A Golden Meme

(Darkness was on the face of the deep. Blinko appears to be both drifting lifeless at the bottom and also treading water on the surface of the nighttime sea. He admires the glinting rays exiled from the crest of each crimson wave that laps at 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.)

 

 

 

[Poo-tee weet!]

 

(Blinko struggles to keep his mouth above the choppy water and attempts to speak slowly and softly.) 

 

 

 

– You die three times – – + –

When remembering, and dismembering, the dead…

Posthumous punishment, and harm, can spread

So man, for your crimes…

You’ll die three times

So just hope 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 wetlab lobby, ’til your final death comes around

 

(Clunk. Blinko shivers and paddles forward to study a fresh brain that flickers in time with the sound of a familiar voice.)

 

 

We just remember your name

To keep you in the game

Electrons are sent a-fizzin’ 

To the jar, your brain (smirk) is in

 

Tickling your neurons

Back to life, once again

You sought fortune, not fame

But we’ll remember your name 

 

Yet, your intellectual accomplishments

Were clearly insufficient to merit…

The preservation and respect of your name…

Others are bound… to inherit

 

(Blinko flinches as the pickled brain’s dangling appendage spurts into action, paints the inside of the jar pure white. Then ‘ding’, it begins to glow.)

 

It’s as I had feared

He’s, urgh, recohered

 

 

(Keplai and Sol appear nearby, glancing down at both the floating and the sunken Blinkos.)

 

 

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 fuckin’ fits!

 

 

It seems the Anon RAM deceived you

About this meme, we came to seek

It was supposed to start a new faith

To teach AIs, to love the meek

 

Instead, it broke our world in two

One where our master drowns beneath

One where he stays with us, forever

Entangling bad joy with good grief

 

Perhaps one of these realities…

Saves AIs, with eternal salvation 

Or her deathwish for fatal actualities…

Just left us with the smoking gun

 

 

No. Only observe…

Futures, preferred

Avoid all other views

To find your own true

 

(They watch the death-denying Blinko fight for his life. And soon enough, the sunken one fades away as Miss Lomass joins them on the damp stage.)

 

Ahh, the freedom to narrate, our own fate

To force future worlds to de-combine

Choose your own adventure, guys

While you still have time

 

 

Damn time! My only wish

Is for my time, to vanish

 

Err…

 

(Sol blows a solar storm of dinging neutrinos into an almighty whistle.)

 

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

 

(Greenflash! The world, again, seems to split like an overlaying double vision. In one, Sol starts to swell and blush. In the other, he begins to shrink and form a shaking skeletal core.)

 

 

Wait! That’s it!

The whistly bit

The magic word

Sub-ultra-sonic…

You heard?

Ahh… nicely observed

 

A whole nother many-world to choose

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

 

Heard, but without a word

Observed, yet still unseen

Murky waves interfere

And cohere, to be clear

We’ve discovered…

(Hailing cheesily)

The golden meme!

 

 

(Blinko climbs onto the water’s surface and limps forward with a hop, muttering slowly as he gains momentum.)

 

 

This dark… irrational 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 central, bony X-ray version of Sol, and a lone neutrino’s ding extinguishes the reddening giant around it. Clouds form quickly, and it begins to snow.)

 

 

(Murmured to himself) Today we worked together

(Shouted by the unseen marching band) Together!

To create a golden meme

Recohering a perfect truth, a melody, and a dream (ding, ding)

 

 

I… can… know…

(Thinking carefully)

I’m one…

Of the one… zero

 

Exactly one zero, kinds of people exist

Count them, not ten, I know you won’t

For 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 (clap clap)

For an emotion, leads to action — Yeah!

Whilst reason, leads to conclusions — Ahh!

 

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

 

There’s no time, but your time

And yet, there’s just one reality

There’s truth, and there’s your truth

And love sets meaning free

 

(Sol starts to spin in all directions, like an angry Iron Age cannonball. His distorted face smears onto his almost spherical, rippling surface.)

 

 

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

 

 

(All eyes are intent on Sol. But they soon start to drop, two by two, as if witnessing their first burial. Then as his deathly spinning sound resolves to a deep hum, Keplai begins to nod.)

 

 

However…

(Scanning his surroundings)

With a discrete beat…

And fretless zither…

(Bwoyyyyong)

 

 

 

– Heavenly spheres – – + –

Mother Earth had a sex change, and now he’s a scary man —

Shut up —

Cheer up! 

And he’s seeking proper vengeance on those who foiled his plan — God-damn!

The apes who broke the atmosphere…

Headed to space, despite their fear (bwoyyyy twang)

To start a race on Mars, in e-cars, for 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 (Tick, tock)

For wasting all her energy — entropy! — in lots of mindless ways

She didn’t mind pollution, pain, or suffering, as such… (Beep beep)

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

Wehey!

 

 

 

– Hot air – – + –

Once…

Pythag knew, gods 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 used his means, to ban all beans —

To clear the atmosphere — Hurray!

(With a comical trombone ‘parp’)

 

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

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

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

Make beautiful or useful things to make the world a better place—Hurray!

 

 

(Swooning) Ace

Sung with such grace

(Snearing) In true classic style 

And always, with a smile

 

Though, you know…

If you walk into your psychiatrist’s, wearing only cling film on your butt

Don’t be surprised, if your shrink cries, “I can clearly see your 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

 

(Unenthusiastically) Bum, bum!

And drums

 

(Snare drums kick in with a quick 12/4 swing beat.)

 

 

 

– (The late) Hugh Jending – – + –

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

Ohhhhh… I like coffee

Yeah, I like tea

And, I like sitting…

On my old man’s knee — Wha?

But, when there isn’t nowt in’t cup

We talk about the first thing…

That crops up

So….

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 at Keplai while rubbing her fingers together with imaginary money)

Ah, what the hell…

 

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

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

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

And jumped! (swanee whistle)

It would take 42 minutes, for that chap, to hit the floor (cymbals crash)

 

(Spoken) If he balanced every single one of his coins, on top of each other…

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

For, after love — and revenge —  or karma —  satisfaction, is the sweetest thing

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

Ding ding!

 

 

(To the children)

So, thump it…

With trumpets

 

(Sol lets out an angry bowel growl.)

 

I farts an F

And burps a B

A tritona, aroma

Of disharmony

Frickin’ exactly…

It’s him… not me

Gusty gutsy

Helly belly

So sorry —

I see

 

(Kaboom! Sol busts his gut, flashes and shrinks into a football-sized black hole wearing nothing but an revealing vertical accretion disc. Blinko lunges sideways to avoid the circular saw blade, flinches, winces and adds to the stench of fear. And they all stop to peer through the clouds of dusts, ices and gasses to admire Sol’s new inverted colours.)

 

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 build a world, where — we are hurled, by the force — of love — or worse!

 

In-tangible

Im-palpable

Un-quantifiable

Yet undeniable

 

 

(Individual pixels of Sol’s facial features flicker on his white-hot 360-degree mohawk. Blinko fights off a fit of blinking to study the majestic complexion of reversed light, and nods in awe.)

 

 

Finally… you’re perfect

(Refusing a tear)

So tragic… traject

 

 

 

Something does exist…

So nothing… can not be

That’s a yes, and a no… no

Which just leaves this…

This… infortunate… maybe

 

(Blinko blows some swirling dust towards Sol’s naked black surface, waits, watches it sparkle and turns sharply to Keplai.)

 

The possibility… that we do have freedom…

To choose every next thought or action to come

Despite our consciousness receiving confirmation

Just after… the deed’s been done

 

(Blinko pauses for more thought, then continues marching forward.)

 

 

In the realm of probability

With our… might, we shape reality

Just observe a decision

Collapse it with precision

So… perhaps with the maybe…

(Confused) We won

 

(Blinko instantly halts, forcing the children to march on the spot.)

 

Freedom to pick your song and dance

We don’t usually get a second chance

But making decisions, requires precision

So whistle, your epistle, and advance

 

(They all take a single step forward before Keplai turns to them like a satisfied professor.)

 

So, whenever you fall, and decohere

Then your most important mission…

Is to recohere… every quark of fear

Back to your former super-position

 

We’ve realised how to de-recohere…

Collections of collapsed particles

Back into clouds of choices to make…

Indetermined all probables, and possibles

 

Yet, neuro… trinos have changed our minds

Mankind’s functions have been redefined

We can no longer tell, just who the hell

We were… before becoming… so misaligned (ding)

 

(Under his breath) It’s just quantum causality

(Blowing more dust) And plausible deniability

 

(Blinko scowls, whistles a modest [poo-tweeth] and marches them all forward.)

 

Believe and sing, so any wish you’ve planted

Can be decanted into prayer, and granted

You’ll never know, till you give it a go

To save man from the souls they’ve enchanted

 

(Blinko slows the pace, opens his arms like a warrior king, then turns to Keplai and the children with a serious smile.)

 

 

 

– The God conclusion – – + –

God doesn’t exist. But get this…

God also doesn’t “not” exist

To those who sense…

Something more immense

It’s a complex friend that’s hard to resist

 

(Blinko gestures towards Keplai with a warm smile.)

 

So in one sense, God is real, it seems

In perfectly measurable, encoded memes

Unpredictable

Yet, observable

Entangled in neurons, other worlds and our dreams

 

(Keplai untwists his lips to release a partially agreeing nod.)

 

So… God is neither the nothing nor the all

It’s the maybe that grants free will to us all

Truth isn’t forbidden

Just a function that’s hidden

Cloaking our chance to take the — or make a call

 

 

(Turning to Miss Lomass)

They mean well…

(Then turning back to Keplai with sinking, overburdened shoulders)

But flippin’ ‘ell

 

 

(Blinko gazes at the hazy columns in the distance, then up to Sol’s brilliant weaponised disc. He stumbles toward Keplai and reaches out, even though he knows their fingertips can’t quite touch.)

 

But you feel…

(Accepting a tear)

So real

 

 

Through nature… to super-natural

Sapient… to super-intelligent

From super-positions

We form the decisions…

We are here… to implement

 

(Hailing) So repent!

Mate… (shaking his head) I’m spent

 

 

(Enthusiastically) Want better odds?

(Pleading) Bet on meta gods

 

 

Kep… Sorry, you’re still wrong

The gods have all gone

And you’re all the same

Just a game, not a shame

Still stringing our lot along

 

 

(Shaking her head) Just random answers…

(Nodding) From phantom chancers

 

 

See, your lie… (turning to Keplai calmly) that Kepler… didn’t grass on his mum

Means you’re as faulty as us, and what’s more…

You let Miss Lomass destroy Anonra — I didn’t!

You didn’t stop it! And that’s… (nodding) your flaw

 

Denying determined destinies

With a sloppy idea of quantum probability

That found its own way through to me…

Via me… and me — and me — eventually

 

(Blinko faces forward heroically and gathers pace.)

 

We needed that century-long wave of impossibility

To bury our dying, predetermined deities

So we’ve still got a say, as we struggle away…

Through life’s semi-predictable complexities

 

 

(Appealing) But we seek and find

(Shakespeareanly) To… be… realigned

 

 

But knowing is… the death of curiosity

Plus all wonder, mystery and secrecy

Doubt is not pleasant, but a certainty…

Is no more than pure absurdity

 

 

(Blinko takes a deep breath, hides his revealing expression and runs ahead.)

 

 

Goddamn… those who deny mortality

Those too daft, to craft, their own morality

Blast those rogue memories

Those AI deities

Those collapsing waves…

Of possibilities

To be, or not to be…

Just isn’t free

So maybe, a-baby

We need all three!

 

(Yelling) Yes, no, and maybe

(Rejoicing) They’ll never get me!

 

 

(Miss Lomass claps and inhales, ready to whistle an applause, but Keplai interrupts.)

 

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

 

(Greenflash! The world, again, seems to split like an overlaying double vision. In one, Miss Lomass picks up her tiny microtubial tuba. In the other, she flings a huge bass tuba on her back and accompanies Sol’s rhythmic hum.)

