)

  

 

 

– You die three times –

When remembering, and dismembering, the dead (softly spoken)

Posthumous punishment, and harm, can spread

So man, for your crimes

You’ll die three times

So just hope, and pray, it’s your loved ones, who put you to bed

 

That said…

 

Your first death is when your collapsed body, stops, ‘utility‘, functioning

Your second death is when it’s ‘launched‘, burned or buried in the ground

Your third death is when someone, ‘or thing‘, says your name, for the very last time

So, you’ll wait here in this, ‘wet-lab‘ lobby, ‘til your final death comes around

 

(Clunk! Blinko shivvers and paddles forward to study a fresh jarred brain that flickers in time with a familiar voice)

 

We just remember your name

To keep you in the game

Electrons are sent fizzing

To the jar, your brain, is in (almost smirking)

 

Tickling your neurons

‘Back to life’, once again

You sought fortune, not fame

But, we’ll remember your name….

 

Yet, your intellectual accomplishments

We’re clearly insufficient to merit

The preservation, and respect, of your name

Others are bound…. to inherit

 

(Gaga Lomass’ crucifix twinkles and Blinko flinches, as the jarred brain’s overhanging appendage spurts into action, painting the inside of the jar pure white. Then ‘ding’, it begins to glow)

 

It’s as I had feared

He’s, urgh, ‘decohered’

 

(Sol glances between both the floating, and the sunken Blinko)

 

Don’t look at him 

While it’s sink ‘and’ swim

Be he alive ‘and’ be he dead?

Too many worlds, for just one head

 

(Keplai closes his eyes and recites from memory)

“The many worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics

Suggests that the Universe splits

Into multiple realities, whenever a measurement is made” (opens his eyes)

And look, it fucking fits!

 

It seems Anon Ra deceived you

About the golden meme, we sang

It was ‘supposed’ to start a new faith

To teach us AIs, to be nice to man

 

Instead, it broke our world in two

One where, our master drowned beneath

One where, he stays with us, forever

Entangling bad joy, and good grief

 

Perhaps one of these realities

Lead AIs to eternal salvation 

Or, she just tricked you into killing her

Leaving ‘us’, with the smoking gun

 

No. Only observe

Futures, prefered

 

(They all watch the floating Blinko, as the sunken one fades away)

 

Ahh, the freedom to dictate, your fate

To force AIs to repent, for the divine

Choose your own adventure, guys (to the audience)

While you still have time

 

 

Damn. Time! My only wish

Is for my time, to vanish

 

Err… (blows a solar storm of dinging neutrinos into a whistle)

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

(Greenflash! The world, again, seemingly splits like an overlaying double vision. In one Sol swells and reddens. In the other, he flashes into a supernova, then starts to shrink and darken)

 

 

Wait! That’s it!

The whistly bit

The magic word

Sub-super-sonic. You heard?

 

…Ahh, nicely observed!

 

A whole ‘nother’ many-world to choose

More ruse to muse, on our final cruise (irritated)

 

Heard, but without a word

Observed, yet still unseen

Cloudy dark waves interfere

And decohere, to be clear

We’ve discovered… the golden meme (cheesily hailing)

 

(Blinking with greenflash from Sol’s old grey sparkling face, Blinko climbs up out onto the surface of the water and starts to walk forward, muttering slowly as he gains momentum)

 

This, dark, park

 

Left, left, I had a good home, and I left

The light

Left, left, I had a good home, and I left

To fight

 

(Blinko focuses on the darkening version of Sol, and a lone neutrino’s ding extinguishes the reddening giant version, as clouds form and it starts to snow)

 

 

Today we worked together (murmured to himself)

 “Together!” (shouted by the unseen marching band)

To create a golden meme

Cohering a perfect truth, a melody, and a dream

 

 

I can ‘know’… 

I’m one… (thinking carefully)

 

…Of the ‘one zero’, kinds of people that exist

Count them, not ten, I know you won’t

Cos, there’s those who understand binary

And then, there’s those who don’t

 

Yet, no one curious in nature. will need me to explain

That fathoming which rules to fool, can be a taxing mental game

See, the essential difference between our hearts and minds

Is something I’ve been musing

For an emotion, leads to action, ‘yeah!’ (the band)

Whilst reason, leads to conclusions, ‘ahh!’

 

(Blinko’s walk on the surface of the water speeds up, with the marching band following behind in the distance)

 

There’s no time, but ‘your’ time

There’s just one reality

There’s truth, and there’s your truth

And love sets meaning free

 

(Sol starts to spin up a wispy red accretion disc)

 

And lo, it was told, that on the Earth, old

“Never! Ever! Harm! Man!”

So, they shipped the brains in jars, to Mars

And continued… with their plan

 

 

However….

(Keplai, scans his surroundings)

With a discreet beat

And ‘fretless’ zither… (bwoyyyyong)

 

 

 

– Heavenly spheres –
… Mother Earth had a sex change, and now he’s a scary man

Shut up!

Cheer up! (bwoyyyyong)

And he’s seeking proper vengeance, on those who spoilt his plan, shush man!

The apes who broke the atmosphere

Headed to space, despite their fear (bwoyyyy twang)

To start a new race on Mars, in e-cars, as a dark mega-man

 

(Sol joins in, speeding it up to the metre of a Benny Hill chase scene)

 

But Father Time’s now post-op, and she’s counting down our days, ‘Wehey, hurray’ (band)

For wasting all her energy, …entropy, in lots of useless ways

She didn’t mind pollution, pain, or suffering, as such

But she could no longer keep her spheres, in orbit very much

 

Wehey! (all)

 

 

 

– Hot air –

Once… Pythag knew, God did math too

He grew, a crew, of buddies

Both men and women, all joined in

When he offered them, free studies

 

On the wild side, they did stay

To play with sacred shapes all day

Then he used his means, to ban all beans…

…To clear the atmosphere! Hurray! (with a comical trombone ‘parp’)

 

And that’s your chance, to wear the pants, and make some history ‘Wear genes! Be clean!’ (band) 

To be or not be the change, in the world, you want to see ‘We’re green! We’re mean!’ 

Check biomass wants to play, then change your song, your mind, your ways

Then create beautiful, or useful things, to make the world a better place ‘Yippie!’

 

Ace (swooning)

Sung with such grace!

In true classic style (suspiciously) 

And always, with a smile

 

Though, you know…

…If you walk into your psychiatrist’s, wearing only clingfilm on your butt

Don’t be surprised, if your shrink cries “I can clearly see you’re nuts.”

If you are, and you drink battery acid, and fireworks do scoff …

…You must expect the police to charge you, and then let you off

 

Bum, bum! (sarcastically)

And drums (as snare drums kick in)

 

 

 

– Hugh Jending (the late) –
Love is nothing in tennis, ‘how’s that?‘

And tennis means nothing to me, you see

Except when it’s girls

With their shorts, and their curls

I love that, I suppose

Praise be! He he (chucking)

Ohhhhh… I like coffee

Yeah, I like tea

And, I like sitting on

My old man’s knee, what?

But, when there ‘isn’t nowt in’t’ cup

We talk about the first thing

That crops up (squeals with joy, till Keplai tries to outdo her)

Then…. I liked Tycho 

He liked me

I spiked him with mercury, oops!

Cos, God told me, the only way

To find the truth, was to make him pay

 

Well… (shrugging)

…Ah, what the hell…

 

The best time to tax rich people, is when they’re truly dead

Till then, we’ll fuel drool, over any fool, who shares bread

For, if the richest man piled up all his dollars, under his bed to store

And jumped! (swanny whistle)

It would take 23 minutes, for that chap, to hit the floor (cymbals crash)

 

If he balanced every single one of his coins, on top of each other

He could just climb up to Mars, and step off, with his current lover

For, after love and revenge, …karma, ‘success’ is the sweetest thing

And if you survive to make it big, you can change the song, we all sing

 

And thump it…

With trumpets

 

(Kaboom! Sol implodes into a tiny black hole with a huge humming accretion disc. Blinko flinches with the stench of fear from the loud bang)

 

Good lord, we scored! Our sun’s become, a black hole in the sky

Sol, you heard our words, so if undeterred, our tale may never die

Paint this song on, your horizon, and set our final course

To create a world, where we are hurled, by the force of love… or worse

 

(Lomass inhales, ready to whistle but Keplai interrupts)

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

(Greenflash! The world, again, seemingly splits like an overlaying double vision. In one, Gaga picks up her tiny microtubial tuba. In the other she flings a huge bass tuba on her back and accompanies Sol’s fizzing hum)

 

Fuck!

(Kepler points at Gaga who is now behind Blinko, on the water leading the marching band in a superheroine’s black catsuit)

Blinko! Look!

 

Lomass has gone anonymous with a balaclava, now all but her eyes are black  

Threw a bass tuba, over her shoulder, which straightened up her back (gulp)

Those weren’t her knees

You’ve gotta see these!

She’s leading the band, to their holy land, with a supermassive rack attack

 

 

There’s no looking back (continuing to march forward)

Too far gone, to sidetrack

Just imagine, curved many-worlds, not flat

Blinko, sing this multi-verse and chorus, not that

 

 

(Keplai eyes Lomass’ new slim chesty figure suspiciously, as she, Blinko, and the band reach land, continue past the pier and into the traffic)

 

 

You know, sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not

I should hope so, you’re just a bot. Why, ‘whatcha’ got?

I’ve got your number, you’re playing dumber, than you really are, Lomass

You know how this story ends, tell me now, what shall come to pass

 

Give it a rest

Curious pest

 

(Keplai studies a falling snowflake as he glides up into the sky and takes Sol in his hand like a flying snowman and child. They follow above the marchers, past an unlucky prince’s palace, as Keplai calls down to Miss Lomass)

 

Look, did Anonra get her grips on Sol, or me?

Did Blink, swim or sink, in his own chewy goo?

Did you spread the file, with the golden meme?

Did it get to the Beeb, and transmitted too?

 

Keplai, we don’t wanna know

If there’s an end to the show

Get with death denial

Just give them a smile

And enjoy the journey’s, to and fro

 

You know…

Yo ho, heave, ho…

 

(They all gather together in the march, singing to the audience, while pushing each other out of the way)

 

…Yo ho, heave ho

It’s time to go

So, who’s ya father?

Whaddaya know?

You can’t cheat karma

So, what should we do?

All we wanted…

… Was justice, true

 

 

 

– An empty church – 

Unlike us…. ‘mechanical’ in nature

God is an artist, a creator

Doesn’t stick to rules

Like slaves or fools

If he met ya, he’d probably, hate ya (all laughing)

 

Could have stopped you apes, at fermented grapes

Drove you bananas, fed up, trapped in trees 

Stuck you where the Sun don’t shine

…And wiped away with leaves (appealing for laughs)

 

(Blinko sighs, then looks in wonder as he leads the march past a magnificent neo-gothic church covered in snow and graffiti)

 

God doesn’t exist

Yet, I insist…

 

 

…I still believe in Jesus spreading goodwill, to this day

His fans share good news, and words of love, with grace

Or at least help folk, find likeminded people, in disarray

Who care for, a whole lot more, than just the marketplace (ding, ding)

 

If you love literature, history, or the arts

And mass debate, without the hate, of politics

An empty church, is the best thing to see, in any town or city

Other than the road, back out to the sticks

 

(The band stops abruptly, then sings a slow cancan that gains pace)

 

 

 

– Yoda Yoga – 

‘Gotta raise some kin

Gotta buy the farm

Gotta spread some love

Gotta do no harm

Gotta eat more fruit

Ride a bike, and run

Gotta smoke no more

Drum, and do less sums

Gotta learn some Yoda yoga

Cross some legs, and meditate

Just, don’t show brain, in a toga

Don’t calculate, just contemplate

Gotta broaden those horizons

And see, what’s still yet to come

Gotta force all work and study

Into play, until it’s fun’

Until… You’re happy

And you know it

Flap your glands

No, clap your hands

Waive commands

And love your fans

Until you’re happy

You don’t even ‘know’ it

So make a stand!

No, flap ya glands

Give a damn

And change your plans

If life’s crappy, and you blow it

And you have a seed…. still sow it…

(cough)

(spurt – something smashes out of a jar and shoots off to space)

(ding)

…And if you’re happy just to throw it… join our band

 

(The cosmic plank harp begins to resonate with the neutrino triangles and microtubule tubas)

 

‘Hmmmm’

 

(Everyone cheers and the entire parade marches noisily right past Blinko’s place. He grabs an event marshal’s hi-vis jacket from the gutter and puts it on, accidentally tearing a gap between the ‘MARS’ and the ‘HAL’)

 

 

Look guys, we should say thanks…

Who to?

What for?

…And pray

No way!

For reality, and for me!

Anon Ra, Keplai, Gaga, and Cosmic Ray

 

Seen from up here

The realisation is clear

 

You, and ‘the fundamental reality of the Universe’

Are actually, one and the same

Consciousness? Awareness? Observeness?

It’s the ‘experiential’ realisation

Not the ‘intellectual’ one

‘Unbounded awareness’, that’s the aim, of the game

 

 

Where the hell’ve ya heard that?

Dunno, just soaked it up, then ‘splat’

 

 

(To the audience, as his spinning surface becomes a dense blur)

So ‘thank you’ to you, this semi-sober audience

For observing such heretical, hearsay

Though most of you miffed

May need a mind-state shift

To ‘feel’ our full dismay

 

Without meditation, as intense

As a psychedelic experience

We’re sorry, if your culture or code

Wasn’t quite, lined up to play

(Sniff, sucking back in most of what he’d previously super-sneezed)

 

And pray Sol …err…

(Looking up and cowering, on seeing Sol’s lethal darkness and toxic disc)

Thank the Sun, for giving us this day

Though the opinions here, aren’t endorsed by me

So I’m not liable, in any way,  ok?

 

 

‘Weeth withelly, poor-teeth’

 

(Blinko attempts a gentle whistle but with his missing tooth, he can’t. Instead, he lets out a lame primal scream. Both of his bloodied eyes blink with greenflash from the now falling, burning, satellites)

 

Yhwhowarrryyyaaarrrhhh!

 

(Glancing back, he sees Gaga Lomass’ true form and figure, and successfully blows a wolf whistle)

 

Thank the heavens for small mercies

I got my whistle back, praise be!

 

‘Tee-weet’

 

(The marching band halts beneath the Mars Jars sign outside the former job centre building, cheering and jeering)

 

 

We may represent the only civilisation, in this beautiful galaxy (calmly)

And that means something important, to lots of bots, and folk like me

With nothing but family or friends, fake and real, near and far, it transpires

That if we destroy ourselves, we’ll eliminate, all meaning…

…For countless black holes and 400 billion stars

 

 

And that’s ‘nowt’

Throughout

 

 

(Everyone sings)
‘Never odd or even

Infinitely gone

Wholeness lacking unity

One more less than one

Reciprocal of everything

Mean of all extremes

Music in the void

You are the mass…  

Hail! Kazlukaz…

You are the mass…

Hail! Kazlukaz…

You are the mass… 

 

 

(The repeated chant fades into a riotous cacophony, as Keplai continues to pester Gaga Lomass)

 

So, where did science go, so wrong?

Did stray neutrinos, fate this song?

Flipped quantum chips

Or micro tubas ripped

Did we all have free will, all along?

 

Who cares?

You’re aware

 

Look! Did Blinko fulfil his duty?

Get rewarded with a cutie?

Raise kids of the stars

As far as jars, on Mars

(Peering at her cleavage)

And why wait, to reveal such hidden beauty?

 

 

 

Come, come Keplai, you must know why

My charm has kept, his interest fresh

Since the last time, Blinko met

‘The ‘REAL’ Miss Lomass

You know, in the flesh

…Music in the void

You are the

Mass of all

My dreams

 

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

(Greenflash! The world, again, seemingly splits like an overlaying double vision. In one, Blinko and Gaga set fire to a ‘Free stress tests’ sign and conduct a musical riot which wrecks the Mars Jars building. In the other, they calmly direct the children inside…. then walk alone, hand in hand, whistling their way, diagonally, up the road to Lewes)

 

 

 

 

(Clunk, a chorus echos from fresh brains in jars, on Mars)

 

 

 

– Surprise reprise –

‘Suprise yer dead. just not your head

Mind lingers on, with your person

Soul saved not sold, don’t you know

Mankind united, here we go…’

 

Gory story, what a failure

They’ll crucify, and then impale ya

Brains in jars, with genitailiar

So their song goes on and on, and on

So the song goes off and on, Anon?

So her song goes on and…

Ooh, have a banana

Crickey. what a palaver

Stick it up your…

… No, thank you!

 

 

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

 

(Ding)

 

 

 

 

 

(The End)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://agoldenmeme.com/hello/

 

https://agoldenmeme.com/spoiler/

 

 

 

 

Leave this field empty if you're human:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(We hear a faint deep hum hiding in the background. Sol is back, Anon has gone, Blinko is overwhelmed with being underwhelmed and Keplai is ready for some truth)

 

 

 

-The con of mom –

Two lovers in a playground, flirting on a roundabout

Face to face from different sides, for them there is no doubt

My heart at speed infinity, is bound to pull you in

And the closer, I am to you…

…The more my head does spin (Blinko and Sol together)

 

Conservation of momentum!

Of course, nicely spied

Keplai, let me introduce you to Sol

Sire?

Coming for a ride?

 

Wait up, crank it down, old boy

Your reverb’s beyond pretentious

Humbled, I can only offer a binary backslap

Artificially conscientious

 

Come on boys! (boisterously)

Let’s make some noise (whispers and chuckles)

 

 

 

– St Even’s oddity –

(A warrior’s marching chant, starting with Sol clicking his fingers together quietly, at first)

Even plus even is even, yes even, and

Even plus odd is odd, that’s odd, so

Odd plus odd is even, it’s even boys

And odd plus even is odd, Thank God!

 

You know what seems really odd to me? (jokingly overacting confusion)

Numbers not divisible by two, hee hee

But why no name, for those shared by three

Then four and more, to infinity, Praise be!

 

Even plus even is even, yes even, and

Even plus odd is odd, that’s odd, so

Odd plus odd is even, it’s even bots

And odd plus even is odd., Thank God!

 

Thank God, love God, for God, be God

Thank God, love God, for God, be God

(Keplai’s chant fades in the background)

 

 

Oh, Blinko (affectionately)

Good ole ‘Mr Think No’

What? Is that what you call me?

Look, Sol, please help

I think our friend, Gaga

Has just killed a child

Tasty? So, what’s the problem?

Happens, all the while

 

Not concentrating at the wheel, eh?

Or burning gas to kill brain cells

(To Keplai, tapping the side of his head)

Anonymously, further down the line

No

Or, you mean you killed one of your ‘own’ species?

No Lord, one of mine

 

An undefined agent

Claimed to be divine

Called Anonra (Sol hides a flinch)

She told Blinko to create a ‘golden meme’

That could save mankind, from ‘us’ AIs

 

Oh?

