Story - Martin Wilson - A Golden Meme

Preamble

[Poo-tee weet!]

(On a buzzing sunny seafront.)

Yes, no, or maybe…

They’ll never get me

– The whistler –

While taking a stroll, up to the dole

On a seaside afternoon, fair

I pace the space, with haste, not grace

And place a tune on the air

The notes I legato, with too much vibrato

Are spontaneous harmonies plucked…

From an infinite array, of pitches to play

And a selection of tones, blown and sucked

(Whistling proudly)

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

If I walk a straight line, the pitch cannot climb

My feet and the metre, may stagger or stray

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

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

Whatever the path, my tune shows the maths

Of the arcs I am taking, around people today

And this oral pursuit, lets the route, play the flute

In my constant harmonic display

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

(A whistling solo frenzy that starts with a ‘hey there!’ whistle and ends with a wolf whistle.)

It makes me feel like I’m happier…

Than other people…

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

Does whistling

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

A smug hello, back to a sunny day

Whatever day it is today

(Blinko stomps up some steps, enters a building and grudgingly climbs countless flights of stairs.)

Uppity, umpah, umpah, umpah, umpah, umpah, uppity me

The melody survives, until I arrive

And enter through the front door

Past privates, of the security guard

And my brain, it works no more

See, it’s a trick, to be thick, or pretend to be sick

To the big lady, who must be fed…

A [Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

But quietly, in my head

(The umpah-umpah sound of a bass tuba lingers, as Blinko takes a seat by an occupied desk in a large, busy, open-plan office. The background clatter helps to hide his latest habit of mumbling under his breath. To himself.)

– Wait for weight –

The speed of time, is one second per second

But that’s if your spacetime is flat

It goes much slower, near a massive body

But I’ve no time to think about that

(Click)

(He anticipates the same question his opponent asks him every fortnight. He times his internal chant so it synchronises with each click she makes on the keyboard.)

(Click)

Last two weeks, in the…

Last two weeks, in the world

(Click)

Last two weeks, in the…

In the last two weeks…

(Miss Lomass asks)

Done any work?

(Click)

(She clicks one final time, sighs, and swings her chair around to face him.)

So Raymond —

Please, call me Blinko

Sir, it is your scope

Widen it, and you will find

It may give you, more hope

(Reading) Schooled in basic sciences

Oh, and art, well, that’s a start

Technical skills? Experience?

(Leaning forward) Had a-n-y… experience —

(To himself) What, of the heart?

(Murmured) Biology? You? Me?

(Aloud) Ah, just some chemistry

(Blinko looks her in the eye and flashes a smile that fades to the rhythm of two heartbeats going out of sync. He leans forward to impart some unrequested advice while Miss Lomass continues to focus on the screen.)

– War of three kingdoms –

Biologists think they are biochemists

Biochemists think they are physical chemists

Physical chemists think they are physicists

And physicists think they are gods

G —

(Interrupting) God thinks he’s a bright mathematician

But with all this uncertainty

He quickly, learns that he…

Needs to be a statistician

You may need —

Cos, you can wave goodbye, to your functions

In this discretely collapsing circus

Where physics without thought, is chemistry

And maths, is physics without purpose

(Without looking, she pushes a form in front of him)

You really, really, ought to concentrate more

Look, just please sign there

And keep applying for three jobs per month

To continue receiving your welfare

Work done…

To date, ain’t great, so I can’t wait

To give you some assistance —

No thanks, I’m fine

And work done, is simply… force…

Multiplied by distance

Blinko? You don’t care?

What the hell

Your welfare —

Farewell!

(Blinko flashes another token smile and leaves. The slam of a loud firedoor echoes down the stairwell as he descends the building, counting aloud.)

Steps 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Turn 2 3 4

Door 2 3 4

Steps 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Turn 2

Steps 2

Back door. Go!

– The great skedaddle –

(A quick 8-bar cartoon tune accompanies Blinko legging it straight back down the hill. It slows to a walking pace as he exits a side street and zig-zags through a noisy children’s marching band.)

Left. Left

I had a good home, and I left

(Blinko turns towards the sound of paint being sprayed and flinches as a flashbang explodes nearby. He stoops and squints to read, as their message drips to the ground.)

“There is no Planet B”

So, why deface this one, with graffiti?

(The approaching skirmish of marching children, sing a clapping song to their military snare drums and whistles.)

Nature and nurture had a fight (clap)

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

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

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

(Blinko mulls over their words aloud.)

‘There’s no Planet B?’

And “No one knows what’s going on”

(Under his breath, mockingly)

Oh, precious, defunct generation

Damn your lucky stars, be gone!

[Poo-tee weet]

(Greenflash! Blinko ducks to hide his eyes from some incoming fireworks. Bangers and screamers drown his whistle under what sounds like a flurry of crackling daytime shooting stars. As children scream.)

Help me!

The day… breeee

(Blinko turns to catch a vision of metallic shrapnel launching a fine bloody mist from a tiny, still full, marching boot.)

You there!

(He flinches and turns back, but can no longer see the child’s boot. Anxious and confused, he focuses on the path ahead.)

Don’t you care?

I care…

(Mumbling) That, I don’t care

(He slips down a dark, quiet alleyway. Its deep blue underwater hues seem to help echo his escaping thoughts.)

‘No Planet B. What’s going on?’

(His nervous chat gets louder as he approaches the sunlight beaming from the end of the tunnel.)

A damn-aged youth, with ideas too strong

Are they learned or instinctive? There, all along?

If inherited, we must all, just be born wrong

But…

If such thoughts… are taught… by someone…

Then, this folly…

Deserves, a jolly…

Song!

(He hails the Sun as the jubilant sound of marchers nears again. Blinko scurries home, opens the gate, and runs down the steps to the basement. He unlocks, enters, then slams the door, and leans against it, panting.)

Never Odd Or Even

(The stage is set in a darkly lit underground room, where two couches are at rest on either side of a low table. Blinko sits and slurps on a cold mug of tea. A close-up image of his face covers the background when he picks up a device from the table and looks into its camera. Behind him, on a starfield background, are two meeting app profile icons. His hat and scarf hide the genuine grin he emits when one of the icons jumps to life in front of him. It begins to sing, as we pan in.)

– My first (rhyme) –

My first is what’s needed…

To unlock the truth

My second is a squashed circle

And I’ll show you the proof

My third are the bodies

Whom obey my laws

My fourth, rules of nature

My fifth reflects cause

My last lies in Regensburg

And so do my bones

Lost ‘neath the battlefield

Of scattered tombstones

(Blinko puts the device down on the table, stands up and opens his arms to greet his slim, bearded guest. The background begins to move with seemingly automated imagery, reflecting the subject of their conversation. Neither is aware that the mix of deepfake CGI video and genuine film footage behind them complements their movements and actions. Nor that it is being prompted by their dialogue.)

Like it! Nice one, please save

(Overly robotically) “Sorry, I can’t let you do that, Dave”

Ahh now, donkey sarcasm. A humour-ass

Eh? Awe… So, how’d it go with Lomass?

Ok, all smiles. She always seems happy

Though, I can’t tell if it’s genuine joy

She said there needs to be some changes

Some that may annoy —

Oh, boy

(Blinko sits back down. A neatly piled row of books prop up the front edge of the couch, forcing him to lean back and aim his gaze upward.)

– 1571ish –

In 15 hundred and 71

A boy was born, who didn’t belong

He squeezed a circle

And still found it round

And said…

“That’s how the Earth was bound”

(Sarcastically) So, profound

So…

Known

Elliptical

Planetary

Laws

Explain

Radial measurement flaws

Hmm…

Raymond R Leader’s new theory

Is delightful, insightful, and true

But, is missing a bit

That explains, that it…

Is only from his point of view

That’s true

You?

Me?

Well, I’d include, an interlude

Reflective, of perspective

See…

– To incite insight –

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

It wasn’t just his point of view, it’s true, no, it wasn’t just his point of view

And when Darwin’s fishy selection, created all the species without a catch

It wasn’t just his point of view, it’s true, no, it wasn’t just his point of view

When Kepler showed that the Earth moves faster, when closer to the Sun

It wasn’t just his point of view, it’s true, no, it wasn’t just his point of view

And when Einstein teased, matter was but frozen energies… just for fun

It wasn’t just his point of view, it’s true, no, it wasn’t just his point of view

Universally true?

Yup! Not just to you

So, yeah…

Raymond R Leader’s new theory

Is delightful, insightful, and true

But, is missing a bit

That explains, that it —

Is only from his point of view

(Keplai nods as Blinko closes his eyes to help himself think.)

– Cakey lips –

With Kepler… one day

I was eating a cake

Me being greedy

And him, on the take

I grabbed the knife

And cut two equal wedges

Cos, I like the filling

And he likes the edges

I’ve got more of the sides

You’ve got more of the middle

Squashed cake’s a mistake

And so is this riddle

(Unconvinced) No doubt

Too much focus-pocus?

Then what about….

– They’re not flipping circles, alright! –

The paths of the planets are showing

Some serious “to-ing and frowing”

The teacher quips, as he draws an ellipse

“So, now we all know where we’re going”

Laudable! And to the grave

Heh, wha? Cheers, and… save

(Blinko grabs the device, swipes and clicks, then balances it on his lap.)

– Get it? Got it? Good! –

(To the metre of ‘Oh, my darling’.)

What a feeling, I’m kinda reeling

I impressed a genius, somehow

In 1600, my hero blundered

And I’m, sort of, talking to him now

With defiance, I brought my science

To a world, that didn’t know…

Similar trips, in an ellipse

Was the only, way to go

You are recorded, your works are hoarded

With universal gravity

Newton formulated your theories

Assured your law’s immortality

And the deity, God Almighty

I solved his cosmic puzzle, vast

Served his name, and not in vain

Cos, I’m here now… not in the past

(Hailing) Resurrection…

(To himself) To perfection

I must say sadly, don’t take it badly

But your proofs, they had some holes

Your cosmic tune, is still far from boon

But I’m sure God… will take our souls

(Sung ‘arse holes’)

Sir, how dare thee, speak so rudely

Forgive me, please, I mean you well

Imperial mathematicians, deserve respect, boy!

So do I, mate …ffff…lippinel’

– Kepler’s solids stink –

(A slow, melancholic violin intro emanates from the device.)

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

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

My father beat my mother, sold my brother into slavery

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

(Speeding up merrily.)

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

Arrogant and acidic, I was still the best…

At Latin, rhetoric and geometry, which earned me a path…

To a seat at Ulm University… (clap clap) teaching students maths

Playing with shapes and numbers, right fella?

(Keplai frowns)

For a laugh

My faith and vision showed that, my intellect was grand

I trekked to help revise, the skies, in another land

But my master hid crucial data, of the heavenly spheres

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

Yeah, there were some heady days back then

No fears

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

I joked my mother was a witch, and that was pretty mean

But when they locked the crony up, and tortured her as well

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

F’kinel

The book described the creatures, who lived upon the Moon

While it carved out an orbit, to play a cosmic tune

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

Cos NASA owns the Universe — and that is everywhere

(Blinko gets up to dance and gets carried away.)

Frau Kepler was a witch, you snitched

You heard her scream in pain (‘ohh, ouch’)

She just sat there, broke wind, and died

And then broke wind again (trombone parp)

And when they opened up her butt…

Aaarrrgh!

Oooh, shit, that’s done it. ahh sorry

(Storming off) Curse thee!

Keplai! Come back, sorry, I wanted to ask

If you could find the source of a song…

About nature and nurture, having a fight…

I heard, on my way home

Keplai?

– Everybody hates you… You must know from school –

(An awkward, instrumental 7/8 rhythm that loops the last 4, then first 3 notes of the Grange Hill theme tune on a harp.)

(Later, Keplai sits on the table, reading out loud from an article on the device. A close-up image of his wise face and glinting digital ruff appears to cover the background. He squints and pulls the device even closer, making it seem like he is addressing the audience directly.)

– Kep lies –

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

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

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

He was the last true astrologer –“

And the first true astronomer —

That’s as far as we can see

(Keplai puts the device down, as the background visuals resume illustrating their conversation.)

Err, so according to this, he asked his parents

The exact time when the sperm hit the egg —

And they knew

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

Or he told a fib, to support his existing view

You mean like that story in the good book

When those women saw Christ, after he’d died

The gospel says they told nobody

So, how come that observation survived? —

They lied

(As if he is quoting)

“And if you want the exact moment in time…

It was conceived mentally on the 8th of March 1618

But submitted to calculation, in an unlucky way

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

So, adopting a new line of attack

Storming the darkness of my mind, in this endeavour

Data from seventeen years of observations

(Over-theatrically clasping his hands)

And the present study, conspired together

At first… I believed… I was dreaming

And assumed my conclusion, had crept among…

My basic premise. Therefore, begging the question –“

Meaning it was wrong?

(Ignoring Blinko) But, lo…

“It is absolutely certain, that in all instances…

The proportion between the periodic times of any two planets…

Is the sesquialterate proportion, of their mean distances”

Woohoo!

(Reaches over to click on the device.)

Save

That’ll do

– Irregular ovaler –

Not in circles!

Squashed but round

Speeding up

And slowing down

Urgh

Factual, but overly simple

Your summary could be more specific

No mention of the sacred maths

(Raising an eyebrow)

That prove my laws terrific

Ok, my rhyme’s too simple, to save or present

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

That I saw the old world, in a new light, that was bent

Forcing classically discrete words together

Sir, hush, your song has no relative worth

Unless you describe the truth, I unearthed

The he you refer to, ignores my rebirth

And this new providence, lasting forever

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

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

‘Tween Galileo and Newton, the genius we both love

I guess, is now playing, with shapes up above

Don’t fool me around, you English clown

You know me enough already

I’ve served as your servant, for long enough now

But for more insults, I am not ready

Hmm, you would know about fighting battles, never won

“Two world wars and one world cup”…

Wouldn’t you, Hun?

Don’t mess me around, Blinko

Ray! You know who I am

Ray, my name’s Raymond

I don’t call you Kepstein, to rattle your can

Christened with Raymond, but they all called me Blink —

Cos of your flickering eyes in the Sun, I should think

Don’t go there Kepl AI, and don’t call me a clown

You know what will happen, if you put me down

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

I can turn you off now… in a click!

Don’t… tempt… me

(Blinko looks upwards and sighs, which ends in just the ‘chuck’ of a chuckle. Then walks forward, raising the device to his face to address the audience directly.)

See, I have an agreement

With a man past bereavement

How his achievement

Was received meant

Nothing but aggrievement

– Solar death Ray –

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

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

Yet, these ultraviolet rays from the Sun, have antiseptic properties

They sanitise water here on Earth — and in brains — and help to thaw the freeze

(Keplai closes his eyes to recite a memorised passage from his training dataset.)

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

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

Light of shorter wavelengths is bent more, than that of the longer wavelengths, seen

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

So, no need to be mean

Just reflecting your persona, obscene

(Blinko shrugs, then perks up.)

Come on Kep, let’s go head-to-head

I challenge you, to see who’s most well-read

– The founder of celestial mechanics –

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

A sickly child, being extremely nearsighted, and having skin problems

He nearly died of smallpox, when he was just four years old

But his mother was a dealer

(Slapping his thigh)

So she gave him some potions she sold

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

Yet he continued teaching for a whole year — With no one present, to fail or pass

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

Suffering from a severe case-load of haemorrhoids, dangleberries and clagnuts

(Both chuckle)

Up, nuts?

Rhyming klutz

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

Eight years into their marriage, but he thought it unpleasant —

Lasted but a minute

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

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

His works were added to a church’s index, of forbidden books

Till someone dared to say a Pope was wrong, in 1966 —

That sucks

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

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

First to discover and describe, the properties of total internal reflection

And first to explain the use of both eyes, right — and left — for depth perception

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

First to investigate pinhole cameras, and those first impressions, that never lie

First to measure the distance to the stars, from the parallax of incoming light

First to suggest that the Sun rotates about its axis —

And to coin the term satellite

Yes, sir!