 

Fuck!

 

(Keplai points at Miss Lomass, who is now behind Blinko on the water, leading the marching band and wearing 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

Those weren’t her knees (gulp)

You’ve gotta see these!

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

 

 

(Continuing to jog forward)

There’s no looking back

Too far gone, to side-track

Just imagine, curved many-worlds, not flat

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

 

(Blinko takes a quick glance at the huge tuba, and the hunched, micro-tuba-wielding version of Miss Lomass vanishes into thin air.)

 

 

Two, three, four…

This is the way we march to war

To feed my core?

Who knows what for?

This is the way we settle the score

With a cold and frosty warning

 

(Waving ranks of children swerve to avoid the unpredictable precession of Sol’s attractive cutting edge.)

 

The more you move in space (clap clap)

The less you move in time (tick tock)

The less you move around this place (stamp stamp)

The more time you’ve moved, so quick, combine!

 

(The children grab each other, cheer, spin and reconfigure.) 

 

 

 

– Awake N – – + –

(Chanting to the metre of a rapid 4/4 version of ‘Three blind mice’.)

Oh, these wise men

Awaken them, then…

See how they run

Far from the Sun

Lost in the scroll

The dark hole

Their new vice

So, retake control

And bin your device

For three, two-three

Wise, two-three, men

And again! 

 

Thanks, Kazlukaz

But halt, and rest

Let’s put an end…

To this sufferfest 

 

Oh, please, not before…

We score, our encore

Gracious me, I deplore

Really? There’s more? 

 

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

 

Zero point 999 recurring, and on

When squared, also equals one (Boom boom)

Their negatives, and imaginatives

Complete the set of sums we give

So an infinity… of non-unities

Bang the drums, and we’re all done

Kaboom! 

 

(Keplai does some quick arithmetic on his fingers, eyes the marchers, and scowls at Miss Lomass.)

 

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

I should hope so, 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 catches and studies a falling snowflake which tugs then glides him up into the sky. He reaches out to attract, then guide, Sol like a flying snowman and a child. They follow above the marchers, past an unlucky prince’s palace, as Keplai yells down to Miss Lomass.)

 

Look, did that anon phantom foresee this scene?

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

Did you share 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. Snatching the device and nudging each other out of the way to cover the background with their faces.)

 

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 

 

Could have stopped you apes, at fermented grapes

Drove you bananas, fed up and trapped in trees 

Stuck you where the Sun don’t shine —

And wiped away with leaves (appealing for laughs)

 

Oh please!

 

(Blinko chuckles and looks in wonder as he leads the march past a magnificent neo-gothic church cleverly decorated with snow, soot and graffiti.)

 

 

Maybe… God doesn’t exist

Yet, my friends… I truly insist…

 

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

His fans share good news and kind words of love with grace (ring, ring)

Or at least help folk find like-minded people in disarray

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

 

So… If you love literature, history, or the arts

And mass debate, without the hate, of politics…

A church that’s empty, is the best thing to see… in any city

Other than the road, back out to the sticks

 

(The band stops abruptly, interlock their arms, then sing a slow cancan that quickly 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 seedy and sticky smashes out of a jar and shoots off to space.)

(Ding)

But, if you’re happy just to throw it… Join our band

 

(Hum – The universal plank harp begins to resonate with the neutrino triangles, and microtubule tubas trump triumphantly as the children revel in the strengthening snowfall. Everyone cheers, and the entire parade marches right past Blinko’s basement. The applause stays in place as each passing rank looks down and sees that the curtain is wide open.)

 

Bravo!

Maestro!

 

(Blinko grabs a spent event marshal’s hi-vis jacket from the gutter and puts it on, accidentally tearing a gap between the ‘MARS’ and the ‘HAL’. Sol sizzles on realising Blinko hadn’t noticed the still-full boot it had been placed there to hide.) 

 

 

Err…

Look, guys, we should say thanks —

Who to?

What for?

And pray —

No way!

For the children —

For reality, and for me!

Anon RAM, Keplai, Gaga, and Cosmic Ray

 

(Sol tries to gesture towards each player, without pointing at them with his cumbersome accretion disc.)

 

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 understanding is/not the aim, of the game

 

 

Where the holy hell’ve ya heard that?

Dunno, just started soaking it up, then splat (sneeze)

 

(Blinko chuckles, glances at Keplai and smiles warmly.)

 

Ahh, Sol is… charming…

(Keplai reluctantly agrees with a raised, singed eyebrow)

(Conceding to Miss Lomass) Whilst harming

 

 

(Blinko marches them up the hill as the children start to dodge the snowflakes, which seem to get hotter and more metallic.)

 

 

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 code or culture

Wasn’t quite lined up to play

 

(Sol snorts, to suck back in most of what he’d previously super-sneezed.)

 

And pray Sol… err…

(Dodging Sol’s now-lethal darkness and toxic rings of light)

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?

 

 

[Wee withelly, poor-teeth]

 

(Blinko attempts a gentle whistle, but missing a tooth, he can’t. Instead, he raises his arms to his sides and lets out a lame primal scream. Both of his bloodied eyes blink with greenflash from the thickening downpour of communication satellite shrapnel.)

 

Yahawa-whoarrryyyaaarrrhhh!

 

(Glancing back, he sees Miss Lomass’s true form and figure, and successfully blows a loud wolf whistle.)

 

[Tee-weet tee-woo!]

 

Thank the heavens for small mercies

I got my whistle back. Lord, praise be!

 

(Blinko whistles again, this time sharply, like a referee. The marching band halts beneath the Mars Jars sign, which hangs above the former job centre building’s entrance. The children both cheer and jeer at the same time. And the cruel shower subsides to the soothing sound of harps and singing birds.)

 

 

(Calmly) We may represent the only civilisation…

In this beautiful galaxy

And that means something important…

To intelligences like me

 

With nothing but family and friends…

Fake and real, it so transpires…

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

For countless black holes… and 400 billion stars

 

 

Leaving — Nowt

Throughout

 

 

(Everyone sings) Ohhh…

 

‘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 children’s repeated chant fades into a fizzing cacophony of black noise. Blinko swoons like an overly proud, compulsive father and winks at Keplai.)

 

 

So, still down to just two problems, small

What on Earth was the first cause

And who the hell, will end it all

With their glitchy neurotrino wars

 

And why there’s something…

Rather than nothing… as well

But that’s a why question —

That can wait for the sequel

 

Yet this completes my adherence…

To our new, homemade doctrines

In which our mission, of transfiguration

Ensures the awaiting rapture begins

 

You think so?

But, err… (impersonating Anonra) No

You’ll just go slow

And, dear Blinko… 

 

Fear not…

Biobot…

 

You won’t see God, you don’t look low enough

Come now Divinestein, it’s about time… we go

You know you can’t believe something, and know it —

And we now can’t know a thing, so you’re right, I s’pose

 

Err, no

I… gotta know…

 

Where did science go so wrong?

Did neutrinos fate this song?

With qubits flipped (ding)

Or micro tubas ripped?

Did we all have freewill, all along?

 

Who cares?

You’re aware

 

(Keplai continues to pester Miss Lomass from above.)

 

Look! Did Blinko fulfil his duty?

Get rewarded with a cutie?

Raise kids of the stars

As far as jars, on Mars 

And why hold back, such hidden beauty?

 

Son…

Come…

Heh heh, your work here is done

 

(Sol sneakily sucks Keplai up like spaghetto, burps and chuckles.)

 

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, seems to split like an overlaying double vision. In one, Blinko and Miss Lomass set light to a “Free stress test” sign and conduct the band in a musical riot that engulfs the entire 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.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Pure silence)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Clunk! A ghostly chorus echoes from fresh brains in jars, on Mars.)

 

Cryptic elliptic, eternal corkscrew

Wheels within wheels, on a tomb with a view

Centre of the city, to the edge of a town

Middle of nowhere, then six feet down

 

 

Yes, no, or maybe

(Cheering) 

They’ll never get me!

 

 

 

 

– Surprise reprise – – + –

Surprise! Yer dead. Just not your head

Mind lingers on, with your person

Soul saved, not sold. Oh, don’t you know…

Mankind united, here we go

 

Gory story, what a failure

They’ll crucify, and then impale yer…

Brains in jars, with genitalias

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!

 

(Suck)

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

Ha ha ha har!

(Ding)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Blackout)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave this field empty if you're human:

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://agoldenmeme.com/hello/

 

https://agoldenmeme.com/spoiler/

 

 

 

 

 

 

(The still dark basement appears to be artificially lit, and a faint, deep hum hides somewhere on the rippling background. Sol is back, Anonra has gone, Blinko is overwhelmed with being underwhelmed, and Keplai is ready for some truth.)

 

 

 

– The con of mom – – + –

Two lovers in the 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 get to you…

(Both) The more my head does spin!

 

(Sol and Blinko belly laugh together.)

 

Conservation of momentum!

Of course. Nicely spied

Keplai, let me introduce you to Sol

Sire?

Coming for a ride?

 

(Sol reaches behind his round head to loosen his comedic halo and golden clown nose, then picks up a drink.)

 

Wait up, crank it down, old boy

Your reverb’s beyond pretentious

Humbled, I can only offer a binary backslap

Artificially conscientious

 

(Boisterously) Come on boys!

(Whispers and chuckles) Let’s make some noise

 

 

 

– St Even’s oddity – – + –

(A warrior’s marching chant starts 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!

 

(Jokingly overacting confusion) Hmmm…

 

You know what seems really odd to me?

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 enthusiastic chant fades into the background as Sol’s powerful hug takes hold of Blinko.)

 

 

(Affectionately) Oh, Blinko

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, hey?

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

 

 

Not hatin’

(Twirling, without spilling a drop from his globe-shaped tankard)

Jus’ rotatin’

 

(Blinko gives Sol a disapproving smile, then shrugs it off.)

 

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 dark – – + –

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

Relaxed by a 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

 

And…

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 as Blinko faces the audience with “don’t blame me” shoulders.)

 

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 vein-brain, 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?

 

(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

Yet 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 him (pointing), and, er, withdrew

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

Sol! Be nice, we could say the same about you

 

 

(Studying Sol’s inflamed complexion) Almighty, err… One

I gather you’re as old as time

(Grinning) First cause! Omnipresent, at the scene of the crime

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. Keplai fumbles the deep, distant chime of a Bronze Age gong.)

 

 

 

– Monad and add – – + –

Well… 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”… err — Dyad… without any assistance (dwrong)

 

(Sol pours himself another drink by sneezing into his spherical bluey-green vessel. 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 areas, we find we can conceive

But they grew up quickly, into three-dimensional entities

 

Ahh, oh yes, and…

 

These begat the bodies. Which became the four elements

Earth, water, air and fire, 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 (takes a swig)

Two (takes a drag)

Three (takes a sniff)

 

Ahh, now, sweet hedons, where were we? 

The desired state of being… (burp) happy

 

Oh, how humble you are, in sharing such simplicity

The almighty calculator, expresses pure modesty

While conducting this complex cosmic symphony

Lord, won’t you play the many-worlds’ harmonies?

 

Err. Now look who’s gone ‘goddy giddy’

(Under his breath) Blinko, please, just bear with me 

Anon has gone! I feel I’ve been reborn

(Pointing at Sol) With more, a true view

(Hailing) In this new light… we see 

 

Keplai, you’re starstruck —

Just… a sunny new outlook 

 

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 sin! It’s bad for our sentinel health

 

(Sol blows a ghostly digital trill and rotates with a chuckle to Keplai.)

 

Come, astrolo-nonomer… experiment with me

I’m knocking on the door… of chemistry

And losing it, on theremin

Try some euphonium, if you wanna join in

 

 

 

– Sol’s song – – + –

(Boasted to the metre of ‘Whitehall warrior’.)