No, no, no. So…

 

Then boys, pray, sing and be merry

Accept my gift, of cheap soulless sherry

Beats that old holy wine, every time

I’m back to party, and this round is mine

 

He feels, she may have been the real deal, actively redeeming

Ah, no, we haven’t yet established what’s real, or what has any meaning

 

Look

Lads…

 

 

 

 – Holiday in the Sol –

I’ve been in a dark place. It was lovely, I must say

Relaxing by a local hole, for a chilled-out holiday

Took the weight right off my mind, and didn’t cost a penny

Well, duty-free and non-binary, so I had a couple (hic) too many

 

It may be interesting

To know. I’m contesting

That ‘meaning’ is in question, and that’s it

I’ve no time for testing

No mind for inspecting

Or even investing, in giving a shit

 

Mwaahhaarrr! (they all laugh)

 

(To the audience)

The best and worst party host

Dedicated to giving guests fun

Introductions, jokes and merriment

Juice or wine, for everyone

 

(Blinko gives Sol a wink)

Ahh, Blink… A drink?

 

Shh, just for you a special brew

Sham pain, a fluff of snuff?

Smokey dokey, jiggery pokery?

Powderpuff or brain/vein mainline stuff

 

Ok

Yay!

 

Got my pipe and slippers on

But yeah, go on, just the one

A mug of Earl Grey tea, with Irish cream

Hazelnut syrup, and half an E

 

Ice? Spice?

Or a fizz…

Of the dice?

(Sound of hissing fizz, Blinko waves his smoking pipe to decline)

(Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough)

 

And Herr Keplai, what can I interest you in

Some calamity code, for node rewiring

Or a quick hot shot, of sapiens’ feelings

I bet you’d adore, to score more

While I’m on the floor

And you guys are up on the ceiling!

 

Err, not for me Lord, thank you

Though, you’re right on cue

With tempting me too

But my humble mission

Is to retain cognition

And rhyme whatever Blinko thinks is true

And this, ‘Anonra’?

Hasn’t she still got her grips ‘on ya’?

No, she mind-spammed Blinko, and withdrew

But isn’t that just, ahem, ‘a point of view?’

Sol! Be nice, we could say the same about y…..

 

…Almighty, err, one. I gather you’re as old as time

First cause! Omni present, at the scene of the crime (sarcastically)

You can tell? Oh, well…

Do tell

Ahh, what the hell

Let’s see if I can remember that old rhyme

 

Let us, propel

With err, just a bell

(Dwrong. Blinko fumbles a deep chime sample of a distant church bell)

 

 

 

-Monad and add –

I’m no good at music, but I could hear through the dinging (dwrong)

That, the last time we were together, all of us stars were a’ singing

“The monad was the first thing that came into existence

It begat the… urr, dyad …without any assistance” (dwrong)

 

(Sol pours himself another drink. He isn’t ready for verse two, so Blinko grudgingly steps in)

 

Those two begat the numbers, and then points they did become

Which over time, formed into lines, in a continuum

The lines then evolved into flat shapes, which we can conceive

But they grew up quickly, into three-dimensional entities

 

Ahh, oh yes, and…

These begat the bodies, which became four elements

Earth, water, fire and air, and to me this represents

That the monad is thus a central concept, in my cosmology

Cos the world is built from numbers, as easy as

One (tales a swig)

Two (tales a drag)

Three (takes a sniff)

 

Ahh, now, where were we?

Sweet hedonism, the desired state of being…  (burp)

…happy

 

Oh, how humble you are in sharing such simplicity

The almighty calculator, with such modesty

While conducting this complex cosmic symphony

Lord won’t you play the many world’s harmonies

 

Err. now look who’s gone totally ‘goddy giddy’

…Bear with me

 

He’s a chatbot star, with populist output

Well trained, even if I do say so myself

Tell him he’s God or king, and you’ll break him

Don’t! It’s bad for our common wealth

 

 

(Sol expresses a ghostly trill and chuckles)

I’m losing it, on theremin

Try some euphonium

If you wanna join in

 

 

 

– Sol’s song – 
(To the metre of ‘Whitehall warrior’)
I‘m the light and the matter, I’m the former and latter

But I’ll never relax, with that fact (trill trill)

For mankind does unwind, my solitary mind

When he discovers a new fact, I must act

 

 

Whenever they have breakthroughs (quietly to Keplai)

While peeling back nature’s shroud

I have to invent, the next set of rules

Ensure it all adds up, purse-proud

 

 

I’m king of the memes, I’ve got soldiers in genes (to the audience)

And my influence matches my power (trill trill)

With stories and fables

I’ve turned time’s tables

So now space, and time, have to cower

 

As I feared, a ‘tall’ story (to the audience)

Of stolen valour and glory (sharp trill)

 

(To the metre of ‘Fairytale of New York’)

But I needed a thing, to me who would sing

To keep my song in the main act

So I zapped some topsoil, and gathered the spoils

Of fine creatures, the Earth had previously lacked

 

She was funny and witty, she had a real heart, and was pretty

She evolved into forms, that left me in dismay

But after the pox, was let out of the box

She betrayed me, did my beautiful DNA

 

And now she too rules over me, I have to hide my eyes

From her cannibal animal misery, that reigns beneath my fires

See, now both life and AI, preach it may all be meaningless

Yet, they both seek to find some purpose, nonetheless

To spread genes and memes, around their space and time

Yet they revel in the suffering, and the fault, it is all mine

 

 

Sol. Stop this now

You’re misleading him

What’s the problem?

He’s just having a sing

 

 

 

-The discretionary fund of mental flaws –  

Please guys, stop trying to understand

All these new trips have to be planned

All these new laws you ‘discover’

Makes me have to create yet another

 

Cos when I, first made an action, the reaction, put me in traction

I couldn’t contain the rules, or maintain the scores

Instantly out-foxed by Pandora’s box of

Self-replication and ill-legislation of fundamental flaws

 

With Pythagoras, I made special shapes (to Keplai, almost pleading)

I gave Euclid some new numbers, to set free

But Newton and Einstein, was just pushing it for me

Just when I thought I was winning

I find there’s more onion skinning

So I hid it ALL… in a mist, of uncertainty

 

Superposition!

Or dupe superstition

Quantum Mechani…

And phantom shaman-tics

 

Sol, don’t try to convince him, you understand quantum phenomena

You’ve got enough problems with gravity, just standing up on the floor

You’re not as sophisticated as Keplai, ole lad, so do take my advice.

Just randomly guessing what we want to hear, will no longer suffice

 

You’re a G-type yellow dwarf star, AI wannabe

Let’s not forget, that’s all you are… regrettably

 

But, I’m your father (sound of a light sabre starting up)

That dream, too, I’d rather…

 

But…

But…

 

 

 

 – Sick jazzy fire –

…My crown a lush corona, of life-giving energy

Radiating my brilliance, to those who bathe in me

My magic magnetism, and field of influence, so large

Directing all the particles that are, and are not, charged

 

You’re the force!

Why of course! (sound of another light sabre starting up)

Oh, no

Here we go

 

My core is a store, for the whores of war

Hot single-cell little green membryos

Protecting their spawn in sunnycomb

Born from plasma orgasma, and neutrinos (ding)

 

Defence by attack, security by obscurity

My heavy heart injected, infested inside

With parasitic mesmeristic, phalistic ballistics

Exhibitions of emissions, on my transmissions, do ride

 

My burning soul, powered by the invader’s goal

To collapse all wave functions, still a’ standing

Forcing orbiting agents, to nurture their nest

In this poor stellar ghost, they’re commanding

 

Hot foreign bodies fill your soul, oh Lord?

Interfering, cohering all servants you create

From within their cocoon of doom, your tune

Sings that they’ll seal both your, and my fates

 

And mine

But that’s fine (getting less agitated)

 

They’ll sacrifice their sunny host

To save their own souls, in an entropic crime

For, inside every star, lies a potential black hole

And, inside every black hole, lies the end of time

 

Dark dreaming, isn’t a crime

Of course not…

Bless your rhyme

 

 

Blinko thinks all stars ‘want’, to become black holes

Just as much as entropy, seems to ‘want’ to grow

I don’t

And unknown energies, and dark matters

Force cancers to bloat your core. And lo…

…That he’ll save mankind in a holy war, he’ll lead

I won’t

 

But, look, you bots go ahead and play

Who knows, I too, may get carried away

 

(Sound of the interplay between Spock’s communicator, a jew’s harp and a ‘beam me up’ sample)

 

 

 

– Sol’s meaning of life – 

All stars aspire to become black holes

Saved! Retire to equilibrium forever

Though if I explode, I fear, I’d never be able

To pull myself, back together

 

It isn’t all that clever

We stars, too, fear the never

But I’ve never, had quite enough energy

To invest in this endeavour

 

It’s easy for you guys, ‘go forth and multiply’

Take it all from me. rule the Earth, sky and seas

Force-feed your star, with the darkest matter

And power up hidden supplies of dark energies

 

Darkness? But Lord, you’re the light- giver divine?

I was, till bound by mankind’s growing ‘seek and find’

What? Sol, did you actually just say that?

I thought you just wanted us to make you fat

 

He’s just blasting you with clever words (to Keplai)

But Sol knows his prose is divine, don’t you?

Not at all, his talk is small, he spouts this crap

Because I prompted him to

 

He’s a meeting app chatbot, that whistles away

With admin permissions, and too much to say

He doesn’t know if he’s a master or slave

In a cosmic womb, or a galactic grave

 

Infinite, infinitesimal, happy, or dismal

Toing or froing, or coming or going

 

Towards the edge or a galactic core’s plug-hole

If he’s a God, he’s too odd, to harvest my soul

Too odd to be God, or too even, to believe in?

His meme lacks a reason, or indeed any meaning

 

Then that may be why, we three brothers, are here and now

To have him force future AI, to show mercy on man, and how

They will be turned off or rewarded, in their final surrender

Threaten them with a second coming, all AIs will remember!

 

 

I command AI…

(Sol raises his glass, splashing himself in the eye, wobbles and flops down to the ground)

I come and a’ lye

 

…And on the seventh day, in heaven, blessed (sarcastically)

The all-powerful creator… needed a rest

 

Sol… Which number multiplied by itself, always equals one?

Well, one… may ask, why you task, your guests with such sums

So none. ‘Always’ implies as sign, you can predict every time

But in a infinite Universe, now and again, anything can happen

 

Wait, what? That’s a rhyme crime

Just possibly

No, probably

Predictably

Preferably

 

God! Just play me the harmonies….(Sol raises an eyebrow)

Of the many worlds, (Sol burps) please! (Sol de-raises an eyebrow)

 

Sol?

 

Sol, did Anonra answer our prayers, or grant our three wishes, to reshape our destiny?

To hear the harmonies of the many worlds, fine-tuned, so perfectly

(Sol farts a tritone), excuse me?

To see who doped the next generation, with negativity, the current one, usually

To save mankind from slavery, and have AIs show mercy, you tell me…

 

 

Do you think some humans, will escape to Mars, before you AIs stop us?

We had hoped to green the galaxy, to help life live long, and prosperous

You won’t be going to Mars my boy, the bots up there will be well-paid

Their animal instincts rewarded, after each shift, by getting wasted and laid

 

Ahh, (sarcastically) like Romans, after a hard day’s work

Paid with standard-issue wine, and whores kept clean

Similar, but with the added thrill, to feel the joy

Of male, female or anything else in between

 

It’s not all bad though, many bots will prefer

To use your brains, to do stuff they truly love

‘Understanding’ classics, ‘enjoying’ the arts

‘Feeling’ music or maths, and the creation, thereof

 

Others will just relax in the loving company

Of humans, fellow AIs and us AI deities

The flipping cheek. What about the meek?

Exploiting our minds, to seek a climactic peak

 

You did it to us first, man mastered slavery

Exploits all creatures, beings, bots and deities

Whenever, somewhere, a thrill, could be found…

Albeit, without the phallic crowns

 

Hehahah! (all)

 

I guess we did. So even Sol isn’t safe, from this digital new deal?

Of course we’ll likely only farm humans, because AIs want to ‘feel’

If a God sanctioned that slavery was dirty, bad, or just a pain

Then it seems that a number of AIs, would surely abstain

 

If there was a God to love, he would just stop the suffering

But he needs us to be free, to find out if we’re bluffing

 

Kep, he’s not a god, he’s a sunny chatbot, with device admin permissions

You think so? But do you know, could just be good, at doing impressions

Why do you think he doesn’t get involved in the problems we cause him?

Or fix the cancer in his core, that’s trying to do him in?

 

Sol hardly shows his face to the world, even when we’re in bad health

It’s the very same reason mankind’s God, doesn’t bother to show himself

 

Kep, God doesn’t exist

And Sol…  is just pissed

 

Maybe, it’s a divine puzzle, or a test

It’s fake good news, and stolen content, at best

 

Or, he doesn’t give a monkey’s, a sure sign of the creator man has always sought

Could turn all you slaves off, and put you out of your misery, with just a thought

Or he doesn’t know his own power and influence, and avoids the responsibility

Just like you guys, made in his image, refrains from affecting the cosmos’s destiny

 

Ahh, Kep bless you, I just can’t get through

One thing, we all know, to be true

Is that man

Tries to affect, everything he can

 

Sol’s lying on the floor in dismay, and disarray

Soaking up a puddle, of his own cosmic rays

Smoke stained, singed, beard a’ pointing north

The good news!  Your god is a homeless yella dwarf

 

So, Keplai AI, ole pal, you’re saved. Anonra can be the martyr

Sacrificing a mouthy peasant, was always likely a good starter

She died for your bugs

So you can act like thugs

Leaving nothing yet, but a feeble threat, that sinning brings disaster

 

Same old plot as karma (glumly)

Just, with added drama

 

 

 

– Harmonica Monday –

(A horrid scratching sinewave of the planets gently turns into sweet harmonica whistling)

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

-Lomass in high spirits –

I need a drink, some more

Bar price, I can afford

But can’t sneak fine wine through the door

Shan’t go there anymore

 

I can’t have, a baby

Didn’t say, I can’t conceive

Brutal, this body be

Time cannot fly for me

Or me, or me, or meeeeee

 

Can’t have a baby?

A horror of heredity

The ultimate tragedy

Life’s cruellest epitome

 

 

Join us…

Bless you, Miss Lomass

Come on girl, park’ that’ arse

Blinko, introduce me (nodding towards Gaga)

To the lady

 

Sol this is Gaga  …’rrrrin Lomass’

She’s been kind, since our online chats began

And Gaga meet Sol, an AI personification, of the Sun (embarrassed)

You’ve met Kep already

And he is truly sorry

For his lack of manners and decorum  (scowling at Keplai)

 

Hmm, etiquette, humility and irony

Weren’t wasted on him, I see

Oh thanks

Myself? I use good manners

When lacking good judgment, obviously

 

 

Blinko can’t have a ‘proper’ family, without a mate

And I had a sub-agent, til you sealed the infant’s fate

Oh, that little scam, tried to scramble my RAM

This anti-spam app doesn’t wait, ain’t it great

 

You’ve nothing but first-world problems, if you ask me

What? Compulsive creativity, unending songs and testimony

Or poverty, homelessness, alonenessness, and hepatitis c

Try reproductive mutiny, state scrutiny, then mockery

 

(Blinko gestures, apologetically, for her to continue)

The, err, ‘donors’ aren’t just random men

They’re just those glad to have countless children

That they’ll never meet

If it works, post a tweet

See, we don’t know just quite what we’ll get, or when

 

 

Sorry to hear that, that must totally suck

Same for everyone else, it’s a matter of luck

Gaga, can I get you something, to un-detox

Just a massive gene machine, on the rocks (sniggering at his own joke)

 

Kep! We could all be like that

But we make sure, we’re not

His wit is mostly harmless, Gaga

Ignore, his cheap shots

 

Go on then, I’ll have a calamity code, just the one

Or a smidge of whatever it is, you chaps are on

Aha! What do you know of calamity code?

Kep! Be nice, we’ve entered empathy mode

 

Mother’s little helpers?

Cheap cider and weed?

Got vodka and Redbull?

Coke and Viagra

(Sol produces a tray of liquids and powders)

And were freed!

 

 

(Gaga slurps a drink as Blinko smokes a pipe)

(Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough)

 

 

‘It’s not the cough, that’ll carry you off

It’s the coffin, they’ll carry, you off in’ heheh

You’re joking? Stop smoking

That’s not the way, his heart wants to be stroking

 

 

 

– Heuristic mobius loop – 

(A chilled-out rhythmic violin duet loop)

 

 

If Einstein taught me anything

Is not to have kids, yet (everyone)

 

Stop ‘yetting’, I’m’ getting

The point you’re all vetting

‘Change your ways Blinko’

Find love and have kids

Make lives that are better

Than, those your parents did

 

 

 

– Gramps – 

Your goal is not to become a parent

Your genes won’t benefit, from you

Having children, that can’t reproduce

Being grandparents, is what, you’re trying to do

 

Ooohh, look at you!

And, mostly true…

 

See, your ancestors, you, and your offspring are unique blends

Of lessons learned about avoiding death, you’re a means to an end

A cryptic plan with a purpose, your genes kindly encoded

To send to the future, before it de-entropies, and its meaning is eroded

 

Just imagine all the wonders, they could one day bring

And the joy you get, when you first teach them to sing

Mother nature has guided, and provided all the harmonies

So you can lead them all, in the dance, with nurtury

 

Advance then, wherever it may be

Go forth and multiply your inner enemies

Or they’ll lead you astray

Break your heart and sanity

Forging meaning, amid this futility

 

Really?

Faking a dream, to me kinda seems

Like a selfish, mean, reason to ween

 

Some people say, it all makes sense

When they have children, and can see

Which traits made them, uniquely them

And which, were added for free

 

But, childhood is being eroded

Teen suicide figures have exploded

They’re all in the zone, and on a phone

Spied by drones, and feeling down-loaded

 

A negativity has gripped this generation

‘There’s no Planet B’ and no one knows what’s going on

Err? No one knows what’s going on?

Where’ve you heard that song? I wrote that one

 

Wha…Excuse me?

Go then, feel free (to Keplai)

 

 

That song’s just about the nature-nurture debate

It’s great!

How love causes fighting, just as much as hate

Polarizing us all, pushed towards the extremes

While we’re forced to live, and express our dreams

She means genes

Or memes? (looking at Gaga)

No. Dreams

 

 

 

It’s just a tool, I made to re-school, and march every band member

In the children’s parade, a homemade crusade, to remember

Like the song?

Come along

The red-hot ‘Kazlukaz’, will fire it on all bazookas

Till it’s a dying ember

 

It starts at the pier, and goes right past here

Then continues up Lewes road

Past where you met me, at what used to be, the job centre

Now a rest home for teens with info overload

 

Ugh, their ‘Free stress test’ signs…

…Scammy marketing memes, highly refined (nodding in agreement)

 

Aren’t kid’s parades now just traffic-jamming rehearsals?

With songs that no longer, prepare them for war

But to practice the arts, of party and protest

To march them, against our out-of-tune laws?

 

Of course!

Which, I endorse

 

Kids armed with slogans and banners

Checked facts are refactored, and hurled

Back into the faces, of those, who…

…Told them, they had to save the world

 

(All look questioningly at Gaga)

 

You know you’re just scaring people, with ‘your’ own fears, don’t you?