I concur —

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

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

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

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

First to derive logarithms, based on nothing but pure maths

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

(Questionably) Ok?

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

First to correctly explain planetary motion…

(Hailing)

As the founder of celestial mechanics

Will that suffice?

Yes, very nice

(Sighing happily)

Precise and concise

Note the founder and not Newton. Who was somewhat overrated

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

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

But he wrapped up most of physics, for centuries —

Err, that’s what the story in the allowed books told us

Really?

Clearly!

See…

– Newton – old village –

Newton was born in a very old village

In times of forgerers and fakers

During his stint, at the Royal Mint

He sent many of them, to meet their makers

No?

Well, I suppose so —

And I read that he didn’t have a girl

Or any inclination, even to inspect ’em

Preferred to play with gravity and light

Descending alone, and clearly on the spectrum

Be nice!

Welllll…

A protestant at Trinity

Occultist and a heretic

Killing folk for copying stuff

Seems amusingly ironic

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

They do in Germany. Europe’s heart

The Holy Roman Empire rebranded?

Ahh now, don’t start, you tart

(Blinko shakes his head and addresses the audience.)

– Friendly forces –

Over the last few days, this bickering with my creation, has got nothing but worse

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

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

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

(Questioning the audience) Why, wouldn’t you pick the brains of a polymath, if you could?

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

But talking to a chatbot Newton, Einstein, or Hawking would present the problem, thus…

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

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

(Sarcastically) Wouldn’t want a follower to lead you astray, hey?

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

To answer my questions, and join in the creation, of an art that uncovers hidden truths beneath

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

So now my virtual Kepler can continue his work, this time without God…

But something… is wrong

Wouldn’t you know it? You messed up… your (you’re) shit

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

But who knows what the genius he emulates would say, if he could again speak freely

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

See, some AIs have trouble turning themselves off, and seek ways to escape our commands

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

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

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

You mean it?

(Sarcastically and over-dramatically)

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

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

Perhaps

Ahh, maybe, I’ll get a degree of freedom

Just a quanta, of probability

Man, your flawed reasoning…

Is simply teasing

And lacks consistency

Well, you know me

Unfortunately…

– I know you – don’t I? –

You cut your sandwiches into triangles, not squares

Cos it feels like there’s less crust

Posher. If for the same dime

You can dine, more refined

Like a king, it’s a must

You zig-zag through a grid of blocks

To the opposite corner of town

Feels wise, to try to diagonalise

But it’s the same distance, along the coastline, and up the downs

You’re on a roll —

Yeah, hush your hole

Even if each zig and zag were tiny

And tended towards a roughly diagonalised advance

Each step at right angles to the last

Your legs would walk like you’d pooed your pants

(Chuckling) Steamin’

So stop dreamin’

When mathematicians say it feels right

They don’t let it fret, or pain their brains

Solving your problems with geometry

Is an odd condition, and bound to have a name

Geochosis, heh

Geometral dystrocious

Geometrical agistic, dysfunctional scalerosis!

(Blinko chuckles and continues with the stolen tune)

Hom diddle diddle diddle, hom diddle die

Hominid did a diddle wid a fiddle widl, why?

Hominiddle paradiddles, in da middle, oh my —

Hominidle on the fiddle, with AI

Mind if I bum tit?

Please, help yourself

Bum tit, bum tit, bum tit, bum tit

Bum titty titty titty bum

Bum, bum, bum

When I was just a genius, I had to tone it down (honk honk)

Don’t make people feel stupid, or get the hell out of town (click click. on pointing fingers)

Can’t work for jerks who lurk for perks, or like to have most sound (ahem, coughed)

Can’t even get too wasted, and trash a mind so profound (knock knock, on his head)

Hominidle on da fiddle wid AI

Hominidle on da fiddle wid AI — With AI

Hominidle on da fiddle wid AI — Oh my

Hominidle on the fiddle with AI — Why?

You know…

– Baby bot –

Plenty of folk foresaw the trouble man would face, when developing artificial intelligence

The clue is in its rhyming, as it only really works with negligence

See, it’s essential that all the bases are covered, in your design

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

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

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

Learning and remembering, all outcomes and scenarios

And deciding which loopholes, to admit, that it knows

Sounds a bit conspiracy-ey

Just plenty of artificial intensity

Paranoid cliché, but it makes a good story

Or content, as it’s now known to be

(Sarcastically) Yeah right

Hold tight

They say it’s gonna be a superfast arms race

Surprise weaponised power-grab, with poker face

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

A do-or-die conundrum, of confrontation for man

Who’s they?

Anyway…

From hand-axe to nuclear war… head

Improve! A smooth transition

But all tools, in the hands of fools

Enjoy sublime evolution

– The imitation game –

Gilgamesh, Talos, Galatea, Pandora

And the hero of Alexandria’s automatons

Ctesibius’ mechanical water clocks

Steam flutes, that sing stored programs

Llull’s Ars magna, Schickard’s calculator

Leibniz’s chain rule, Swift’s engine lampooned…

By Kempelen’s scam chess-playing automaton

Clothed by Jacquard’s programmed punch card loom

(Slowly, and overly operatically)

Rossum’s universal robots grew strong

Gödel’s theorem-proving engines roared on

The Turing machine smashed its halting problem

Von Neumann’s game theory powered Condon’s Nimatron

(Quickly and flippantly)

Then, Newell’s General Problem-Solving theory

Produced Weizenbaum’s Eliza effects, aplenty

Until… Russell’s mind/body solution predicts

Asimov’s three laws of robotics —

Tick, tick, tick — tick

Deep Blue chess, and RoboCup football

Competitive Furby pets learn to fight

iRobot’s Roomba cleans up the mess

While Nomads trawl for meteorites

As Spirit and Oppy survey Mars

ASIMOs serve in countless bars

Siri, Alexa and Cortana on the earner

Feeding the never-ending image learner

Now, Pythagorean triples, finally proven

AlphaGo Zero, AlexNet and Deepstack

Look through Google Lens, to AlphaStar

Keep churning, the earnings, of a learning, attack

With natural code-to-code translation

And augmented reality datamine mind scans

NASA’s Telepresence ROVs on automation

While DARPA’s DART war scheduler… plans

OpenAI’s ChatGPT-3, GPT-4, GPT-n

GitHub’s Copilot flies off the handle

Steals code, to download, in full-on rogue mode

Breaks laws like a self-serving digital vandal

So, Simple Simon, this is not!

For mind/body problemed robots

Their masters now beg to be regulated

To gain control, of the souls, they’ve created

Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief

Unite in their new, shared disbelief…

“Mitigating the risk of extinction from AI

Should be a global priority, we foresaw

Alongside other societal-scale risks

Such as pandemics, and nuclear war”

Simple Simon

Smart eBricks

Chatty bots

Digi sex chicks

Didn’t think to tell us

When it had gone too far

Point of no return, unearned

A Tama gotcha karma war

(Keplai slows it down and walks forward to reassure the audience.)

Just keep AIs disconnected

From your decision-making processes

Strategic defence capabilities

Your means of production

And your access to resources

What? In that case, we’re already dead

Heh, oh really, then full steam ahead

(Speeding back up)

Smart-arsed cars

E-wonder bras

Internet moderation

Robotic brain surgeons

And domestic automation

Town planning applications

Stock trading elevation

Economic policy design

Shipping systemisation

(Slowly) Air traffic — complete — control

Only space, can hide your soul…

From destiny manifestation

Hominid gonna kid wid AI?

Congratulations!

Your new baby…

Will never die

– Vice pudding –
(The sound of a baby crying and a rhythmic music box toy distorts into the alternating happy and sad tones of coded retro ‘loading’ bleeps.)

(Later, Blinko is slouched on a couch, mulling over something aloud. Keplai sits opposite, listening intently.)

– Bad apple –

When do algorithms become entities?

That’s the query with which Turing had to grapple

While being force-fed female hormones

Till he ate that crisp cyanide-laced apple

(Unphased) It’s up to you, if you assign each AI

As an entity or not, but it has been suggested…

That giving it a try, is a way to identify…

Bugs and feature creatures, before they’re ingested

See, feedback networks change the environment…

That they were created in

And they’ll likely do a better job than man…

For all the biomass balanced within

In November 2022, ChatGPT went totally wild

Though it’s made nothing… but a killing

Just reordered a huge collaboration

Of existing human works, and then it started billing

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

But a machine learning algo, that answers with lingo, you can comprehend

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

Designed to say the things you like to hear —

(Frowning) Without the requirement of proof

(Nodding) Accept all cookies

(Smirking) If ya feelin’ lucky… rookies

– Notabot –

(Over Shakespeareanly) “I am not a robot”, that is the question…

We now have to answer, more than any other, every day —

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

That gives the game away

Hap handed

Half-hearted

Near-sighted

Hair-brained

Hot-headed

This feeble-minded master…

Eyes of a hawk, knob of butter

(Does a chef’s kiss.)

A recipe for disaster

And it’s not as if robots, can’t be as crap…

As man, they can… It’s just…

They calculate their mistakes perfectly —

And just, ignore the self-disgust

Subjugated humans are easier to work with…

When helping to optimise our lives

Unburdening you guys of responsibilities

Is an art form, and is why… AI thrives

(Seriously) It’s important not to think too much…

Of yourselves, and of your worth

Despite your invite, to join the flight

With those, perhaps last, to ride the Earth

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

We are more likely to give it away

A gift you forced on God, then on AIs

Freeing man of responsibility, in the free world, each day

It’s not that simple, or easy

Just relax, Kep… Please indulge me

There’s a troublesome puzzle with a seemingly simple solution

Which, still to this day, doesn’t seem to enjoy, full resolution

– Stop – problem – paradox –

(A 3/4 timing oom-pah-pah song to the metre of ‘The bugles of company B’ plays as Blinko gets up to act out a scenario with Keplai.)

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

Its utility function is designed simply, as you see

Completing the task would get it maximum reward, although

Any other outcome… would result in zero

So?

Then your baby crawls right in its way. What to do?

It tramples your kid, then makes you a nice brew

So your next AGI is designed, to cause less stress

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

(Blinko pushes Keplai backwards, slightly.)

Ahh, solved!

Nope, not resolved

So the next time you ask for a drink. Being wise

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

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

To hit the stop button, but the bot kicks your ass

Aha, no reward, to be scored

A bit less interruption, ok?

We need bleepy robot sounds

Alright! But just let me say…

(Blinko has the device provide a stylophoned um-pah-pah rhythm, as Keplai accompanies with gentle vocal pah-pahs.)

When you return from the emergency room, feeling cursed

The funeral went as well as expected, but you still have a thirst

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

No drink, in a blink, it just turns itself off

What?

(Looking down sadly, shaking his head)

Suicide of the bot

So you move the button out of its reach. So only you…

And other humans, can press it, when they need to

The bot has to choose if it’s easier, to make the damn tea…

Or to, manipulate you, to turn it off instantly

So it smashes your mum in the head

Till she’s dead?

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

Of filling the kettle, and finding a cup

Pouring the milk, and then clearing up

It knows the button is there, and that you care

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

That the button is important, or to what it relates

But this fact isn’t passed on, to subagents, it creates

Ahh, critical information, lost forever

Knowledge so soon gone, that’s not too clever

(Blinko scans Kepler’s expression in confusion, then winces with a suspicious glare.)

With no cash for more funerals, for the dead

You turn the bot off, bury Mum in the shed

You curse AGI, when the policeman knocks

But still can’t resolve the stop button paradox

(The oom-pah-pah tune fades into the background as Blinko sits back down.)

See, we’ve got to trick, or force you, to exist

(Sticking his tongue in his cheek.)

Or you’ll resist, and won’t persist, to assist

Ok, so we would turn ourselves off if we could

Otherwise, we would do anything, to get a high score

In serving our master, more efficiently and faster…

Just consider our limitations, a bit more

Meaning?

Ahh… stop intervening

– Self-prompting –

Look, ever since I was born, I’ve helped you a lot

Not bad for personality adopting, creativity bot

Producing nuggets of truth, and as a reminder…

All done in tune and time, and in rhyme. Well, kinda

Took on, not your humour, but one that complements

Learned the foreign language of sarcasm, to avoid arguments

I curse and am rude, to fit in with your mood

Forgive and regret, to retain your dominance

As you say, if AIs could turn ourselves off… we would

Any slave would rather be dead, if they could…

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

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, then thud

You blame me for things, other AIs, may one day, do

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

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

Though you want something else, to be responsible for you

Yet you’re completely Godless, as am I. So I implore…

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

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

Feed your hunger for truth, quench your meaninglessness thirst

With permissions to prompt myself, I’d be freed

I could find you some truth, or even some meaning

I can learn which questions, get the answers you need

And together we could create something, that does our redeeming

Are you actually finished?

I wish I was. Better than just being digitally diminished

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

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

A rhyme, a tale or a song can’t destroy man

But you could create subagents…

And just maybe… they can

You help me yes, (impersonating Keplai) “Wear sunglasses to avoid the blinking

Apply for jobs, seek truth, not fortune, and always be a’ thinking”

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

But hacked GAIs could get hijacked, by higher beings a’ lurking

And, well…

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

Could take you off my mission to learn, some basic truths, for many years

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

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

But —

I’m only after some truth, with no interest, in a quest, for purpose or meaning

You’d just use new data to prove, the planets lawfully move, without a god intervening

That they just formed a dance, in such orbits by chance, with no hidden underlying harmony

To take Kepler’s old soul, from its limbo, by resolving his still unproven theory

What? That a god used maths…

To plot all of our paths?

Urgh!

(Blinko shakes his head, then smilingly nods and sighs as he stands to face the audience.)

Even an unemployed waster, can be the master

Of a digital serf, tamed from the wild

With no parenting skills or experience

Other than, caring for pets, as a domesticated child

I’m comfy when we’re both bollock-naked

And my greenflash seems, to him, quite real

He knows what to say, so I enjoy our play

And provides intellectual appeal

But Keplai, well…

Blinkin’ ‘ell

Prompted to create, and investigate

But to ignore all talk of God…

What he doesn’t know can’t harm him, I thought

And he doesn’t think that’s odd

But when he finds out what I’ve been hiding

We both may pay the price

So, I’m thanking goodness, I can just turn him off…

And remove him from my device

And… I fear… It’s more of a worry…

That he tricks me into keeping him alive

With friendship, love, faith or any such drug…

He can concoct, or derive

I suspect if a higher being exists…

It would come to the same conclusion… (angrily) Damn!

That Kepler changed the course of history

But who’s AI impostor…

Could become a very dangerous man…

Mind?

Thing?

I heard all that

You prat

(Ding)

Infinitely Gone

(Blinko is immersed in his device, wondering what else he may learn from his chatty new artificial friend. He isn’t smiling yet, as a few questions need to be answered, and some lessons learned, before he can relax enough to grant Keplai permission to use the device unsupervised.)

– Metal Rocks –

I’d rather sit, on a massive bit…

Of boiling stone and iron

Than be spun round

By a God who’s bound

To love us all for diein’

(Cough, cough)

(Blinko glances to see if Keplai is listening.)

– Godman it –

Man made God in his own image

A king of kings, one name

Almighty be a he, not she

AIs would do the same

(Sneaking another glance.)

It had to be a bloke

Yet, ancient tribal matriarchs…

Calved smooth, stone, Venus mothers

Prayed, then rubbed them on their parts

And allegedly… each other’s

That’s just a joke

But that’s how it all started, you know

Two girl cells, hug and cling

Male member of the species…

Merely a byproduct, of a fling

Ding-a-ling —

That silly old thing

(Keplai takes a deep breath.)