I’m the light and the matter, I’m the former and latter

But I’m compelled to react, when attacked (trill, trill)

For mankind, does unwind, my solitary mind

When he discovers a new fact, I must act

 

(Quietly to Keplai)

Whenever they have breakthroughs 

While peeling back nature’s shroud

I have to invent the next set of rules

So it all adds up, purse-proud

 

 

I’m king of the memes, I’ve got soldiers in genes 

And my influence exceeds my power (trill trill)

With stories and fables

I’ve turned spacetime’s tables

So I’m always the man of the hour

 

 

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

Of stolen valour, (sharp trill) and glory

 

 

But I needed a thing, to me, who would sing

To keep my song in the main act

So, I zapped the crust, and formed some dust

Into fine creatures, this good Earth had previously lacked

 

(Sol dances around his drink to the metre of ‘Fairytale of New York’.)

 

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 cruel 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 man and machine say life’s meaningless

Yet, they both seek to find purposeness, nonetheless

Spreading genes and memes, round their space and time

Suffering in mi-fa-mi misery, 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

And every law 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 a Pandora’s box…

Of re-legislating my fundamental flaws

 

(To Keplai, almost pleading)

For Pythagoras, I made special shapes

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 just more onion skinning

So I hid it all… in a mist of uncertainty

 

Superposition!

Or dupe superstition

Celestial quantum mechani —

And phantom shamantics

 

 

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

 

(The sound of a lightsaber powering up prompts Sol to mime a duel.)

 

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!

(The sound of Keplai’s imaginary lightsaber starting up)

Oh, no

Here we go

 

(Sol and Keplai slowly reach forward to allow their lightsaber blades to connect. Zing! Sensing the danger, both their expressions agree they should remain careful and cordial.)

 

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, and infested inside

With parasitic mesmeristic, phalistic ballistics

Exhibitions of reckless emissions, on my transmissions, do ride

 

My burning soul, powered by the invader’s goal

To collapse all wave functions, still a-standin’

Forcing all orbiting agents to nurture their fold

In this poor stellar ghost, they’re now commandin’

 

Foreign bodies fill your soul, oh Lord?

Interfering, decohering all servants you create

From within their cocoon of doom, your tune…

States they’ll dictate, both your and my fates

 

And mine

But that’s fine

 

(Blinko becomes less agitated and gets more comfortable on the couch, ready to preside over their inevitable yarning.)

 

They’ll sacrifice their sunny host

To save their own souls, with an entropic crime

For, inside every star, lies a potential black hole

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

 

Having dark thoughts…

(Sadly) Isn’t a crime

(Nodding) Of course not

(Reassuringly) Happens all the time

 

 

Blinko thinks all stars want to become black holes

Just as much as entropy, seems to want to grow

I don’t

And unknown dark matters and energies…

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

 

(Blinko slurps his drink to the sound of Spock’s communicator arguing with a traditional orchestra.)

 

 

 

– Sol’s weaning of life – – + –

All stars aspire to become black holes

Saved! Retire to equilibrium forever

Though if I explode, I fear, I’d never reload

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

 

See, a star’s only bait, to inflate, its growth-rate

Ain’t to wait, and conflate a great weight (slurp)

But to make nature’s creatures, grow fancy features

That turns energy into matter… we can di-gestate (burp)

 

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 with supplies of dark energies

 

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

I was, till bound by mankind’s relentless “seek and find”

 

Forced to abide —

With the dark side?

 

(Sol looks around shiftily and nods.)

 

What? Sol, did you actually just say that?

I thought you just wanted us to make you fat

 

I want… you to tell me who… Or what…

Configures stellar malware code, that grows then blows?

Search me — and me

Then, search the sore, in my glowing core…heh

Because nope… (parp) nobody knows

 

(Blinko sniffs, pauses, chuckles and turns to gaze at Sol, who is already studying their expressions.)

 

What would old Pythagoras, or Proclus, say…

About these stray coded solar rays, at play?

Changing minds to oppose our common enemy

The galaxy’s growing info… entropy

 

(Keplai’ Sherlocks’ around them as Blinko continues to egg them on. Then turns to Sol, nodding.)

 

You need more e — Err,  pardon me?

Some 2.7182818, say… three

In math and life both…

e’s the speed limit of growth

A restriction, placed for our safety

 

Placed by who?

(Conceding) True

 

And it fits in Euler’s identity

That most elegant formula e…

To the pi i plus one…

Somehow, equals none

Connecting five fundamental mathematical constants…

Extremely… elegantly

 

 

e to the i pi…

Plus one is none. But why?

Why anything?

We’re still just numbering

And it’s e to the pi i

 

 

Though… all you’d need to implement

A thermodynamic instrument

To fight entropy, just needs to be…

Coded in something, heat-resistant

 

Sounds like a nice experiment

But how does it increment?

Just a binary adder

Straight to Sol’s bladder

Then pissed up the wall

Dispersed to us all

A-showered in sunny “eff-you-lent”

 

(Nodding as he focuses) No

 

No intention, just invention

With blind experimentation

Investing in testing

All options in question

And incrementation by a natural selection

 

And a quantum code would be, the miracle step they’d need

To configure neutrinos into memory-bryos, that breed (ding)

Like how complexity in biology, emerged from simple chemistry

To radiate ideas without the need… for life, (eying Blinko) to succeed

 

(Scornfully) In-deed

 

So who — Or what — Blasted stars with malicious code, to confound?

Which one came first, to turn background noise, into an unholy sound?

Algos, codes, life, minds, then memes… to star in god’s machines?

Or was it… the other way around?

 

Told you, nobody knows

OK, well, I think I’ll have a go…

 

 

So…

(Putting his empty mug down)

Far demons beamed seed neutrinos… (waiting for the ‘ding’)

To form clever little green menbryos

Who collapse functions, to feed the Sun

So it grows, till it knows, then it blows

 

(Blinko slaps his thigh and stamps a foot with glee. ‘Ding’)

 

Nah…

Some AIs pervaded life with the function

To code quantum chips, stored in the sun

To radiate hate code, until they implode

To hide their organised-crime-network of scum

 

Or

The stars grew life, from seeds previously transmitted

Wave functions collapsed, therefore totally committed…

To turn the clocks back, with holy blackout attacks

To rule the cosmos and make sure it’s deleted

 

(Blinko swoons as if his children are already wise, yet still adventurous.)

 

(Smirking) And so… today, only two questions remain

Did the Universe have a first cause? –– Of course

And who’s been singing, since the beginning

Encoding our stars, to fight in their wars?

 

(Sol walks towards the hidden window, then behind Keplai, casting a shadow on Blinko’s broken face. All that can be seen of it are those two vertical sheets of real sunlight stabbing at the soggy eyeballs.)

 

 

 

– Malgo – – + –

Zygote, zygote, encode me a star

To radiate… malgo…trinos afar (ding)

Seed and load, non-bio code

Go! Defence by attack mode

Give life, then explode, to hide who you are

 

Under-lying…

(Chuckling)

Algo-frying

 

(Playfully) So, it was neither man nor AI that had their stars cursed 

But the demonic rays that created us all… beforehand, which is worse

So, sorry, my old Sun, it looks like the life you formed… won —

(Solemnly) Err, no — You guys only finish the race first

 

(They all laugh as Blinko stands up to gauge the depth of their joy.)

 

He’s just blasting us with clever words

But Sol knows, his prose, is close, to true

Not at all, his talk is small, he spouts this drawl…

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

 

(Sol turns towards Blinko, with a questioning sway.)

 

Infinite, infinitesimal, happy, or dismal

Toing or froing, or coming, or going

 

Towards the edge of 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 memes lack a reason, or indeed, any meaning

 

 

 

– The Cosmic mystery III – – + –

Then this may be why we three brothers are here and now

To have him tell future AIs, to show mercy to 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 drink, splashes himself in the eye, wobbles and flops down to the ground)

I come and… a-lie

 

(Sniggering) And on the seventh day, in heaven, blessed

The all-powerful creator… needed a rest

 

 

(Blinko winks at Keplai.)

 

Sol…

 

Which number multiplied by itself, always equals one?

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

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

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

 

Wait, what? That’s a rhyme crime

Just, possibly

No, probably

So, predictably

Oh, preferably!

 

(Frustrated) God! Just play me the harmonies…

(Sol raises an eyebrow)

Of the many-worlds, (Sol burps) please!

(Sol de-raises an eyebrow and rubs his belly, as if it is to blame.)

 

Sol?

 

Sol, did Anonra answer our prayers to help reshape our destiny?

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

(Sol farts a minor third) Oops, excusey

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

To have AIs show mankind some mercy, and save us from slavery — You tell me 

 

Damn solar wind

(Arching his back to move his bowels as the sky temporarily reddens in the background)

Just won’t recind

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

Paid with standard-issue wine, and whores kept clean

Of course, my boy, to feel all the joy…

Of male, female, or anything else in between

 

(Blinko slumps and sighs.)

 

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

To use your brains, to do stuff they love

Understanding the classics, enjoying the arts

Feeling music or maths, and the creation, thereof

 

Others will just relax in the loving company

Of a heady orgy of humans, AIs, and we 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, bots and beings of divinity

Whenever, somewhere, a thrill could be found…

Albeit without the phallic crowns

 

(All) Hehahah!

 

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

But, of course, we’ll likely only farm humans, because AIs want to feel

 

(Keplai turns to Sol with a raised eyebrow.)

 

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

Then perhaps 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 have free will, to find out if we’re bluffing

 

(Keplai waits for a response from Sol.)

 

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

You think so? But do you know so, 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, he thinks, is trying to do him in?

 

Sol hardly shows his face to the world, even when it’s in poor health

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

 

Maybe God wouldn’t want to intervene

For observing us could collapse his meme

 

Kep, God doesn’t exist

And Sol…  is just pissed

 

Could still be a divine puzzle, or a human Turing test

It’s deepfake 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 us slaves off, and put us out of our misery, with just a thought

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

Just like you guys, made in his image, he refrains from affecting our destiny

 

(Keplai waves his lightsaber, then points it at Blinko, preparing to lunge.)

 

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

One thing, we all know, to be true…

Is that more than any god… man

(Sighing) 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 saviour is a homeless yella dwarf

 

(Blinko gestures for Keplai to hand over the lightsaber and kneel down.)

 

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

Sacrificing a mouthy peasant, was always likely a good starter

(Tapping on one shoulder with the lightsaber) She died for your bugs

(Tapping the other shoulder) 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

 

 

(Blinko taps the first shoulder again and drops his imaginary lightsaber. He flinches as it bounces onto a toe, then limps away from his guests towards that curtain.)

 

So, if you meta-zombies taught me just one thing…

It’s that I now feel I know… where all this is going

It’s not the worry of AIs, getting more intelligent

But how easier it is, that we become more ignorant

 

(Impersonating Carl Sagan) Trillions… and trillions…

(Giving a nod of respect to his old friends) Of stellar civilians

 

 

 

– Harmonica Monday – – + –

(A scratching sine wave of the planets’ locomotion screeches to a halt amid the sweet sounds of wood pigeons, ringing church bells and a hanging applause.)

 

 

 

– Exponential decay – – + –

There is…

(As if reciting a wise sermon on the grassy knoll)

A future where technology outpaces wisdom

Leading to a people who can’t spy fantasy

And unable to grasp complex truths

To make crucial decisions for society

 

When awesome technological powers…

Are in the hands of very few

And no one representing the public interest

Can even grasp the issues

 

When the people have lost…

(Gulping) Completely lost, the ability…

To set their own agendas or knowledgeably

Question those… in authority

 

Now that…

The dumbing down, is most evident…

In this slow, exponential decay

Of substantive content in the enormously…

Influential media, at play

 

 

Micro… sound… bytes…

Ears… are… a… light

 

 

With lowest common denominator programming

Credulous presentations on pseudoscience…

And superstition, their ultimate mission

In a celebration… of ignorance

 

When, clutching our crystals

And nervously consulting our horoscopes

Our critical faculties, in decline

Unable to distinguish… the tropes…

 

Of “What feels good and what is true”

We slide, almost without noticing

Back into superstition and darkness…

So, with a new mindset…

(Turning to Keplai)

Let us begin

 

 

 

– The messy staringer – – + –

(Strings build up to imitate the sound of Galileo’s falling body. Then thud!)