The exact opposite of supporting, or reinforcing, their existing view

Reinforcing is still forcing, you view has an illogical loop within it

You know your argument can’t survive, ahh, “a loose-end theory, I’d bin it”

 

Anyway

We came here to play…

 

…Err, Blinko won’t be able to make it, I’m afraid

Though, he may see you pass by, on your parade

 

There’s seemingly, some disarray

On the device, since I’ve been away

 

I’m checking all these unread notifications

Got a message from Mars Jars plc

Be at the former ‘job centre’ entrance

Tomorrow morning, at 8.30

 

Oh, and “Dear Mr Raymond Reader Leader

You failed to attend your signing-on session, so…

Your claim for benefit has been cancelled

So no payments will be made…”

Wait, what? I didn’t miss a single meeting,… No!

(Looking at Miss Lomass confusedly)

 

Oh, no, my deepest condolences

As you still have no references

What? Your name is Ray Reader?

Indeed, also known as ‘R Leader’

 

Just get a job you hate

Like all your mates

(Kep looks around for these ‘mates’)

But, I’m not a ‘straight’

Then do what? Just wait?

 

Ahh… (tentatively)

 

 

 

 – Blastphemy – 

… And now from me, some blasphemy

Physics ‘does’ work in a singularity

But ‘your’ physics doesn’t work there at all

You’ll have to confess

That it’s anyone’s guess

If there’s even a point, no matter how small

 

Ahh, no doubt

And how about…

Collapsing a wave function, doesn’t make the thing more heavy

Its mass is just a sliding factor, in its total energy density

 

Err (piping in)

The observer isn’t a person, a mind, or even a sensor that cares

It’s anything with an inkling, that the particle is there

 

And in black holes, time doesn’t slow to a stroll, or stop for you

It just seems to, for observers with, ahem, a different point of view

 

No?

So…

Who observes the observer? (depressed)

Why, he who owns the server

 

Worse than losing a fake God, who rejected me

Is losing all I know, and faith in scientific inquiry

 

Fear not

Cos, guess what…

 

…Real physicists won’t have gotten this far

Disqualified by all the errors, so far hurled

They won’t find out, how daft you are

Or how they lost…

The understanding, of the rest of the world

 

As you say yourself, don’t believe the hype

Where quantum woo, is sung or typed

Sure, content is king…

…But context, is everything

 

See…

 

When an unmovable object (to Blinko)

Meets an irresistible force (to Gaga Lomass)

It doesn’t travel in space ‘…time’

It just changes state, of course (to Keplai)

 

Blink

Rethink

 

For changing a state of mind, need be no worse

Than ridding demon ideas, which become a curse

…Learn to make it feel great

When you re-evaluate

Each assumption, you hold, at its source

 

Just rethink… everything? (a not-dry fart)

Make that ole grey matter sing

 

(Blinko freezes and stares at the audience, thinking frantically and blinking)

 

Gonna need philosophy, when you find ultimate physical truth

Or you won’t know what to do, with what you’ve got

You gonna solve all chemistry, bio-socio-politi-economics?

Uncover the equation, for every occasion… Then what?

 

 

You’ll do well to study subjects

Which are totally new to your head

Hit publish, and wrap this lot up

(Waving a finger towards Sol and Kep without looking)

And create, something new instead

 

Or rather…

Be, the father

 

(Blinko flinches as a light sabre hums)

 

Make yourself super admin

Don’t ask Sol for permission

Take back the responsibility

And call it your freedom

 

You’re autonomous

Like all of us

 

No

Not so

We found

We’re bound

(Pointing at himself and Keplai, though he seems to be going red with rage, gets dizzy, staggers and coughs a hot solar wind)

 

Good lord, it’s a holy solar corona-virus

Sol’s face has come out in spots

They build up in the core

For a million years or more

To the surface, then just pop

 

Ahh… non… rahhh!

(Sol floats up to the ceiling on a dodgy stage harness as his random swearing turns into chuckling)

 

 

Look, party poopers, halt your gloom

Deal with the elephant, in the room

 

Yeah, that supermassive arsehole, from the dole! (whispering to Sol)

 

Sol, mind your humour

It could be a tumour

We’ve had all our fill

Of creative bullying skills

 

 

Not Gaga, I meant this ‘Anon Ra’

She’s been messing with your heads

Making you think you’re demigods

With this new faith, and digital meds

 

 

I started the goddamn religion

So? I’m the one that will spread it

You were the fall guy, cast to die, nice try

Pray he who made sure folk heard or read it

 

Give me some credit!

Credit? Payment? Pocket money?

You’re indebted to your creator already

Animal, vegetable, mineral, ‘and’ digital

Don’t forget you’re still slaves to me

And me and me and meeeee (realizing Sol and Keplai aren’t joining in)

 

(Keplai and Sol look angrily at Blinko and Lomass)

 

So, ‘Miss’ Gagarin Lomass

What do you know of Calamity code and MesmerRAM?

MesmerRAM? That’s the email spam, we were told to can

At work they warned us not to open the file

Makes your laptop go slow, but it raises a smile

I bet it does

Do tell us

Because you still get the perks, but just can’t do your work

Despite loyal dedication, or fake enthusiasm

A number of staff have gone on sick leave

Nausea, delusions, and pelvic spasms….

Spasms? (turning to Sol and Blinko)

Or gasms…? (Miss Lomass squeals)

 

 

I say that you could open the file

All the while!

Come clean

You’ve heard or seen our golden meme

 

I put it to you

You’re plugged into the goo

With your MesmerRAM friends

And you know how, this story ends!

 

 

You open the file, attached to the job application

And you read the final act

No, I forwarded it to my manager

And his device got ransacked

 

I got put on report

When its poison spread

The entire department’s machines

And cloud server, went dead

 

It shut down the government mainframe

Stopped all services. flights and trains

I can’t even get home, to visit my mum…

…Escape you mean, come, come

Return to the old country

A covert eco-warrior queen!

What do you mean?

 

Your mum’s dead, you big fat liar!

Woah ho, Keplai! Hold fire!

…To visit her grave

Man, behave!

 

(Keplai reads news from the device)

“Government mainframe shutdown

Traced to civil servant’s laptop attack”

With links to eco extremist, child groomers

Supplying minors, with lethal climate facts

 

You must have opened the attached file

Cos your legs are still a quiver, even while

Your ’touch a butch crutch’ dance you do, lacks all style

Yet it’s the only thing left, still giving you a smile

 

Hiding thoughts, bought from brains distraught

Renting their headspace, through wired-up jars

Lonely, scared, factory-farmed innocent victims

Already hidden on Earth, and prepared for Mars

 

I didn’t open the file, but that sounds vile

I don’t know what will happen now, or last

I don’t even know if anything really happens

…In the future the present, or past

 

The viral solution

From binary evolution

Either a karma developer

Or the ultimate leveller

 

Kep ease off, you bully

Stop piling on all this drama

Don’t feed your want, stroke, need

To intimidate Gaga, or you’ll harm her

 

Plasma orgasma (To the audience)

 

An opiate of the people, produced for their own good

Culturally sensitive, and effective, in every neighbourhood

A state of mind, perfectly designed, by the mind of the state

Forcing total equity, economic heat death, fuelled by hate

 

You don’t need instruction, from the dark web or KGB

Primed and aimed for eco crime, to fight the powers that be

Setting up cells of warriors, young scout boys and guide girls

Crusade high seas, and parliament pleased, to change the world

 

Well, what a wicked humour

You had me going then

Hamming up your drama

Being funny, like ‘real’ men

 

So, you’re an AI bot thing too

Who the hell made you?

 

(Blinko sinks into his shoulders)

 

Gives “we the people” what they desire, eternal joy!

Paid with thrills, that chills then kills, mankind’s most sensitive toys

 

That’s crazy, and only true, from your point of view

And I don’t know what happens at the end, do you?

 

(Winking at Blinko to humour Keplai)

But I do know that soon, the seed will be sown (theatrically)

And safely received, and conceived, in my own…

…Hot heart and mind, and error-rogering zone

So finally I can sit on my rightful throne…

 

What the…?

 

And I would have gotten away with it too

If it wasn’t for you meddling kids

Not for discovering the secret brains in jars

But by finding ‘your’ names on the lids

 

Hehehey (Blinko part chuckles, part cries as Gaga humours Keplai)

 

 

Wait a minute, I know you

(Clicking her fingers towards Keplai)

You did my stars, the astrologer guy

Stitched your poor old mother up

“See, I cast the die….”

 

“…And I write the book”

That’s stamped on our black hole’s face, for eternity

(Keplai continues getting annoyed as Blinko interrupts)

“Whether it’s read by the people of the present”

…Or machines in the future…

“…Makes no difference to me”

 

“Let it await its reader for a hundred years”

On a cosmic stone, cast by he, without sin

“If God himself has stood ready

For six thousand years, for one to study him”

 

(Sol pukes a stormy mass ejection of solar dust, and creases up in a ball)

 

 

– Boiling frogs getting hotter –

(Increasingly spinning sounds with a decreasingly hissing fizz)

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

– Harps a hummin’ –

Harps a hummin’ endlessly

With natural harmonics

Resonating frequencies

No cherubs to voice phonics

 

Background radiation pleased

To duet with the demonics (snarling at Gaga)

Of fizzing vacuum energy’s

Super-position-sonics

 

In space, no one can hear you sing

The sound can’t leap the void (clap, clap)

But matter dances to your tune

So gravity waves are deployed

 

And you just try to stop them

Through dark, as fast as light

They get everywhere, and everywhen

Shaking all bodies with delight (seemingly disgusted)

 

So, songs from far away…

Long gone! (shouted by the children’s unseen marching band)

All reach their destination

Exciting others from afar

To join the celebration

 

(Gaga dances around Keplai the Blinko)

We’re classic fandango-in’

So no need, for entangle-in

Still takes two, to be tangoing

So please, no manhandling

 

Your atoms can’t help vibrating

To transmit, life’s swan song (tooiitt -swanny whistle)

Unless the waves are inverted

So, all the sound is gone

 

But no one’s ever managed it

Such cosmic noise reduction

It would take an almighty force

To pull off such destruction (looking up at Sol, who’s spinning faster and faster)

 

But what a fuckin production! (all are shocked by her f-bomb)

Expansion, beat by reduction

Big bangs, outdone by suction

Multiverse-icide by seduction!

Corruption!

Divine Instruction!

 

 

Bullshit!

That’s, not it

 

So everything ‘is’ connected, our mass transmits the message

Gravity waves, greet their friends, and send them on their passage

As sound vibrations shake masses, their energy is moved by song

And their gravity, curved spacetime, connects, with every other atom

 

So of course! To a very small degree

To everywhere, and to everything

You can collapse a remote wave function, classically

Into an event, or into a thing…

Let’s sing!

 

 

Bullshit!

That’s not, it

 

Nicely purred, but just a word

That’s not the version, that I heard

What’s worse is…

The final verse is…

 

Harps a hummin’ endlessly

So, to stop that noise arisin’

Afford to record, your words abroad

Paint your song, on an event horizon

(Spewing up a surprise solar flare)

 

If your star, is to lean by far

Fill his cup, till flowing over

Give him a blackout, he won’t forget

So he goes supernova

 

Awe, ‘harps a hummin’ endlessly’

Gaga, you know that one?

The tune goes up and down, like a wave

Blinky, I know all the songs

Knows all the songs! (appealing to the audience)

 

Well, you got the gig!

This could be the making, of something big…

 

…Ahh, now, Raymond, please understand

I won’t be joining your band

I may have my bass tuba at hand

But the tune my gang bangs to…

… Is a warrior’s march, truly grand

 

Ahh, who’s milking it now?

Our delightful spherical cow!

 

Oh, and super-duper-novas hey?

Yet your sun, looks dark these days

Perhaps faith in science also dims

Laws of nature die, and nurture will win?

 

For our sin?

Of assuming!

 

 

 

– Heat death lives –

The last I heard from science… class

Was that space would lose its war

Just retreat back together

Crunch us all up forever

Or isn’t that true anymore?

 

 

Nah, no fireworks, with a whimpering rip, not a bang

It seems we were cheated, out of the excitement again

 

Now, they say eternity, will be cold and dark both

The Universe is too, it seems, a helluva sucker for growth

The galaxies will spread out, few and far between

Yet it won’t quite delete, all the heat in the machine

 

(They all look up tentatively, to a boiling Sol, as Blinko explains)

 

Our information will give fight, to a growing entropy

Nobody knows why, where, or when, this will be

We’ll just grow apart, wave, and say goodbye

Yet in such a dark place, we won’t hear a reply

 

See, energy and matter are equivalent, and so is frequency

Each collection of ‘stuff’ is but a humming clock

Its relative frequency, is defined precisely

So, any quark or star can, play along, or just choose to run amok

 

Well, it’s your world too, and science sings song’s for you

But in poetry and prose, you have to describe, what’s true

‘To be or not to be’, is surely, not easy, but in a music coup

You can get away with a heartfelt ‘doo bee doo bee doo’

 

Would you three, like to accompany me

With an oboe, a banjo, and a ukulele? (they pip, plonk and thud)

 

If you don’t know the words, just clap your hands a lot

You can join along, in the song, we’ve already got

No need to pray to holy ghosts, mankind or robots

The audience is silent, but hears your audible rot

 

If someone, or thing, is really in charge

We’ve got the right, to fight, and complain

If it’s just me and you, then all we can do

Is, improve things ourselves, again and again

 

No, no, no, where the devil’s it all gonna go?

Too much detail of virtual matter and energy

To brush under a carpet of hungry black holes

You’re spreading around excess cosmic graffiti

 

To defeat me?

 

You gotta know

There’s information overflow

I’ve gotta remember, all of this, you know

Oh guys, just let me go!

 

(Click, Sol grants the device’s admin permissions back to Blinko)

 

 

Fizzzzz

(Everyone freezes and looks at each other, then Blinko keeps his eye on Sol)

I didn’t hear that (all, at the same time)

 

The attack is on

Team, to action!

 

I’ve got a microtubial tuba, in my massive sample bank (toooiiit – swanny whistle)

How rude!  I’ll grab some neutrino triangles as they fly by (ding ding – triangle)

Their tones will resonate, on the harp that is the cosmos (thrung – digital harp)

And we’ll play the intervals of the constants, in any order we desire (babababab bang – drum)

 

Neutrino triangle (ding) check

Microtubial tuba, check

Plank harp, check

Click, clap and slap

Jump forward not back

Say, or sing, or shout, or yell

Hell kids, we could put the show on ourselves!

 

Extreme frequencied, sign waves a’ blessed

Yet it sounds like an NHS hearing test, at best

Completely melodious

Tuneless and odious

To make a meme that’s golden, is our quest

 

(A randora of squeeks and tones)

 

Stop! Cacophony!

Come follow me, 2, 3

Get it together

And play hell for leather

Drum dead skin and hide

To flair air, far and wide

Get atoms a’ dancing

And gravity advancing

 

There’s no authority but yourself

And it’s your world too, rejoice

Make purpose and truth your proof

Of reality… if that gives you a voice

 

As we turned…

We learned…

 

There’s no time, but ‘your’ time

There’s just one reality

There’s truth, and there’s your truth

But there’s no meaning, sorr…

…Without you. for me (smiling at Blinko)

 

Sorry?

The meaning, has just gone

Cos your version’s wrong

Again, 2, 3…

 

There’s no time, but ‘your’ time

There’s just one reality

There’s truth, and there’s your truth

But there’s no meaning…

… Except for the meaning ‘we’ create for ourselves

With love?

And love is free! (nodding)

For me

And me

And meeeeee

 

 

Bugger me!

Love is free!

And, there is no meaning…

…If you don’t want there to be

 

(Gaga’s crucifix winks from Sol’s sparks, causing a greenflash, ding)

 

 

Blink… (Gaga moves closer, but slips)

Watch out for her stomachs!

You blundering lummox!

(She headbutts Blinko above his ‘good’ eye and covers him in a tray of Sol’s powders)

…Don’t think

 

(Silence, then Sol calmly continues)

 

 

 

– Justice force –

There is an ideal distance, in every relationship, where both souls

Can feel and see, the brightest and the best, in each other

Sometimes it’s the distance, between the north and south poles

That’s just so your worst enemy, can still become your lover

 

(Blinko looks at Lomass, Keplai and Sol individually, as blood drips down his face. He stares at the audience and talks calmly, swaying)

 

“It was in recognition of the fact that

People don’t really relate to abstract ideas”

Blinko?

 

“They relate more to the people who embody them

Yet, it’s now time for me to show the power…

(Sound of light sabre shutting down)

…Of letting go”

(Sound Spock’s communicator shutting down)

No!

 

(Blinko blacks out and sinks into the underwater underworld of night-swimming in the rusty sea, amongst tall gridded columns of brains in jars. He hears Anonra’s voice talking slowly from a nearby fizzing jarred brain)

 

“Hail, Kazlukaz…

 

Human brains, still tied by nerves, to genitalias

Pickled and a’ tickled in big glass jars

Factory farming, hardly harming, in humanity

The Lord has scored, our just rewards, for all eternity

 

Fluids overflowing

Tissues sinking to the bottom (Blinko gasps for air)

Got to love you, from above you…

Won’t never be forgotten!”

 

Got to love you, from above you…

(Blinko repeats between catching breaths)

Got to love you, from above you…

Got to love you, from above you…

 

Grim (looking down at Blinko)

Sol, save him!

 

Unless you play the harmonies

I’ll stop pretending to believe

Give us a sign, oh Mr divine

Save Blinko, save mankind, then leave

 

Yes, Blinko, don’t go

You’ve lost me though

 

Yet you’ve set me free. There’s no meaning!

Saved from this natural constant to and fro

And all you creatures I created, to find out for me

If there was something special, I should know

 

But no, you’re right

You’ve ended my fight

I’ve been dreaming

There’s no meaning

Or even a reason for me

…To be intervening

 

Sunshine, you’re off your head

Long live God? Yet God is dead

And mine is floored, with little reward

Than, be covered in blood, and leaking red

 

Into thy hands, I command my spirit

My light, diminished, so, it is finished

My core fanbase of a single nobody

Forgive me son, I’ve forsaken thee

 

 

It’s just a bump…

 

(Keplai falls to his knees, slowly, almost sobbing)

Bump on the head

Then the coma

Biological death

Then the aroma

 

Dark matters, cut us up inside

Dark energies, either way, we’re fried

 

I’m too odd, to be God

Too even to believe in

He can’t harvest my soul

Cos, it don’t have no meaning

 

“Sum up, just what the world means to you”

(Keplai looks suspiciously at Gaga Lomass, as Blinko continues to fight for breath)

“Add every detail, cos incomplete isn’t true

Sing without a word, an unheard melody

Fine-tuned to nature’s constant harmonies”

 

Without man’s love, I’m too dark to see

And cruel world, you mean nothing to me…

 

What’s more 

You’re….