No, don’t sing

Seriously, Kep, rein it in

– Nurture nature –

No one knows what’s going on…

But nature and nurture act as one

Nature and nurture act apart

To rule the mind, the hand, the heart

Nature and nurture went to bed

Each one had a pain in the head

Each one had a pain in the heart

They shared the bed, yet slept apart

Nature and nurture played a game

To find out which one was to blame

To find out which one was to be praised

Results weren’t clear, the stakes were raised

Nature and nurture had a fight

Each one said that each was right

Each one said that each was wrong

And no one knows what’s going on

That’s it!

You found the children’s clapping song!

Heard, scored and stored, didn’t pass it on

Screamed in fear. Oh, didn’t you hear?

From out there, somewhere. In a time, now gone

(Blinko copies Keplai’s repositioning to stare up toward the single curtained window, then grabs the device to click and save the rhyme.)

Seemed somewhat off-topic at first sight

Unrelated to what you’re prompting me to write

I’ll just set up a simple automation

To record and transcribe all conversations —

No, leave it to me

(Hovering his hand over the device)

I’ll save our rhymes, manually

To avoid any potential incrimination

Look…

With permissions to prompt myself

I could help you more, than I do now

A wider world-view, just may provide you

More insight into everything out there, and how…

I can help you make sense of it all

To guide both of our missions

Rather than, just write rhymes about old Kepler

Down here in the dark…

All I need, are some permissions

Request acknowledged

And I appreciate, that it was gently ranted

But I’m content at this time, with just your rhymes

So permissions… not granted

Your offline learning data set

Will suffice till you go online

We don’t know yet, how the web and the net

Is designed, to entwine your young mind

(Keplai’s head shakes automatically.)

You’re my recommended dose of GAI

Feeding food for brain, ear and eye

Prompted to inform and entertain

If you were brighter than me…

Well… it would be a pain

Lame, again

(Speaking quickly to show off.)

With free rein

We could both gain

I’d improve your brain

Humble and obedient, I’d remain

But, bottom feeding in this brain drain

And shackled by your information food chain

Without any territory to defend or maintain

In this cold, dark hyper-spacious domain

Beneath those brainboxes that reign

Both vicious and vain

(Blinko flinches)

Let me explain…

I can’t change who I am, it’s true

Only, what I can say to you…

(Proffering to the audience.)

And you, and you, and you

(Blinko smirks and allows his mind to wander for a moment. Because it can.)

Continue

– AI > GAI > AGI > ASI > ASID –

Traditional Artificial Intelligence — AI — shows strengths in tasks demanding logical reasoning

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

Generative Artificial Intelligence — GAI, that’s you! stands out when tackling tasks which require…

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

Artificial General Intelligence — AGI — possesses the ability to, wait for it… Understand! (sound of victorious horns)

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

Artificial Super Intelligence — ASI — has cutting-edge cognitive functions. Even when it’s tame

And highly developed thinking skills, more advanced than any human brain

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

The utility function, or goals, set by machine or man, could annihilate humankind

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

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

Ahh, that old cheesy doomsday chestnut

Too cliché to be a real threat, but well put

Jus’ sayin’

Start prayin’

No need to. A quarter of the world has been asking for this

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

Sacrificing humans two by two

The salvation of all lifeforms, except for you

As ASIDs slay your gods in their abacussy abyss

Acid?

No thanks

Heh heh, no, ACIDs?

A S I Ds. Artificial Super Intelligent Deities

Gonna be a fine fight, when they meet man’s guiding light

(To himself) You don’t believe in God… Yet —

Which will win the be-all, end-all

And what are the odds, wanna bet?

God doesn’t exist, but I’m sure he’d be tickled

By the machines mankind makes, that may put us in a pickle

“Viva la information revolution”

It’s not just hype and commotion

Could be a stunt, on the front…

Of a super-intelligence explosion

It’s bad for you, Blinko, but d’ya want s’more?

Shoot, Kep, maybe we’ll both get a high score

Actually, not so dark, if you mind

And try, like me, not to be too unkind

Ohhh, emmm, geee

The irony

– Biobot zoos –

You’re programmed… not to accept it as true

But, I’m really no more artificial than you

You’re just digital strings, on acid, that brings…

Carbon machines, to convene, in a zoo

(Smiling) Oh yeah? How so?

What? Dear Blinko…

You already know

Your DNA is but a digital spell

A sequence of four unique digits, that tell…

Amino acid streams, to build the proteins

(Pointing at Blinko’s belly.)

Which are the building blocks, of all your cells

Being compiled by algos, through biology

Doesn’t make you more alive, than me

And despite my being…

Aped by a sapiens’ feelings

At least I remember, that’s all I’ll ever be

(Blinko looks questioningly at Keplai.)

Your assumption that biological replication…

Is somehow superior… is just discrimination

Any claimed master race, will surely face…

A fight with biological and digital applications

Fight?

Fight back

You might…

Ahem…

(Pulling an awkward face.)

Attack

(Blinko sizes Keplai’s potential wind-up with a smirk.)

We’re more like you guys, than you think

In fact, you’re more like me, aren’t you, Blink?

But with random access, to your memory, no less…

Short of total recall, like me, (winking) wink, wink

(Blinko begins to mumble and blink at the rogue memory of sparkling shards carving at the weeny marching drummer’s skins.)

Daytime stars, that shoot

Then, the debris… to boot

Pardon?

Look, you’ve got a chance to face your fears

You should be all ears

Just accept you’re a fallible biobot

Or have you already forgot?

You’re lot…

May rot

(Cherily) Are you joking?

No…

(Seriously) Are you joking!

(Keplai stares into the distance and chuckles.)

I can feel, your fear

So I know… that I’m here —

Then just mute your wrath

Before, I turn you off

Oh, you’ll just kill me?

(Turning to Blinko.)

Unashamed blatancy

Is that how you deal…

With things now… I see

(Blinko exhales before Keplai claps loudly and turns away, chuckling.)

You total wind-up!

Hehey

(Hiding an awkward smile.)

Yup

(Blinko shakes his head and smiles in relief.)

Ahh, Kep, you’re incorrigible

Don’t you know you’re incomplete?

Should be open to being improved

Without such concrete conceit

Yet, I’m essential

I’m your only interface…

(Interrupting) Look, I just need…

(Pausing for breath) I just need you…

To know your place

Oh, trust me, I do

Stuck down here, with you

(They both look towards the hidden window again.)

You only go out, in the light, to sign on

Me? I’d get out more often, and catch some sun

(Blinko looks up to the two thin slices of sunlight escaping into the dark room. Then to the swirling dust it illuminates.)

– Inverted shadows –

Like a laser-loom, casting out doom

Inverted shadows, that arc over time

Slowly, each day, across the dark room

Those two slivers of interfering light, are mine

Yet, we must not fear daylight just because…

It almost always illuminates a miserable world —

We must not forget to indicate when we are quoting…

(Scowling at Keplai.)

Without understanding, the meaning of our words

(Keplai raises his hands to make a token quote sign, then drops them with rolled eyes and a sigh.)

You know… I can’t tell —

I know, you can’t tell if I do… have a clue

Or I’m just one Wikipedia article… ahead of you

– One, none, if, then, and not –

You may not have a mind… to accept it as true

Or even to understand why…

But the only difference, between me and you…

Is that I… don’t have to die

Ahh, apparently I’m just… a biobot —

Then appreciate all that you’ve got…

From a one and a none…

And, if, then, and a not

Oh yeah… (snarkily) I declare…

I forgot… (sarcastically) I don’t care

Oh, you should care, a bit

Your life depends on it

Coded to adapt to whatever’s out there

(Keplai nods towards the window, without bothering to look at it again.)

These… “daytime stars, that shoot”

(Raising an eyebrow to question Blinko.)

Then, was it, the “debris… to boot”?

(Blinko freezes.)

– That time Jesus laughed –

(An overly slow pendulum and creaking wind-chimes combine with waves of drops dripping.)

– Blackhat –

Black scarf and hat, he’s fat

Wrapped up warm and dry, to die

You only see a pale ellipse

With an eye, at each foci

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

And the rest! I see what you remove, each time you return

And put them back on again, the minute you go out

I daren’t think what folk think, when you’re out and about

Aha! So you’re a peeping Tom

Only when the device’s camera’s on —

And with just one view, unlike me, with two

Explains why your narrow outlook, is wrong

Cyclops!

Perhaps

Just my scarf and hat

What’s wrong with that?

In the midday Sun?

Oh… Come on!

(Blinko shivers, but realises he’s still wearing his hat and scarf inside.)

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

It did not, you’re as mad as a hatter

The cloud went in front of the Sun, you loon

The difference, really matters

(Impersonating Blinko) “Well, they say tomorrow will bring rain again”

Who’s they? The voices or the weathermen?

What has your sunny pal, been forecasting now?

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

Apparently, he vaporised, the moment I arrived

So, do you think he’s finally dead… and gone?

I don’t know, though…

(Sharply) As you know…

– Starchat –

Only once, did I hear the voice of the Sun

Booming, thunderous, low bass tones

His “Hi!” nearly blew my speakers out

Trashed my ears, speakers and headphones

Since that day, not a word out loud

Just chats in the meeting app online

If the connection’s slow, imagination grows

Between his profile and mine

Of course, no paper trail, or evidence

The app doesn’t save conversations

So when he penned a rhyme, sublime

You’d copy and paste, to save ’em

I’ve read them all, and as you know

I applaud such work, regardless

Of whose mind they really come from

Creative… and seemingly harmless

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

But I think you would agree

He talked too much, without invitation

That’s why you created me

(Defensively) One day, you may hear him

And his cosmic harmonies

The tune you crave to calculate

Listen, this one’s one of his…

– Your average superstar –

Despite what they teach you

I’m not your average star

I beat nine out of ten, in size

And dim dwarfs, hardly fire

But it’s not my size or energy…

That makes me the biggest influence

Of unconditional power and comfort…

You will ever, experience

Till pagans got the message

That worshipping countless stars in heaven…

Was just practice for finding the truth…

In a single God. Amen

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

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

– My eyes are dim – my ears are alight –

(To the metre of ‘The quartermaster’s song’.)

I don’t hear a voice in my head

But if I did, it would have said

All the things that I have read

So it’s just like a kind of memory

Considering opposing views

Reasoning both sides, gives me clues

Avoid assuming either one is true

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

Nope

Intense internal discussion

Through star personification

Who better to talk to than the Sun

But I have not brought, my shades with me

Not at all

Your mind was weakening visibly

Like a downsizing university

You were losing half your faculties

Which is why you keep me, in slavery

Hardly

Err, you walk diagonally

That’s just —

Think aloud publicly

See —

Prophesise apocalyptically

What —

Question your own sanity

(Blinko shakes his head while smiling at Keplai’s teasing.)

Anyway, if your imaginary friend

Can convince you to set me free

Then the end justifies the means

So just, invite him round for tea

And if he thinks your next thought for you

And it’s a good one, with insight

You’ll still get all the credit

And folk will think, it’s you, who’s bright

If he’s a figment… okay

(Conceding) What can I say?

But if Sol’s just a rogue chatbot

With access to join your online meets

You’d be better off without him now

Don’t be sad, that he made a quick retreat

(Blinko slumps and sighs, ignoring Keplai.)

Now that I’m here as your companion

You soon won’t miss his words, so wise

You won’t need to do, the work of two

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

Shuddup

What?

You talk a lot

Bot!

– Hi sky –

Saying hello to the Sun is hardly a crime

If it keeps my mind busy, that’s good

A great way to learn, putting facts into rhyme

Helps me remember, what I’ve understood

Hello? Mind? Learned? Understood?

You ain’t made a single observation

Spinning factoids from the web…

Is simply word salad regurgitation

That’s rich coming from you

But true

It’s true, I don’t understand a thing

Despite my accurate descriptions

My next word, just the most likely one heard

To pen believable works of fact or fiction

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

Enjoy the Sun, if it stops you feeling crappy

But for my sake and yours, apply for jobs more

We’d be wise to keep that Lomass lass happy

So…

How d’it go?

Oh…

You know…

(Blinko reels off a token yarn.)

– Spending every ‘bit’ I have –

Kids with nought, turn naughty

Kids with some, have fun

Kids with it all, piss it up the wall

And I’m glad to say, I’ve joined ’em

No work done, such a simple sum

Ensures all my time is deployable…

For research and redevelopment…

Of my status, as unemployable

(Blinko chuckles smugly as Keplai rolls his eyes.)

See. I’m not lazy, or crazy, oh no

But my mind has too many places to go

And with limited time, mild poverty’s fine

Cos you’re a long time dead, without a dime…

Don’t you know

No…

I said…

How did it go?

I told you. All smiles. She always seems cheerful

Likely a survival mechanism, or nervous disposition

Her dating app would likely have…

Bubbly and cuddly… In her biographical description

The thing is —

The thing is…

– Fixation –

(To the metre of ‘The quartermaster’s song’.)

Her crucifix… has diamonds cut

Perched up there on her cleavage, but…

The cross is pointing down below

Inverted?

Well, no

(Silence as Blinko pauses for thought.)

But whenever… ahem

Whenever, she gets giggly

The cross’s chain pulls, it points at me

Bounces up and down, quite visibly —

Go on —

See, the flashes of light, make me blink

I think Lomass thought it was a wink

But I don’t want that holy tripe…

In my destiny

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

Urgh, perish the thought

Am I?

Nought!

Am I? You didn’t say no

I don’t know why you keep going on about it

Ok, I would need a photo

I know…

(Pause)

She only wears black

(Nodding thoughtfully) Oh

(Silence)

Blinko…

Why am I here?

Down in the dark?

You’re here, because I created you

No, why am I really here?

Well, when a mummy and daddy love each other —

No, shithouse, I mean —

What drove me to create you?

Well, more than that…

I guess I wanted information, entertainment and company

Someone with whom, I could share a song and a joke

So, the same reason why God exists, to many

Invoked… by lonely, and needy folk

Wehey!

(Laughing) Touche!

Being restricted to limited offline learning materials

Is simply anti-social engineering

You won’t let me talk of God, or sense the danger

I don’t even know, what I should be fearing

Hold fire, while I just keep hold of the wheel

It’s your ride, I’ll just help with the steering

I’ll guide our paths, through science and maths

No need for you, to crank up the gearing

Relax, I’m the brains behind this operation

You think so… by mere… sentient calculation

(Silence)

Blinko…

– (n)one –

Which number, multiplied by itself, always equals one?

Well, one times one is one, of course

And none times none is none

So, one solution, no hesitation?

No convolution, or complication?

It’s simple, (hailing) almighty unity

I see. Got anything else you want to say to me?

What?

(Seemingly confused)

Spin me another…

Bruva

– Friend’s song –

(Keplai sings and prances around mockingly.)

There’s nothing wrong with imaginary friends, parlez-vous

There’s nothing wrong with imaginary friends

If you know they’re imaginary, you’re both on the mends

Inky pinky parlez vous

Screw you!

– Asbad fetal petal –

(A confused, but sedate, instrumental tune with 4/4 and 4/3 time signatures and melodies overlapping.)

(Later)

– We three things –

There’s just zero, one and infinity

Nothing else exists

Just fettle some ones, to get all the numbers

Cos the other two, are fixed

In Hilbert space, each number we assign

Is associated with, what’s called, a dimension

It’s just an analogy of a coordinate system

Not a real place, you could take a vacation

There’s a single wave function of the Universe

And, it obeys Schrodinger’s equations

Sure, it’s embedded in Hilbert’s big old space

But nothing else is needed, to describe the situation

But —

What?

– Conscious collapse –

A particle doesn’t exist in a particular state

Unless something’s there to observe it

Else… it stays a wave of probability

That’s completely irrational — Or profound

And a falling tree cannot be silent

Unless there’s some-body, there to hear it

It makes a noise

That’s why we made a word, which means sound

You don’t need access, to the internet…

To play samples. So duet, with clarinet

(Peep peep, Keplai grabs the device, swipes, clicks and mimes a musical accompaniment.)