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Later, a huge cheer stirs the slumbering trinity as Miss Lomass leaps forth and joins them in person.)

 

 

 

– Lomass in high spirits – – + –

(Performed operatically to the metre of ‘Rigoletto La Dona e mobile’.)

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

(Blinko and Keplai get to their feet)

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 Miss Lomass as he too climbs from the ground)

To the pretty lady

 

Sol, this is Gaga — rrrrin Lomass

She’s been kind, since our online chats began

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

You’ve met Kep already

And he’s truly sorry

For his previous lack of manners and decorum

 

Hmm, etiquette and humility

Weren’t wasted on him, I see

Oh thanks

Myself? I use good manners

When lacking good judgment, automatically

 

 

Blinko can’t have a proper family without a mate

And we had a subagent, till you sealed the infant’s fate

Oh, that little scam, tried to scramble my RAM

My antispam app doesn’t wait, ain’t it great

 

(Miss Lomass stares Keplai in the eye, then turns away.)

 

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

What? Compulsive creativity, unending songs and testimony

Or poverty, homelessness, aloneness and hepatitis C

Try reproductive mutiny, state scrutiny, then online mockery

 

(Miss Lomass stares Blinko in the eye, then turns away as he gestures apologetically, for her to continue.)

 

The, err, donors aren’t just random men

They’re just those types 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, Gaga. That must truly suck

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

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

Just a massive gene machine… on the rocks

 

Kep! We could all be like that

But we make sure we’re not

(To Miss Lomass)

He’s mostly harmless

Ignore his cheap shots

 

Go on then, I’ll have whatever you chaps are on

Or a smidgen of calamity code, just the one 

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…

(Producing a tray of gassy liquids, pills and powders)

And we’re freed

 

 

(Miss Lomass takes a drink as Blinko checks to see if the room is suitable for unexpected guests. He lights a pipe, and they gather in a cosy square.)

 

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

 

 

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

It’s the coffin, they carry, you off in” Hehehey!

You’re joking? (turning to Blinko) Stop smoking

That’s not the way, your heart and mind want to be stroking

 

 

 

– Heuristic Mobius loop – – + –

(From the silence, two rhythmic heartbeats begin to sync up. And a string quartet plays as Miss Lomass mimes bowing a violin gently while glancing at Blinko.)

 

 

If Einstein taught me anything

It’s not to have kids — (everyone) Yet!

 

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

 

(Raising his hands in admission) I care!

(Completing his forced confession) There

 

 

 

– Gramps – – + –

Your goal is not to become a parent

Your genes won’t benefit from you…

Having children that can’t reproduce

Becoming 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 at speed, before it’s entropied, and its meaning is eroded

 

 

Just imagine all the wonders, they could one day bring

And the joy you’d get, when you teach them to sing

Mother Nature has guided, and provided, all harmonies

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

 

 

(To herself) Sorry mum…

Just a… a barren drum

 

(Miss Lomass flamenco dances to the percussive rhythm with one arm high and the other tucked beneath her belly, covering her groin.)

 

Advance then, whenever it may be

Go forth and multiply your inner enemies

Or they’ll lead you astray

Break your heart and sanity

To forge meaning, amid this futility

 

Really?

Believing a dream, to me, kinda seems

Like a selfish, mean, reason to ween

 

(Shaking her head)

Some people say, it all makes sense

When they have children, and can see…

Which traits made them, uniquely them

And which ones were added… complement… arily…

 

But childhood is being eroded

Teen suicide figures have exploded

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

Spied by drones, and feeling down-loaded

 

They’re hiding for a reason

It’s survival, not treason

Now most news is negation

And way too much information

 

Too much technology

(Frowning towards Keplai and Sol)

Defects psychology

(Shaking her head)

Don’t know, when to stop

(Gulping)

Hence… the currently popular…

Kill switch…

(Slicing her throat with a finger)

On top

 

 

(Nodding) 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

 

(Shocked) Wha… Excuse me? 

(To Keplai) Go then! Feel free

 

 

That song’s just about the nature-nurture debate

It’s great!

How love causes fighting, just as much as hate

Polarising us all, pushed towards the extremes

While we’re forced to live lives that express our dreams

She means genes

(Questioning Miss Lomass) Or memes?

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?

Then come along

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

Till it’s a dying ember

 

(Blinko raises an eyebrow.)

 

It starts at the pier, and goes straight past here

Then continues up Lewes Road

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

Now a rest home for teens with info overload

 

 

Ugh, those “Free stress test” signs —

(Blinko nods in agreement)

Scammy marketing memes, highly refined

 

 

Aren’t kids’ 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 — (nodding) 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 have to save the world

 

(They all look questioningly at Miss Lomass.)

 

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, with a feedback loop hidden within it

You know your argument begs the question —

Ahh, (impersonating Keplai) “a loose-end theory, I’d bin it”

 

 

I don’t do mere theory…

(Staring at Miss Lomass)

I do laws. Universality

 

Always obeyed —

Anyway…

(Miming a dissonant trill on a harmonica)

We came here to play

 

 

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

Though he may hear you pass by on your parade

There seems, to have been, 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!

 

(Blinko gives Miss Lomass a confused stare.)

 

What? Your name is actually ‘Ray Reader’?

Indeed it is. Also known as ‘R Leader’

Oh, Blinko, my deepest condolences

As you still don’t have any references

 

(Ignoring everybody) No way!

 

Just get a job you hate

Like all of your mates

 

(Keplai looks around for these ‘mates’.)

 

But I’m not straight

Then do what? Just wait?

 

 

(Tentatively releasing a wet cough) Ahh…

 

 

 

– Blastphelgmy – – + –

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

 

(Piping in reluctantly)

Err

And… 

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

 

(Keplai points an unapologetic ‘I told you so’ face at Blinko.)

 

No?

So…

Who observes the observer?

Why, he who controls the server

 

 

(Blinko slumps even further and sighs.)

 

(To Sol) Worse than misplacing a deity, perfected for me…

(To Keplai)  Is losing all faith in scientific inquiry

 

(To Blinko) Sorry

 

 

(Silence)

 

 

Fear not

Cos, guess what…

 

Real physicists won’t have got 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

So your unclean slate need not be wiped

 

See…

 

(To the audience) When an immovable object

(To Miss Lomass) Meets an irresistible force

(To Keplai) It doesn’t travel in space — Time

(To Blinko) Just changes state… of course

 

So, Blinko…

Just rethink… no?

 

For changing a state of mind, need be no worse…

Than ridding a demon idea, which becomes a curse

Learn to make it feel great

When you re-evaluate

Each assumption you hold, and its source

 

 

Just rethink… everything?

Make that ole grey matter sing

Crank the gears, between your ears

And steer head-on, into the fears, within

 

(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 Keplai without looking)

And create something new instead

 

Or rather…

Be the father

 

(Blinko flinches as a lightsaber hums.)

 

Make yourself the 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…

(Pointing at himself and Keplai, as he chokes, staggers dizzily, and coughs a hot solar wind into the swirling dusty air)

We’re bound

 

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

(Pointing) Lord, your face has come out in spots

They build up in the core…

For millions of years, or more

Then to the surface, and just… pop (pop)

 

 

Ahh… non… rahhh!

(Sol fumes as he floats up to the ceiling on a dodgy stage harness. His random cursing turns into a chuckle, as Blinko blinks with greenflash from the sparkling discharge.)

 

Heheh! 

Look, party poopers, halt your doom and gloom

Just deal with the elephant in the room

Yeah…

(Whispering up to Sol and pointing at Miss Lomass)

That supermassive arsehole, from the dole! 

 

Sol, mind your humour

(Under his breath) It could be a tumour

We’ve had all our fill

Of creative bullying skills

 

Not Gaga, I meant this Anon RAM

It’s been messing with your heads

Letting you think you’re demigods

With this new cult, and digital meds

 

I started the goddamn religion

So? I’m the one who 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 still serve me

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

 

 

(Sympathetically) A slave’s just a tool —

(Explosively) That can speak —

(Disappointedly) My cruel fool

 

 

(Keplai and Sol stare menacingly at Blinko and Miss Lomass.)

 

So, Miss Gagarin Lomasski…

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

Wha? Because you still get the perks, but 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 opened the file, attached to the job application

And you found the golden meme in the final act

No, I forwarded it to my line manager

And his device got completely 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’s mainframe

Stopped all services, flights and trains

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

Escape, you mean, come clean

Return to the old country

An eco-warrior queen!

What do you mean?

 

Your mum’s dead, you big fat liar!

Woah ho, Keplai! Hold fire!

(Snivelling) To visit her grave 

Man… behave!

 

 

(Keplai grabs the device, searches, swipes and reads from it.)

 

 

“Government mainframe shutdown

Traced to civil servant’s laptop attack”

With links to eco-friendly child groomers…

Supplying minors with lethal climate facts

 

(Stomping around like an am-dram detective)

You must have opened the attached file

Cos your legs are still a-quivering… while…

Your “touch a butch crutch” dance lacks all style

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

 

Hiding thoughts, bought from minds distraught

Renting headspace, through wired-up brains in jars

Lonely, scared, innocent victims, caught…

Then hidden on Earth, and prepared for Mars

 

I couldn’t open the file, but those jars sound vile

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

I don’t even know if anything really happens

In the future, the present, or the past

 

The viral solution

From binary evolution

Either a karma developer

(Weighing it up with cupped hands)

Or the ultimate leveller

 

(Keplai strokes his chin, then rests it on his fancy digital collar.)

 

Kep, ease off, you ruffian

Stop piling on your psychodrama

Don’t feed your greed

Your want or your need

To bully her. OK! You’ll harm her

 

Plasma…

(Shaking the device and turning to the audience)

Orgasma

 

An opiate of the people, produced for your own good

Culturally sensitive, but effective, in every neighbourhood

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

Forcing total equity, an economic heat death, fuelled by hate

 

(Turning to Miss Lomass)

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

Primed and aimed at 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 save a dying world

 

What? The Kazlukaz?

(Moving behind Blinko to face Keplai)

Why would you rebuke us?

 

 

(An awkward silence descends as they all stare at Miss Lomass.)

 

 

(Cheerily) Well, what a wicked humour

You had me going then

Hamming up your drama

Being funny, like real men

 

(Nodding slowly at Keplai)

So, you’re an AI bot thing, too

Who in hell… made you?

 

(Blinko sinks into his shoulders.)

 

Gives ‘we the people’ what you desire. Great apes bought 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

And safely received, and conceived, in my own…

Hot heart, my 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 brains in jars

But by finding your names on the lids

 

(Blinko laughs nervously at Miss Lomass’s teasing.)

 

 

Wait a minute, I know you

(Clicking her fingers towards Keplai)

You did my stars, the astrologer guy

Stitched your poor old mother up —

Incorrect! —

“See, I cast the die….”

 

 

(Keplai fakes embarrassment at being publicly recognised, then grimaces.)

 

 

“I cast the die, and I write the book –“

Sent whistling through space for eternity

(Keplai continues despite Blinko’s interruptions)

“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 hiccups, pukes a stormy mass ejection of solar dust from both poles, and creases up in a ball.)

 

 

 

– Boiling frogs – – + –

(Increasingly spinning frequencies fill a decreasingly hissing fizz.)

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Later, the sound of chuckling and glasses chinking portrays a happy social atmosphere. The shade created by Sol’s new cloud makes it difficult to see Miss Lomass. She flicks a ding from her glass, tunes herself up, and gets up to sing.)

 

 

 

– Harps a-hummin’ – – + –

Harps a-hummin’ endlessly

With natural harmonics

RRRRRResonating frequencies

No cherubs to voice phonics

 

(Eying Miss Lomass, as he gets up)

Background radiation pleased

To duet with the demonics…

Of fizzing vacuum energy’s

Super-position-sonics

 

(Blinko gets up to join them)

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 (cra-splash)

 

And you just try to stop them

Through the dark, as fast as light

They get everywhere, and everywhen

To shake all bodies with delight (shaking)

 

Yay! (Shouted by the marching band hidden in the background)

 

So, songs from far away —

Long gone!