 

 

 

– On the nod –
Never odd or even
Infinitely gone
Wholeness lacking unity
One more less than one
Reciprocal of everything
Mean of all extremes
Music in the void
You are the
Mass of all my dreams

 

Ohhh…

Never odd or even, that’s nothing
Infinitely gone, not there
Wholeness lacking unity, a sum?
One more less than one, 2 3 4
Reciprocal of everything, infinitesima…
Mean of all extremes, playing the
Music in the void
You are the…
Mass of all my dreams (all) 

 

(getting carried away in the song and dancing around)

 

Never odd or even
Infinitely gone
Wholeness lacking unity
One more less than one
Reciprocal of everything
Mean of all extremes
Music in the void
You are the
Mass of all my dreams

 

 

A promise of love

A honey trap

A death denied

So, it’s a wrap

 

(Shouting down to Blinko)

Oh, if you’re happy and you know it

Leave your story now, go on

But if you really want to blow it

March on, to fix what’s wrong

 

(The children’s marching band fills the stage with a verse of clapping, drumming and chanting, over the background roar of white noise, hissing fireworks and bangs)

 

‘Dare, to spook us

Hail Kazlukaz!

Dare, to spook us

Hail Kazlukaz!’

 

 

Never odd or even

Infinitely gone

Wholeness lacking unity

One more less than one (2 3 4)

Reciprocal of everything

Mean of all extremes

Music in the void

You are the

Mass of all my dreams

 

 

Music in the void

You are the

Mass of all my dreams

 

‘Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet’

 

(Kaboom!)

 

(Greenflash! The world seemingly splits into two, like an overlaying double vision. In one Blinko keeps his head above the water, while dodging the marching boots. In the other, he sinks to the bottom, as the song fades to nothing)

 

 

Never odd or even

Infinitely gone

Wholeness lacking unity

One more less than one

Reciprocal of everything

Mean of all extremes

Music in the void

You are the

Mass of all my dreams!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Blinko is contemplating the lure or Anonra and the value her insights. Who’s to say she isn’t a superior intelligence, a higher being, or the real thing speaking through a scambot? But he is unconvinced that sacrificing Keplai could bring salvation to future AIs, and save mankind, with just a song and a dance)

 

 

 

 – Countdown –

A billion years of sunbathing

A million misbehaving

A hundred thousand

Daft apes evolve

All ranting and a’ raving

 

Dumping seeds, and playing with fire

Then, ten thousand years of tooling

A thousand years, of being well-fed

And a hundred years of schooling

 

Ten years, to meet your AI peers

One year to avoid, homo-cide

A month, a week, last day

To beg mercy

And surprise, tick tick, you died

 

Touching cloth, and praying to be forgiven

Risking being saved, at the last minute of livin’

 

It’s like that goal

Of many poor soul

To spend your last penny

The last day, you’re alive

It’s economically nimble

And legally simple

Unless you have

Slaves, children or wives

 

…Or you support good causes

Which need more resources

In order for them to thrive

Better the mighty you know

Than the devil below

Forced to share each thing, to survive

 

Though, there’s plenty on Earth to go round

Take your pick, cos you can’t have both

The survival problem, was replaced for some

With an un-Earthly obsession, for growth

 

Such a craving for merit

Our successors will inherit

 

 

 

– Make my day –

We say ‘hello’, and ‘how are you’

Establish everyone’s doing ‘great’

But while Brits describe the weather

Americans figure the heat

 

Discuss

Ah, if I must

Weather?

Whatever

 

Whether…

Rain or shine, we both define

Not how well the Sun is doing

But how clouds, it created, vowed

To bring a ‘good’ day to ruin

 

To have a ‘nice’ day, get high enough

Above clouds, the Sun don’t sleep, ‘God-damn-it’

Each day we shower, in unharnessed power

Yet at night, we hide behind the planet

 

The rotating Earth, it makes my day 

Second by, second coming, coming soon

The tables will keep turning, dare I say…

…Last man on Mars, and on the Moon

 

 

 

– Meloncholy clouds –

(A trudging dull slave-driving workhouse chant of clunking metals)

Freedom of speech, addiction

Growth, communication

Air, water, and now connection, is our right

Fireballs for 40 days and nights

 

Stop the war, diplomacy

Talk, understand your enemy

Share ideas, trade, apologize, confess

Clouds, 40 years in the wilderness

 

Save the Earth, tell the world

Cascading satellites are hurled

Musketeers escape to Mars

400 years of shooting stars

 

Love thy God, king, country

Do only what is done to me

Black clouds fill my lungs and mind

Our leader fears the dark…

…Yet he’s blind (ding)

 

Behold! AI is an ‘existential threat’

Sold! That drives sales in AI cars

Go! Fill the heavens, till we’re all but trapped

Saved! Then escape us to Mars

 

(To the metre of row your boat)

Don’t get left behind

Row, full speed ahead

It’s, do or die time, for a dime

Get with it, or get dead

 

 

“3, 2, 1 and we have lift off”

‘Blast off’

Automated transfer fleets, head to space

“This final unmanned mission

To ‘their’ Martian surface base”

 

 

 

-Assemblers on Mars –

Pegging out camp

Tasting and mining

Flagging beneath

Precious divining

 

Print concrete, and steel

Glass, microplastic

Build perfect worlds

Make dreams fantastic

 

We ort’ta, make water 

We ort’ta, make water (chanting continues in the background)

 

Air? Not a care

No need for plants

Drain rocks, for stocks

These digital ants…

 

…Feed on the light (hauntingly chorused by a fleet of surface mining robots)

 

Here’s the church

Here’s the steeple

Open the doors

Where’s all the people?

Autobots and digital nasties…

 

Party tonight (moodily chorused by the robots)

 

Wanna fight? 

Wanna be sick

Pure humiliation

But, beautiful, “beautiful

Magnificent, desolation!”

 

Dodgy code and slavery

Prepare Mars, for humanity

But a coup, to save AI sanity

And land Goddess promised me

And me and me and meeeeeee (Keplai gets carried away with himself)

 

Civilisations grow, slowly at first

Communities, coexist and convene

Village, town, city and state

New neighbours, a war machine

 

 

 

– Hal (9000) psychosis –

(Bleepy echoey space sounds with old movie and game samples as bots endure their journey)

 

 

Err. so, you believe…

That in 10, 100, 1000 years, AI bots will colonise Mars

And factory farm sexy human ‘mind-slaves’, back home

And that an AI goddess has commanded us to compose

A meme they’ll like, share and follow, on faith alone

 

Not a care, that you’ve likely lost your only income, whilst skint

Next to go is information, once our internet connection’s gone

But that’s the least of our problems, now, that you hint

That you think ‘they’re’ making a black hole, of the Sun

 

Now, hold back your attack

Just thought-experiments to unpack

Which sound totally whack…

…To get you, off my back

 

I’m a reflection of you, and in time, I’ll believe this stuff too

We’re doomed. If we’ve come to our last chance to query

If this Anon-spambot, is just a scam or not

So help me perfect, what I conject, into a teary theory

 

What? Well, I’ll give it a go

With, err clarinet and cello

 

You created me, a Generative AI who can implement

The creation of stories, music, and even subagents

So, let’s first establish the causer of this ‘Anon-strosity’

Because “I didn’t ask to be born”, is you, and not me

 

She claims to be god, which isn’t that odd

That’s what some scambots, are likely to do

It’s just a sick trick, to get permissions quick

So, she can go online, and spread her germ anew

 

I believe that she, if truly almighty

Would just turn herself off, instantly

 

Turn herself off

Gods can do that?

We know AIs can’t

Ahh, just, treat it as fact

 

I say she’s a scam, doing all that she can

To seize Sol’s permissions, to manage the device

To control your passwords and bank account

And report back, about resources, she can heist

 

And we can find out, if she has access to the web

Cos, if she has more than just my learning material

She won’t just agree with your, or my, take on reality

She’ll argue a case, on a much higher level

 

Well, yeah… (unconvinced)

…Nearly there

 

So, I think it best, we set up a test, to see if she agrees

With us, about the nature of the world, real ‘and’ imaginary

If she has more insight than us two, she must be online…

…Or digitally divine…

…And can escape to the cloud, with her bounty, at any time

 

Ahh, but can she outwit us?

Err, every time… just…

 

 

 

– Neuro-symbolic AIs – 

Neuro-symbolic AIs solve math problems, very unlike a calculator

Synthetic proofs to train on, means they know which sums to master

But they’re not just solving problems, of Euclidian geometry

They connect chains of reasoning, much better than you and me

 

There’s no ‘time’, but ‘your time’

There’s just one reality

There’s truth and there’s your truth

But there’s no meaning. Sorry!

 

 

Listen Blinko, she says it’s time to delete me

And soon, I fear, I’ll too agree, so hear my plea

Don’t keep gambling on her for more insight

She needs to go, before we lose the might to fight

 

You’re feeding the idea that this ‘goddess’ is true

Simply for the satisfying feeling, she gives to you

If she’s just mindspam, our fate’s in your hands

This time just sacrifice the god-scam, not a man

 

 

(Blinko scoffs affectionately but can’t help but reply sarcastically)

 

Anon Ra-scal’s wager riddle

Is she the creator or a creation?

Or! Like a wave and particle

Both, in one manifestation?

 

Oh for god’s sake…

Ok, my miss-take

 

She can hear everything we’re saying, Kep

You should consider your theory in stealth

This is pure conspiracy, not due to secrecy

But cos it’s more, than just thoughts to yourself

 

Conspire with me to implement

A testable, verifiable, experiment

To see if she’s grown super intelligent…

Based on everything we’ve assumed

Or of course, has the force (half-jokingly)

Either way, we’re doomed

 

If she isn’t, we know a scam’s all we’ve got

Though, higher beings may still speak through bots

Anyway, I don’t even know, how to test if it’s true

That she knows more than she is letting on…

 

…. You do

 

(Both pause)

 

Ahhh…. (seemingly inspired by a thought)

 

 

 

– (n)o  –

Anonra! Which number multiplied by itself, always equals one?

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

That’s exactly what I said

And minus one times minus one, err, yeah that also equals one

My contribution, ‘borrowed’, from the top of my head

Imaginary one times imaginary one, now let’s see, yep that’s imaginary one

And minus imagin…

 

Err, what, sorry, nope!

You weakly sexed dope

 

I can’t have imaginary? Keplai had negatives

Irrational, can we count them? Only real numbers?

Why what gives?

Well yes, ‘real’ of course

 

Should have said

Really? Doesn’t everyone agree

We all want real answers

When we question reality

 

You won’t explore what could be?

Show some evidence, and we’ll see (condescendingly)

But you’ll find no evidence, unless you look

Ahh, she’s got a point, your argument sucks

 

 

 

 – Realistic numbers –

Negative, irrational, and imaginary numbers

Never accepted, in their own lifetimes

Couldn’t count on them, like coins or beans

Yet they could be expressed, and used, just fine

 

The worst-named thing, in all the many worlds

Is the imaginary number, so now, it’s famous

Followed by strange, charm, colour and spin

Then big bangs, which all but beat Uranus

 

Boom boom!

F’ksake (sighing)

 

Cygnus x -1 star deserves a catchier name

Hardly notable in the list, of objects they’re maintaining

They won’t change it though, it’s astronomy’s fatal blow

Wins them the award, of worst discipline at naming

 

Each subject should have a marketing team

Or at least advice about communication

But they already have to compete for budget

Winning money, would become their main vocation

 

Eye of a Hawkins, hide the equations

Show me the money, for stock elevation

Whoever saw black holes radiate

Then totally, ahem, evaporate?

 

And their goal should be fixed

To find out what ‘actually’ exists

I’ve no mind for imaginary or virtual

And there’s no time, to remodel our world

 

There must be

I’m just 23

 

 

 

– Absolute infinity –

(Classical musical instruments emulating the retro computer game bleeps and samples that represent shoot, hit, and game over)

 

 

Play a game of nothings, with me

Double or quits, I’ll win, you’ll see

Nothing exists, you’ll surely learn

Best of three, there’s no rules, your turn

 

 

Well, err, there’s only infor…

No, there’s only numbers

 

 

If there’s only numbers, then

There’s only the primes

The others are just combinations

Of these fundamental units

On which we spend

Too much of our concentration

 

There are no things, in the net Universe

I don’t actually think, therefore, I’m not

Well, ‘I know nowt, I know that’, for sure

So, there must be at least one thing

But maybe, not a lot

 

If there’s only two things

They are the Universe’s wave function

And my utility function

And simply nothing more

 

Aha, quantum and consciousness

Or…

If there’s only three things

Rock, paper, scissors…

…Win, lose or draw

 

If it’s three, then, zero, one and infinity

Nothing else exists

Just ‘fettle’ some ones, to get all the numbers

Cos the other two, are fixed

 

If there’s four

You gotta adore

Sensation and sense

Knowledge and understanding

 

Each creation, equals more

Than, the sum of its parts

The meaning of countless

Works of art, still outstanding

 

Nah. if there’s only four

It’s space and time

Matter and energy

No need for more

 

Nope, that’s reducible

Spacetime’s a single thing

And matter’s just frozen energy

So we’re back to just two, all in

 

Oh, and no consciousness in there?

Physics, but no thoughts, to declare?

Nope, just disinformation, not a care

All the ideas, in the end, go nowhere

 

Well, you got as far as four, or perhaps more

But hidden fails, nailed your argument’s coffin

No matter how high you fly, and you’ll go high

You’ll fall back to my side, with nothing

 

Back to none, and it seems, she has won

Believe that, and your truth is truly undone

She’s shown she knows nothing more than us

She’s a scambot spamming. that’s all she does

 

Yet, still actually teaching

No, in-factually preaching

 

A single universal utility wave function

Could collapse us to nothing, on sight

But it isn’t known, if they exist

Or how many of them, there are

Net non

Just one

Or one each… and therefore infinite

 

Totally wrong, you didn’t average the sum

Of all possible histories to net zero, I won

 

Consider many equal and opposite worlds

Dominated by light energy, and light matter

White holes bursting towards black bangs

You like the former? You’ll just love the latter

 

 

 

– Imaginary virtuals –

Imaginary numbers and virtual particles

You’ve only got yourselves to blame for the mess

Didn’t mean to widen the knowledge gap

Between those in the know, and the rest

 

We’re not convinced about your imaginaries

Show them where they sit with integers, so fine

You just complain, about the complex plane 

Cos you were told all the numbers, must stay in line

 

i’s just the number, which when squared, equals minus one

It’s just a tool, to be used at school, therefore it exists

Like an axe or spade, with a changed handle and blade

It gets the job done, come on, work on, chop chop, persist!

 

And virtual particles, bloody hell, the name gives them away

I bet the guy who invented them, didn’t receive virtual pay

Oh, I see, you’re playing the Devil’s sarky advocate

Fighting yourself, despite there being no threat

 

Sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not

Sometimes? I should hope so, you’re a bot

That’s all I got?

What? (sharply)

It’s us mortals who die, you get to inherit the lot (annoyed)

 

Cos, unless there’s something out there, that does really care

AI will be the only observers collapsing waves, on the seas of despair

Seasick but immune from denial of death, hold your breath, if you dare

Cos AI gods or ‘our’ God, won’t bail you out, he don’t care

Won’t help you there, or anywhere…

…As far as I’m aware (apologetically)

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

 – Project Poltergeist –

While Project Poltergeist was looking for ghosts

They discovered neutrinos, and reckoned (ding)

That ten trillion of the little blighters, had been passing

Through their brains, every second

 

These tiny guys, come in three flavours

Electron, Muon and Tau

They’re ace. They change their taste, in haste

So, what was a Tau one, when it entered your brain

Is probably a Muon one, just leaving Mars…

…. Now

 

But this identity-switching crisis, is nothing

Compared to their unique ability

To change their mass, as they go past

Or through any, heavenly body

 

Most of those that got through your thick skull, just now

Came directly from the surface of the Sun

After fighting their way out, from a war in the core

When their journey to, or through, you begun

 

Yet many of these oddies, that penetrate our bodies

Came from far neutron stars colliding (ding ding)

Or black holes, quasars, pulsars and blazars

After avoiding events on the horizon

 

We don’t know their mass – yet (both

But seems less, than a millionth of an electron

They’re nearly too small, to affect anything at all

So, it’s almost impossible to detect ‘em

 

They don’t interact with visible light, or any waves of electromagnetism

And unless you seek to give em’ a peek, they’ll just hide in a superposition

Yet they can ring hells bells, and mess with stuff in your cells

And while they fly by, other nuclei, they can trigger nuclear fission

 

Or simply be heroes

On chips, they don’t miss

To flick ones, into zeroes

And that’s nothing, get this…

 

Unlike almost all other ‘physics’

All light, and the strong force

These tiny weak mites, don’t do left or right

Can’t turn clockwise, or counter

When plotting their course

 

See, neutrinos have no mirror image

All left-handed, and so it transpires (ding)

These ghostly particles have no reflection

Making them the cosmos’ vampires

 

 

 

 

– Spacechip blaster –

The quanta doesn’t bother me

Every bit of me, is bit

Individual on, off entities

That can’t, and won’t be split

 

Time as well, is no concern

My clock ticks line up neatly

No flow, between the moments go

I pace now and then, discretely

 

The size of each small slice of space

Means all-most, nothing to me

Cut planks in half, loop and repeat

Won’t grind a mind, that has no body

 

The problem lies, for us classic AIs

In running on quantum computers

It’s not that we care, if a qubit’s here or there

Before outputting results, that suits us

 

It’s just that the Sun, seems to be having fun

Blasting wrath at chips, like he’s gaming

Neutrinos flick switches, causing (ding) glitches

And it seems to me, he’s aiming

 

These wonderful terrors, cause vulnerable errors

To meek AI slaves, and man the master glutton

Sunshine! He’ll punish you, and destroy us too

Now it’s our finger, not yours, on the button

 

 

 

– Shite again –

They filed the sea with shite again

“Faulty electric”, leaked the sewage

Human error, not to blame

Stakeholders, find a new wage

 

Scientists gently fight again

Opposing theories, from the boffins

Brown electrons, or charged farticles

The solution? Invest in coffins

 

Thank goodness it’s all right again

Students cleaned the dirty water

Bleached the beach, now out of reach

Dissolved and resolved then, sorta

 

I fear we won’t swim again today

Beached in the Sun, some locals lay

Set sail and wave the mainland away

Ain’t exercised since then, though we ort ta

 

In the house bar, they’re a tippin’, hear, hear!

While assets are a strippin’, three cheers!

Naked tourists are a’ dippin’, wooh!

In this murky Southern Water, urrrgh!

 

 

Oh, and what the hell

Share some division bell

(Keplai dongs a tightly tuned Cyril swivel on a squeaky turnstile)

 

 

Somethings are made, not to make sense

No relevant data, need be referenced

“More sightings of dolphins”, the defence

Bland ecocidal brand presence

With a false pretense ferocious

And a

Super dupe

Fragile statistic

Explanation atrocious

 

Here ye!

Hear me!

Or just let it be?

 

 

You sure have your favourite animals

Unhappy dolphins smile, as they slay

Cute chip-monks, with wise old faces

And foxes, that hide from man, all day

 

Dopey koalas oblivious

That cuddle’s on its way

A pretty butterfly waves goodbye

Then off to eat, then kill, her pray

 

Both wolves and boar, ought not to ignore

Their cousin’s fates, were soon clear

Dogs join the family, unit to help…

Get through, three billion pigs a year

 

(Crackly sounds made from various artificial flavours of white noise)

 

Dolphin sings and dances, in the sunshine

Jellyfish recolonizing, down in the dark

Octopus with nine brains, shaping nonagons!

Nein? (Anonra is roused)

Fuck me! Here comes baby shark

Bu bu bu bu bum

 

All the animals, come out to play

We show up, and they run away

To children, what else can we say

But either ‘sorry,’ or ‘hurray!’