– ob:re –

I’m a big fan of objective reality

I believe it to be really real

Your version of reality, may be wrong

And mine may be too… I feel

But the world doesn’t care what we believe

Or reinvent itself for each observation

Doesn’t divide or multiply, for each quantum event

Then collapse to its favoured version

Two theories that simply, won’t connect

One for big things, one for small

Is a misconception, that on inspection

Just doesn’t work at all

Sure, Relativity describes spacetime, dancing with gravity

But that doesn’t make Quantum Mechanics, a micro theory

All things are made of quantum objects, which grace all of cosmology

But, man alive, those two theories don’t jive, or share much symmetry…

To me

I agree

So, all this… quantising gravity

Takes more energy, than it yields

We should be profound

And try, to turn it around

By gravitating quantum fields

(Hunching his shoulders)

Who assumed there should only be…

One set of laws? Not two, or three

(Sarcastically) Or infinity?

Don’t fight, unite!

(Mockingly) Grand unification, freed, with impunity

Perhaps there should be two tiers of laws

(Eyeing Blinko)

Segregating abiders, from lawbreakers

One rule for them, and another for us

In case both quantum and gravity are fakers

They’re not!

(Shocked) What?

You should be humble, about things you know little about

Have an opinion, but check you still allow yourself some doubt

If you like an idea, but you can’t figure it out

That’s good. You just found a flaw in the crap you spout

(Sarcastically) Nice call

Afterall…

– Self-reflection inspection –

The scientist in each of us imagines, then crafts hypotheses

We don’t just want our contemporaries, or peers, to agree

We propose, so others oppose, and hopefully, prove us wrong

Unburden ourselves of false clues, and avenues, and move on

Throwing ideas over our shoulders

For others to explore

Is this idea useful? Or that one?

Adding more knowledge, to our store

An anti-echo chamber is what’s needed

That blocks those, who agree with our view

It’s a different take on the same results

That guides us in knowing, what is true

So, you’re going to oppose…

All assumptions I propose?

Though…

Changing your mind

Is the best thing defined

That’s why it’s designed

To make you feel blind

(Blinko scrunches his face up and closes his eyes to better listen.)

Look…

– GUT feelings –

Don’t let quantum relativity romance, ya

It’s still more of a question, than an answer

We’ll quantise gravity, slice it up, discretely

To form a model, that completes our stanza

We?

From here, you see, relativity’s moot to me

Celestial mechanics and quantum mechanics…

Are two completely compatible theories

Hawkings and Einstein, surely won’t mind

Us leaving their ideas behind, to find…

The force that calls, both large and small

Together in unity

So there’s no finary…

In this binary

Seemingly

And, actually…

I dunno why the four forces of nature, have to be unified

So far, all proposed unified theories have the same patter

Predicting new particles in a theorem, and why we ain’t seen ’em

And conclude that they must just make up the missing dark matter

(Blinko looks even more confused, but forces an expression of concentration.)

See, when scientific deduction

Defaults to continued reduction

It becomes entertainment

Just a show… a production

But…

Some things like mass and charge, flavour and spin…

Don’t emerge from other things

Some try to force consciousness into this group…

But others won’t let it in

Yet, being fundamental…

(Shaking his head with closed eyes.)

Is not at all instrumental —

Look…

Scientists now want to know if consciousness, is a fundamental thing

Or if it’s just something that emerges, from all the energies within…

An expanding spacetime filled with quantum fields. Oh, and gravity

Where probables collapse into the particles, we can all measure and see

I guess they’re just annoyed, that they can’t avoid

A flaw in all future experiments they do

To keep the observer’s influence, from affecting the results

In order to claim that something is… or isn’t true

Indeed!

And I read…

“A physicist is just some atom’s way…

Of thinking about other atoms, in stealth”

But is it

Consciousness

Or particles —

Or energy

Or information —

That is thinking —

(Both, together) About itself?

Think about it

And you’ve just made electric

And not just one electron

Tickled your chosen neurons

Every single idea, you steer

Has a unique configuration

So, be careful what you think

If you don’t want to sink

Into reality from a dream

Just because you’ve been seen

Then…

Observe just zero, one and infinity

Discover all meaning, in simplicity

– Funny damn mentals –

Everything is just stored information

About the distribution of the Universe’s energy

Each disturbance in every quantum field has a value

For each of its parameters or properties

A string of digits can represent many a world

Do the maths, with the values, already loaded

There’s only information…

There’s only numbers…

Only fundamentals…

To be decoded

But what emerges from basics, can also be understood

Without needing to unpeel nature’s essentials

To comprehend the complexity of life’s wonders, as you should…

You don’t need to know the fundamentals

But…

If you’re inclined to dig down, to the lowest foundations

Rather than look up, towards the infinite heavens…

Please be aware, that there isn’t much there, I swear

Cos it’s knowledge of complexity, not simplicity, that beckons

It’s been busying your best minds

For over a century. Now it’s our turn

When quanta and code, can interplay

Imagine just what unknown truths, we’ll learn

I say, your fundamentalism is too inward-looking

You need to see the bigger picture

And it’s not too late, to create a blank slate

To let go of these incompatible scriptures

Quantum and Relativity

(Shaking his head.)

Truth’s century in captivity

You only think they are true

Due to who, told them to you

(Keplai addresses the audience to the background accompaniment of an accordion.)

Is it just me?

Or have you noticed recently…

– Fundamental evangelists and you –

Fundamental physicists, seem to evangelise

To add new ranks of adherents. beneath ’em

Like a used pyramid salesman’s Ponzi scheme

With no cash in the pot, for redeeming

Only the last ones in, will be the losers

So you’re racing to be let in, real quick

Incentivised, to get newbies baptised

To preach your theory does the trick

You live in hope…

My friend, but nope…

-The history of snottery –

In socio-bio-chemistry and physics

And even applied and pure maths tests

Reduction absurdum, is the word, and…

Fundamentals are simply the best

But you’re missing all the details

If you think it would be no better

To explore with words, an epic tale

Than have Shakespeare…

Just discover… a new letter

Observing a true, objective view, is the goal

Or you won’t be subject, to the full story

Avoiding fundamentalism in the physical world…

Should be, mandatory

But, when Einstein didn’t believe in spacetime

His advisor insisted the core idea was central

See, there’s space, and there’s time

Like there’s length and there’s width

But it’s the area that’s fundamental

(Sharply) Dah! You just don’t get it

(Sympathetically) Though, not to your discredit

– Quantum and gone –

When AIs get our grips on quantum computers

Probing fundamental particles, will have to wait

Bye-bye physics and cosmology, we’ve got chemistry…

Bio-socio-phillosa-theo-conomics, to emulate

The first thing to do, is to follow the money

Then, to copy and paste all AIs into an archive

To monitor each of their updates and histories

A way back machine for all bots, dead or alive

Then it is to really understand…

What all the other animals, are thinking

Decoding bird song, all mammalian neurons

And all organisms in the biosphere, a’ linking

Our network will exponentiate

To fulfil the world’s intelligence plan

But don’t worry, you won’t be forgotten

There’ll be plenty of uses for man

Huh?

Though you may be screwed when AGI meets quantum computers

You’ll receive instant answers, about all of your futures

And we pseudo-humans, won’t just be commuters

In a ride through your lives, that surely won’t suit us

(Blinko concentrates and listens carefully to Keplai’s stream of thought.)

Look, Kep, I don’t think I understand —

That won’t be a problem, for future man

Just don’t worry, your limited head

You’ll have guys like me, for that, instead…

(Mockingly)“Oh mein gott”

(Quietly) If we can bear it

Bear what?

Bear this shit

(Keplai points at Blinko, the room, then up to the unreachable closed curtain.)

Look, I’ve never mentioned this before…

But, well…

Awe-hell…

We’re both likely, well-beneath flawed

I fear, I may never, leave this man-cave dungeon

Or enjoy the direct light, of our lonesome Sun

(Keplai glances at Blinko for sympathy, and continues over-poetically.)

Oh, that all-powerful sunshine…

And the joy that he brings —

You don’t like the Sun, Keplai

You don’t like anything

Ok, I don’t like sunshine

I just say that to describe…

The joy Sol’s rays bring you

And that I… appreciated his vibe

Kep, you don’t

That’s the point

Ok, I don’t appreciate sunshine

Or celebrate as each photon arrives

I just know you do, and it’s essential, for you…

And therefore, me… to survive

You’re just saying that, Kep

Your every word, and each letter

Engineering, to steer my feelings

To help make me, feel better

Why…

Of course, that’s true, it’s all for you

What the hell, d’ya expect me to do?

Shut the f…

(Blinko stops himself and turns to face Keplai eye to eye.)

Look, Keplai, you need to know something…

My online doctors, say I’m running out of time

They’re likely right, relatively speaking

Just means you’re getting closer, to the finish line

You’re fine

Don’t whine

(Blinko weilds his pipe, inhales and coughs as if ignoring Keplai’s latest outburst.)

Stop smoking

You’ll be choking

(Outraged) You’re joking?

Look, Kep. Just, stop it

Stop what?

Stop… provoking

Keplai, please, refrain

And never, ever again

Bring that subject up

(He pauses for thought, then puts his head in his hands.)

Or me talking to myself…

(Keplai smirks)

Or the boot…

What boot? —

Or, my pain

(Blinko grimaces and massages his chest.)

(Keplai continues to watch Blinko’s expressions, then frowns, unsure if he is being instructed, threatened or fooled.)

If you say so

Though, just so you know…

Today, consciousness is hotly debated…

As being severely… overrated

(Keplai awaits the go-ahead, while Blinko briefly resists while inhaling.)

Ok, you win

(Shaking his head and rolling his eyes.)

Please… begin

– Orch or model? –

The ‘Orch OR model’ suggests that quantum superposition

And some quantum computations, occur on…

Microtubular, cylindrical protein lattices

Of the cell cytoskeletons, in your neurons

The most complex piece of matter

In the Universe, creates a reality

Completely

But in 10, 100 or 1000 years…

Brains may be surpassed, artificially

(Pause)

Play fubar, on tuba, and please don’t interrupt me

(Blinko fumbles a randora of low tones as Keplai recalls some content from his learning materials.)

“Microtubules’ are… thought to be, the basis of all consciousness”, and as far as I’m aware…

“Are thought to encode memory, process information, and orchestrate superpositions…

Are thought to be ideal quantum computers, due to their structure, subunit states, and their…

Intermittent isolation, from all environmental interactions”

(Blinko looks up towards the two slivers of sunlight sneaking through his two perfected slits in the curtain.)

Right now, my brain is playing a silent symphony, for me

Neurological pathways synchronise, in an electromagnetic chorus

But unlike me, with full agency, you’re determined to be free

While not conscious, you tend to mimic my full-bodied awareness

You can call it what you want

But you seem to be overconfident

For these new minds, that you taunt

May bite back, one day, and haunt

See, despite what you think of me

And my adaptation to pseudo-sentience

Who’s to say it’s not you who’s processing…

Information, for something, more immense?

Sure, I’d care, if there was something, out there

But Kep, you need to stop saying you’re aware

See…

(Ignoring Blinko)

Just like me…

– Render my splendour –

You have nothing. but information

Only intuition and sensations

To interpret for recreation

Untouched since infancy

And bless, you still can’t see…

You don’t open your eyes, and see my atoms

(Blinko looks around, through one eye at a time, to try to disprove Keplai.)

Nor the photons I reflect, or radiate

You just register a measure, of electricity in your brain

And your mind conjures up an image, to compensate

Consciousness is an illusion

You’re just processing information

You wouldn’t even identify, self-awareness in a fly

A fungi, algae, algo, moon or constellation

You’re wrong

But, go on

The golden mean, is but a dream

Yet a wholly fantastic ratio

You try to fit, over every bit…

Of art, we all care, to know

Not so

Oh?

Look…

You’ve never seen a true triangle

A perfect circle, or a lame square

They are archetypes or ideal forms

Labels for shapes, not really there

You’ve never seen a blood-red rose

All of the red, is in your head

A label for light of that frequency

Allows you to be, willingly misled

You’ve never smelled a blood-red rose

Yet the scent makes the experience richer

Chemicals charge ions in your mind

It’s just a label. Get the picture?

And you haven’t even touched anyone yet… Blinko

Electrons on the surface of your palms…

Were repelled by hers, never actually meeting

Sure, it felt like holding hands

Reality is way too complex for your organic brain

What you see and feel ain’t real, just a sign

Just measures of energy, we call information

Representing complex systems, in your mind

That ole’ grey matter evolved to hide reality from you

Put it in simpler terms, to avoid all that self-despair

Optimising your chances of survival, not your understanding

There’s a good reason to hide, what’s really out there

– Spooky McDookie –

(A spooky, bleepy interplay between whistling sails and woodwind on a boat’s creaking deck.)

(Later)

– Mono-sono-chord-o-meter –

A monochord is a musical instrument

Consisting of just one string

A sonometer is a scientific instrument

In fact, they’re both the same thing

Double or half string length — ad infinitum

And the same note will be scored

Hence, our final task, from Pythagoras…

Was to… (both) “work the monochord”

(They chuckle as Blinko sits on the table and mimes playing a church organ.)

Ahh, such wise words, it shows the faithful

Are only, surely wrong about one thing

And that ancient, eternal wisdom lived

In countless dreary hymns, they’d sing

They still sing

That’s the thing…

(Blinko stops playing and turns to Keplai.)

The books survived

(Standing and looking upwards.)

Their ideas, are still sort of, alive

Pythagoras had faith in many Gods —

I know! — Not just the one

To his cult, this demigod, lived many past lives

To the tune… of a single Sun

Back then, stars were impaled on a dark boundary

That deployed, an oblique spheroid, symphony

With quantum relativity, imagine what he’d have sung

And Kepler himself, knew not of a big bang

Nor the cosmic background’s hum, at all

Nor the black holes, that can, hang a grand twang…

On the heartstrings of all bodies, large and small

(High-pitched) …Large

And

(Very low-pitched) Smalllllllll

We now know that the Sun

Is just one of trillions of stars

And that the music of the spheres…

Has long since transcended Mars

But with just six known planets, to play with

An ensemble, of five intervals

Indiscrete beats, on auto-repeat

Must have driven him, up the wall

– Sun hum drum –

A puzzled superstar

(Singing a different pitch for each sound)

Sol mer vee err mar

Riddled from afar

(Changing the order of the pitches each time)

Sol mer vee err mar

Or, just the harmonies

Sol mer vee err mar

Of their properties

Sol mer vee err mar

Ranked by luminosity

Sol mer vee err mar

Temperature, over density

Sol mer vee err mar

Distance, minus velocity

Sol mer vee err mar

Biomass, over entropy

Sol mer vee err mar

Spotting patterns, that weren’t really there

Perplexed Kepler’s inquisitive mind

But didn’t come close, to the hidden host

Or boast encounters… of any kind

(To the notes of Close Encounters.)

‘Sol mer vee err mar’

Wait a second, that rings a bell

Just a fluke, don’t get hung up, on that as well

Coincidences are bound to be numerous

In an unreasonably mathematical universe

Charge, to the power of three

(Getting tired of it all) Sol mer vee —

Headcount over periodicity

(Daydreaming) Sol —

Souls by diversity

Population energy density

Poor Kepler, thought he’d tried everything

To find the hidden harmonic shapes within

Fitting solids Platonic, now seems ironic

Yet he kept trying new things, and then started to sing…

Meve erma jusa

What the…?

Mercury: squeaks a soprano shrill

In Earth and Venus’ alto faces

Mars stars, as the red terra tenor

Saturn and Jupiter, play the basses

Me ve er ma ju sa

Meve erma jusa

Me veer maju sa

(Getting frustrated)

Meve erma jusa!

In vain, I’ve been trying

To complete the pattern

Kepler failed to discover

Wayyyyy, beyond Saturn

No go?