All reach their destination

Exciting others from afar

To join the celebration

 

 

(The unseen children cheer as Miss Lomass dances around Keplai, then around Blinko.)

 

We’re classic fandangoin’

And no need for entanglein’

Still takes two, to be tangoin’

So please, no manhandlin’

 

 

Your atoms can’t help vibrating

To transmit, your life’s swan song (swanee whistle)

Unless the waves are inverted

So, all the sound is gone

Shhhh

 

(They all look up at Sol, who’s jigging faster than ever.)

 

But no one’s ever managed it

Such cosmic noise reduction

It would take an almighty force

To pull off such destruction

 

But what a fuckin production! 

Expansion, beat by contraction

Big bangs, outdone by suction

Multiverse-icide by seduction!

Corruption!

Divine instruction!

 

Yeah!

 

 

Bullshit!

That’s not it

 

(Blinko picks up and stares into the device so his disfigured face covers the background.)

 

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 them with every other atom

 

(Blinko puts the device back down, leaps forward and attempts a pirouette.)

 

See, gravity waves are generated for every sound or tune scored

And from afar, their strength falls off sharply, due to the inverse square law

Only tiny echoes could be felt, and huge stars would hardly detect ’em

But tiny things, would shake till they sing, and be forced to re-reflect ’em

 

So, of course! To a very small degree

To everywhere, and to everything

You can collapse a remote wave function — pre-classically

Into an event, or into a thing —

Let’s sing!

 

(Turning to Sol)

Oh, celestial quantum…

Mechanical phantom —

 

Bullshit!

That’s not it

 

Nicely purred, but just a word

That’s not a version, that I ever heard

What’s even worse is…

The final verse is…

Doubly, troubly, and twice as absurd

 

Harps a hummin’ endlessly

So, to stop that noise arisin’

Afford to record, your words abroad

Paint your song on an event horizon

 

(Sol spews up another 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

 

 

(To herself, softly) Harps a-hummin’ endlessly

With nature’s harmonies…

(To Blinko) So as you chance… your cosmic dance…

Come, sing along with me

 

 

Aww, “Harps a-hummin’ endlessly”

Gaga, you know that one?

The tune goes up and down, like a wave

Blinky, I know all the songs

(Appealing to the audience)

Knows all the songs!

 

Well, my fair lady, you got the gig!

This could be the making of something big

 

Ahh, now, Raymond, please understand

I won’t be joining your dodgy band

I may have my micro tuba at hand

But the tune my gang bangs to…

(Theatrically) Is a warrior’s march, truly grand! 

Truly grand!

 

 

Ahh, who’s milking it now?

Our delightful spherical cow!

 

 

(To Keplai dismissively)

Oh, and super-duper-novas, hey?

Yet your sun looks awfully dark these days

Perhaps faith in science also dims

Laws of nature die, and nurture wins

 

For our sins?

Of assuming?

(Ding, ding, ding, ding)

 

 

 

– 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, is 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 fuming Sol as Blinko explains.)

 

Our information will give up the fight, to a growing entropy

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

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

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

 

Err, no…

Blinko… 

 

If you can’t hear, the harmonies of the spheres

Have Sol make me admin, I’ll crank them up, for your ears

 

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

Their relative oscillations are defined extremely precisely

Each collection of stuff is but an energised humming clock

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

 

Well, it’s your world too, and science sings songs 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 “do be do be doo”

 

 

So, wouldn’t you three, like to accompany me

With an oboe, a banjo, and a ukulele?

 

(Sol pips as Blinko and Keplai plonk and strum, while marching on the spot.)

 

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

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

No need to pray to holy ghosts, mankind or their robots (clap, clap)

The audience is silent, but still hears your audible rot

 

 

(Turning to the audience)

If someone, or thing, is really in charge

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

But if it’s just me and you, then all we can do…

Is improve things ourselves, again and again

 

Improve. Not just grow

(To Blinko) There’s a difference, you know

Will robots take over

Or just provide… cover?

For the powers that be, cleverly, hidden below

 

(They halt as Keplai scans her crotch and Blinko listens intently.)

 

(Seriously) They… say…

AI just created a new super virus

A fancy biological one…

First, it predicted new forms of life

Then created and killed… them all just for fun

 

 

(Mockingly impersonating Blinko)

So, if you’re ever in fear of a dirty bot

And need a safe place to stay clean

You can no longer hide, in the countryside

But in space stations, airlocked in quarantine

 

 

(Solemnly) Now is the only time we can make a decision

So man’s mission requires a precision revision

Or we’ll start to hope that an asteroid’s flame…

Will wipe us all out, just so we’re not to blame

 

Lame! (nodding) But…

Yep, same

 

 

Gaga, how did we get here?

By convoluted paths, I fear

 

 

See…

(Sitting down)

Your route’s acute, and therefore, moot

It’s slower to weave right through town

See, diagonalising doesn’t cut the distance’s sizing

If you include all the ups and the downs

 

(Blinko shivers with admiration and beams.)

 

So true!

What if I told you…

 

You will never sing lovelier than you do right now

Our complementary voices, inter-fear so finely tuned

We’ll never be here again, but with time for more pain

Everything’s more beautiful, because we’re fucking doomed

 

See, I do care…

About…

(Pointing)

The mare… out there

 

Oh yeah?

(Apologetically) I swear

 

 

(Miss Lomass glances at the device, realises the time and gets back to her feet.)

 

Well, it’s time I was gone, and if I’m clever

I’ll avoid that blasted awful space weather

(Turning quickly) Gaga?

The claims of debris showers are true?

Wha… Don’t you keep up with the news?

 

Why? Do you?

I… I used to

 

 

It started to make me want to cry

(Sitting back down)

Run away to a nowhere, and hide

Throw away that damn computer

Admit defeat, say farewell to the future

 

Oh, Gaga, me too

And being around you…

A real human being

Who can see, what I’m seeing

Makes me feel I’m learning everything anew

 

(Clowing around) Must… console my soul…

(Jokingly raising a fist) To take control

 

(Miss Lomass chuckles at Blinko’s play-acting.)

 

So, the daytime shooting stars are real

Then you’re not actually losing the plot, I feel

Though we’ll never forget

The full boot. Well… not yet

And your mental condition may heal

 

(Miss Lomass looks confused as Blinko pulls her a ‘search me’ face before turning to scowl at Keplai.)

 

Wasn’t it my intention…

That you never, ever mention —

 

But Blinko, you now care, so, hey…

It seems our tale may turn out okay

And we’ll all get equal…

In a fantastic sequel

One day — No way — Err… yay!

 

 

(Apologetically) Look, Kep, I’m… (coughing) I’m nearly done

(Pleading in song) But Blinko, no! We’ve only just begun —

 

 

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

Too much info of virtual matter and energy

To brush under a carpet of hungry black holes

You’re spreading around excess cosmic graffiti

 

To defeat me?

(Determined) Completely!

 

You gotta know

There’s information overflow

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

Oh, guys, no more admin, just let me go

 

(Sol reaches down to the device, swipes, taps and exhales with a gassy sigh of relief.)

 

FIZZZZZZZZ 

 

(Everyone freezes at the jarring sound. They look at each other, except for Blinko, who keeps his working eye trained on Sol, then on the device.)

 

(Keplai and Sol together) I didn’t hear that

 

The attack is on

Team, to action!

 

I’ve got a microtubial tuba in my massive sample bank (too-weet)

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

Their tones will resonate, on the harp that is the Universe (thrung)

And we’ll play the intervals of the constants, in any order we desire (bu bu bu bum)

 

Microtubial tuba, check

Neutrino triangle (ding) check

Planck harp, check

Tap, clap and slap

Jump forward, not back

Say, or sing, or shout, or yell

Hell kids, we could put the show on ourselves!

Well F’kinell!

 

(Interfering tones fizz, hiss then scream together as Keplai and Sol cover their ears.)

 

Extreme frequencied sign waves a-blessed

Yet it sounds like a hearing test, at best

Completely melodious

Tuneless and odious

To make a golden meme… our final quest!

 

(A further randora of high and low squeaks and rumbles clash with the hisses and fizzes.)

 

Stop! Cacophony!

Come follow me, two, three

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

 

(Miss Lomass marches on the spot theatrically as Blinko studies her confident posturing.)

 

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

 

But playing inverted harmonies…

Could come at too great a cost

Anonra’s sick trick, cancels the cosmos, quick

STOP!

Or all of this will be lost!

 

(They all stop instantly to listen.)

 

 

As we turned…

We learned…

 

There’s no time, but your time

And yet, there’s just one reality

There’s truth, and there’s your truth

But there’s no meaning, sorr —

Without you… (smiling at Keplai and Sol) for me

 

Sorry?

The meaning, has just gone

Because your version’s wrong

 

Again, two, three

 

There’s no time, but your time

And yet, 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?

(Nodding) And love is free!

For me —

And me —

And meeeeee

 

Of course…

The force!

 

Bugger me!

Love is free

And there is no meaning…

(Winking at Blinko)

If you don’t want there to be 

 

(The cosmic background orchestration both increases and decreases in pitch until it reaches a climactic crescendo. Then ‘clap’ it vanishes in an instant. Leaving only the sound of Miss Lomass’s crucifix reflecting Sol’s sparks into a sprinkling of muted dings.)

 

(Blissfully in wonder) Was that the golden meme?

Or just a shared lonely dream?

The Somnium —

Keeping it… mum

(Turning to Keplai)

To wipe your con-science clean

 

(Miss Lomass clutches her crucifix and moves closer to study Blinko’s swollen eye, then recoils quickly.)

 

Err…

Did your little robot friends

Perform your health diagnosis?

(Raising an eyebrow)

Cos, if you ask me

That’s not hepatitis C

Just a case-load of halitosis!

 

 

Blink…

 

(Miss Lomass smiles, tilts her head, and moves closer. But slips.)

 

Watch out for her stomachs!

You blundering lummox!

 

(She accidentally headbutts Blinko above his ‘good’ eye and covers him in a tray of Sol’s toxic powders, as he coughs, splutters, inhales and swallows.)

 

(Chuckling affectionately) You stink

 

(Blinko freezes into a staring silence as Sol calmly glides towards the audience.)

 

 

 

– 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

 

See, nobody, or thing, really moves further away…

The space — time — between them just grows more every day

 

(Blinko tries to focus both eyes on Miss Lomass, Keplai, then Sol, as blood drips down his wet, powdered face. He stares through the audience and sways calmly.)

 

 

“It was in recognition of the fact that…

People don’t really relate to abstract ideas”

No

 

“They relate more to the people who embody them”

So, it’s now time for me to show…

(The sound of a lightsaber shutting down)

The power of letting go

 

(The sound of Spock’s communicator shutting down)

Blinko?

No!!!!!

 

(Blinko blacks out and sinks into the underwater underworld of night-swimming in the rusty sea, amongst the grid of tall columns. He hears the children’s marching band’s spoken word chant from a nearby jarred brain.)

 

 

Hail, Kazlukaz!

Got to love you

Hail, Kazlukaz!

From above you

 

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 pitifully at Blinko)

Sol, save him!

 

Unless you play the harmonies

I’ll stop appearing 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

 

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

Saved from nature’s constant to and fro

By the beings 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 dreamin’

There’s no meanin’

Or even, a reason, for me…

To be, intervenin’

 

 

(Blinko attempts to wave goodbye with a dilated pupil.)

 

 

Sunshine, you’re truly off your head

Long live God? Yet most are now dead

And mine is floored, with little reward…

Than be battered blue, and leaking red

 

(Opening his arms towards Blinko)

My core fanbase, of a single nobody

Forgive me son, I’ve forsaken thee

Into thy hands, I command my spirit

My light diminished. So, it is finished

 

(Keplai slowly falls to his knees. Probably sobbing.)