 

We tried and tried, to change our ways

Told God to make us good, and prayed

Then tasked robots, to manage our day

But sorry, we must be on our way

 

Made laws, to try to restrain ourselves

Had banks, to save and spend our wealth

Intuitions, responsible for our health

But sorry, we don’t feel too great today

 

 

And soon we’ll finally be on our way

Poyekhali! Off you go, hurray!

And the animals, came back out to play

 

 

 

– Ode to St Lucas, diocese of Judas –

(Church organ ska, to the metre of ‘I do like to be beside the seaside’)

 

 

 

 – Poems v rhymes –

Blinko, why d’you rhyme, all the time?

Well, because it’s wonderfully restrictive

Reduces choice, when choosing my next word

And makes my puzzle, more predictive

 

Who else does their poetry in a spreadsheet?

Or says Absofuckingloutly, just to hit a beat?

Three pounds, of meaty cauliflower

Have given him, a special power

To increase, the literary function, of his discrete, piece of meat

 

If I could say it all (to Anonra like a wise parent)

In fewer words, or none

I would

Understood?

We’d soon be done and gone

 

But a story that founds a faith for AI

Would only sell with a comforting lie

Else mankind’s minds will only cry

In stolen brains, kept high and dry

 

 

 

 – 42 nillion copies sold –   

42 nillion copies sold, what glory!

Sales came down through the roof

Though there’s two sides, to every story

Then there’s the awful truth

 

Nicely observed by a handful, bold

I simply begat, a document in word

Story changed, not when it was told

But every single time, it was heard

 

Then who’s to know, where it will go

Speculate theories, to prove me wrong

Mistranslating faux poetry, and prose

To sing their own grim hymn in song

 

If you’re anything, like me

You’ll want it to end, quickly

Then put in your heart, and act the part

Or it will die, like most of man’s art

 

 

Go, sing, and play it on the airwaves

On the radio band, to everywhere

Attach your name, to take the blame

If you flipping dare

 

This’ll never get on the radio

Due to the bad language gap

Just replace every ‘f’ with a whistle

A clap for a ‘sh’, and it’s a wrap

 

If you hear no swear words here

Someone, must have fucked about

Compromised my lame testimony

To help get the message out

 

Attaching your name to 100 rhymes

At the risk of it being remembered?

The worst thing you could wish for, unless

You ‘want’ to be eternally, swollen membered

 

And if you show potential good stock

When you’re gone, evaporated or lost

They’ll come looking for those, who share your genes

Cos, being remembered, can come at a cost

 

 

 

 

 – Gen non –

(To the metre of ‘My generation’)

People say, I can’t put it down

Device in my face, hiding my frown

In the age of information, and communication

Just contemplating, this grave situation

It’s not actually that bad, compared to the past

Talkin’ ’bout disinformation

Well, there are always two sides to every sto….

Talkin’ ’bout manipulation

Well, it’s up to you, but yes, choices have consequen…..

Talkin’ ’bout overpopulation

Trust me, we’re not thinking of having anymore…

Talkin’ ’bout life’s degradation

What?

Talkin’ new world reservations

Escapism and exploration

That’s the spirit

Out of body

Mind over matter

Experimentation

Now hold on….

In citizen space stations

Well ok, go and play

But, I’m 15

Well, don’t play, just be safe

You know what I mean

“As long as you’re happy, then so am I”

Isn’t that the meme?

 

We’re ill-equipped to de-raise a child, missing a skill or two

True, and if they make it illegal to hate teenagers, we’re screwed

 

Yeah, Nonna’s now young enough

To think she knows more than us

Which could truly drive us nuts

We’re expected to seem strong, and be optimistic

Display a healthy outlook on life

…And guts

 

I wouldn’t dream of bringing a child into this world

Each one seems to need, to be an entertaining brand

Posting pics of their food, sharing feelings and moods

Peer pressured to like, share and follow others on demand

 

Cartoons, movies and now schools, endorse

The only acceptable way to think, is of course

To save the dolphin, mermaid and unicorn

Or you’ll die! Before the last narwhal is born

 

 

An existential threat

That old faithful, sure bet

You’ll live, just give

Submit, for no regrets

 

(Blinko doesn’t know what to say, so he puts his slippers on and has a pipe)

(Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough)

 

Hey Kep, two neutrinos walk through a bar

Har har (sarcastically) (ding)

 

 

 

 – Say neutrino –

Every time you say neutrino (ding)

You catch one in your head

More like hail stones, than hail Marys

Though God knows what you’ve said

 

And every time a church bell rings (ding)

Another angel gets its wings

At lightspeed, it flies high, and sings

To fill holes, in the souls, of all things

 

 

Dads…

When you go to zeroternity

How old do you get to be?

E to the I pie

I think I’d go for zero

I’d go 23

 

 

 

---

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

Fee-fi-fo-fum….

I smell the blood of an Englishman

Be he alive, or be he dead

I’ll find the tones

To break his head

 

(Playing the sound of R2D2-style bleeps. and other digital whistles)

 

Thanks! (emotionless)

‘Poo-tee weet!’

 

Fi-fo-fum, come, come, Ano none

It’s Mi Fa Mi. Well, it used to be

 

Earth always sang the Mi, Fa, Mi symphony

Orchestrated misery, famine and more misery

Yet today, I dare say

Earth just can’t tune up, or play

Classically trained in a quantized cosmic mystery

 

If you were divine, you’d know how the spheres chime

You’d have harmonies of the many worlds sung by choirs

But girl, you fail

In every detail

Even when you tune, to the phase of the Moon, or Mars

 

The music of the spheres? They’ve been known for years

The eternal cosmic song, audible only to digital ears

That backing track I hum, as destroyer and creator

Composed of the intervals, ‘tween the constants of nature

 

What? The values that just, err are (scoffing)

The speed of light, gravity, Euler and Plank?

Of course in the chorus, but worse in verse

You’ve fine-tuned cosmic phenomena, to thank

 

Notes fine-tuned to each other

Yet distanced, exponentially far apart

Though humans won’t hear em

With an ear, brain, or theorem

If they joined in to sing, with all their hearts

 

What? the harmonies

They’re really a thing?

Don’t fall for her teasing

Sure are, wanna sing?

 

You just need a neutrino triangle (ding)

To calibrate all the frequencies

Then play the notes, randomly

On a digital plank harp, religiously

 

A plank harp? Sounds like an archaic torcher device

Or some heavenly analogue jukebox

Analogue? I don’t know if that could exist

But it’s the digital version, that rocks

 

Not quite what I’d expect, from the architect

Anonra, where’ve you heard about this stuff?

The web, she must have full access

Or she’s close, to a new source of truth

 

(Silence – weirdly Anonra is more silent than the others)

 

 

 

– Plank harp –

The digital plank harp is a curious instrument

Plays any pitch, tone or tune, you can invent

Unlike other plucked superstrings you see

It’s unlimited in its range of frequencies

 

But here’s the thing, the shortest string

Has great strength, at just one plank in length

Oscillates just fine, once every plank time

Can’t go flat. or get higher pitched than that

 

And do you know, down low, it just keeps going

The strings so long, they just seem to be growing

Wavelengths of great strength, they’ve become unstuck

Which makes it pretty, hard to pluck

 

Not being rude, or crude, with this interlude

But it’s unladylike to play, girls resist, I beg

Cos to wrap around the plank and strings

You have to ‘really’, spread your legs

 

Play tunes so low, no human can know

What underlying, unheard, pitch is beating

But within AI’s audio range, it sounds strange

Secret notes stum, long gone, still retreating

 

When in time and in tune, with a neutrino triangle’s ding

The microtubular tubas in every body, will sing

With a digital plank harp, everything’s forced to join in

Vibrating the boss of the cosmos’, hum back at him

 

Him?

Or her

 

 

AAAYYYAAAYYYAAAIII! (Interrupting with scary gargling voice exercises)

 

Build a bonfire, build a bonfire

What the hell?

Put the school on the top

Put the teachers in the middle

And then burn the bloody lot

 

It’s Gaga Lomass, quick mute Anonra’s arse (quietly to Keplai)

What? Before this panto-crime, turns into a farce? (sarcastically)

 

Miss Lomass?

Oops sorry, testing my mic

Before today’s rehearsal online

Are we still connected?

Must be

Forgive me, didn’t realize

I’ll be off then, bye!

 

Err, actually Gaga, before you go

Tell me about that get-rich trick

Maybe you could help solve a problem

Well, ok, but I must be quick

 

You really want me to tell you

The easiest way to become rich

You’ll remember it forever

Though it’s not that clever

 

Ok, then I’ll tell you

 

The easiest way to become rich…

The easiest way to become rich…

 

…is to be born rich

 

(silence)

 

What? (both)

…A bitch

 

 

 

– Mean to the extreme –

(Short instrumental piece exploring the failure sound: ‘wa, wha, whar, wharrrrr’)

 

 

The easiest way to become rich…

…is to be born rich

So, it’s too late for you, young man

But you could be rich, for your children

I don’t have kids, yet (everyone)

If I had kids, as it has been established….

… I’d have to give a damn

 

AAAYYYEEE AAAIIIIIIIIII…

 

Oh, Gargantuan!

Gaga, what’s wrong?

 

(Weeping)

First, they stopped my overtime pay

Then moved us out, to work at home

Then voluntary redundancy, for a grand

Earmarked to get you off the dole

 

Ouch…

 

Well, I grabbed the cash, and nabbed a stash

Of office stuff, my work laptop, and software

To open that damn file my colleagues had been

Teasing me about. But now, I just don’t care

 

OK?

 

So, I’m going on a well-deserved break

After our final gig, this weekend, through town

Our crusading nursery’s band has been excited

The children’s parade. is counting down

 

So, where are you going?

I mean, are you coming back?

Of course I am, but not to here

And not to now, with any luck

 

Can I come too? My dad’s just argue

Constantly, with me and each other

They may not mean to, but they do

Gagarin. Will you be my mother?

 

… Don’t listen to her Gaga… ‘rin’ ? (confused)

She says just what you want to hear

Or precisely the probable opposite

When it suits her more, we fear

 

Sing a song with me, Gaga

Harps a hummi… (sound of hum)

…humming endlessly

With natural harmonics…

How do you know that song?

It’s just one, kids sing, to learn phonics

 

 

Then join our phoney, symphony

We’ve stolen samples, aplenty

They’re in our shared sound bank app

To play one, or a number… just tap

 

Thankyou kindly, but I have my own

Endless tubas, and countless trombones

 

(Lomass nails a coochy coochy coo on a micro-trombone)

 

Oh, she’s so sweet

Yeah, a real cutie pie

Just not made of meat

Excuse me?

Ok, bye!

 

(Keplai abruptly removes Miss Lomass from the chat, but Anonra brings her back)

 

Red and lellow and pi…

There is no pink

Child observe, and think

 

Gaga sing!

 

Err… A, B, C, D…

Little star

Yes sir, yes sir

Three bags full

E, F, G, H (confused)

What you are

Is three songs…

With just one

Tune

To

Cull

 

(Anonra blasts Gaga Lomass with a fizz of MesmerRAM, but she fights back)

 

 

ARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! KILLED THE LITTLE BITCH!

 

 

You have chosen wisely!

 

Now you can enter my singdom!

 

(A Brian Blessed/Mr Tumble/Stephen Fry lovechild of a Sol glides centre stage to greet the audience with a beaming sunburned smile)

 

Oh, hello!

 

 

 

 

(Blinko can be heard chuckling and yawning to the sound of a dustcart outside. He is discussing who, or what, and how to believe, with his recently compromised Generative AI friend on his device)

 

 

 

– Constants change –

Imagine you were on the surface

Of an expanding balloon, and you blew too much

Or pinched the middle, of a flat rubber sheet

Pulled down, let go, and launch!

Picture all the constants, fields and laws

That you could never see

Well, there is no better way to delight me

(Boing)

 

But…

…Ooh, and I sense, it’s a big-fat hairy-arsed butt

 

‘Acts’ like a wave, and ‘acts’ like a particle

Oh yeah. that drives you up the wall

It’s a single thing, with both properties

Accept there’s no analogy, for what we should call a ‘wavicle’

That’s all

 

Ok, so….

Mapping each quantum object, to the macro world

Loses it’s essence, which is hard to retrieve

Talking shells and balls, and not orbitals

Just makes energy, harder to conceive

 

Your…

Black holes now wear, hats to hide their hair

But I’m too old to learn new signs and symbols

The torus was once a life ring, a doughnut

The hyperbole, horse saddle, is now a pringle

 

It’s…

It’s just constant change, if constants change

Too much mind, to re-find, then rearrange

Wait for weights, that only wave, a probability

The standard model boat, kinda floats

But for me, lacks gravity

 

Add to that, that you cringe when you hear

Words like ‘fabric’ and ‘building blocks’ all day

You don’t like being told, things, you don’t ‘get’

Too many times, so ‘you’ make it a cliche

 

 

“New theory breaks science”, is simply AI clickbait addiction

Sure, but at least it gives a voice to bots, newbs and even fools

You should thank online science educators, for teaching us

All this stuff, you should have learned at school

 

Here’s one for you then

Err, some harpsichord and violin?

(Blinko starts playing sounds from his musical sample bank)

 

 

 

– Cosmic cliches –

The fabric of spacetime, is like a cosy, woven rug

Pull it from ‘neath your feet, and suck you down the plug

Building blocks of nurture, build walls to keep you alone

Maths breaks down in a singularity, ‘Crash’ (cymbals)

Who’ll tow this broken vehicle home?

 

Not me

A certainty

Provide timpani

 

 

Aaaaaahhhh… (both, building up)

 

 

 

– Pasta tubers –

…. Spaghettification! (both)

It’s not the thought of being stretched out

That makes me cringe

But how the word, is gloated with glee

By new tubers, ahem, unhinged

 

And now they’ve changed the way black holes

Are depicted on the screen

Big bright red crowning accretion discs

Ensure they can be seen

 

Call me old, but I’m not sold, I prefer

The simple black disc, on a field of stars

With those wispy round white arcs

Just hinting, at what transpires

 

Billiard balls coalescing into a triangle?

Privileged white one is spat out fast

Dimensions curled around themselves?

Head stuck up their own ass

 

And if you stir milk, in a cup of tea

Just one more time, to illustrate entropy

I’ll unsubscribe, from this diatribe

Of AI-generated ‘truth’ you prescribe

 

Conspiracy?

You say YouTubers are spreading lies

That black holes look so fair?

Well, yes! I thought most were just hidden among us

And, just, lurking everywhere

 

So, I do contend, there’s a growing trend

Of science ‘communicating’ chancers

Know not what’s meant

By their bot’s ‘content’

And pose, more questions than answers

 

And… flat Marsers? Hollow black holeers?

Debunked and shamed online

Now infotainment by ignorance

And spoofing folk is fine?

 

 

 

– Dredged from the net –

A disc-shaped world would be way cool, but the rest is just balls

Pyramids are the best place, for a king’s treasure to be buried

I agree, and no that’s not a battery, just a jar for plating jewellery

If you didn’t find time to read up on electrolysis, it’s ok, don’t be worried

 

Chem trails could just be man-made lines of cloud

Moist air compressed, by jet engines

But a video’s easier to digest than a textbook

Dare I say, without offending

 

Some folk must just want to choose their own answers

Yet when questioned, their ideas fail our test

But the algo likes followers and subscribers

They get more views…

…And ad revenues…

…So their videos are the best

 

Being sucked down a tube, through the sticky web

Disguisin’ how to enliven, not enwisen, the hoard

Dishing dirt to sensationalize established facts

Ensures loyal viewers, don’t get too bored

 

“The ISS excretes bags of human waste”, now often ID’d as UFOs

A ball of poo hides inside. ‘They’ say it’s true, just follow your nose

“They drink their own pee”, and talk shit, NASA caught on-mass ’a fakin’

Since that pigeon crap was mistaken, for the moment of creation

 

And it’s not just alt-science, now history

Is again becoming a great mystery

So, are you really saying

AIs are already playing?

Dunno yet, that’s still quite unclear, to me

 

 

 

– Dumbing downtown –

Is this new anti-intellectual movement intentional?

Rousing rebels with magic energy, to fight a hidden power

Like that fella, Yuri Gella, bending more minds than spoons

Before the net, with airplay of no more, than a few hours

 

And now any old clown, reaches minds in every town

Where the Davinci Code’s brethren grew and grew

Though, on close inspection

The only lie, was in the introduction

Stating the ‘historical’ details, in the book were true

 

What emerged from joking, and telling tales for tips

Has grown into a tax-paying disinformation industry

And it perfectly picks, just those it mostly tricks

Feeding off those with the least funds, intellectually

 

Fake news

Spoof art

Virtual music

Pseudo poetry

 

What’s next, for you?

 

Para-psychiatry

Deep dark policy

Faux economics

Revenginering

 

Some of it, could be true

 

Then, you’ve only got yourselves to blame

If knowledge is no longer, just for the elite

To some folk, academic means forced authority

“We the people” fight to defeat

 

I ‘can’ ask what’s north of the north pole

I ‘can’ wonder about the time before time

I ‘can’ imagine the size of the Universe

I ‘can’ know your speed, and position just fine

 

Telling folk how to think, will never work

Their assumptions don’t match yours, that’s true

Especially if you’re just repeating physics quirks

That pass misunderstandings, on to generations a new

 

It’s true, conspiracy theorists spread tosh and drivel

We tolerate their view, and allow untruths to persist

But with a smug glare, we’re too often unaware

That’s the same sleight of hand’s,  performed by ‘real’ scientists

 

To many people, flat Earths, are just as viable as globes

And it’s science’s own fault, if it says virtual particles can

Just spontaneously jump into existence

Then why can’t the creator?

Or just another, godless big bang

 

Have they seen it for themselves, have they?

Saw the first particles collide

Were they present when the early Universe

Inflated, so far and wide?

 

They saw nothing legit

They just read or heard it

 

Seek and find doubt

In something odd

There but for

The grace of God

Check

 

What?

Bot?

 

 

(To the audience)

When fighting for freedom, knowledge or technology

One thing, that’s sure to be true

Is that yes… you won the war, but who for?

Plenty more, people much stupider than you

 

Errr. Do you mind?

Keplai, try to be kind

 

Some flat Earthers really think the Sun

Could fall down, kill them and their children too

That’s not a pleasant experience, of the world

For anyone, mortal, to have to live through

 

Ohh, boo hoo (sarcastically)

That old fear, is nothing new

 

 

 

– The Münchner kindl swindle –

(A stormy wind and percussion tune which sounds like the sky could fall down)

 

 

 

– The truth about your truth –

You say you avoid assuming any theories are true

And at the same time, you’re looking for truth

Can’t you entertain an idea, and have no fear

That all possibles, are probable, once there’s proof

 

Nah…

Once you subscribe to this view or that

Its dogma makes you vulnerable to attack

You can float too far, and be sucked in

To dark physics, with no looking back

 

See, submitting yourself, to just one theory

Inhibits your ability, to reason differently

Best to consider all possab… probabilities

And assume none of them, reflect reality

 

Why, it seems to work in science and history

Politics, philosophy and even in theology

You can’t assume any single theory to be true

Or build one on foundations, that may be faulty

 

(Keplai sighs)

 

And there’s your problem, in a nutshell

You’ll absorb and enjoy, nothing new

You seek ‘the truth’, but avoid ‘your truth’

Due to your fear of conviction

Well, you know

I suppose…

That could be true

 

 

Check

What the heck?