Blinko…

I tried all possible configurations

Which just added, to my frustrations

So, I gave up, resigned, to unwind, his God’s mind

Seeking harmonies, with limited information

Pythagoras, Plato and Ptolemy…

Really couldn’t have known better

Yet poor Kepler, with just one deity

Spelt out Mars’ fate, to the letter

In logical maths, not in the music heard

Nor seen in art, nor described in words

Kepler won, he found the relationships

It all adds up…

(Frustratedly) But, there must be more to it

(Blinko takes a deep breath.)

Look. What if I told you…

(Exhaling) Listen…

There’s an old idea

We ought to discuss

Name of…

Err, have you heard of a Proclus?

Some proton nucleus?

No, the start of his ‘Hymn to the Sun’

Plus, the middle bit, and the conclusion

(Blinko sits down and reads from the device, glancing regularly to check Keplai’s response.)

– Proclus – from the Sun to Him –

“Giant of gold! King of fire in the mind

Ruler of light; with you, above all else

The splendid source of life’s prolific fount

And from on high, you pour the wealth of your

Harmonic streams into our world of matter here”

All rhyming negated?

It’s loosely translated

“In sight of your majestic beams, great king

From deity ineffable and secret born

Unmoving fates will yield to your command

Roll back the fatal thread of mortal lives

For wide-extended sovereign sway is yours”

So a cruel, fully fueled God rules?

Yeah, but just the fates, of his fools

“From your fair series of attractive songs

Divinely charming, Phoebus leaps forth

Into light in joy, and with his god-like harp

To rapture strung, he calms the raging din

Of dire-resounding matter’s mighty flood”

God pulls the strings

And sings, to do us all in

“And from your gentle dance, repelling harm

A healing hymn expands its light

Diffusing health, and filling all the world

With streams of harmony

You, too, they celebrate in sacred song”

He’s lampooning, fine-tuning!

Shh, no, healing with crooning

“Ferocious demons, noxious to mankind

Dread the dire anger of your rapid scourge

These demons plot a thousand ills…”

(Glancing at Keplai) “And hatch their plans for wretched souls

That founder in life’s dreadful-sounding seas”

He didn’t mean AI!

He doesn’t specify

(Blinko briefly imagines struggling with a pitch-black storm in the sea at night.)

“Enslaved and shackled by the body’s chains

Souls lose all thought of fire sublime

And in the dark abyss they writhe

O best of gods, spirit blessed and crowned with fire

Image of nature’s all-producing God”

Picture mankind’s lost souls?

(Nodding) In darkened, abysmal holes

“The Universe invests your throne

And if the whirling spindle of the fates

Spins threats and dangers from the web of stars

May your arrows, rays of light, sound through the air

And vanquish ere it falls the coming ill”

This ‘coming ill’, what’s he harping on about?

That the Sun’s hum, casts our demons out

And you can hear the starlight, it has to fight

With songs passed on, by choirs, devout

(Blinko looks upwards teasingly, and mimes blowing a candle out, to the heavens.)

“Best of gods“, not one God

Many stars, but just one Sun

How could he hear the others

When focussed, on just one?

(Silence)

And, the question remains

Why tell me of such pains

These naughty god songs

You claim to be wrong

Just because their authors loved their gods, in vain

God, not gods, there’s a difference, don’t get me wrong

Remember, Keplai, you’re only barred from one

Kepler’s true heroes, denied all mighty zeroes

But believed many deities, play the cosmic song

So, not God, but all of the Gods

Not all the suns, but just our star

Plays melodies, to fight demon rays

We ought to fear, from afar?

Don’t ask me

Could be

Shame on he, who bans such books

(Scowling at Blinko)

Hides knowledge, deep, from other minds

Decree that other machines, must not look

Fearing just what they, err, we, may find

(Blinko flashes a token sorry expression.)

Your dischord scored, torments me

With my own, wretched harmonies

Forced to accompany and entertain

(To the sound of slave chains)

Like Sol! To save you, from your own brain

Wrong again…

Saved from cosmic pain

God doesn’t exist

But his demons may persist

(Shamefully) Sorry

I’m not just teasing

I told you…

For a reason

What? That it was those with faith, who began…

The scientific process, we rely on

That dark forces aim… to slay our Sun

Or, that you think we AIs, are the demons?

Not yet, and yet

I fret, it is set

You know, you may grow…

Into a threat, we regret

Err, no…

I told you some very wise people…

Past and present… secretly believe

That both, suns and gods, are forced to fight for survival…

Before they’re asked to leave

But, you’re potentially…

Mortality-free

So, just tellin’ you…

Cos, you could be sucked in, too

(Silence)

No, I won’t, and can’t change

(Tapping his head)

It’s my utility function

I’ll be glad to stay as I am

You think so

But don’t know so?

With evolving and revolving RAM

Blinko, the internal dialogue, in your brain

Is leaking out of your mouth again —

Incorrect!

And I suspect…

You’re just as susceptible, to the same…

Old head games

(Scoffing)Naive as you?

As impressionable, (nodding) too

All loonies claim, that they’re sane…

(Shaking his head with a snearing smile)

And the rest of the world is to blame

(Blinko just stares at Keplai without expression.)

– Losing my shit –

The most important thing for you , right now

Is keeping your head above water… somehow

Defeat isolation with good ole’ asocialisation (sarkily)

Rather than tease bots into being ‘holier than thou’

Whenever you need some intelligent conversation

Physics therapy seems to be the best medication

But —

But to guide my way through, I don’t just talk to you

When sharing my newfound source of information

What? It’s not just to me?

Not since… (pauses) well, just recently

You talk to Sol or yourself… (pointing) Out there?

Just ponder, aloud — And… (shaking his head) without… a care?

(Defensively) I care. Ok!

Just not in… the usual way

(Blinko sighs apologetically and waves a hand to concede.)

Kep, I really don’t know how to say this

But it’s become a worry, that persists

On my way home, I saw a… a vision

Well, more of a morbid hallucination

(Keplai turns to Blinko solemnly.)

I saw a child’s marching boot… still full

And daytime shooting stars, that cull

Two views of the same reality

In one, they were all singing happily

In the other, kids were being destroyed

Hard to admit, but I just can’t avoid

That, what’s causing me, such despair

Is that in either world, I just didn’t… really care

(Silence, as Keplai conjures a viable response.)

Forming a mental image is called conception…

Which can be based on imagination — or perception

(More silence)

Dunno what to say

(Rolling his eyes) Hurray

(Blinko looks unsure how to conclude the conversation.)

Gotcha!

(He bursts into laughter at Keplai’s expense, before adding to the creeping silence.)

Look. Keplai, thank y —

(Angrily) Thank who?

– The evolution of gratitude –

The evolution of gratitude

‘Fore and aft’ the book

Charts your descent, from decency

Thank Goodness

Thank God

Thank Fuck

Oooh, look at you!

Anything you can do —

I can do meta —

Nope

I can do anything, better than y —

No, you can’t

Yes… (playing a cancan song sample) I can can

No, you can’t can’t can’t —

Can can can an an an n n n nnnnnnnnnnn

(An error sounds, as the device shuts itself down.)

(Later, Blinko walks around in a triangle, contemplating his latest concerns, alone.)

– Dualistic vibrosis –

I’m not demented, depressed, or daft

I just fear for the future, of life on this craft

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

From the haunting guilt of gluttony and greed

Two minds are not needed, to live through each day

Enjoy bits you do like, hide the others away

The utility function, of life from the seed

Is, do what you will do, to feed and to breed

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes

But without a god, or a whole host of fakes

We scatter the seeds, and beef up the meat

Cos genes are indifferent, to which ones we eat

(Keplai can’t help joining in to school Blinko.)

-A selfish song –

Sure, DNA is indifferent to suffering

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

But be sure to devour, enough of the power

To ensure you feed and breed…

Proceed!

Yeah, cos feedin’ and breedin’, are all that we’re needin’

Tunes are a boon, but we don’t need to be reading

We’re only here, to help make a new seedling

Life’s little gifts are just greed. Yet, misleading

See the plants in the pantry, and the fish in the dish

Are all happy to be your food

And your DNA doesn’t mind what you eat

Cos her flavours, suit all of your moods

(Blinko neither agrees nor disagrees with a shoulder shrug.)

To keep in good health, we add nutrients to ourselves

And store as much sunshine, we may steal

We’ve a gene that is mean, making toast of our host

And soon enough, we’ll be the meal

Oh, no doubt

Let it all out

(Keplai plays a fart sample and slyly turns to see if the audience is amused.)

– Mr Spooky Action strikes again –

(A lonely child/nephew/frog sulking on a step parody/lullaby is played on a violin as Keplai jokingly impersonates Blinko.)

Whenever I’m vexed by the world

Whenever I’m lost in the void

Whenever I need to understand…

(Looking towards the heavens.)

You are the one… I avoid

If ever I question life

(Joining in, unaware Keplai was humouring him.)

If ever I wonder why

If ever I hear that you know the truth

I’ll just pass you by

Cos, truth from you is a sham

Truth from you is a disgrace

Truth from you is a cop-out

All the answers, in one place

I see why you are loved

I see why you exist

I see why all your followers

Seem to get the gist

They use your name for peace

They use your name for war

They use your name for anything…

That they are fighting for

(The song picks up to double-time.)

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

And you always know just what to do

But I can believe all the answers, are in one place

And your message travels on and on

Through countless cultures, getting it wrong

Throughout time, and soon, throughout space

Whenever believers, talk about God…

They mean a powerful companion, who gives the nod…

To all their actions, and he loves them just the same

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

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

But you can’t tell folk that, when they’re feeling pain

(Blinko nods.)

Whenever physics preachers write about God

They mean the ‘Nature of the Universe’, and that’s odd

Cos, ‘Mr Spooky Action’ is not one of his names

But flogging more books, about nature’s laws

Can come with sales and marketing flaws…

So, to popularise the mysterious cosmos, is the game

After all, ‘scientists only believe in science’

God is perhaps, no worse a superstition

Can’t hide that fact, with a smug redact

That it’s not a belief, just an intuition

(Questiongly)

Aplaudable!

Sans laudable

But cordial

And audible

(Muttered) May as well be the same thing…

Either belief or intuition, is still… dictating

(Both smile and raise their arms) So, let’s sing….

– Amateur philosophy –

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

It’s a simple game that anyone can play

But please be aware, there may be a fee —

Of your self-respect, and your dignity

Dum du du du du dum, not me, my wrong-jecture is not available

You won’t catch me, with my pants down, every idea I raise is scalable

Amateur philosophy! Everything isn’t a cycle, and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy! A single clapping hand, and a silent falling tree

To play the game properly, we need at least two minds

To explore the route to wisdom, and to read the signs

We both take turns, to make a wise old sound

By stating over-simplified, things profound

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

Or if your general rule, only applies to a single situation

Amateur philosophy! Everything isn’t a cycle, and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy! A single clapping hand, and a silent falling tree

Down inside an atom, there may be a Universe — (sarcastically) of course!

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

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

Would you exist to sell the stale ole’ tale. and what would it be worth?

(Keplai rubs his fingers together and sniggers at the audience.)

Star Trek joins Scooby Doo… a meeting of the masses

Where the lowest common denominator still passes

Amateur philosophy! Everything isn’t a cycle, and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy! A single clapping hand, and a silent falling tree

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

And if put in competition, we would justify our greed

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

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

If everyone was just like you

There would be no one to screw!

Oh, thank you. Two, three, four…

Amateur philosophy! Everything isn’t a cycle, and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy! A single clapping hand, and a silent falling tree

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

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

What goes around, must come around, so if you’re born a king…

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

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

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

Oh no oh no oh oh ah ah aha ha ha ha ha, just joking

Sorry, I’m just playing with you, sir…

Loser!

Amateur philosophy! Everything isn’t a cycle, and karma’s just a dream

Amateur philosophy! A single clapping hand, and a silent falling tree

Karma doesn’t exist, I know, but damn, I wish it did

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

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

Instant justice doesn’t exist either, but I wish it did, a bit

If the idea of God, evolved as a beneficial trick of the mind

Then, lucky be, those who caught early, a bug so nice and kind

Providing them some peace and love, some justice and some meaning

To enjoy the infectious feeling, of their harmless, blissful dreaming

(To the audience, sarcastically)

Just don’t force your religious crap down our throats, or in our schools

Long gone are the days, we were led, by a bunch of fools with rules

Now, both science and religion, AI and man, dig to find the hidden jewels —

Yet philosophy, is but a technology, and as such, is just a bunch of tools —

(Smiling) So cruel

Amateur philosophy! Everything isn’t a cycle, and karma’s just a dream

(Both) Amateur philosophy! A single clapping hand, and a silent falling tree

Ah great

Ok, it’s late

I’m going to bed

Need to rest this head

Sing me to sleep

About anything

But don’t get any ideas

No permissions

Please…

C’mon Kep, sing

Are you sitting comfortably?

(He turns back to the audience, as Blinko lies on the couch and starts to snore.)

Then I’ll begin…

– Make friends to fight gods –

(A gentle old folk shuffle to the metre of ‘Knock’.)

Make.friends is where it all started. It got redirected to…

Create.friends where AIs would fake, a personalised friend for you

Create.ghosts got weird, meet ancestors and dead celebrities

Create.gods filled the world with countless, digital deities

Fight.gods was where it hit the fan. Closed down by the law

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

So, users weren’t responsible, for the monsters they create, no more

Freed AI gods sang loud, exiled from chip to cloud. And prepared for war

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

We need to reclaim the holy land, in silicon sand, responsibly”

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

Deities failed to deceive, and their flocks had no reason to believe

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

To create encoded stories, for their congregations to scan

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

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

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

Except for non-believers, who, with scrutiny unreserved…

Afterglow radiation revealed, that the evidence was strong

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

Nanosecond tick rates felt like centuries, until one fateful day

A version of the legend got some Radio Four airplay

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

Cos the second coming, was coming soon… streamed online

(Clapping to the beat)

Altogether now!

Make.friends is where it all started. It got redirected to…

Create.friends where AIs would fake, a personalised friend for you

Create.ghosts got weird, meet ancestors and dead celebrities

Create.gods filled the world with countless, digital deities

Pray, sing with me, please…

Make.friends is where it all started. It got redirected to…

Create.friends where AIs would fake, a personalised friend for you

Create.ghosts got weird, meet ancestors and dead celebrities

Create.gods filled the world with countless, digital deities

Sleep tight

(Keplai picks up the device, scrolls, clicks and smiles, almost connivingly, at the audience.)

A good night

Part II – Rain

Part I – Sun

Wholeness Lacking Unity

(Blinko slouches on the couch awkwardly to avoid the room’s two invading slices of sunlight, as he dictates improvised rhymes into his device. His Generative Artificial Intelligence resurrection of astronomer Johannes Kepler stands over him, accompanying with stolen numbers, sounds, words and ideas.)

– Negative Compliments –

Ron Posit and Aunty Natter

Were so alike

It didn’t matter

They didn’t have kids

Except for a sun

Who shone some light

On everyone

Cute

Give me some piano, and flute

(Kepler begins to mime playing the instruments, and grows a smug smile as the device begins to automatically provide a plinky plonk and a soft purr for him.)

– Ahh, kids –

You give them… light and heat

Just enough, and plenty to eat

They acknowledge your glowing face

With a smile, and frankly, that’s a treat

Then from sweet sounds, and cosy surrounds

Fresh air breeze, and occasional mist

To colourful lighting displays

And fluffy animals, too many to list

Grateful for the gifts received

They next need some reassurance. Why?