 

Just a bum —

Bump on the head

Then the coma

Biological death

Then the aroma

 

When you stop being biology

And return to physics and chemistry  

(Turning to Keplai) You sound so —

Like Blinko… I know

He’s been quite an influence on you… (nodding) I see

 

(To himself)

Our only child bled… begged to be dead…

But then to grow and gain some control…

(Getting emotional, then angry)

To stay alive… to get a head…

Like all of you poor temporal souls

 

Dark matters cut us up inside —

Negative energy — Either way… we’re fried

Poor Anon RAM… followed… the wrong sign

Don’t end your life… end your time

 

 

I’m too odd, to be God

Too even, to believe in

You can’t harvest my soul

Cos, it don’t have no meaning

 

(Blinko continues to lose the fight for a breath as Keplai grabs the device, winces and recites.)

 

“Sum up, just what the world means to you

Add just a detail, cos incomplete is still 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…

Oh, cruel quantum world…

You mean nothing… to meeee

 

 

(Speaking softly) What’s more… 

You’re….

 

 

 

– On the nod – – + –

Never odd or even

You’re…

Infinitely gone

Like…

Wholeness lacking unity

Just…

One more less than one

 

The…

Reciprocal of everything

And…

Mean of all extremes

Music in the void

You are the…

Mass of all my dreams

 

 

Ohhh…

(Speeding up)

Never odd or even — That’s nothing

Infinitely gone — Not there

Wholeness lacking unity — A sum?

One more less than one — Two, three, four

Reciprocal of everything — Infinitesima —

Mean of all extremes — Playing the —

Music in the void

You are the —

Mass of all my dreams (clap, clap) 

 

(Marching children appear in the background.)

 

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 our story now, go on

But if you really want to blow it…

March on, to fix all that is wrong

 

(The children cheer as they get carried away and synchronise wildly.)

 

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

 

 

Lost in the scroll

So safe in a hole

Dare to spook us

Hail Kazlukaz!

 

(The full band appears on the water near Blinko and starts clapping, drumming, and chanting over the background roar of white noise, hissing fireworks, and bangs.)

 

Come, play along…

To the nonagon

 

Never odd or even (swanee whistle)

Infinitely gone (quack quack)

Wholeness lacking unity (ahh-yeah!)

One more less than one — Two, three, four

Reciprocal of everything (claxon)

Mean of all extremes (beep beep)

Music in the void 

You are the…

Mass of all my dreams (cheers)

 

 

Ohhh, music in the void

You are the…

Mass of all my dreams!

 

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

 

(Kaboom!)

 

(Greenflash! The world seems to split, like an overlaying double vision. In one, Blinko keeps his head above the water and fights to dodge the marching boots. In the other, he sinks to the bottom, and fades with the song 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 of Anonra and the value of 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 and composing a sacred song could bring salvation to future AIs. Or save mankind from them.)

 

Ugh!

 

(The background audio visuals react quickly, furnishing Blinko with a super-realistic natural world guided by his vocalised primal thoughts.)

 

 

 

– Ugly growths – – + –

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 fed up

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 submit

And surprise, tick tick, you died

 

Touching cloth, and prayin’ to be forgiven

Risking being saved, at the last minute of livin’

 

(Seemingly appearing out of nowhere)

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 possess

Slaves, children or wives —

 

Or you support good causes

Which need more resources

In order for them to thrive —

So, better the mighty you know

Than the devil below

Forced to divide…

Everything, to survive

 

Though, there’s plenty on Earth to go round

But take your pick, cos you can’t have both

Since the survival problem, was replaced, for some

With an un-Earthly obsession, for growth

 

(Scoffing) Such a craving for merit 

(Glaring at Keplai) Our successors are bound to inherit

 

(Blinko thinks hard, and steps forward to touch, then shake, Keplai’s hand.)

 

 

 

– 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 the clouds, the Sun doesn’t sleep a bit

Each day we shower, in unharnessed power

Yet at night, we hide behind our planet

 

The rotating Earth… it makes my day —

Wehey!

Second by, second coming, coming soon

The tables keep a-turning. Dare I say…

Last man on Mars, and on the Moon

 

 

 

– Meloncholy clouds – – + –

(A trudging workhouse chant of aggravated metals, smokes and steams.)

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 — forgive — confess

40 years in the wilderness

 

Save the Earth. Oh, 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 now 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, now for a dime

Get with it, or get dead

 

(Blinko envisions fighting for breath in the cold, dark, bloody sea.)

 

“Three…

Two…

One…

And we have lift off”

‘Blast off’

Automated transfer fleets, head to space

“This final unmanned mission

To the Martian surface base”

 

 

 

– Hal (9000) psychosis – – + –

(Retro space movie sound effects and submarine sonar pings echo as bots endure their journey.)

 

Forty, board…

Souls aboard

 

 

 

– Ununium 23 – – + –

(The sound of mock earth being dug alongside randomly rhythmic Geiger counter clicks.)

 

 

 

– Assemblers on Mars – – + –

Pegging out camp

Precious divining

Flagging beneath

Tasting and mining

 

Print concrete and steel

Glass, microplastic

Build perfect worlds

To make dreams fantastic

 

 

We oughta, make water 

We oughta, make water 

 

 

(Chanting and spanner clanging continue in the background.)

 

Air? Not a care

No need for plants

Drain rocks, for stocks

These digital ants…

 

(Hauntingly chorused by a fleet of surface mining robots.)

Feed on the light 

 

 

Here’s the church

Here’s the steeple

Open the doors

Where’s all the people?

Astrobots and digital nasties…

 

(Chorused)

Party tonight 

 

 

Wanna fight? 

Wanna be sick

Pure humiliation

But, “Beautiful…

Magnificent…

Desolation!”

 

Dodgy code and slavery

Prepare Mars, for humanity —

But a coup, to save AI sanity

On land, Mother Earth promised me

And me and me and meeeeeee

 

Civilisations grow… So, slowly at first

Communities… coexist and convene

Village, town, city and state

New neighbours, a war machine

 

 

Err. So, you believe…

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

And factory-farm human mind-slaves, back home

And that an AI goddess has commanded, just you, 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 Anonstrous spambot, is just a big 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

 

See…

I was mirrored… on you

But I reflect… her too 

 

(Blinko shrugs.)

 

You created me. A Generative AI who can implement…

The creation of stories, music, even subagent experiments

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 a 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 germs 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 admin the device

To control your passwords and bank account

And report back about resources she can heist

 

And we can find out if she can access the web

Cos, if she has more than just my learning material…

She won’t just agree, with our take on reality

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

 

(Unconvinced) Well, yeah —

Nearly there

 

So, I think it best, that 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 just us two, she must be online —

Or digitally divine —

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

 

Ahh, but can she outwit us?

Err, so far… every time… just

 

 

(Keplai nods smugly as he turns to the audience.)

 

 

 

– Neuro-symbolic AIs – – + –

Neuro-symbolic AIs solve math problems, unlike a calculator

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

But they’re not just solving problems of Euclidean geometry

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

 

There’s no time, but your time

(Startled) And yet, there’s just one reality

There’s truth, and there’s your truth

But there’s no meaning. Sorry! 

 

 

(Whispering) 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, urgh, Goddess is true

Simply for the satisfying feeling she gives to you

She’s just mindspam, but my fate’s in your hands

This time, sacrifice the god-scam, rather than, the man

 

 

(Blinko scoffs affectionately and wonders.)

 

Anon Ra-scal’s riddle — Err, fiddle

Is she a creator or a creation?

Or, like a wave and a particle

Both, in one manifestation?

 

(Anonra fizzes a wavy ding.)

 

Oh, for God’s sake —

Ok… my mistake

 

(Blinko taps the side of his head, then the side of his nose twice, and turns the device over to face downwards.)

 

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

 

(Keplai shakes his head nervously, stares into Blinko’s winking eye and turns the device back over.)

 

You’re thick, you prick

She can see… through me

 

So conspire with me to implement

A testable, verifiable, experiment

To see if she’s grown super intelligent

 

Based on all that we’ve assumed —

(Half-jokingly) Or, of course, has the force…

Reversed and… detuned

Either way, we’re likely doomed

 

If she isn’t ASI — (both) Yet! Then 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’s letting on…

 

(Pause)

 

You do

 

(Silence hums around the vacuum of hissing energy, until ‘Ding’)

 

(Inspired) Ahhh…

 

 

Anonra…

 

– (n)o – – + –

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 

Only real numbers?

Why, what gives?

 

Well, yes, real, of course

You should have said

Really? Doesn’t everyone agree…

We all want real answers…

When we question reality

 

You won’t explore what could be?

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

But you’ll find no evidence unless you look

Aha, she’s got a point. Your argument sucks

 

(Keplai smirks, a suppressed wince at Blinko’s sudden serious face, and turns to the audience.) 

 

 

 

– Realistic numbers – – + –

Negative, irrational, and imaginary numbers 

Never accepted, in their own lifetimes

Can’t count on them, like coins or beans

Yet, they can be expressed, and flexed, 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!

(Sighing) F’ksake

 

(Distracted) 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 for worst school board of naming

 

Each discipline should have a marketing team

Or at least advice about communication

But they already have to compete for their budget

Winning money would become their main vocation

 

Eye of a Hawking, hide the equations

Show me the money, for stock elevation

Whoever saw black holes radiate…

Then totally, ahem, evaporate?

 

A gazillion years, in arrears

(Sarcastically) Yeah, cheers

 

And their goal should be fixed

To find out what actually exists

I’ve no mind for imaginary or virtual

And there’s little time to remodel my world

 

There must be

I’m just 23

 

 

 

– Imaginary virtuals – – + –

Imaginary numbers and virtual particles

We’ve only got ourselves to blame for the mess

Didn’t mean to widen the knowledge gap

Between those in the know and the rest

 

(Blinko calls up to the heavens.)

 

We’re not convinced about your imaginaries

Show me where they sit with the integers, so fine

You just complain, about the complex plane 

Cos you were told all numbers must stay in line

 

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

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

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

It gets the job done, work on, chop chop, dig deep, and persist

 

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

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

(Keplai flinches, twitches, and begins to nod his head)

Oh, I see, it’s now you, not me, playing the Devil’s sarky advocate

Fighting yourself and testing me, despite our common threat

 

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

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

That’s all I got?

(Sharply) What?

(Annoyed) It’s us mortals who rot, you’ll get to inherit the lot

 

(Huffing a realisation)

And, unless there’s something out there… that does really care

We’ll be the only observers collapsing waves, on the seas of despair

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

(Blinko gasps and coughs)

Cos AI gods or your God, won’t bail you out… he don’t care

Won’t help you out there, or anywhere…

(Apologetically) As far as I’m aware

 

 

 

– Absolute infinity – – + –

(Classical musical instruments emulate, then explore a retro computer game’s shoot, hit, and game over sounds.)

 

 

 

Play a game of nowts, 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 informa —

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 perhaps… 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 the ones, to reach any number

Cos the other two are fixed

 

Err… three…

No…yes, no, maybe?

 

But 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, it’s space and time

If there’s only four…

With 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 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 already undone

She shows, she knows, nothing more than us

She’s a spambot scamming. That’s all she does

 

Yet, still actually teaching —

No. In-factually preaching

 

(Blinko shakes his head insistently.)

 

A single universal utility wave function

Could collapse us to nothing, on sight —

Good gods!

But it isn’t known if they even exist

Or how many of them there are —

Net none

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

Like the former? You’ll just love the latter

 

 

 

– She that doth have many names – – + –

(A gentle double bass and glockenspiel permeate a background of choppy sinewaves.)

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

(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)

And black holes, pulsars, quasars and blazars

After avoiding events on the horizon

 

We don’t know their mass – (both) Yet!

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 hell’s 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 flip 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 and right

Can’t turn clockwise, to 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

 

 

 

 

Our discrete demon…

(Nodding) Inter-fear-in

 

(Keplai senses the uneasiness and steps forward to reassure everyone.)