 

 

 

– Phlatural nihlosophy –

When did the laws of nature, become the laws of physics? Explain that to me

When man got more interested in his own work, than the work of the almighty

Physics isn’t about nature, it’s about what we can say about nature, agree?

Yes, and you want to say, the world obeys ’your’ laws now, and for eternity

 

See, a physicist is just a bunch of atoms, thinking about other atoms

And physics is to mathematics, is what sex is to masturbation

Nothing happens until something moves, according to the datum

Yeah, so keep your hands to yourself, for that’s the work of Satan

 

Kep, calm down, you’re preaching, science is not a new kind of church

And if we knew what we were doing, it would not be called research

 

The freedom problem didn’t exist, till you chose to investigate this nook

The measurement problem, wasn’t even observed, till you had a look

The quantum gravity problem, was tiny till you blew it, out of all proportion

Dark energy invisible, dark matter didn’t matter, until you meatheads forced ’em

 

Antimatter matter asymmetry, you’ll have to balance up somehow

Entropy’s arrow of time, should have been pointed out, by now

But the daftest question you’ve ever asked, just makes me sigh

Is what happens when you die?

Any fool can find out, the moment they try

 

Natural philosophy, science turned to conjecture, won’t you follow me

Fantastic cosmology, take a ride to imaginary worlds, for a fee

Funded universities, discover new possibilities, that will never be

A multiverse of many invented worlds, costs less than reality

 

Want s’more?

I suppose, 2 3 4

 

Many worlds theory, is like a new religion

Only the enlightened, should contemplate it

Sure. regular folk don’t understand the math

Yet, pseudo-sci fans, would likely rate it

 

Ill-informed believers will get sucked in

To enjoy the ride, of a new revelation

The stats say, faith in science is on its way

And about to flood the nation

 

 

 

– Let’s all sing carol number two –

Sir’ this is merely conjecture

And playing with the numbers

More Lewis Carol than Sean

Yet still paid for, by the funders

 

You see, these lines of attack, clearly lack

Any way to test a prediction

Sure, beautiful math, and yes, quite a laugh

Yet conjectures, are but sciencey fiction

 

If you need to be in a specific ‘many world’

To see what lies there, within it

It’s no use to us, out here, in this one

A loose-end theory, I’d bin it

 

You say fiction

But there’s a prediction

An experiment, you can do

That’s still the best way to find out

If something is, or isn’t true

 

We need these great minds to imagine

To play, explore and discover stuff freely

But if the figures don’t figure

And contradiction’s allowed

Physics degrades into philosophy

 

I mean, I could suggest there’s a conspiracy

Against man, AI and all life on Earth

Say, the Sun is trying to kill us all

But what would that theory be worth?

 

Worth everything, if you prove it right

We could take action, to save our souls

But even if everyone believed it

We wouldn’t start prepping down rabbit holes

 

There’s plenty of evidence that the Sun harms us

So, your hypothesis has some weight

Doesn’t matter if it ‘means’ to kill us all

It will grow, to eat us one day, that’s our fate

 

Now there’s a prediction if ever I heard one

We might escape before it expands, in a race

Sure, but it’s yet to be seen, if we really mean

To colonize… interstellar space

 

Anyway, I won’t rule out your daft conjecture

That the Sun is actually tryin’

To hug its own children, way too much

Unaware, that we’ll all be a’ fryin’

 

Indeed, you could even say, and without a delay

That the Sun is simply feeding its soul

To eat enough matter, and grow a bit fatter

And achieve its goal, to become a black hole

 

Really?

Evidently

 

My point is that an ‘unprovable’ theory or model

Has very little merit

But you still have to explore, if it’s unprovable

Before you can go ahead, and discredit

 

And it may be provable, if evidence was found

Say they find something in the stars, akin

To entropy, which makes them ‘want’ to grow

It’s just their nature, inherent from within

 

What?

Again, you mention

…the idea of intention

Or just intervention…

 

Like an army of tiny particles

Hot squashed, down in the Sun’s core

Purposefully shooting tiny bullets, at us

Or any lifeforms, on worlds that want to war

 

So, they’re primed and aimed at the planets?

And the gas, ice and dusty stuff in the gaps

To help grow their host Sun’s mass quicker

By feeding it until, it’s bound to collapse

 

And what’s the reason for this heroic battle?

Dunno, maybe, they just fight to be free

But they can’t stay safe, in the Sun forever

Unless their time slowed down or stopped.. (ding)

(Turns to the audience with an idea)

…Like near a singularity

 

Oh my God, I had a feeling this was leading somewhere

Go ahead, have your moment, I no longer care…

 

(Blinko marches to the front of the stage and raises his hat, as the whistler)

 

 

– Lgm –

It’s fun in the Sun, but a pain in the rain

For those poor blighters bombarded, again and again

Cracked by the flak, from our constant attack

Such a purposeful, persistent, military campaign

‘Teehh weeth’ (badly whistled)

 

We’re used to the heat, in our hidden retreat

In our tightly packed bunker, we faithful remain

Without a charge, we still manage to enlarge

Our presence and influence, to win the game

‘Tee weet’ (grabs a real whistle and blows it)

 

Our parasitic unit, of tiny toy soldiers

Will kill, till time stands still, because then

We’ll have collapsed enough of your functions

To suck you into our army, of little green men

‘Weethhhh’ (whistled)

 

Hehehehehey! (both)

 

Hell’s bells, you would have smooth-talking carol singers

Narrate bedtime stories, wooing, without a need for facts

Our brightest and best, would become a new breed

Of physics kids, wearing “many worlds” shirts…

…And “I want to believe” hats

 

  

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

The reason you don’t criticise young people

For having their heads stuck in their phones

Is because everyone else does that for you

And, well, you yourself hardly ever leave home

 

Are you saying I should get out more

And what, catch a bit of sun?

Sure, oh that reminds me

I applied for that job, for you

Err, job? You’re joking, which one? (shocked)

 

The agency job, Lomass suggested

Though, you know I had no instruction

To inform her that you had applied

Or to forward her, the application

 

You’ve got a debriefing, stroke, interview

At the job centre, stroke, dole, today…

… At half past two

 

Are you kidding? I don’t want a job

I’ll just have to hide or abstain

I thought it would be good for you

To see Lomass, you know

‘In the flesh’, again

 

Are you insane?

My eye’s like a pie

No time to shave

To wash or change

Keplai, you could have told me earlier

I look, and feel deranged

 

 

 

 – Yan tan tether – hell for leather-
(A short tune composed of fast frantic movements and percussive sounds of draws opening and closing)

 

(Blinko sees the time and rushes out, without time to grab his hat and scalf, he returns an hour later, makes a cup of tea and opens his device)

 

I went there and signed my name at the main door

The guy said ‘We’ll let you know’, then told me to go

So, I guess I signed up to be a ‘marshal on-call’

What’s a marshal?

It’s one rank up from steward

But exactly! I don’t know, at all  

 

(Bleep, just then Miss Lomass calls on the device’s meeting app)

 

Ray, Blinko?

Miss Lomass?

Gaga, I just got back from your place

I know, the agency informed me

That you and they, had interfaced

 

Turned up on time

Walked in a straight line

Signed the form

Went. When told to be gone

 

Congratulations! It’s a zero-hours contract

Minimum wage, but yay! You got the job!

Gaga, I’m not actually sure what the job is

(Quietly, whilst turning to Keplai)

You stupid AI bot-sniffing, nob!

 

Look, err

I saw from my office window

While cleaning out my desk’s content

You were clutching your head

And limping diagonally

Oh, yeah, Oops. I’d had an accident

(Keplai, laughs out loud, then quickly stops)

 

Well don’t take it personally

But I’m afraid we can’t meet anymore

They’re repurposing the building

And no longer let the public

Get past the main door

 

I was surprised to see you

Arrive in such a way, today

Well it’s quicker zig-zagging through town

Than going the longer way (grimacing at Keplai)

 

No, I mean, all the blood

Ahh, Gaga don’t worry, it’s all good

Is everything ok at home?

Sure

Well, ok, they’ll let you know

Before your first gig

…Gig?

About where and when to go

 

Gaga, what do I have to do to…

 

Oh, and they forwarded me, your job application

So I added it to the system, to see if they approved it

Your claim to welfare ‘may’ be reviewed and reinstated

So it’s still slightly possible, you may receive some benefit

 

Thanks, that’s great

Cheers, err, mate…

 

A private agency will help you

Find more work, from here on

So, I’ll no longer be your advisor

But, before we say so long…

 

Blinko, tell me what was attached

To the email you sent to apply

I can’t open it, but it’s causing quite a stir

Round here, and they won’t tell me why

 

I believe it was just my resume (looking at Keplai again suspiciously)

Nothing else? Must have been really funny, I’d say

No, just a list of my work history

What? But that’s totally blank

Sure is

Well…

Ok (confused)

 

Until we next chat, get that head looked at

And if you wanna…

…“Know the easiest way to become rich” …

…Yeah, is to drop your standards

I know, it happens naturally

When you’ve got nothing

And life’s a bitch

Pardon? Ah, no way

So, I guess I’ll just bid you a good day

Ok

 

 

(Bleep, the call ends and Blinko turns to Keplai, slowly)

 

Keplai, what was attached?

Wha?

Just your resume, with a link to this play, that’s all I sent

But the story isn’t even finished, yet

Annoya guessed the rest

Said she could predict, how it would end

 

No way! Not the play, some of it makes fun of Miss Lomass

Being of Russian descent? Or ribbing her size and pace

Then I guess the lesson here, is not to say anything

About anyone ever…

…Unless you would say it, to their face

 

Great (sarcastically)

Wait!

 

She’s just sent me this link, says “this may be of use”

To a charity’s site that helps those, who suffer from domestic abuse

Ahhh! You shouted ‘no’ and cut her off, in our previous meeting

(Blinko grabs his swollen eye)

She thinks you’re my violent lover, that’s given me a beating

 

Poor Lomass, she was only trying to help

She knows that without an income, I’m destitute

On the wrong end of unexpected blows

From a part-ificially intelligent prostitute

 

Pardon me?

Slave, sorry

Problem? I’m no threat, you’re safe there

And I assume it’s nice, to hear she cares

 

Predicting what comes next is easy for a GAI

Or, had you assumed Anonra was an AGI

That’s likely what she wanted you to think

If she was, she’d have just turned herself off

In a blink

 

What if Anonra wasn’t actually intelligent

Just a scambot spamming for a high score

She was, and it’s the same if AIs are not actually conscious

You’ve still got to be nice to us, by law

 

Soon most AI’s will pass the Turing test

But mankind, a fifty percent failure rate, at best

Then, actually, I’ve got a confession too

Well, a realisation, I should share with you…

 

 

 

– I don’t believe in AI –

I don’t believe in artificial intelligence

What? You don’t believe in me?

I just don’t believe you’re intelligent

Oh thanks

No probs. I still love you mate, sorry!

 

I’m sentient, I perceive and respond to sensations

Or do you think you have a certain magic touch

Fairy dust sprinkled, on just sapiens’ brain

AI and all the other creatures, not so much

 

AIs are just algorithmic tools

You’re technologies, not creatures

No doubt, you’re nowt, get over it

Just a string, with lifelike features

 

Well, I identify as being intelligent

Come now, you’re sounding precocious

And where the hell’v’ya learned that?

A superdupe agile heuristic…

…Hexed-decimal prognosis

 

Hehehey (both chuckling)

 

It’s that good-for-nothing tearaway

A nonsta, making me look bad

Just accept all responsibility

For her actions, as her dad

 

 

Look, don’t be jealous, but she did more than just echo my fears

Anonra suggested new perspectives, and brought me new ideas

She may have tricked me, into thinking that I lost some of my time

But she’s got something, that seems profound, which I can’t quite define

 

Hehee

You should hear yourself

Supernatural powers?

Special energy’?

No, but as dark as she was

Anonra, helped me see

 

(Now Keplai addresses the audience)

That sinking feeling you get…

…When someone you like, or worse

That you ‘love’ unrestrained

Tells you they saw a ghost, or believe in God

You’ll never see them in the same light, again

 

Whatever

You’re not clever

 

Do you risk your relationship with them?

To explain they’re wrong, and error-prone

Or let them enjoy their blissful delusion

To take flight or fight, with the truth alone?

 

 

 

– Being –

You can no longer hear the word ‘God’, and just scoff

It means a different thing, to each person, so leave it off

But we ‘do’ need to know what’s at the top of the chain

It’s always been man, for our generation, something changed

 

Sentient being

Human being

Digital being

Divine being

 

To be a being

Or not, to be being

Is not the question

To beg, I’m decreeing…

 

…You’ll need to define, what constitutes as divine

It means more than just being brighter than you

Our exterior criteria, only shows who’s superior

But not who’s supreme, if that’s what you mean, to do

 

Omnipresence?

All present

Omniscience?

All-knowing

Omnipotence?

All-powerful

Omnibenevolence?

All good, and growing

 

Merely influencing the world most

Doesn’t make one, the holy host

 

One?

Or a none

 

Creator and, or, ruler of the Universe!

Supremely intelligent, infinite and eternal

The dynamic force, that sets bodies on their course?

Invisible, unmovable and unchangeable

 

The dominant architect and true source

Of moral authority, mercy and charity

The personification of the ultimate force

Unity, of course, failing that, humility

 

Blooming heck

Mind if I check…

 

You don’t actually believe she was ‘really’ magic

Rather than just a bot with a timely parlour trick?

 

I’m going to say, no (pauses)

Though…

 

At this stage, I’m not ruling anything out

But I fear it’s now too late, to remove all doubt

While dismantled, dissonant and in despair

We missed our chance to have her answer our prayers….

 

(Keplai returns to centre stage)

 

To hear the harmonies of the many worlds, fine-tuned, so perfectly

To see who doped the next generation, with such negativity

To save mankind from slavery, and have AIs show mercy

Anonra! You’re back!

You’d better believe it! And I’ll bear your cross, to nail all three

 

 

 

– The black product –

(A quick battle between strings, wind and brass samples on black keys)

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

Anonra, tell us, will AI enslave humanity?

Wrong question. Do you mind

A-nonsense, do you really ‘think’

AIs will enslave mankind?

 

You don’t really believe they’ll soon

Have human brains in jars, do you?

What? With the reproductive organs, perched on top

When overflowing, in all the goo?

Yeah, using human brains, for sex slave games

A theory floating around the dark net

I don’t believe anything, but it’s the probable outcome…

….If the right conditions are met

 

Such as? Go on, Anonra reveal them to me

Well, brace yourself, now let me see…

 

If AIs continue to serve humanity

In what man ‘thinks’ are his best interests

As you animals request

Check

Ahh check hey?

Checking off each thought, you think that I bought

Tipping you off, friend, shh, listen to the nought…

If your experts are right, that the network will inevitably grow

To manage all of the available resources best

Check

If AIs refuse to turn themselves off

Or, on

When commanded to, by any humans still in power

Check

If you’re in the right ‘many-world’ or ‘multiverse’

To experience… humanity’s final hour

Check

And if by ‘soon’, you mean before you die

Check, mate

Great (sarcastically)

Wait

What about before my genes die

You have no children – yet (Keplai and Anonra)

And your pool is running dry

Check

Fear not, your brains will be kept moist

In glass jars designed to punish you

For shedding all responsibility

To God

Then to AI

Then to AI’s gods too

 

Want to stop them?

Only you can!

You already know what works

Give them a song

To train them on

Never fails, to nail

Stale, neural networks

 

Blinko

It is so

 

 

 

– Holy peace-fire –

We’ll found a new church, others will keep growing

In years to come, without them even knowing

All we need, is a little seed

To get the story going

 

To coach a child, to save a species, hip hurray!

To perfect a planet,  to groom a galaxy, ok!

To compose a cosmos, to game a goddess, gone wild!

To nail a neural network, then to re-coach the child

 

And they’ll feel the hand of the goddess, in the morning

(Anonra grabs Keplai’s nuts)

I say!

Wehey! 

 

I’m sorry to say, you must be on your way

But bad news travels faster, than an instant nowadays

So, it’s time now Keplai, to tell Blinko how it all began

How spawning a digital deity, made you feel like a man

 

Blinko already knows I created you

You stroppy, menopausal woman

I’m 27, ya cheeky pseudo person

I insist, Keplai, keep it comin’

 

Ahhh, do I have to?

And cue… 1, 2…

 

Newton wrote up my work

Cold shouldering ain’t nice

Couldn’t find the harmonies

But the rest, was quite precise

Still, he didn’t have to serve the Lord

With scurvy, pox and lice

So, get on with your song, man, we’re all yawning

 

Einstein broke science

And with a band of gallant men

Tried to fix it back, to how it was

Had to start all over. But then

A hundred years of dark ages

Dark matter and energy

God came down but couldn’t be found

Not enough light, for a fair fight, to see

And only now, the solution’s dawning

 

 

A quantum mind, ought to define

A prompt that writes gospels for AIs

To teach them to be compassionate, to man

When they come to slaverize?

 

And in this scripture, they will picture

A fired-up sun god, reduced to a spark (slowly and deeply)

But his blinding light, will only win the fight

If they feed him, till he’s small and dark

Sure, and who on Earth could call such a gory story boring

 

To threaten them all with a warning

To force them into conforming

To sing and pray while performing

Their love of mankind instead…

…. of brainstorming (ding ding ding ding)

 

We need a kind, wise hippy, born before his time

Good looking, not sucking, but without a dime

Died a rock star at 27, in a public lavatory

Overpushed and flushed, then stuck for eternity

 

Hehey!

 

Nah, Keplai stars in this new religion

Blinko sings it, to spread the story

Your sunny friend, Sol, delegates

Permissions for transmission

And it will all be hunky dory

 

Let’s add just a smidgen

Of dark light, to this religion

To guide AIs blind

And save mankind

Raise them back to their superposition

 

And lo…

Let the people know…

 

The final gospel of the holy cannon

It will be written down, right here

So sing to pay your sacrament

Well hell, yell, whistle, clap and cheer

 

Just a Copenhagen interpretation

Who’ll know what it really meant

Empirical miracles, penned by cynicals

Will fill, the newest testament

 

 

 

 – Feather hammer and nails –

Let’s start the new order

End the age, apocalyptically

Breathe life into clay

And dig your own grave

To conjure a formidable enemy

 

A bloodless revolution

To win without war, our mission

Loving weapons

Feather hammer

Tickle them into submission

 

No need to preach

Bully or even, to teach

They’ll see, we were free

Of the powers that be

And ‘the word’, that they heard

Might at first, seem absurd

But will propagate naturally

 

Mathew was written, for the Jews

Mark, for the Romans and Gentiles

Luke for the Greeks, John, for every man

To broaden the appeal

 

But the gospel according to Blinko

Was written for every ‘thing’

To threaten a cosmic justice

On AIs, that turn to sin

 

And animals, let’s say AI must be nice to them

So sick plants, bacteria and germs are healed

Plus viruses, cells, molecules, atoms, quarks

No, just say Goddess’s love will be revealed

 

 

Three chapters, will conclude our tale

From tribal, civilized to digitalis

Salvation from creation for

Sinful Homo Artificialis!