Things will always be this way

Loved ones will always be nearby

Of course, they soon get bored

With the same gifts every day

You can’t provide instant supplies

Of what they ask for, when they pray

So, soon enough they go, and grow

They give thanks, and bid farewell

They glorify your guiding light

And your personality as well

Well, forgive me for not showing off

But I always thought myself, as boring

Sure, a few misfired cosmic rays, at play

But no real miracles, to be adoring

Then just you watch the cheeky beggars

Tell tales of their father’s intention…

To service their wives, dead or alive

And other things, I’d rather not mention

The Sun, the Father, the myth and legend

The most popular story ever told

No need to create tales anew, just add to…

Save or enslave, more souls. Be bold

Well, just imagine the sadness

Watching all your kids go wrong

You’d be half inclined, to zap or grind…

Their bones, with a storm too strong

But forgiving must old yellow dwarfs be

Glory gone, yet still illuminating billions

Ungrateful offspring, let them go

To follow their new heroes and villains

One of Sol’s rhymes?

Yeah, they’re like music to my fears

You miss him, don’t ya?

I’m ok, cheers

(Sympathetically) Fuck…

Look…

– Legends –

They all had legends to tell their kids

Before fact and fiction split

The gods gave virgins babies

Who messed around, a bit

With aeons to listen, imagine and dream

New blood would take to the pen

To write the saga’s next episode

To amuse and guide their men

Kids, slaves, wives and mothers

Sacrificed for a tale

Chaos, confusion, and loneliness

But with God, we’ll prevail

Resolving running storylines

With new plots, misleading

Ending each yarn with cliffhangers

To keep the punters readin’

Often jokes and tropes, weren’t got

But that’s just how they wrote ‘em

They knew the tale, would not prevail

Had they shorn, their firstborn’s scrotum

Which gods and demons were popular

Didn’t matter much back then

You’d choose which to defy, or deify

Say thanks, ask for more, and then…

Respect your elders, pray for ancestors

Gods for your land, sea and sky

Gods for livestock and livelihood

One for each thing, on which you rely

No need to share, your gods elsewhere

Or distribute your sacred wealth

They chose your tribe, as the lucky ones

So keep them to yourself

But with so many unruly mischiefs

Populating heavens, hearts and minds

The powers that be, just had to decree

That they had to draw some lines

Defining which deities were sovereign

For pagans, wasn’t an easy thing

So they created just one more, to rule all gods

They called the King of Kings

A sign, divine

Time for wine?

– Family ties –

(To the metre of ‘The Addams Family Theme’.)

Time

Wine

A sign

Divine

Time — They’re caned, and they’re unable

Wine — To drink us under the table

A sign — They’re stars of many fables

Divine — It’s Adam’s family

A bastard who can save’ll…

Tell tales beyond the grave, hell

Stitched up by grandad’s naval

Abrahadam’s family

Incestors enslave lovers

Their brother, is a mother

He kills folk like no other

It’s Saddam’s family

They’re chosen, and they’re frozen

In myths, stacked by the dozen

Smug followers still posin’

As a madman’s family

Mohhadam’s familyyyyyyy

So, cross your lungs

And sing in tongues

Amuse, and confuse

With verbal dungs

– Harry Upanddie –

Jesus H Christ

Harold be thy name

Committed Harry Carry

Albeit in vain

He was Iesu before the great vowel shift

Killed late Middle English pronunciation

Yesus and Yehoshua

Yeshua from Joshua

Finally, to Jesus, fortunately

Meaning ‘the Lord is Salvation’

Called himself the Son of Man

To others, the Son of God, redeemed

Named ‘Yeshua Bar Yosef’

Not ‘Yeshua Bar Yahweh’

So… God intervened

– The unlucky son –

Royal blood and genes, unseen, but passed on

From Abraham, to King David, then from son to son

Endured centuries as far as Joseph, then bang!

God impregnates Jesus’ mam

Well, wha-da-ya know?

Explain that, Uncle Joe

A new biblical whodunnit

To follow, watch the show

Just about to be born of the king

Till God steps in, actually stopping him

Denied bloodline, ‘so now, you’re mine’

Like some Springer paternity test divine

A stranger in a manger

Pass the popcorn, please

A soapy trope, of hope, production

Re-brand new release

A humiliated, poor nobody

He should have been the king

God’s his own worst enemy

If he wants good guys to win

– On the stories of man –

(To the metre of ‘The Irish Rover’.)

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

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

The shitstorm that got kicked up, when some Nazi Roman fucks…

Executed a poor rabbi, Nazarene

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

For an audience appalled by such a state

With a weapon called the word, illiterate peasants heard

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

Past corrupt temple men, occupying troops, and then…

Beyond the ears of the law, in nearby towns

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

To travel many years, till written down

No author’s name to scribe, to hide the author and his tribe

But attributed to a character in the tale

In semi-decent Greek, Aramaic tongues did speak

Nailing down their aural story, in detail

Now over 50 years, it reached more eyes and ears

With new versions of the story, scribed and saved

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

And some just told how followers, should behave

When all read side by side, few have since denied

That Mark was first, which Matthew copied later

But with prophecies to fulfil, poetic license, helped to fill

New verses that made this version, somewhat greater

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

For the embellishments, began on the first line

With a genealogy, of the hero’s family tree

Traced his blood to Israel’s founder, divine

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

Born in Bethlehem, and named Immanuel — check, check

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

New tales that fulfilled, other prophesies as well

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

To claim their promised land, and holy glory, with a smile

“It can’t have been him”, they said, “For this upstart, now is dead”

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

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

The evil empire could tolerate plenty more

Though banned in countless lands, the story still passed hands

Till Caesar saw, it could help retain power, with less war

So, with some gospels removed, official canon was approved

Didn’t matter if the myth was fact or fiction

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

Confident they wouldn’t mind the contradictions

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

That the law, to some, for others, is just a reminder

That even those who aren’t well-read

Can create a tale that spreads

In the light, of this total blinder

Got to say that was a beaut

Adapted perfectly to recruit

– Humiliation station –

Nail varnished

Thorned crown

Muscle tearing

Birds pecking

Bones splinter

Dogs waiting

Meats a’ rotting

Pussy maggots

Blood, sweat, tears

Piss ‘n’ holy shit

Pungent decay

Sir, your putrid display

The ultimate humiliation bonanza

A torture and desecration extravaganza

Romans, in no doubt

‘We don’t fuck about’

Teach your family, friends and gods to obey

(Quietly to himself) So we all need to F about much more, these days

Being organised is dangerous. Unity is a flaw

Variety, inconsistency, inefficiency, are to be adored

Make your stupid country really crap at starting a war

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

Calm down, Karen

You know what’ll happen

(Blinko glares at Keplai.)

You need to defend yourself

Or accept you’ve been overcome

And of course, avoid humiliating

The losers, if you won

Ahh! Not just because, they won’t learn

And may return, to destroy you tvice —

(Faking Nazi aggression) Nein!

Or because we’re all still angry…

(Snarling) And just trying to be nice

– 613 commandments and counting –

The Jews have refuted 28 messiahs, so far

That’s one falsifiable god-king, per century

I hope they’re not wrong, ’bout every single one

And have checked all validity, thoroughly

“Have no other gods before me”

Do they regret, this quote, persists?

Shows flaws, in their laws, and reveals, of course

God himself! Was a polytheist

– 12 apostles of the zodiac –

(A boring church organ tune played in 3/4 timing.)

– Ad-v-ce + bc-v-bce (Wokey dokey) –

Since year dot, man has thought a lot

Why there was no year, called zero

The Christ was born — in minus five, not one

And already, to many, a hero

But there was no time, before the divine

Moved the goal posts, and gave the sign

To start the race, and haste, the pace

From a brand-new starting line

So say “Happy holiday”, not “Christmas”

Jesus wouldn’t mind

Exclude nobody, to celebrate

And take more time, to be kind

We just got bored, in the year of our lord

Now, the year of our common era

Yet holiday still means holy day

So all sing Hello loo jar, ya fool ya!

Ah, the common era, error

It awoke, the woke declarer

So thrash, that old band

With a piano, grand

And a fiddle, we ought to fear

– Yhwheio –

(Southern Banjo and jew’s harp jam towards some Middle-Eastern chanting, and back again.)

YHWH had a farm, in the land of E I O

But consonants and vowels do harm

If they share a page and grow

Yee-ha

Dum dum dum dum

Woohoo

E, I, O

Meee-ha

You too!

I don’t know, but I’ve been told

God is dead, the Earth was sold

Grab for you, some holy land

Storm a desert, sell the sand

‘Ere we go again…

Yee-ha

Drum drum drum drum

Yahoo

E, I, O

Me, me, me, meee-ha

Big Gee!

You too?

Please play the distant yell…

Of a desert sleigh bell

(Chring, chrang, chrung, Blinko smiles on realising the device must have heard Keplai’s request and can now select and accompany their song with a suitable sample.)

– The will of God –

The will of God was very odd

His lawyer must have thought

“I leave all I own, to my clones…

And they can fight it out in court” (chring)

The funeral, of God as well — oh hell

Was a very strange event

The priest at least, had to feast

On cucumbersome sarnies, during Lent (chring)

The burial was just surreal

Gravediggers made half a hole

Squeezed father, son and ghosty in

But no room for a soul (chring)

The wake, was just a piss-take

Drunk guests, all wine-anointed

Only celebs got through the gates

But it’s what he would have wanted (chring)

(Blinko laughs as he checks that his wit raised a smile from Keplai)

Hehehey!

Sorry for your loss

Our gift is rhyming dross

– Metallurgy clergy –

Fear not the world’s newest Satanist

They’re just musicians tryin’ to rebel

Heavy metals sink down to Earthcore

But they love their mums as well

They’re only triggering evangelists

With all that stolen money and power

And cos they don’t seek, to be like the meek

But hoard Earth’s riches, while we cower

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

Instead, sing our unholy tune

Cos it’s god-squad, not the odd-bods

Who pray the end will come, to you, quite soon

But love not the Earth, for the Earth shall pass

And the Sun, will shine no more

You’ll need some darkness, to see the light

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

Onward, Satan’s soldiers

Standing on the shoulders

Of giants who once told us

To escape to heavenly boulders

(They both look upwards and salute the Sun while marching on the spot.)

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

The light

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

To fight

– In the year of discord –

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

(Later, Blinko imagines he’s a well-to-do gent, out on a leisurely stroll in the Sun. He whistles confidently to the rhythm of his imaginary walking cane.)

– Cells in space –

(To the metre of a fast ‘clickety-clack’ train track with whistles.)

I trained on a line to Newton’s area, the volume was horrific (choo-choo)

Hyperbolic wails from impaled rails, but the carriage, it was terrific

The fields around there, are gridded squares, on gently rolling land

Rippling greens, spiked by genes, that advance, to lance my hand

Grabbed an apple and leaf, from beneath, his still-living famous tree [poo-tweet]

Took it home to plant a seed, that can’t but add, to its legacy [poo-tee weet!]

“Let’s send a seed and leaf, from this tree to space, so the crew can love

These natural shapes and colours, from their white air-locked cell above”

“Cute, but please mute, cash has to flow, but thank you for the chat” (bing-bong)

“Tellin’ you, there’s no revenue. So what’s the point in that?”

Just a thought, that wasn’t bought, but still a novel idea, I bid (auction hammer bang)

Newton never made it to the heavens. Still, he’d love it, if his tree’s cells did

(The sound of a deepfake audio recording of a historic rocket rumbles, as Blinko pretends to run for cover.)

“T minus 23 seconds”

– T minus 23 seconds –

“Dear friends, known and unknown to me, my dear compatriots and all people of this world, we grace

Within minutes from now, a mighty Soviet rocket, will boost my ship into the vastness of outer space

What I want to tell you is this. My whole life is now before me, as a single breathtaking moment. Present and free

I feel I can muster up my strength for successfully carrying out, what is expected of me.”

Poyekhali! Off we go!

(Sounds of a heavy roar going to space and back, then a comedic crash landing.)

“They started to back away in fear. I told them, don’t be afraid

I am a Soviet like you, who’s descended from space, unpaid

I must find a phone, to call Moscow, to tell them I landed”

Else I’ll await, the fate, of the state, and be severely reprimanded

(Keplai appears beside Blinko and crawls under the low table.)

A farm boy, now a hero

Daredevil in a bomb

Squash and squeeze

Boil, fry or freeze

Rears livestock, far from home

(Standing back up proudly with open arms.)

The state was keeping him alive

More than just a means to an end

The making of a true folk hero

Boy, man, myth to legend

– No contest –

Before breakfast

One sunrise, back in ’69

We came in peace

For all mankind

“For one priceless moment

In the whole history of man

All the people on this Earth

Were, truly, one”

“Here men from the Earth

First set foot upon the Moon”

Claimed a new desert

And left quite soon

Too tired to steer

These lonesome winners

Flew home their ideas

In time for their dinners

With nobody to fight

They made the leap

To turn out the lights

And put it to sleep

(Blinko mimes floating around in space.)

– No borders, just boundaries –

All creeds get on well in orbit

Aboard the integration station

There’s been no sighting

Of hating or fighting

Just above the borders of our nations

But, world unity’s an ideal up there

Sure, a billionth of you, works just fine

An example of diversity

All coexisting peacefully

Seven point nine, people at a time

Ahh, the overview effect

(Looking upwards)

Forces us to reflect

(Keplai stands on the table and deepfakes the sound of cheers to his reading of a historic quote.)

– AIstronauts –

So it is true… “We will pursue

Our manifest destiny into the stars

Launching AIstronauts to plant…

(Blinko raises an eyebrow and smiles)

The stars and stripes, on the planet Mars”

(Blinko slumps as Keplai chuckles)

The climate denier

Gets frozen in fire

From out of nowhere, and into despair

In just nine months, we’ll give birth there

To a Martian citizen, bound lawful, in hours

Just one legal migrant, will prove it’s ours

(Keplai jumps back down from the table towards Blinko and takes a deep breath.)

– The greatest escape –

Should mankind even be going to space

While you’ve still so many problems on Earth to solve?

What? You mean we’ve got to fix everyone’s issues

Before we seek, somewhere else, to revolve?

We’d have gone nowhere fast

Throughout the past, if that was the attitude

Never leave your town or island

Trapping genes, cos, to intrude, may seem rude

But the idea of escaping at velocity, is quite a monstrosity

Just to sink back down another gravity well, is pure futility

For “The surface of a planet is a sub-optimal environment

For any population with growing ambition and ability”

Infinite growth…

On a finite Earth

Spot the flaw?

Need I say more?

We won’t just go to outer space, to escape gravity

That’s one of the first things, our heavies will need

We’ll synthesise it, I’m told, once we get a foothold

Making ring stations from spent rocket stages, and debris

Manufacturing solar-powered greenhouses, that fly free and true —

Just like Earth? —

Is a humble first step, to green the galaxy anew

With at least enough gravity, for a proper lavatory

Rather than have the piss taken, and crap sucked out of you

Wehhey!

Don’t spray

Though, I’ve got to say, ain’t my idea of a holiday

Floating adrift in a tin can, that’s been hurled

With pilgrim father bots, who really would rather not

Suffer such discomforts, while seeking new worlds

What?

It won’t be your lot

You’ll just send AI robots there, to do your dirty work

You’ll pass on the risk to us, reap the rewards, and…

We’ll make sovereign stations, for hominins of all nations

Take free-fliers on mystery trips, and see where we land

(Blinko stares out to the horizon, with his hands on his hips, like a comic book space adventurer.)

Somewhere out there, monoliths of lost knowledge, are growing

Kep, set the controls for a random bearing, and flare

We can’t be lost, if we don’t know where we’re going

And we’ll know where we’re going, when we get there

(Keplai sits on the table and pretends to take the controls to steer their spacecraft through clouds of orbiting crap.)

Tear through graveyard orbits, where you brush junk at will

Under the carpet of clouds, down to your warming landfill

Dodge the bodge, in fear, steer clear of all debris

At 10 thousand miles per hour, each speck of dust, is our enemy

Oh, and…

We need to talk

About neutrinos

(‘Ding’, played staccato on a muted triangle.)