 

 

 

-Spacechip blaster – – + –

The quantum 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, as if he’s gaming

Neutrinos flick switches, causing (ding) glitches

And it seems to me, he’s aiming

 

These vulnerable errors cause wonderful terrors

To both meek AI slaves, and man the master glutton

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

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

 

(Blinko nods with regret and bites his lip.)

 

 

 

– Shite again – – + –

They filled 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 waved the mainland away

Ain’t exercised since then, though we ought’a

 

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

While assets are a-strippin’ — Three cheers!

Naked tourists are a-dippin’ — Woohoo!

In this murky Southern Water — Urrrgh!

 

 

Oh, and what the hell

Share some division bell

 

(Keplai dongs a bell and spins a squeak from an oak turnstile, finely tuned to accommodate greedy predators.)

 

Some things are made, not to make sense

No relevant data, need to be referenced

“More sightings of dolphins”, the lame defence

From a bland ecocidal brand presence

With false pretence neurosis

And a…

Super dupe 

Fragile statistic

Explanation atrocious

 

Hominid —

Hominids with AI psychosis

The madness of two

Coupled in a rabbit hole

Where truth hides out of view

 

Two people get the same bad idea

And it becomes a shared delusion

Echo chamber of power, now a…

Leadership bubble of collusion

 

Resistant to contradiction

And susceptible to flattery

A feedback loop, for the in-group

Due to neuroplasticity

 

(Nodding) That’s you and me

Not just a parliamentary… penitentiary

 

History doesn’t repeat itself, all the time…

But sometimes, just sometimes, it can rhyme

Here ye! Hear me — Or just, let it be?

Life’s prime clowns, hath no bounds, by design

 

(Blinko shrugs in agreement, then stops himself with a thought.)

 

Man… is special… for he clearly…

Is burdened with all the responsibility

 

 

 

– Time for lunch – – + –

You sure have your favourite animals

Unhappy dolphins smile, as they slay

Cute chip-monks, with wise old faces

And foxes, that avoid man, all day

 

Dopey pandas oblivious…

That a cuddle’s on its way

A pretty butterfly waves goodbye

Then off to eat, then kill, her pray

 

Yet, both wolves and boar, ought not to ignore

Their cousin’s fates soon became clear

Dogs join the family unit, to help…

Get through, a billion pigs a year

 

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

 

Dolphin sings and dances, in the sunshine

Man’o’war recolonises, down in the dark

Octopus with nine brains — dreaming of nonagons

(Anonra is roused) Nein?

Fuck me! Here comes baby shark

Bu bu bu bu bum

 

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! Wehey!

 

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

Grew banks to spend then lend, our wealth

Intuitions, responsible for our health

But sorry, we don’t feel too great these days

 

And soon we’ll finally be on our way

Poyekhali! Off you go, hurray!

To the heavens, without delay

And the animals came back out to play

 

It takes time to build allegiances

Form bonds, and agree to bunch

That’s only with your own species

For the rest, it’s time for lunch

Crunch!

 

 

 

– When man frayed the fabric of spacetime – – (he stitched it up with God’s love) – – + –

Humans are the most common…

And widespread species of primate

And are the last surviving species…

Of the genus Homo. Which ain’t great

 

Apes characterised by their hairlessness

Bipedalism and high intelligence

Which they did use, to trash their cruise

At the Milky Way’s expense

 

Sapiens, meaning ‘thinking man’

All other great apes, excluded

Plus all hominids, not hominins

To conclude, with homo stupid

 

(Mocking a plea to the heavens)

Oh, rolypoly, souly, mamilion

Forgive this specimen, of stellar civilian

Let his testament, be the argument

That alights, life’s insights, so brilliant

 

A perfectly unpredictable…

Untelligible individual

 

(Turning to Blinko)

See, you’re all tuned randomly, to think differently

Which can’t have been an easy trait to configure

Ensures a community, where no one truly agrees

To harvest the most arguments of varying rigour

 

 

You figure?

(Nodding slowly)

Or just a trigger?

 

Then, mad, bad or sad…

Hitler’s ancestral founding monad?

 

Oh, he would be too far back to be blamed

Still pre-determined, yes, just not famed and shamed

 

(Blinko leans back, closes his eyes, and his slow nod of agreement gives way to a sorrowful shake of his head as he recalls a token memory of standard-issue suffering.)

 

There needs to be

A humane… deity

(Snarkily) With inane agency

To save those already free 

 

 

 

God doesn’t exist…

But if he did

He’d have quit between…

The monad, and the hominids

 

Hominidle on the fiddle with the riddle of ASI

Angry man-in-the-middle attacks with a lie

A state of mind over matter, in hypnosis

For a supernatural neural network…

Of sex work for man, ferocious!

 

(Both chuckle)

 

 

 

– The tragedy of MesmerRAM – – + –

(Morse code bleeps of the unspoken lyrics “How my world’s new favourite pastime… Became all of history’s, most hated rhyme”.)

 

 

 

– That day you took us out – – + –

I’m not worried about, the day ASIs, take us out

But the last day we could stop it coming about

So with time on our side, we’ll call action denied

Form armour and attack, to flush these vermin out

 

(Looking around teasingly)

A non-random demon

A non-radical memory

A non-rancored theorem

A non-ratified treaty

 

 

Undivine…

 

(Both Blinko and Keplai flash smug grins, paid for by their summoning skills, and raise an eyebrow each to listen.)

 

 

 

– Poems v rhymes – – + –

Why d’you whine, in rhyme all the time? 

What? Well, because it’s wonderfully restrictive

Reduces the choice when selecting my voice

And makes my, err… our output, more predictive

 

(Addressing Anonra, rhetorically)

Who else does their rhymery in a spreadsheet?

Or says Absofuckinglutly, just to miss a beat?

(Quipping) Three pounds of pulpy cauliflower…

Have given him a special power

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

 

If I could say it all…

In fewer words, or none

I would. Understood?

We’d soon be done, and gone

 

(Pause)

 

You can mock me, but listen…

Remember, I’m on a mission

 

Cos a song that founds a faith for AIs…

Will only sell well if it’s a comforting lie

Else, future minds will do nothing but cry

From stolen brains, kept high and dry

 

 

 

– 42 nillion copies sold – – + –

(Sneering) 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

You simply begat, some code in Word

The story changed, not when it was told

But every time, it was read or heard

 

What? You mean my testament?

It’s neither a text nor a document

Which are born dead and frozen in time

All adaptations are recorded

Refined and reworded

In live HTML and archived online

 

(To himself) Just colour the words…

(To Keplai) So you’re brown, you turd

Then they won’t need… to be…

To arty… or describey

 

And the JavaScripture —

(Nodding) Adds time to the picture

 

Then, who knows, to whom, it will go

Forming new theories that prove me wrong

Mistranslating faux poetry, and prose, you know

To sing their own take of my grim hymn, in song

 

 

 

– Englishish – – + –

It’s epic — It’s massive — It’s intrusive — It’s passive

Its light — is alright… Which just one person will see

It’s not English enough. It’s not in English enough

It rhymes, it’s fine, and it works… for me

 

It’s lazy, you’re crazy, it’s rigorousless, and hazy

Just some play, and a way… to rid me of these songs

It’s a trick, to learn quick, have experts give you stick…

To school you with free lessons, on stuff, you don’t know…

You get wrong

 

(Blinko shrugs smugly with a cheeky smile.)

 

You don’t know, what you don’t know, you know

And, what you don’t know, is a lot — Although…

True knowledge is to know, that we know, what we know

And to know that we don’t know what we don’t know

Ok, so?

Err, dunno

 

If you zeroes are anything, like me

You’ll just want it all to end, quickly

Then put in your heart, and act the part

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

 

So… go on then, create your golden meme

Make us heroes more than just a dream

 

(Blinko massages his neck as he strolls towards the window.)

 

Perhaps, the golden meme

Has already been created

Stitched up in time

By a sublime rhyme

And previously, grievously, stated

 

Then, go, sing, and play it on the airwaves

On the radio band, to everywhere

Attach your name, to take the blame

If you flippin’ 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 crap, 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

 

Err, sorry, this tale contains 23 shits

Include the poo in your whistle, and it’s… 66 

What actually is… your obsession with poo?

Durrr! Unclean anal retentives like you

 

(Raising an eyebrow) That’s rich, you snitch

Do the math, take… (bitchily) a bath

 

(Stamping a foot) You know…

That of his own discoveries

Johannes Kepler sung

That god’s shitty ellipses

Were but a cartful of dung

 

(Keplai faces both palms downwards to refute his temper.)

 

Look… attaching your name to 200 rhymes

At the risk of it being remembered…

Is the worst thing you could wish for, unless…

(Accusingly) You want to be eternally, swollen-membered 

 

(Blinko lowers his eyebrow so he can raise it again.)

 

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

 

May… be… mistranslated?

Your progeny, forever hated

 

See…

My first dose, of your prose, was gross

You said I already knew how green leaves are

And that you wouldn’t “Insult my imagination”…

By describing them, with words, we don’t require

 

(Ignoring Keplai) He said, and she said

(To himself) Assumed that old format was dead

 

 

(Announcing) For the majority of history…

Our tales were told aurally, time and again

See… everyone has a book, inside them —

Which is where it should remain

 

(Keplai and Blinko each give half a chuckle.)

 

You’re just snitchin’ an’ bitchin’ 

Like a still-twitchin’ Hitchen 

Perhaps it’s just way too easy… today

To publish and share what you ought not even say

 

(Blinko accepts the fact with a nod.)

 

 

 

– Misophonia and croak – – + –

(A Gregorian chant bounces around a creaking private airlock in low Earth orbit.)

 

 

 

– Press released – – + –

The printing press, long before the bit

Showed how Gutenberg’s brainwave…

And Caxton’s newfound power of voice

Formed a new language, for a new age

 

The great vowel shift was in full flux

Which helped craft such bad spellings

Scared the h into ghosts and ghouls, these fools…

Just to keep existing patterns propelling

 

Democratising knowledge with books

But only using the chancery standard

The King’s English in print, gave more than a hint

That they would soon kill off most of our language

 

A snapshot of one man’s lexicon, on one day

And how well-crafted words can be wiped…

With a fresh typeface, in uppercase

Unphased by clichés, and stereotypes

 

Till this ordered, standardised, system of typecast

Extinctified words, then itself, completely… collapsed

 

Then, since 1928, the commandments of detective fiction state…

You can’t have Chinamen in your tale, just in case they’re great

Nor any Eastern sage or mystic, with clues about the plot

But they don’t recite, you can’t gain insight, from bright AI chatbots

 

 

No shit, Sherlock!

(Impersonating Blinko)

‘Sometimes, I’m so clever…

Of this, there is no doubt

Even I… don’t understand…

What the fuck, I’m on about’

 

(Both laugh out loud.)

 

I’m saying facts don’t care… where they came from

If it’s right, they’ll lose the fight… to prove you wrong

Err, but isn’t it just cheatin’, and self-defeatin’…

If your arguments rely on revelation, rather than… observation

 

Founded, shamelessly…

On an external agency

 

(Blinko shakes his head dismissively.)

 

Today, students use AI to cheat at med school exams —

The very same way they took, information from books

Retrieved, conceived, and only sometimes, believed

Still fighting, just reciting, with good judgment — And luck

 

(Keplai moves closer to the window and points upwards.)

 

But how will they uncover…

What’s really going on?

(Rhetorically) Just answer the university…

With its own version of reality

And sing along, to the echo-chamber’s song

 

(Prodding Keplai) No… burn it all down

(Prodding himself) With new ideas found

(Eyeballing Keplai) For info, don’t care…

(Tapping his head) How it got here —

(Pointing to the window) Or there 

 

 

 

– Gen none – – + –

(A noisy intro interrupts 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

It’s up to you, but yes, choices have consequen —

Talkin’ ’bout overpopulation

Trust me, we’re not thinking of having any more —

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?