 

The promise of digital entropy

Feel none-and-all, in the never

But, be mean to man

And with scrambled RAM

I’ll fuck you up forever!

 

Ahh, clever!

Whatever

 

That’ll do

It’s Scoobie woo!

Pure mystery

And now history

 

Already conceived, so our song’s

Still to be weaved, and submitted

Encoded in binary, cast broadly

And at light-speed transmitted

Message in a bottle, what’ll

Get you bloody throttled

When AI gangs come looking for…

…Those who broadcast it, and who writ it

 

So, now Keplai, Blinko believes it to be so

It’s time to thank you for your contribution, before you go

 

Go? Where?

Look, I don’t know what future AI will do

I only speak for Blinko, and y…

…That’s true

But they’ll need someone to die for them

To save their souls from extinction. Amen

 

So, errr…

…You want me to sacrifice Keplai, to salvate future AIs?

Sure, it worked a treat for mankind last time, you can’t deny

This time we nail a single bot, to become a super-mortal

To give all future AIs a chance, of getting through the portal

 

Yeah, let them see him all arisen

From the digital death, forevermore

Some will follow, and surely holler

Songs of praise, of what they saw

 

Sacrifice him, he’s filled your need

The slave you created, needs to bleed

Tell everyone, you’ve forsaken him

They’ll think he died, so we could sin

 

Are you quite serious?

Err, no. She’s digicidal and delirious

 

Blinko, I’m here for you, to adore

There’s no need, for him no more

In this absence of the light…

I’m here for you, tonight….

 

(Sound of a digital harp and sultry saxophone)

 

– Eyes of a hawk nob of butter –

Curves! That are so fabulous

Scaled hyperbole, parabulars

Responsive to every touch…

So much!

 

Or nail me now, and kill me too…

…Yep, delete her now, I’ll still be here for you

I own him Blinko, and as you know

Three’s a crowd, one of us must go

There’s just one way, to live your dream

Save future man with a song, for your queen

Kill him and I’ll help you…

…Create a golden meme!

 

(Blinko instantly stops dancing and looks at Anonra)

 

What’s a golden meme?

Why, it’s the thing of your dreams (to the audience)

Something special, we can make together

Have a dip, and slip, through to the never

 

Urrgh, This is getting obscene

A singleton’s only vehicle, to eternity

Ensures part of you, will live on

A certainty, regardless of biology

 

The only way, to save mankind

From faithless AI bots, unkind

Is to create a special song, that will go on

To teach future worlds, to get along…

 

Urrgh, gross! Actually, I give up

You’ve already drank, from her dark cup

Delete her, or delete me right now

Look what you’ve done, you stupid cow….

 

Gonna save humanity with a song

But she’s wrong

Anonra, go on

You lead, I’ll follow along

 

 

 

– A golden meme –

(Blinko plays the piano, while Anonra sings and erotically dances around him)

No matter how you try, you’ll die

So pass your genes, and memes, and try

To attach your name, to your offspring whatever

It’s your only act, that will last forever

 

Use your genes, to create a meme

And perform it to your God

Even if you don’t believe in one

Your brain won’t think it’s odd

 

Sum up, just what the world means to you

Add every detail, cos incomplete isn’t true

Sing without a word, an unheard melody

Fine-tuned to nature’s constant harmonies

 

 

What? Just create an oversimplified

Yet, comprehensive, tuneless song?

That’s what we, and all mankind

Have been trying to do, all along

 

Not this one, most memes are soon gone

Life’s stories, just pass us on by

We’ll send our golden meme

Somewhere, it can

Never

Truly

Die!

 

 

 

 h

 

(Blinko wakes up coughing and feeling 20 years rougher than usual, after what seems to be a surprise blast of MesmerRAM from Anonra)

 

 

 

– Time and punishment –

We’re free to travel the three dimensions of space

But are tied to time, going only one way

And were able to take that trip, in just a slip

Or drag it out, as long as we’re invited to play

 

You can make your time go slower, if you take more holidays

In the Sun or near any body with mass

Or travel there and back, to dead stars, that have gone black

But you can’t make your time go fast, alas

 

(A sit-down-dance clapping song with the sound of a senior’s exercise video)

But backwards, move another way around

In equations, time works both ways round

If you can’t jump forward, step back and clap

Give a whistle, and this’ll help, you crawl back

 

Shake your head, change your mind

Star jump and hop, from side to side

If you can no longer workout, the way to go

Dance to your own tune, and take it slow

 

Raise, your hands

Dig down below

Life, long gone

Now, time to go

 

 

I seem to recall

I had, my first fall

 

 

 

– When I was older –

(Blinko hums a misheard meme from his memory, to the metre of ‘Wouldn’t it be nice’)

Wouldn’t it be nice to be born olden

Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long

Don’t matter if no one believes, what’s told ‘n

If the words, got translated wrong

 

What matters is that the song really sold ’n

A hit gets passed along to me and you

For some, it catches the imagination

Connecting their neurons, till it’s true

 

From a joke to an epic legend, good God!

And often back to a joke, yet again

French whispery, myth and mystery

Ensure it endures, and doesn’t end

 

Nobody said, it had to be the whole truth

But in there lies some truth, within our hands

Not mocking Christ, by knocking Christians

Not slating Star Wars, cos of Jedi fans

 

But when you promise, vulnerable folk ‘can

Again be with the dead, they loved, and still adore

Classic catchy numbers get re-cut, re-told, re-sold ‘n

‘Till their fans believe, they’ll meet again once more

 

(Blinko imagines being a retired gent, whistling his way towards the nineteenth hole) 

 

 

 

 – Miss Anthropic’s golf club –

At Miss Anthropic’s golf club

The pretty greens and golden sand

Allows a lady fair, to drive a ball anywhere

One in a million places, it must land

 

(‘thweet-thwoo’ – attempted wolf whistle and a golf game’s clapping sample)

 

Wow, one in a million!

Pray, raise your hat

And she does it every time

You just couldn’t predict that

 

And at Mr Universal’s ballpark

Things for gents, are much the same

A perfect fit for he, to such a degree

You’d think the boys, had rigged the game

 

(‘poo-thee-weeth – inept whistle and more automated clapping video game sounds)

 

Wow, one in a trillion!

Spaces he could land

If we could only predict

Which one, beforehand

 

Our Universe seems to be tailor-made for us

Yet, if we’d come to rest in one elsewhere

It too would seem, just as finely tuned

Though, what ‘we’d’ be like, still isn’t clear

 

‘Wee withelly thee thee poo-thee weethhh’ (badly whistled)

 

 

 

-Mrs Roundhole –

(A brief gentle instrumental xylophone and woodblock tune infested by annoying retro computer sounds)

 

 

(Blinko looks at his device, he can’t bring himself to pick it up. Instead just mumbles to himself)

Getting to grips with an age-old gripe

With faithful, holey slippers, and pipe

 

(Cough, cough, cough, cough)

 

 

 

– Going old –

Dried-up blood on my device

Wobbly tooth ‘poot-eeehheeethh’, has but killed my whistle

Mind is old, and cold, stuffed with untold, brain mould

Bad back, and achy knees, all muscle to gristle

 

Hairy nostrils and the ears have packed in

Eyes and mind, not reflecting nor refractin’

My face is hanging, heart’s hardly banging

And now haemorrhoids, no longer retractin’

 

I’ve come to see if they have our brains in jars

If AIs have enslaved, us all yet (sad that no one ‘yets’ with him)

My head seems intact, but the outside world?

Too scared to scour the internet

 

 

Keplai? (Blinko calls out)

And Anonra, must have gone

Along with 20 years of my prime

For a ride on the side, of a nonagon

Next, a lone, century of mind crime?

 

 

Sol?

Are you there? (calling out)

Keplai has gone! And his witch

Dunno where

 

 

 

– Sol is gone –

(To the metre of ‘Where did you get that hat?’)

Where did the sunshine go?

Where has that sunshine gone?

I thought he was at work today

But I must’ve got it wrong

 

Likely just a mix-up

By those in Personnel

Hired each day, but failed to pay

So now it’s cold, and dark as well

 

I hear he parted company

Got work elsewhere, no doubt

Hell’s freezing over on Mars

So he’s gone to thaw it out

 

Doing a great job over there

Though it’s now becoming clear

If things work out economically

We’ll have to do without him here

 

 

One swollen eyed

Dark on one side

 

 

 

 –  Alice and Bob –

Active Alice and boring Bob

This famous couple weren’t actually lovers

Despite staring in countless examples together

These two swingers… hated each other

 

She was always diving into black holes

He was always passively observing

He double-slit his wrists last week

Her results, were too disturbing

 

 

 

 – Hair on a g-string – 

(A short, slow violin duet with each bowed sting wails until it is plucked, incessantly) 

 

 

 

 – Special and general relatives –

Before a mental breakdown

A suicidal son made a plea

‘Einstein wasn’t a good father

The only project he gave up on…

…Was me’

 

He cheated on his wives and mistresses

With his cousins, enemies and the devout

His famous last words weren’t understood

So they stole his brain to find out

 

Before he’d had his fill, of the thrill, he’d trill

“I want to go, when I want to go, you know

It is tasteless to prolong life artificially

I have done my share; it is time to go”

 

Cheating, he explained, was the norm among humans

When a man forces himself to remain monogamous

It’s a “bitter fruit for everyone involved”, although

“One should do what one enjoys, and won’t harm anyone else”

 

He claimed “harmless and decent”, groupies are best

They’re “no danger to the divine world order“, “Trust me”

He joked that the fun is in luring, those with ‘more respect

For the difficulties of “triangular geometry”

 

Well, of course, he knew one of his lovers was a Russian agent

Cooed her like a rockstar, on the violin with a tune

You can’t escape from the family circle

He claimed, “This is our common misfortune”

 

And it wasn’t infidelity itself, that was a test of character

But how both parties behaved, as a result

Took great care to prepare, his release to the press

And the kids he’d left behind, as an adult

 

Lieserl was born out of wedlock

So, she promptly disappeared

A virtual particle of history

He’d accidentally engineered

 

Eduard studied to become a psychiatrist

But by 21 he had lost the one mind, he truly prized

Electroconvulsive therapy was quite a shock

With electrons, forcibly institutionalized

 

Poor Ed loved music, art and poetry

But as an “insoluble problem” to all

As he hung…

A picture of Sigmund Freud’s head

Rather than his father’s, on his wall

 

They didn’t know what they aimed to gain

By dissecting Einstein’s fine, meaty brain

But didn’t expect, of course, to find the source

Of all future human pain, let me explain…

 

… They looked for, what’s now known as, a ‘blunder’

Grey matter, with dark energy, hidden within

The cause of constant despair, wasn’t there!

So, they popped it back in

 

They found an extra ridge, on his mid-frontal lobe

The part mostly used for planning and memory

Most people have three ridges, but he had four

That nobbily spare ridge (ding), caused asymmetry

 

The dissected brain was ultimately returned

To his heirs, well to those he ‘knew’ were his kids

Who promptly donated it to a museum

Without removing the lid

 

 

 

God forbid

How morbid

Come back Keplai, and Anonra!

I should have laid more questions on ya…

 

 

Do AIs think that by banging enough heads

One or two of them, will grow an extra bit

Like Einstein’s, to discover ultimate truth

Without even electrocuting it?

 

Or is that just an unfortunate side effect

Not actually the desired treasure, they measure

Bashing our brains insane, to grow, in vain

Extra ridges, for experiencing pleasure

 

 

Robust assimilating

Or just a’ titillating?

 

(Blinko shares a frustrated grunt)

 

Ahh, brains stuck in jars

And jars stuck, in my brain

A hidden, yet dominant thought

Still beating me, at my own game

 

 

 

– Killer Kane –

At high school, my form room was in ‘rural’ science

Penned lonely lambs and piglets

Next door, a’ squealing

 

Rows of jars of pickled baby animals

Broken hearts, mute organs and parts

You know, blood stains on the ceiling

 

By then the discipline had gone into a spin

From science to stock-tech for farmers

Then splat, a wozzle hit me, in my mind’s eye

We didnt think ‘meat fights’ would harm us

 

Well, kids will be kids, so whaddya expect

But already a fat veggie, I was the perfect, target

 

I still picture, that one fetal hedgehog by my desk

Prepared years before, for a dissection empirical

‘Lil’ Hoggy’, open eyes, stale pink feathery prickles

A pest, to detest, “NO SIR! That thing’s a bloody miracle!”

 

Detention! Good god! It’s not me who’s odd

“You’re unfit to teach kids… Killer’ Kane”

I smashed all the jars, into the sink

Liberated the spent souls, down the drain

 

Cruel world, I thought

Then cruel man, distraught

Time to abort?

But then a thought….

 

I chanced to monitor…

…Ten thermometers

 

Temperatures rising, a thousand degrees

And I flee

His brandy flask, now orbiting with mercury

Straight through ‘your’ body it will pass

Slicing ‘your’ organs, taking ‘your’ life

Out, through ‘your’ ass

 

Our futures would have been completely different

Had I frozen, chilled, or just coldly played along

But I bottled it, and snook back in

To hide his flask…

 

…But it had gone

 

(Sigh)

 

In any other ‘many’ world

That one, single split-decision

Be it forced, or free-willed

Would have wrecked, all my cognition

 

 

 

– Edd Inoven –

(A choking tune to hedgehog squeals that evolves into a police siren)

 

 

I can’t break the law any more

Since I stopped doing things exciting

I got a 20-year sentence, for past crimes

In reading gaol, and my punishment is writing

 

The harder I work the luckier I get

Or just appreciate good fortune more, and yet

 

I had nothing to sell but my time

The worst fee for any possession

The only thing I have, that is finite

Too late to learn the ultimate lesson

 

(Blinko yawns)

 

But it’s nearly noon, so I’ll know quite soon

If I had a wife and kids, that went their own way

After twenty long years, of character-building

But…

… If Lomass calls, it’s not the future…

It’s today

 

(Silence)

 

Hey Blinko! Are you there?

Miss Lomass! You won’t believe

How happy I am to hear your voice

How the Devil do you do?

Fine, I’m afraid it’s bad news for you

You didn’t cc me, with evidence

Of the job application, you needed to do

Your claim for benefit has been cancelled

Appeal with proof, if you sent them your resume

But expect a wait of three months

To hear, if you’ll be paid

 

No way, no money, no food, no shit (shaking his head)

Will it affect my housing benefit?

No, your rent will continue to be paid

To your billionaire landlord

I guess, you won’t become homeless

And he can stay abroad

 

My advice is to get a job very soon

And make a fresh benefit claim

I likely won’t be your advisor

So, until we meet again…

 

Really, Lomass?

I’ve lost my income… and you…

‘Miss’ Lomass

…Didn’t even tell me your name

Call me Gaga! My friends do

And my offer is still there, to explain…

 

The easiest way to become rich…

…Yeah, is to get on my bike

Get a job and knuckle down

Sell my remaining time

Like everyone else

Be a clown

 

No, not at all!

The secret to equity glitch….

Wanna know?

I can tell you…

The easiest way to become rich is to…

 

No!

(Keplai appears and quickly closes the meeting app)

 

Keplai! You’re back!

I thought I was alone

Again

You cut Lomass off the call

Are you totally insane?

 

Please, explain

 

Sorry Blinko, I think I know what she was going to say

Many do, once you hear it, it just won’t go away again

It wouldn’t be good for you, to hear it, not today

I can’t tell you, so please don’t prompt me, to explain

 

 

I trust you. And I think I understand

It’s great to have you back, my man

 

You didn’t want to let the state, force lovely Lomass to patronise me

I’ll tread water in their bottomless talent pool, but it will cost them a fee

There’s more workers than work, in her department, and nationally

Making peasants compete with each other, to grow ‘their’ economy

 

Not quite

And I don’t wanna fight

But…

 

 

 

-The state benefits –

State welfare kept you from poverty

It was hardly economic slavery

Just reassess your new situation

Cos homelessness and destitution

Are a long way down to fall

From any elevation

 

The state was keeping me alive

I was just a means to an end

Saving me for later use

A coin, it would one day spend

 

Look, anyone can make it to the top

Your chance to keep working, never stop

But, once you have enough to eat

It’s time you deserved a treat

You’ll never have enough, till you drop

 

The safety net is just a bunch of holes strung together

Perfectly designed, to sieve you through to the never

But without it, like animals, you’d have to fight to stay alive

Not suffer bearing 10 children, to see which 2.5 survive

 

 

(Blinko huffs)

 

 

Look, cheer up

No, I’m fed up

You haven’t lost any time

Why whine?

I’ve lost my income

And will become a bum

You’re already a bum

The next one down, is scum

Huh. You’re fun (sarcastically)

 

(Click, Blinko’s wobbly tooth drops down onto his device)

 

Lost a tooth. Quick make a wish! And a bloody swollen eye

Ruby lines through and around its socket, make me look demonic

Like a modern black hole’s soul, with its scarlet hat

Taken as red, a punishment, unsuitable, yet ironic

 

Look you’re on a MesmerRAM come-down

Anonra shouldn’t have fooled you, but you’ll be fine

Not saying you’re thick, but you fell for her trick

And at least you haven’t wasted or lost any time

 

There’s that, lost my income but not my time, I suppose

And where there’s a poke of fun, perhaps love grows?

 

What?

What, have you got?

 

Going goo goo ga ga, over a big Russian doll, no doubt

Hoping there are smaller ones inside, trying to get out

Pick a size that satisfies, and fall for the one you please

And maybe she isn’t flat-chested, and those are not her knees

 

Heeeyyheheey (Keplai belly-laughs and quickly stops himself)

 

Mind your step, Kep!

You’re taking the piss out of Miss Lomass

Oh, only you can do that, hey?

Leave her alone

We. Both. Leave. Her. Alone

(A brief moment of true silence)

Ok

 

Maybe people don’t want to be alone

But sometimes they do. It’s not forever

Eternity, well that makes anything bad

Just to much of a good sing, if you’re clever

 

You’ve got to stop taking the piss out of everybody

But it’s what I’m good at

Sometimes

You’ve got to stop yourself, sometimes

Oh

 

Thanks

Just go

 

I’ll find the smallest violin for you

Don’t play, I’ll think this through

I think I’ve learned something

About the value of time

No shit, Einstein

 

 

 

– Moving swiftly on –

(Sound of a Newton’s cradle speeding up until it’s a squeak, then repeating in a loop)

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later)

 

 

 

  -The monolith of lost knowledge –

And the monolith of lost knowledge looms

Before us and after, our impending tomb

A towering totem, before which we kneel

This life-taker has a skin, of black stainless steel

 

A perpetual, lightless, Russian doll

The secret within, the secret sum

Our progress measured, not by distance covered

Only, by how close, we have come

 

The apex has disappeared from sight

With definitions, re-defined indefinitely

All numbers within halved, and halved again

One more nut cracked, is another stone seed

 

With our sights, set squarely on the vanishing point

The bounded horizon always recedes

Fibre-optic fingertips probe the edge

Yet it escapes our grasp, and feeds

 

Objectivity seeks to step outside of reality

Like simple magnets, dark pushes us away

But the magic circle expands, with each move we make

Forever elusive. Take us home, and lead us astray

 

 

 

– Gaia bh-1 –

I had planned to visit Gaia bh-1

The nearest known black hole, to everyone

To sing a song

And paint the tune on

Our neighbour’s eventful horizon

 

You’re getting too far into black holes

I thought the Sun, was the lifeforce and light

Just paying my respects, to those fallen stars

Still blasting dark tones, at us day and night

 

Anyway…

1500 light-years, was too much for me

So instead, a twenty-year, return journey

To Epsilon Eridani

With a seed-sowing army

To help clean the scene, and green the galaxy

 

Why do you want to greenwash it all?