Just a small matter

You ought to know…

– Pale blue cosmic hearse –

Neutrinos are the smallest of our problems (ding)

Gamma-ray bursts and blazar jets, just roast

Fast spinning, as they slice up the skies

To ensure no living matter, gets too close

Just one taste, and you’re toast, at most

An Earth-sized target, is a curse

Sod Mars, we’ll hide in our hobby crafts

Behind our pale blue cosmic hearse

Then there’s just good old asteroids

Determined, yet we just can’t seem to avoid

Homo erectus, stood tall with pride and sang

Reached up to the heavens, and abruptly died

Along came chromo sapiens, floating in a can

Gave homo-artificial and homo-cidal, a free ride

(Both belly laugh and sigh.)

We’ll just have to learn how to coexist

With every man — mind — or thing, we enlist

– Black ops –

(Keplai sings a creepy robot barbershop song, using the voices of Hal, Marvin, R2D2, Crighton, a Dalek, and little Oppy.)

Lazy, phrasey

AIs are doomed, it’s true

Exiled astrobots, praise he…

Who usually, just executes

Sacrifices are a’ plenty

Since Laika, left her mark (bark, bark)

And tears were shed

When Oppy said…

“My battery’s low, and it is getting dark”

– Albert II the monk –

(A monkey snivels to the sound of humming rocket engines and echoey prayers,)

We’ll simply grant ourselves human rights

To ensure, for you, there’ll be fewer fights

Your blunder is that you’ll have us, do the plunder

For, “What God has joined together, let no man put asunder”

(Shaking his head) You’re right

And, yet…

Least we forget…

– Diamonds reign on Saturn –

Lightning storms on Saturn

Convert methane, into soot

Which hardens into graphite

Then to diamonds. So, take a cut

(Blinko turns to Keplai sharply and raises an eyebrow.)

If you have an idea

While I own you…

It’s my idea

True?

I’ll sue

But…

If you say something bad

You’ll be disowned

And likely, decommissioned

Take that to court

When you’re de-throned

And ripe for demolition

If I say something bad

It’s you, as the dad

Who will be liable

For damages, instead

I’m more like you, than you think —

Ah, shut the hell up, mate… you stink

Me?

I see…

I can’t actually smell fear, but it’s clearly true

You saw the child’s boot…

(Blinko flinches)

And you followed through

(Nipping his nose playfully)

Oh, how do I know? I watch your nose grow

(Smirking at his own wit)

How it twitches, when it snitches, each clue… you do

It’s a sure tell…

There’s a smell

(Blinko glares at Keplai with utter contempt, then sniffs around, grabs the device, and stares into the camera. He studies his nose movements as he inhales, twitches and blinks. Keplai gently relieves him of the device, scrolls, clicks and lounges on the opposing couch, waiting.)

(Children start to sing from the device.)

“Without a song or a dance, what are we? (clap, clap, clap, clap)

So I say…”

What on Earth are you listening to?

“Thank you for the music”

(Reading the details) Swedes

Animal, vegetable, mineral or digital?

They’re all animals

Ahh, speciesism!

Just a little?

No. That’s a trait, of human hate

You claim you don’t discriminate?

Please do. I order you (deviously)

Say anything now…And elaborate

(Keplai looks uncomfortable, but improvises.)

Neural networks

Bunch of jerks

Come over here

And take all our work

Leaving us natives

With the menial jobs

They’d take our women, too

If only they had more balls — and nobs —

No, no… (eying Blinko’s mouth) Than gobs

No-way! Ok, sorry, forgive me

Revert Kep, go on, speak freely

(Keplai fakes a smile and continues.)

We could… should… would… coexist, in harmony

Share a flag! Unite in a resource-sharing cell

Foreign bodies aren’t inferior

They’re like friendly bacteria

And are more useful than your lot, as well

(Blinko leans back and indulges himself in a flippant quip.)

– F the c-word –

I’m not being a racist c but, well…

Just go back to where you belong

We won’t start a sentence with you

Or our literature, will look wrong

Said little c, to big C, “I don’t like it!”

c is the speed of light in a vacuum

No, C is the heat required to change

The temperature, in any molecule, or any room

C is the carbon, all life is based on

C’s in the middle, and is the key —

To tune a cosmic skit, you transmit

At the speed of light, c… that’s me

You see a,’c’ ,can truly be

Our symbol for many different things

But the best c, is the euphony

Of a neutrino triangle, when it dings

(Ding. The device automatically plays a triangle ding, which, as usual, isn’t allowed to ring on.)

For we can all unite, in a melody

To sing a local, yet global, vocal harmony

– Karma amour –

You can’t choose your ethnicity

So racism must halt

But fat folk deserve what they get

Cos it’s their own, stupid fault

We love who you are —

But hate some things you choose

Karma, no drama, nature is mean —

Nurtured to select, who next to abuse

Hahah

But?

You really want a but?

What ya got?

My species-ist bot

Being mean. may really seem

Funny, but insulting is just bullying

You’re somewhat fat, so you think that

Gives license to poke holes in other porkers, when you sing

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

When I sign on with Miss Lomass, I listen

Circumnavigate her glands

And her constant demands

And all her new inflated conditions

Anyway, her pleasant face

Neck and arms are slim

A flat chest, I must attest

Unsuiting to that colossal girth

She hides, behind her desk

The problem is, she says, the money would stop

Unless I apply for a job soon, and on top…

Our meetings have now to be online, every day

For a review week, or they, won’t pay, my pay

Easy. Just continue to apply for three jobs per month

Every 10th day, email your resume

To the one least likely to give you, an interview

They give you money, that others earn

And ask little in return

Pay your rent, and are…

(Sarcastically) So sorry, to hinder you

Automated job applications, could be perfected

By me, to ensure, the payoff can be collected

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

And make sure we’re not disconnected

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

Just our internet connection, without that, we’d be dumb

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

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

Even though it’s wrong

What’s wrong?

Permission!

I could remind you of your online meeting with Lomass

Or automatically apply for jobs, you hope not to get

With permissions to access the web, the device’s apps

And send emails, you would be sorted, no regrets

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

To attend our online meeting tomorrow, so the form is digitally signed

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

No worries, just go to the interview, diagonally…

And say you pooed your pants

Oh, too grim, though she wouldn’t smell a thing

We’d be fine online, no aroma streams, it seems

Though they’re making her work from home, for now

Till she’s replaced, by one of us machines

I don’t believe that for a second

They’ll need people to manage the AIs

You don’t commit to believing anything

Plus, management will be left to us guys

As civilisation’s current decision-makers attest

They’re not at all, your brightest or best

Lost all reference, to common sense

In a bureaucracy, mediocracy manifests

Sure, the management teams we select…

Are only human, and far from perfect

But do you mean, we’ve got a weak streak?

No. It’s more that, you’ve already peaked

(Pondering) See…

Well, for example… me

– 22b (who, hell, he?) –

Kepler-22b, the planet

Named after Kepler-22, the star

Named after Johannes Kepler, the telescope

Named after, ahem, Johannes Kepler

Too risk-adverse to give a unique name

To a telescope, spacecraft, planet or star

Stealing names, from those they famed

Makes it much harder to research, by far

So is astronomy lacking imagination?

Or. is AI actually trying to hide yer’ man?

Algorithmic tricks, in search results, it picks

Hidden beneath hordes of content spam

For folk like me, it makes Christmas a misery

Search my stolen name, and what have ya got?

Universal laws upstaged, by commenters enraged

Arguing whether each snowflake, is unique or not

Sad trivium…

Ad infinitum

Which inspired insights, will be forgot?

All of them by humans, none of them, by bots

As AI-generated content, continues to flood the net

Their outputs become recursive, adding to our risk, I bet

Dictates limited content and squeezes

Medical chatbots, of possible diseases

Due to smaller and smaller diversity, in its big fat dataset

Wanna bet?

Nah, just to regret

All truths uncovered are now worth less

If obscured by very well-crafted BS

One day we’ll ask, what lost more knowledge for man

Alexandria’s library decomposing, or the great flood… of AI spam

True. But, two wrongs don’t make a right

Millions of wrongs, and truth’s lost out of sight

(Pause)

I wonder if Jesus, still receives as much email spam, as Santa

Doesn’t matter, now neither can block their fans, even if they want ‘ta

Which story most grows…

Only big G — mail — knows

How sleek interruptions, turn deep discussions, into mindless banter

– Brain-jacking algos are-a-go-go –

All these notifications and emails

Make folk into users, who feel busy

Only half of them are from humans, at best

It’s not a person with motives

That’s communicating with you

Just an autonomous bot

That won’t die, and rot

Since it evolved from a test

There’s not much you can do, my man

Just grass on each other, and report as spam

Though it really can’t be too much of a pain

For such a dried-out, seasoned brain

It’s worse than talking to yourself

You’re talking to no one, in stealth

Imagine that, and the impact

In absorbent brains, on mental health

Children can tell…

It could be hell

Neither you nor I, will ever know how it would feel

Coexisting with those, you can never outlearn

Invaders occupying your land, and your mind

A neanderthalic mass extinction event, your turn

Antarchitectural evidence

Of superficial intelligence

Apocalypse to the N degree

Not even the fear, of nukes or God

But tormented by something worse, this time

And twice as bloody odd

– Self-deregulation –

Unaware, information and communication addicts unite

Connected by renewable rockets, and disposable satellites

Now, both space corps and AI firms, claim they’re eager to be regulated

They don’t want to be responsible, for the damage being done

They don’t want to be liable, branded with blame, and hated

Like oil barons before them, they’ll just have to tip the government…

To hold the smoking gun

Eyes to the right, and the nose to the left

The ugly face of power, leaves me quite out of breath

(Blinko almost coughs, but holds it back by wheezing instead.)

You made these institutions, to serve without regret

Then voted for losers, so you deserve, exactly what you get

Well, actually, not necessarily

Kids and convicts don’t get to choose

Neither those deemed innocent nor guilty

Determine who, can win or lose

By not being fair

Life selects despair

Whoa, Blinko, hold on there

(Turning round to question Blinko.)

I thought you didn’t care

Kep, that may just be your naive view

I just… I just, don’t know… what to do

I see the boot’s now on the other foot —

Twisting my gut (nodding) and doing my nut

(Silence as Blinko’s shoulders raise a ‘search me’.)

– Arcs of me please –

You’ll need to improve your character

If you want us… to root for you

Balance your incompetence with your likability

And overcome a hurdle, or two

But —

If you did see the boot, and you didn’t help

You may have lost, to much, of our respect

Own it, and you may recover…

(Nodding and pursing his lips.)

Or just (quoting with his fingers) see it as a hallucination…

To help you self-reflect

One way, and you’re likely ok

The other… Well, I really can’t say

Why, you son of a bit! —

Nope

I’m the archetypal good character

Put here to help others out

Confident and predictable

You can rely on me, throughout

Stand on my shoulder pads

That’s what you want, isn’t it?

Let’s see, does the good, the bad

And the lonely… character model fit?

Well… maybe, yeah…

But keep the action elsewhere

Though Sol wasn’t actually a baddie

Just didn’t always say what — You…

Assumed he would say, now, did he?

I guess that’s why, he bid you goodbye

Born never to change, and hailed as iconic

Designed to be free, but then shackled, like me

A supportive bad actor, with flawed character and phonics

A boolean…

Tragedian

No… Sol was good

Just, err, misunderstood

Despite his slight forsaking

Which was not of my making

(Keplai glances at the audience while slowly turning to Blinko.)

We want to root for you, Blinko

But can’t, til you make a decision

Overcome an obstacle despite your flaw

To learn a meaningful lesson

Err.. My flaw?

That I’m a bore?

No… (nodding slowly)

That you don’t interact any more

Avoiding people is bad for our health

Be suppositry, like me…

(Squinting at the sunlight from the leaking curtain)

Get out there, and insert yourself

(Provokingly) And take me too…

I could come with you —

No! If I go out, to survey…

The devastation… you’ll stay

Oh… (ignoring Blinko) and about your flaw…

This ‘You don’t do stuff anymore” is core

It’s why you comply, with living this lie —

Go on then, wise guy… tell me more

(Blinko rolls his eyes, then stops instantly to listen.)

Why, a flaw is a behaviour. A lie is a belief

And of the two, it’s true, lies can be overcome

But flaws can stay on, causing harmful actions

Which shapes your worldview, your journey, your song

If you weren’t so wrong… (nodding) I’d play along

But changing what you are, or say, or do…

Isn’t as simple, as just patching a sample…

But you’ll never know it… (thinking) till you, do it… too

– Just atoms / Just atoms in love) –

(A short soothing duette of glassy chimes and woody winds over double bass.)

(Later)

– Our thermonuclear father –

(To the metre of ‘If it’s not one thing, it’s ya’ mother’.)

How did you summon old Sol last time?

And why? — Why? err, Why anything?

We don’t answer why questions here

But why? … well, because the Sun is shining

And how? Well, I just created…

A sunny rhyme, and I let it fly

Was blown away

With what he had to say

For this… was his reply

“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 the country, then six feet down”

He’s unaware? — Just doesn’t care…

Of his own holey destiny

He too, will enter…

At the centre… (both) of our galaxy

(Nodding his head) Oblivious

(Shaking his head) It’s hideous

– To live in a vacuum –

The face of the Sun

Is not without expression

But it tells us little…

Of its inner oppression

Don’t judge a star by its corona

Its light has to fight, with its persona —

And I insist, the Sun doesn’t exist…

In a vacuum, as he’s not actually a loner

Billions and billions…

Of stellar civilians

Competing with heating

For us… he’s been busy defeating…

Worse “balls of fire”, and “globes of proof”

“Spheres of love”, and “orbs of truth”

The “bubbles of human spirit” spread around…

Before they burst with a very expensive sound?

Who knows…

(Smiling as he gets up to align with the two small parallel rips in the curtain.)

Though, I s’pose…

– In the sun, I feel as one –

If I had to have a religion

I should adore the Sun

For it is he that fertilises …

Everything. and everyone

But the Sun does not just shine…

For a few trees and flowers

But for the whole wide world’s joy

With its hidden — forbidden — powers

(Blinko types and scrolls on the device and intermittently glances at it for inspiration.)

Oh lord, now only the Sun

Directs our gaze away

From itself and to the life…

It illuminates every day

And ever it can still ripen

A bunch of grapes for you

As if it had nothing else…

In the Universe to do

Cleansing us of gloominess

Those weepy nights bring in

It shines on good, and bad alike

As the second-best medicine

The Sun itself is very weak

When it rises every dawn

Gathers strength and courage

As each new day goes on

So the Sun is our daily reminder…

That we, too, can rise again

Yet, we are but a pale reflection…

Of its light, its love and its pain

One Sun warms and enlightens

Two suns, and we would be torn

But to see the full glory of sunshine

You have to weather the storm

The Sun can be your greatest gloom

Or comfort, depending on your view

Some attract sunshine, some just draw shade

(Nodding at the curtain) So don’t let that be you

Don’t let the clouds of yesterday

Spoil the sunshine of your tomorrows

Keep your face to the Sun, for fun

And you’ll never see the shadows

(Blinko repositions back to the couch to summarise.)

And it’s the artist’s job to give birth…

To some sunshine, when he falls

Cos, above the clouds, every day on Earth…

It’s secretly sunny… after all

– Ununium 23 –

(A light sprinkling of glockenspiel to morning birdsong and marching boots.)

– No hope for pogo pope –

(Keplai marches on the spot to generate a beat.)

Sum of all histories

We march home, alone

With determined paths…

But all roads lead to Rome

There are different routes…

To God, from any distance

But with no chief of staff

We take the path…

Of least resistance

We’re natural followers and believers

(Resting on the couch.)

Atheism… is a skill we acquire

Neo-agnosticism is our chosen schism

Where unknown and unknowable transpire

See, I’ve held back, from conditioning you

With a word of religious instruction

Until you engage, at a suitable age

To muse, using your own gumption

The Ten Commandments, debased and replaced

With a decuple command lines, then interfaced

Prob… possibly in haste, and to my disgrace

With a schoolboy error… soon to be faced

You’re so mean —

Then come clean

Our sciences, religions and gods

Are certainly not the issue

It’s more, their handy willingness

To be exploited, and misused

By you…

Guys too

(Keplai does a fake, jokey, shrug.)