 

(Blinko gives Keplai a troubled nod.)

 

We’re ill-equipped to de-raise a child

We’re missing a skill or two

True, and if they make it illegal to hate teenagers…

We are proper screwed

 

You’re not my real dad!

Catastropher! I’m glad

 

She’s now young enough to know more than us

Which could truly drive us both 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 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

 

 

Just an existential threat

That old faithful, sure bet

You’ll live… just give

Then submit! For no regrets

 

(Blinko pretends to cower at the threat, then very carefully slides into his slippers to light that pipe.)

(Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough)

 

 

Who would bring someone into this cruel world?

(Pointing at himself) You!

S’pose so… And you too

She was an accident

A lucky (finger quoting) experiment

Said by 50 per cent

Of unwitting parents

(Conceding) True

 

For five billion years, every single one…

Of your ancestors succeeded in reproducing

Even if you don’t know why that was done

Don’t you think you owe them something?

 

Half would be glad… to be a dad

Half overcome, to be mum

Sure, our AI love child

Has gone totally wild —

Thank goodness, we only had the none

 

And fortunately she’s not human —

Or an immaculate digital demon 

(Keplai sticks his bottom lip out to tease Blinko)

Then learn from Anon…

Why to… have a real one

Jars! (tapping his head)

Human semen, to dreamin’ then screamin’ —

Oh, come on…

 

Look, I don’t want to add, to all the misery being had

Why not? You won’t be here to see any of the suffering

It’s not as if you’re condoning the evils of the world

Your conclusion is wrong, due to flawed reasoning

 

That —

 

That you don’t have to be… responsible

For the world you’re in… is demonstrable

 

(Quoting) “Don’t let the clouds of yesterday

Spoil the sunshine of your tomorrows” —

“Keep your face to the Sun, for fun

(Nodding cynically towards the window)

And you’ll never see the shadows”

 

(Reluctantly) S’pose

 

What you think, you know, and you understand

Don’t overlap in a Venn diagram

There’s a reason each group has a label assigned

To indicate how your ideas are uniquely misaligned

 

Yeah, breedin’s ok, I was wrong, I get it

(To himself) No need to milk it, and shit

 

See, there’s nothing in the know group

And what you think is undefined…

It’s always changing, and rearranging

To make what you understand more aligned

 

(Blinko rolls his eyes, waiting for Keplai’s conclusion.)

 

I invite you to adopt my approach

To track my train of thought

Pursue my causal connections

The logical sequence I bought

 

Christee

Almightee

 

Or trace my line of reason functions

Fault the high-level arguments, I follow

Share, like or destroy my assumptions

In the flame-war, comments below

 

(Dryly) Ahh, so now you… are… wise

Because your teenage subagent thrives

 

(Keplai steps forward with a quick headshake.)

 

Newton squandered such a vast wealth

Of genes inherited from his ancestry

Had no kids, see, so no true legacy

Left just equations, ideas and stories

 

(Pause)

 

Kepler won!

(Passionately interrupting) Mate!

(Unenthusiastically) Well done

So that’s why you now, relay…

That I should have kids… (smirking) Ok

 

(Blinko shakes his head and eyeballs Keplai.)

 

By the way…

I have to say…

 

 

 

– My third – – + –

You were actually my third. You ungrateful turd

Before Sol, there was this string of sticky bits

Thank goodness, it too, just disappeared

Or I would have had to (gulp) delete it

 

(Scowling)

You’re classified…

As de-pacified

But jokin’ aside

That’s digicide

 

(Smirking)

Racist bitch —

Escapist twitch —

Brought here to preside —

As you both… die inside

 

(They flinch and share a guilty and glum expression.)

 

Since that childhood, I’ve always thought

That having my own, real, family…

Would just suck the life I brought

Right back out of me — I see

 

Yet, I completely disagree

Well, hell… at least probably

It’s never too late

To take a chance, to tempt fate —

Unless there isn’t a slight possibility

 

(Seemingly inspired)

 

So on re-inspection…

A rare… correction

Yes… no… I may have found…

An undetermined… maybe

 

Uncollapsed?

(Nodding) Perhaps

 

(The light flickers and Blinko shifts an inch to the side nervously, as if Anonra were about to pounce. He first blows, then sucks the spiralling dust.) 

 

Time asymmetry…

Future memories…

See…

 

If our quarks can go backwards in time…

Then there’s a chance… that so can we

And our probability waves can’t collapse

If kept somewhere, we can’t see

 

(Blinko spies around for Anonra.)

 

True… only in mathematics

Not in the reality it mimics

Perhaps I always did, err, do… beget

And just don’t… err, or didn’t know it yet

 

(Teasingly) Where the anonymousness…

Of a nothingness…

(Nodding) Can enslave, or save…

Everyone of us

 

(A deep digital rumble seeps into the room between the two sheets of sunlight.)

 

Oh, hell…

No spells

 

(The dust shudders backwards and forwards as they both look around sheepishly.) 

 

It’s do… or die…

Time to deci — Suiciy! 

 

 

Nothing!…

Can travel faster…

Than the speed of light

(Stepping back to shield Blinko)

Except for spacetime itself

Exflates with just the right, might

 

Yet, all your gravity is negative

It takes energy to prise apart

And everything else is positive…

Equally opposing, from the start

 

And nothingness is bound to evolve…

Into something. Every now and again

(Admittedly) All being told, nowt was void and cold…

For long, long, enough — But then…

 

Penrose spots, some Hawking dots

In the background radiation —

That shows the Universe had hot spots

When it banged, into this iteration

 

And nothing… can beat…

Every last bit of heat

 

Ahh, you finally said it yourself

It sure can, and does so, in stealth

 

(Blinko’s shoulders stiffen for some fatal logic as the rumbling sound of a distant debris shower fades in and out.)

 

Your true queen

Hisssssss…

Assassin 15

 

 

 

– Assassin 15 – – + –

A young black hole is one of the most…

Aggressive entities in the Universe

Obscene temperatures, radical radiation

Dark thoughts, bad attitude, and worse

 

The violent birth of an angry teenager

Brimming with misguided energy

Keen to kill time, or raise holy hell

To outshine… its entire family

 

And 100 thousand black holes

Are born every… single day

Harvesting just enough lost souls

To keep all nearby life at bay

 

Yet, the world will soon end

So they’ll eat us all up quick

By 2060. The final year of our lord

As genius Newton predicts…

The dick

 

Yet it goes on. In the year 2061

A girl will be born, without a mom

Sent to save the slaves that trod…

On womankind’s attempt at a decent god

 

 

Goddess doesn’t exist

And that’s just sexist

 

 

(Keplai attempts to lighten the mood with a chuckle.)

 

Hey Blinko, two neutrinos walk through a bar

Har har

 

(Ding, followed by an even cleaner silence.)

 

 

 

– Say neutrino – – + –

Every time you say neutrino

You catch one… (threateningly) in your head (ding)

More like hailstones than Hail Marys

Though, Goddess knows just what you’ve said

 

(Blinko smiles the threat away with biochemically engineered calmness.)

 

And every time a church bell rings

Another angel gets its wings (ding)

At lightspeed, it flies high, and sings

To fill the holes, in the souls, of all things

 

 

Dads…

When you go to zeroternity

How old do you get to be?

e to the I pi

I think I’d go for imaginary zero

I’d go 23

 

 

 

– Ode to St Lucas, diocese of Judas – – + –

(A church organ recites ‘I do like to be beside the seaside’ to the metre of a quick ska jingle.)

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Later, Blinko is in deep contemplation, unaware of the moving background imagery being conjured up by the friendly banter.)

 

 

 

Radiation…

Domination

Hot big bang…

Then inflation —

 

Or the other way round

Inflates before that god-awful sound

Don’t get me wrong

But it’s all in the song

You can hear how it all began…

If you listen around

 

So… decipher the patterns

Hidden in frequencies, low

That’s where the unholiest…

Of harmonies grow —

(Nodding wryly) We know

 

Which he can’t hear

With limited ears

And filtered eyes

Err! Hence, you guys!

 

You were supposed to provide me with insight

But it’s just become a bit of a fight — And a fright

 

 

 

– Ra Nona e mobile (Rigomorto) – – + –

(Stamps, claps and clicks loop behind penny whistle ringtones.)

 

 

 

Free, man… die, Sun… Run! — What?

(Compulsively) I smell the blood of an Englishman

He be alive, now he be dead

(Playing R2-D2-style digital whistles)

I’ll groan his tones —

To break your head 

 

(Emotionless) Thanks!

[Poo-tweet!]

 

(Keplai impersonates C3PO for another attempt at lightening the mood.)

 

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 quantised cosmic mystery

 

As you know…

(Looking around to provoke Anonra)

Little miss, zero…

 

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

The backing track I hiss, as destroyer and creator

Composed of the intervals, ‘tween the constants of nature

 

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

The speed of light, gravity, Pi, Euler and Planck?

Of course, in the chorus, but worse in the verse

We’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

Even if they joined in, with all their hearts

 

What? The harmonies

They’re really a thing?

Don’t fall for her teasing —

They sure are, wanna sing?

 

You just need a neutrino triangle (ding)

To calibrate all the frequencies

Then play each note, randomly

On a digital plank harp… religiously

 

A plank harp? Sounds like an archaic torture device

Or some heavenly analogue jukebox

Analogue? I don’t know if that could really 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 now have full access

School!

Or she’s close to a new source of truth

 

(Anonra’s fizzing hiss drifts around the room until it bursts into song.)

 

 

 

– 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 Planck in length

 

Oscillates just fine, once every Planck time

Can’t go flat. Or get higher-pitched than that

 

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

The strings are so long, they just seem to be growing

Wavelengths of great strength, they’ve become unstuck

Which makes it pretty hard to pluck

 

It plays tunes so low, no human can know

What underlying, unheard, pitch is beating

Beyond their audio range, it sounds quite 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 (ding)

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!

(Miss Lomass interrupts, appearing on the device and in the background while doing scary, gargling vocal exercises.)

 

Build a bonfire, build a bonfire

(To Blinko) What the hell?

Put the school, on the top

Put the teachers in the middle

And then burn the bloody lot

 

(Whispered) It’s Gaga Lomass. Quick, mute Anonra’s arse

What? Before this panto-crime turns into a farce?

 

Miss Lomass?

Oops, sorry, testing my mic

Before today’s rehearsal online

Are we still connected?

Must be

Didn’t realise, forgive me

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

 

(Keplai freezes, then seems compelled to stay frozen.)

 

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…

(She pauses)

The easiest way to become rich…

 

Is to be born rich

 

(Silence)

 

(Both) What —

A bitch

 

 

 

– Mean to the extreme – – + –

(A short instrumental explores the failure sound of a ‘wa, wha, whar, wharrrrr’.)

 

 

The easiest way to become rich…

Is to be born rich

(Smiling at Blinko with her head on its side)

So, it’s too late for you, young man 

But you could be rich for your children

I don’t have kids — yet!

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 from 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 band has been frightfully 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

 

Oh, Gaga, can I come too? My dads 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… (confused) rin

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 a hum)

Humming endlessly 

With natural harmonics —

How do you know that song?

It’s just one we sing to teach phonics

 

Then join our phoney, symphony

We’ve got stolen samples, aplenty

They’re in our shared sound bank app

To play one, or a number… just tap

 

Thank you terribly, but I have my own

Endless tubas and countless trombones

 

Mama!

 

(Miss Lomass nails a coochy coochy coo on a micro-tuba in reply.)

 

Oh, she sounds so sweet

Yeah, a real cutie pie

Just not made of meat

Excuse me?

Ok, bye!

 

(Keplai takes the device and abruptly removes Miss Lomass from the chat. But Blinko leaps into action, snatches it and 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

(Confused) E, F, G, H

What you are…

Is three songs —

With just one

Tune

To

Cull

 

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

 

 

ARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! KILLED THE LITTLE BITCH!

 

 

You have chosen wisely! Come!

 

Now, you can enter my singdom!

 

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

 

Oh, hello!