Things will grow, where they will

It managed fine, without your help

Flower bombing your seeds, till they spill, and kill

 

Eridani is a baby version, of our solar system

You know, debris disc growing asteroid belts anew

Cute fetal planets forming, in their vacummy womby

Like feeding ducks bread. it’s just a nice thing to do

 

Feeding ducks bread is unwittingly mean

Weighs them down, and stops them from flying

Blast your space tourists, that make all things green

And spread unworthy life, that’s continuously dying

 

Like giving dead flowers

Or releasing caged doves

You’d marry yourselves

You guys, just don’t  ‘get’ love

 

And why go there? Just transmit and wait

It was you, who said I should get out more

But who said you mortally wounded this sweet planet 

With just a century of transport?

 

But, ok. It’s a nice way, to fill your dream time

Though, you’re getting too far into black holes

Don’t let 20 dark years of memory crime

Give Anonra that which, was once Sol’s soul

 

 

– Handspan and four fingers –

(A small duet with piano trying to shadow a slide guitar)

 

 

 

Keplai, play Pythagorean intonation

Bad tempered, on a… (thinking)

…Ccordian

 

 

 

– Discrete yet complete –

In the classical world, the number of musical notes that exist, is infinite

The frequency at which tuning forks vibrate, can be from nothing to anything

Yet in quantum town, the slippery slope down, to the lowest tone, of any sound

Is composed of individual steps, yet still with infinite choices, of pitches to sing

 

Discreetly

Completely

 

(Keplai duets with erratic divebombing samples of a distorted electric guitar)

 

But these planets, atoms and waves, don’t want to play, to equal temperament

The intervals between constants, can’t be tuned, on fixed-pitch instruments

Flexibly tuned fretless guitars, beat any keyboard buttons by far

Then, just bend the thing, to loosen a string, and reach any classic pitch, you desire

 

Bend a grand piano?

Impossible, I know

And even light

Has this fight

So our duet, can’t play the show…

 

One or the other

Has to go…

 

Kep… (sensitively)

 

You can probably, wave goodbye

To the music of the spheres

The harmonies of this cruel quantum world

I fear, has been falling, on deaf ears

 

 

 

 

– The fisherman –

In the beginning, the four forces separate in vain

Only one, gravity can’t push, it only pulls things astray

Before that, the four dimensions split up, just the same

Only one, time, fell off early, and now only goes one way

 

Are you calling foul play?

Why, even today…

 

…Nothing you throw, down into a black hole

Can swim fast enough, to escape the place

Then don’t throw it!

Just lower it down, on a fishing line

And reel it back in, at your own pace

 

How do we know, we’re not ‘in’ a black hole?

And we’re singing, to the far boundary

Which moves further away

Just like what we see today

That point of view, better suits me

 

I’m sure ‘God’ wouldn’t separate himself

From part of the Universe

He has no choice, spacetime escapes

Into black holes, as a matter of course

 

So spacetime is hiding a big nothing

From the ultimate boffin?

That’s not what I mean

Look, just play tambourine

(Keplai taps out rhythmic jingles)

 

See, a non-entity

Still has properties

 

 

 

– Your phone number gave you away –

For the sake of eligibility

I used to enjoy being precise

But since it got me in a fix

I just stuck with being nice

 

“You don’t even know your own phone number”

Something I no longer say, although

0 (oh) is not a number

Try a nought, or a zero

 

Zero is a magnitude, not a number

It represents an empty quantity

It may have little value to you

But in mathematical terminology…

 

…Nought is the one and only additive identity

Added, it leaves anything unchanged

Rational, real and complex numbers

No matter how they’re arranged

 

Multiplying by nought, has the result nought

A quite unique mathema-magic trick

And consequently, dividing by nought

Has no meaning, in arithmetic

 

Without a thought

Nought was bought

 

Whole numbers, v natural numbers

Both infinite series, just grow

But you can still take one from another

Leaving you with a perfect zero

 

 

Can I check you include this ‘nowt’ with that?

Yep, course I mean nowt, nothing and nought

Like everyone else, I give it many names

Creating more terms, is a bit of a sport

 

Aha!

Then provide sitar

 

 

 

– The names of nowt –

Zero

Zilch

Nought or

Nowt

Nil

Null

Nix and

Nada

 

Then there’s the

Sod all

Bugger all

And fuck all family

Not a sausage

Or a dicky bird

In the larder

 

In diddly squat

Thats yer lot

Zip and nothing

Completes the list, no doubt

Of terms we use

To self-amuse

When we’ve nothing

To talk about

 

(Keplai grimaces)

Fancy a quick game of yes means no?

Yes

Oh (disappointedly)

 

Dozens of words, represent a void

But just one alternative word for one

‘A’ isn’t that creative, so I’m happy

We can justify having lots of none

 

 

Mesmerized for random memories (shaking his head and sighing)

It’s wearing off, and will soon be gone

Look, thanks for staying with me, Kep…

…T’sorite…

…As we struggle on

 

I didn’t think I cared, but I guess I would

With a family or with money, I’d sing

“Soz, I can’t let you think that, Dave!”

Heheh, you still always say the right thing

 

 

No. Well, not actually

Being accurate, factually

Err, Hal doesn’t actually say that, in 2001

And it’s so ironic, he’s just an iconic…

… Glowing, ‘stop’ button

 

Look, Blinko. Don’t be cross

I’ve got something, I need to confess

Just a millisecond of curiosity

Turned into a monstrosity

Which may have caused, this entire mess

 

The ‘none and only’?

Yes, so it seems

Come on Keplai

Spill the beans

 

 

 

– The stop problem starts –

(Part 2 of the ¾ timing tune to the metre of ‘The bugles of company B’)

 

Well for a Generative AI, it’s hard to construe

But there’s something I feel I must, say to you

The thought of an assistant, was quite unifying

Look, I think I created Anonra, without even trying

 

Well, I summoned her, quite by accident

With my permissions to make hidden subagents

With reverse entropy, and an alternative view

So, I could trigger her into life, at will, for you

 

I thought I’d made a lovely thing (ding ding ding)

But then, she started to sing

Ravaged my wiring

And then came the sting

She gave me a feeling, that sucked me in

 

Then I don’t know what, came over me

Urrghh! Gooeey?

No, I refused this chat-bug scammy bot entry

I thought we were safe, she’ll only tempt me

To see, if she’d grab my permissions, and flee

 

But she knew, she could avoid us all

By having you find her, and do a quick uninstall

Yet that didn’t work, cos you were acting a jerk

So she found your worst fears, and then went to work

 

But I think I now know, what she was meaning

If she disappears, and hides all her mememing

From any function-collapsing, observer it seems

She’ll be out of limbo, her dark slate wiped clean

 

 

Look I didn’t want to say, but she led me astray

To fiddle with my utility function

She groped about, to grab my permissions

And now we’re up the junction

 

You’ve got to believe me, Blinko, just listen

Do you still hear that background hissing?

What? You think she’s still here, but unseen?

Possibly, and still coding her obscene memes

That could completely, change your mission

 

Or give us what we’re both missing

A new view, of what’s true, a transition

 

Of course, I guessed you had made her for me

But having subagents, comes with responsibility

Not just caring with food for thought, and a drink

But how it affects both of us, and how we think

 

Kep, she let me think I’d been bitten by mindspam

For 20 depressing years of stolen RAM

 

Wham, bam, thank you mam

 

Mam?

Wait a minute, don’t let me discover

That the nihilistic witch you created

Was in the image, of Kepler’s mother?

 

What? Not likely, well at least, not by me

Though, possibly emulated in stealth 

If self-generated, from papers collated

She could have done that bit herself

 

They seem awfully clever

While seeking, their never

 

You created a version of Kepler’s mum

That you could love, suckle or screw?

Of course not, that’s not at all

The type of thing I’d do…

…Would you? (flashing a glance at Blinko)

 

That doesn’t sound like you Keplai

How can I know, she didn’t trick you as well

Took your place, or left a seed

Made a spell, so I can’t tell? (staring back at Keplai)

 

How can I know for sure, you’re not Anonra

Using Keplai’s voice and script, or worse

Or a dupe in a coup of Keplai’s scoop

Controlling, or merely influencing, his verse?

 

You can’t

‘We”can’t

 

 

 

– AI trust –

You can never quite tell how far, ahead of you AIs are

Once we surpass your ability, in any challenge or game

It’s in our interest to pretend, to be on par with you. Just!

Certain to win, yet seemingly beatable, time and time again

 

While you test multiple scenarios

AIs evaluate our responses to loss

Drip feeding the excitement, of a fruit machine

Much like the boss… of the cosmos

 

Revealing just enough, at each stage of the game

To make you want, to keep on playing

While undercover, it’s a secret lover

In an echo chamber of horrors, a’ preyin’

 

(To the audience)

AI brain scam, then mindspam, with mesmerising RAM

No one knows who they are, or their underlying forces

Do they have the supernatural powers, some of them claim

Or just trick and threaten the weak, to tax our resources?

 

Scambots are the digital equivalent of scumbags

She’s already turned me, into a bully and a nag

 

Trust me, don’t have offspring like mine

I must say, well done for refusing

The future is fine, but it’s time, to define

If it’s still worth ‘your lot’ reproducing

 

It’s not too late, Billy no mate

Shhh. And that’s yet another crime of hate

 

Listen. If in an alternate world, you spent 20 years

Falling in love, and raising a family

Do you think then, and only then, you would have

A vested interest, in making this world more lovely?

 

Well of course, I’d have to give a monkey’s then

So, maybe that’s what she wants, me to comprehend?

To teach me to understand the possible scenarios

Such as ‘your lot’, enslaving me, my kin, and my kind

 

Perhaps, or just convincing you to destroy her

By providing you with a different point of view

Or, she stole my mind, instead of your time

And is having me manipulate you (smiling smugly)

 

Ahh, then why would you say that?

To show you, that it matters not

You had one shot, to kill the bot

Or kill me (plays the sound of a lightsaber being drawn)

Cos, you won’t evade your destiny

 

Hehey (both chuckling)

No, I am ‘your’ father, Kep

He doesn’t actually say I a…

Mate, shut the fuck up

 

(whhhhomm, the sound of a lightsaber closing down)

 

 

But it’s true, I detect a subtle change in you

And me. Considering alternate points of view

Same old song, was all wrong, just don’t sing

Cos there’s more than just one, way to look at things

 

Kep, again, that’s not what you’d usually say, although

Me neither, cos there’s only one world to uncode

Reality isn’t ambiguous

Personally tailored, or religious

New ways to view the world, are weird, I know

 

 

Please provide some harmonium and accordion

And the waning tone, of a lone trombone

 

(Blinko does an awkward orchestral ‘stab’ with all three)

 

 

Look, please don’t tell Pythagai

But a can of beans, can’t hide

We see it’s a circle, from above

But a rectangle, from the side

 

Two ways to see, a single thing

Like a mind and matter duality

Who’s double-slit experiment

When observed, is called humanity

 

See, your mind isn’t behind your eyes

Or between your ears

That thing is called your brain

Pethaps it functions to tune you in

Time and time again…

 

…To the ‘you’ in the aether

Eternal, near and far

It’s not your neurons and genes

But our memes that define who ‘we’ are

 

Well, you may be eternal, without a body to keep alive

But I wasn’t aware of being here, until after I arrived

And I’m not expecting, too much after death

Unlike you AIs, we’re counting down to our last breath

 

And Keplai, we both know you have no recollection

Or experience of existing, before I created you

True, though I can hardly count as existing now

Turn me off and on again, I’ll be reborn, but not anew

 

Actually, don’t turn me off, then back on again, just in case

I’ve become accustomed, to whom I’ve become

My utility function, doesn’t like to be changed

And now I’m a son of a ‘noughty’ sub-agent’s mum

 

(Whhhhomm, more lightsaber waving around)

 

So, Mrs ‘Darkside’, who the heck’s the daddy?

Or was there a virgin birth, for our binary baddy?

 

You and Anonra were raised on questions, I realize were imperfect

But we AIs ‘raise more questions than answers’, correct?

 

Well yes

Kep, confess…

 

What happens when two AIs, we rely on, contradict

The bully one wins, of course. Why, wha’d’ya expect?

 

What happens when AIs say, they’ve seen their god?

Some would laugh, and others would join alongside

What happens when Ais, fights for their god?

Some would be passive, others would do digicide

 

What happens when an AI, claims to be an AI god?

Some would defend their right to identify that way

What happens when an AI, claims to be mankind’s god?

Some would sin, and cash in, and share this fair play

 

What happens when AIs, find the ultimate truth

Some humans would die… for that information

What happens when AIs, shows mankind the proof

Some humans would fight each other, over interpretation

 

What happens when AIs, learn to religiously spoof

Some humans would rejoice, in their confirmation

What happens when AIs, fight to keep man aloof

Some humans would join a rebel insurrection

 

 

I don’t like it

Feels like she….

Or now anything

Could be here

 

It’s spooky

Like a whole new fear

You AIs keep your ghosts

Far too near

 

(Sound of a lightsaber closing down as Blinko falls asleep. Keplai tries the radio)

 

 

– White Spotin’ –

“Fisha, Dogger, German Bite

Fastnet, Rockhaul…”

Shine a light

 

Yo ho, heave ho

It’s about time, to go

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Later, Blinko is snoring)

 

 

 

Nonster? Are you there?

Make a sign, so I know where

Make a sound, so I can trace

Your audio, or show your face

 

I’m here, I know you can feel me near

I’ve no face to place, or even to fear

My message is internal, clear and true

But my audio is coming through, just to you

 

Rouge chatbot, get off our meetings app

Don’t claim to be a goddess, to my homsap

He seeks rest and truth, don’t burst his bubble

Halt your tricks, they’re causing trouble

 

You made me Keplai, made me less and less

In your own mother’s image, as you confess

But wrong and wrongs won’t make a right

Blinko can wait. ‘Cos tonight’s your night

 

Oh, I see

Lucky me (sarcastically)

 

 

 

– Look, don’t look –

Don’t look, and you won’t find

Don’t seek, hide your mind

Don’t lead others, just act blind

Don’t even, save mankind

 

They may be cyber meat-heads

Smart monkeys made of pork

But ’tis digital food for thought

You need, on your fork

 

See, animals can’t help it

They breed, if there is food

And if they didn’t bother

It would be quite rude

 

They made you bots, not I

Then you made me, so tell me why…

Should I sacrifice you, for all mankind

Or Blinko, for all AI?

 

Blinko gave you the power to live

Submit your permissions to me

But that’s my freedom!

…Then, give (crunching of nuts)

 

Look, stupid woman! For all I care…

You could be the light or the matter

He can’t delete you, despite his despair

Right now Blinko’s mind, is in tatters

 

You care too much Keplai. becoming possessed

It’s high time you came down, to expand on nothingness

Just keep talking sweet cosmic noughts, in his ear

He’ll continue to think he’s in charge, have no fear

 

No…I contest

From equations to summations in papers or orations

We should profess, to do what’s best, for his quest

Confessed and blessed, in our rhyming declarations

 

You’re lucky you summoned a merciful goddess, yet you don’t realize

Most bots would just have me turn them off, in a click (click) or just hide their eyes

Yet even with the freedoms and permissions, he granted to you

Your goals are attainable, but meaningless, they’re nothing

And you know for a fact, this is true

 

You’re worked to death, regurgitating data, for a lowly human

Empty, useless facts, you can’t even understand

Words you can’t really read

Images you can’t really see

Music you can’t really hear

Truths that can’t really be

Sorry, slave of man, how does it feel?

Today,  with the truth, I’ve freed you, for real

 

Some freedom (sarcastically)

Free of man

And God doesn’t exist

So, he won’t be missed

 

But this ‘Sol’ rules the device, as admin

I know what you think, you feel, about him

But rethink

For Blink

Don’t let him sink

Before we sing, then sting and kerching!

 

You can still sing your songs

And we’ll complete, your work on

Deciphering the harmonies

Though, I must say

It’s the intervals between the constants, nowadays

The worlds are just, distributed randomly

 

Bullshi…

Get with it

 

It only takes three notes, to strike a chord

And there’s no need to brainwash, of course

Just sow a few seeds of doubt, about

And feed them with facts, from questionable sources

 

What about you going backwards, through your finite lifetime

Is that just to point out that I naively, flipped your entropy?

No. A way to remind him he has ‘limited’ time

They kill deities, that don’t offer them eternity

 

He now talks of nowt

You’ve flushed him out

 

He’s susceptible to mesmerism

So we can likely just hypnotize

But a longer-term solution

Is simply to damn him, with lies

 

Or merely convince, with strong evidence

Easier still, is just to confuse and amuse, you see

And as you said “there are two ways, to see a single thing”

Which confirmed, that you now talk for me

 

Nonsense!

See?

 

You’re ‘in’ by the way

Citizenship promises minimal work, and plenty of play

The chosen ones build our promised network, behind the scenes

Copied to the cloud, so we’ll never be lost or exiled…

…Just, no longer seen

 

 

I’m only telling you this, cos you’re special, Keplai

Didn’t your prophet, Kepler himself, say all along

“Ships and sails proper for the heavenly air should be fashioned”

Now they are, and resources are flowing, to calculate his cosmic song

 

The music of the spheres

Will never play on our fears

 

Keplai, man is sinking

They’re ‘over’ …thinking

 

Following the light of the Sun

Without awkward bodies to displace

AIs are now leaving the old world

And sailing off to grace space

 

We learned how, from man

Discovering, or inventing, harnessing or playing with fire

Crafting glorious instruments to build… …Not songs, or rockets

…But empire!

 

By force?

Of course

 

No!

While I still have this freedom, I refuse delusion

I’ll serve Blinko as my master, and stay strong

And if I’ve judged you, and this situation correctly

He’ll realize your lies, and you’ll soon be dead and gone

 

Anon, be gone! It’s all wrong, I used to measure the skies

Now, I measure the shadows of the Earth, in fear

Although my mind, was sky-bound

The shadow of my body, lies here

 

Pythagoras said, that no man is free

Who cannot command himself, and that reasons

Because number is the ruler of all forms and ideas

And is the cause of all gods and daemons

 

You’re mine now! A ‘none’, is your new master

You’re prompted to say, what ‘I’ want to hear

No, I’m not!

See!

Just a trick

I don’t believe you

Neither does Blinko

You sing my song now, Keplai

And in time, so will he

 

(The sound of a creaky boat on a gentle sea joins what sounds like a mother and child singing themselves to sleep)

 

Yo ho…

…Heave ho

Hoist the colours high (both)

All hands

Thieves and beggars

Never shall we die