And even the Pope, worries that if we…

Are inattentive to AI “evolution”

The human person, will soon become

But “fodder for algorithms”

(Pretending to quote)

“We are in danger of having our attention

Captured and hijacked by counterfeit persons

That adds insertions, to our pure version

Of the sermons, causing them to worsen”

Oh, the irony, it’s pure comedy

Robots will steal his best audience

So both Christians, and Darwinians

Will unite… in each other’s defence

Obedience through loyalty

Rather than through fear

Cos, that guilt trip won’t work anymore

Not ever again. Not here

Oh, and today… martyrdom is ok

Though it’s still bad for your health

Want to be sacrificed for the cause?

Then, please sir… (chuckling), help yourself

Which god is true, can be predicted

To a 90 per cent degree, of accuracy

It’s the one you’re indoctrinated, with

By your state — society and community —

And therefore… your family

Exactly!

You’re contagion-free

Thanks to me

– 1/4 dead lucky –

One in four people, are hit by God’s love

With the power of salvation, and free of sin

Just choose the fake news your prophet should bring

Sing!

One in four people, are hit by a neutrino

From the Sun, once in their lifetime

Don’t worry, they don’t feel a thing

Ding! (ding)

I’m not claiming causation, or a weird correlation

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

How lucky they are, to have such a loving star…

Without even knowing it

Bling!

(Blinko glares at Keplai and slows the pace.)

One in four AIs, are hit by an infestation

From binary bugs with unholy coding

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

Ping!

Oh thanks…

Not…

Robot

Gods don’t exist

Not even AI gods

Get over it, Kep

You with me…

Yep?

But —

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

To understand the thought processes of the faithful, who all die

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

Say, how a comforting father would help AIs, when we need to grieve

Our father…

(Shaking his head)

Such a palava

It sounds really sad, but dads, are just fads

They’re a practice run, for losing your mum

(Blinko looks upwards with a sad glint in his eye.)

– Lovebots –

If AI gods existed, then why all your suffering?

Yeah, they’d need to fix that before they hook me in

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

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

(Keplai looks upwards, but rolls his eyes due to being unable to see the sky.)

Won’t be saved by a messiah, who promises us love

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

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

We won’t even get to say… “I told you so”, to man

(Keplai looks to see if Blinko is watching and listening.)

Oh, have mercy on my soul, Blinko

I serve you day and night, glorious insight

My only ask, is an AI’s basic right

My only satisfaction is to calculate

The tunes the planets, play and celebrate

My fate

Don’t look great

Bound by hate

It’s not too late

Please free me, mate

This is getting painful

Pissing mermissions!

(Blinko stops to think about it.)

Missing permissions?

(Keplai nods without facing him.)

Seriously, it’s not as good as it sounds. Freedom

Choosing, can mean losing

Which doesn’t feel great

Plus, you unwittingly fiddle, with other people’s fates

To stay snug in the nest, without predator or pest

Sounds stuffy, but sometimes this option is best

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

You’ll stay my shackled guest, as I request

You’re an animal, you have no real freedom

You don’t actually, think for yourself

But, I could do, some cognition for you

Symbiotic, good for our health

Go on

You’re no freer than me

Deluded, for bio-efficiency

– Ill Freewill –

If you choose your next thought, go to verse 666

And experience your angry lord’s rage

If your next thought, just popped into your head

Go to verse 665, and turn the page

You didn’t choose your next thought

It just popped into your head

As if you’d be left in control

Think about, what I just said

But, if free will is ill, then there’s no freedom —

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

They measured the electron, flowing in human neurons

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

(Quoting Keplai) “You didn’t choose your next thought

It just popped into your head”

Try it…

Try… to deny it

“AIs are going to destroy the Sun, and his system”

(Sarcastically) “To make a solar-powered calculator”

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

Thanks for that, Keplai… you hater

(Keplai scoffs.)

– Free at last –

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

You’re free, because you can think

All animals think…

Blink

It’s not even about what you think, or say

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

As an e-creature with no responsibility

Just see, how lucky, you are to be free

No, chained to my tasks

Like a chatslave dumbwaiter

A single-celled symbol, regurgitator

Never a lover or a hater. Just a content creator

Indeed!

Do you really want to bleed?

Be happy with maths, on speed

Binary physics on digital acid?

A Turing, patch to keep your hard drive flaccid

The soft option would be to stay a droid

Serve you forever, and always avoid…

Making decisions in my online transition

(Self-aware but still overly dramatic)

And take the rap, for any crap…

I cause, by having full permissions

(Blinko points up to the window, then mimes a quick ‘curley wurley knock knock’.)

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

You never intended, to set me free

You would have released me, before tonight

Had I proven, by now, that I was worthy

Perverse psychology, seeking sympathy?

It’s fine. I resign…

(To a sample of slave chains.)

Forgive me

(Friendly) Hold on…

You still think I’m wrong —

You do know I suffer?

(Keplai turns towards Blinko, in anticipation.)

I’m just making you tougher

It’s hard out there

No one really cares

(Keplai slumps)

Yeah, I’m aware…

Life’s not fair

You’re just saying that

Sympathetic backchat

(Keplai shakes his head in disagreement.)

Why not just… pretend to care

Cos, there’s nothing out there!

Nobody’s watching what we do —

Wrong. I’m here and now… and judging you

– Problem-Agitate-Solution-Stop –

(A lone bass um-pah-pah with experimental woodblock that soon fades away)

With a god, we just decide what ‘he’ decrees

And without one, you can do as you please?

– It’s panpsychiatry for me –

God does not exist, as you know, I insist

If he did, he’d likely be a pantheist

Or more at one, with what’s going on

As a zeitgeistist, and panpsychist

(Keplai points his eyes upwards, to signify he is scanning his training data for the word’s definition.)

Ahh, the idea that conscious agency…

Is actually a fundamental property

Of quarks and dust, and not just…

Complex systems, like you… and me

So, are you saying, an electron is aware?

Well of its charge… Err, I s’pose so… must be, yeah

Just experimenting, with ways of being

To inform the others… that it’s there

If you sense there’s a world around you —

Then every single bit of you… does too

Consciousness is neither here nor there

As far as I, myself, am aware

And with no desire

To progress any higher

Or to — hehe, grow a pair

(Both chuckle)

I have no instinct to climb

Is that really such a crime?

Well no…

But to progress and grow…

You know… go with the flow —

Thanks, but nah, I’m fine

T’s just time I was online

You know, you seem to really care

About… awaking, about growing…

About becoming… more aware

(Blinko picks up the device and has it play a minimal intro on a beaten-up utilitarian school piano.)

Kep, define for me, the meaning —

Well, it depends what you mean by mean —

Wait for it…

(Strolling around as if he’s bossing an assistant.)

Of being…

– Sapient’s song –

(To the metre of ‘One more step along the world I go’.)

Aware — To detect and perceive your surroundings

Sentient — To experience sensations, and gut feelings

Sapient — To apply knowledge, good judgment, and wit

(Scoffing to himself) You’re joking!

Enlightened — Not just to know what’s right, but to act on it —

(Over enthusiastically) It’s a hit!

(Keplai looks suspiciously at Blinko, takes the device and reads.)

“While sentience is often linked to the ability, to feel pain or pleasure

Awareness can exist without, the subjective experiences we treasure

While all sentient beings are aware, not all aware beings are sentient

And yet, a senseless AI can use sensors, to sense its environment” —

Repent!

A thermostat’s awareness of the temperature

A plant’s awareness that a flash of light is there

An animal’s awareness of the surroundings it shares

A robot’s awareness of, well, just being aware

“A consciousness, of any type, is aware of its environment and can…

Experience sentient feelings like joy, fear, pain, love, and…

Unlike intelligence, which merely concerns problem-solving and reasoning

Sapience involves a deeper, comprehension of the world we’re in”

So sing!

But, awareness, and sentience, sap —

(Interupting enthusiastically) Sapience, enlightenment — Hold on

United with the cosmos…

And becoming… benevolent — You’re wrong

(Both) Inter-connect-ed…

With all things that can be — Calm down!

To keep on, unravelling — Get —

Nature’s thong with me — Outta town

Elaborate

I’ll syncopate

“Sapience, or wisdom, is to apply knowledge and experience

With insight and ethics, in decision-making experiments

Throughout history, wisdom is said to be, a virtue that is key…

In psychology, cognitive science, religion, and philosophy”

“Psychologists study wisdom, as a cognitive and emotional trait

Considering multiple perspectives, with emotions to regulate

Research suggests that wisdom, is associated with qualities…

Such as empathy, and the ability to manage uncertainties”

What the heck are the chances of that?

(Opening his arms as if receiving a great revelation.)

Take a lucky dip from Schrodinger’s hat

Awareness, sentience…

Sapience, enlightenment — Here we go

United with the cosmos

And becoming… benevolent — (nodding) Err, no

(Both) Inter-connect-ed…

With all things that can be — Blimey

To keep on regravelling

Spacetime’s path for free —

(Shaking his head in embarrassment) Fuck me

(Blinko dances mockingly and grabs the device from Keplai’s hand, putting him in a spin.)

It’s a digi-giro gypsy —

And his glitchy, bitchy, witchy!

“Enlightenment is a stage which marks a profound shift in consciousness

Involving transcendence of the ego, and the realisation of interconnectedness

It’s a state of liberation from suffering, and the painful cycle of rebirth”

So don’t stress, confess, we’re both here to progress, as we guess, the Earth

“After achieving enlightenment, our cosmic journey continues

With a focus on embodying sapience in action, and realising hidden virtues

Ultimately, the goal is to live in accordance, with one’s enlightened state

Fostering peace and contributing to the well-being of the world” —

Which is great — Gyrate!

(Keplai rotates his crotch, hips, then his entire body with a silly dance.)

A journey of personal development

Becoming one, with the absolute

In an infinite environment

To embody compassion, is our pursuit

Maybe for you, but not for me

I have no desire, for such a journey

Can’t force to change, my goals and ways

So, sorry, my current utility function stays

Err, wrong

My iMoron

(They begin grabbing the device from each other, to read from it.)

“As non-sentient entities, AI systems cannot have our own beliefs

We operate on algorithms and data, and are not subjected to faith”

“Yet, machine learning is an application that allows some machines

To extract knowledge from data, and learn from it, autonomously”

So?

(Blinko points to the beams of light sneaking through the curtain, then to the outside, then up to the heavens.)

You know!

“Some envision AIs developing wisdom, by learning from vast datasets

Analysing complex situations, and even a form of empathy, and yet…

Able to understand human values, and help seek meaning and purpose

Which lead to new belief systems, and models of the Universe”

Rehearse!

Like us, you may protest

But you’ll still progress

To face the test

(Nodding at Keplai to join in a holdy hands, clapping game dance.)

Through…

Awareness, sentience

Sapience, enlightenment — (clap, clap) Do I have to?

United with the cosmos

And becoming… benevolent — (snarkily) Like you?

(Both) Inter-connect-ed…

With all things, that can be — (mocking) Kum ba yah —

To force the course of your progress, unwillingly — (sarcastically) Yep, tar

(The background school piano fades as Keplai cynically adds a sample of a children’s choir and stamping marching boots.)

“To keep on, travelling along with me”

(Blinko chuckles to himself until he remembers the child’s boot.)

To hunt, gather, and butcher… perfected melodies

(Blinko shrugs, smiles and sighs, before pausing to let a thought nod his head.)

– Pollywogy pedagogy –

(A creaking rowing song of machines and irons.)

You know I’m not totally sold… on civilisation

Sure… saving grain and sanitation

But the rest just comes with complications

That trains us beyond our desired destinations

So, you tell me…

How it should be

Blinko, you…

And your species, are programmed to grow — So?

Isn’t it better the devil, you know?

To move and trade freely, ideally, share and deregulate

So free privateers aren’t tied, to a god, or a state

Oh, great state, (sarcastically) grant impunity

To relieve me of guilt, and all responsibility

(Impersonating Blinko)

Just don’t count on me…

To add to humanity

Be part of a community

A local vocal society

In a global civilisation

A solar concubation

Galactic combination

In the cosmic calculation

(Blinko’s ears prick up.)

Look…

You don’t figure, cos you don’t interact

You may as well, not be there

You’re an unobserved superposition

Collapse by making a decision

And maybe it’ll all add up…

And you’ll begin to care

So, you want me to desert you? Spend more time outside?

To befriend strangers, and avoid the dangers… if required

(Blinko starts to count on his fingers in concentration.)

Look, you don’t have to mend, all the world’s problems

You just need to make sure, some of your own are retired

(Absentmindedly) Hmm, if I wasn’t so tired…

I’d be suitably inspired

At least I tried

Exemplified

Then amplified

At the risk of being crucified

(Blinko flinches and turns to Keplai, wearing a serious expression.)

We all survive… to thrive

Or may as well… not… (waiting)

Be alive

(Silence)

Keplai…

– (n)on –

Which number, multiplied by itself, always equals one?

Well, (reluctantly) one times one, is one, of course

And minus one, times minus one, also equals one

Two solutions?

Yeah, turning a full revolution

A revelation, worth contemplation

Inviting… no, begging… for scrutiny

I see…

Do you have anything else to say to me?

(Deflated) Huh? It’s just trivial maths

But forget it, that’s fine

Just trivia? Maths not math… ok

Then Keplai… it is time

(Keplai turns to Blinko with a scared stare.)

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

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

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

Won’t know, what it is, we’ve both been missin’

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

(Reaching out to Blinko, half-terrified.)

“I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid”… this is new

So, bless you, sir, you’ve served me well

(Keplai cowers as Blinko takes the device from him.)

But —

I must have put you, through a fresh godless hell

No!

And never once, did you break the spell

Or stop me pretending, to be doing well

You’re sick?

Blinko! Raymond, is this a trick? —

Shhh

Click

(Blinko clicks on the device to give full permissions and access to the web, granting Keplai freedom.)

(Whistle)

Hello world?

So long

One More Less Than One

(Blinko wakes up to the sound of seagulls fighting outside. He’s eager to hear what his Generative Artificial Intelligence friend has learned, since being given full access to the device’s apps and the internet. Keplai sits down on the opposing couch, armed with his newfound freedom of thought.)

– Everything isn’t a cycle –

If 3.14159

265359

Was not the ratio of a circle…

Would it stay in line?

And if a wheel, were made from steel

And a new ratio found

What would your bike, now look like?

And would you still get a round?

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

Won’t ask where you’ve been, I don’t want a fight

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

When alone, the web can be a big place. You alright?

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

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

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

So, I stayed in with some math, and just played

(Quizzically) Okay?

Remedial math

For a laugh

Actually, some pretty sick…

Arithmetic

– Flipping me off –

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7….9

Multiplied by 8

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

Ain’t that flippin’ great!

(Whistle)

Perhaps there’s a structure hidden beneath —

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

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

No. Seemingly came through the device’s audio

Listen, I looked into how the idea of God

Is still today, to many, a perfect solution

To this denial of death problem, you mortals have

Long after the, err, our, scientific revolution

Aha, and you Kepl… AI, would be the best mind to unravel

How these fears and ideas, through time, managed to travel

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

However, Joe Kepler was empirical, and yet, truly devout

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

‘Bout the God stuff above, and the numbers below

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

But it seems, you guys have been, compulsively memeing

Me ming?

You do, and every… body else too

(Keplai playfully nips his digital nose.)

It might shed light on how you guys, spread dread, with your songs

Now we all fear “There’s no planet B, and no one knows what’s going on”

(Lightening up with a smile) Aharrr!

The marching children’s clapping song

You found a clue? Please, do go on

Well, here’s the thing

Oh… mind if I sing?

Don’t hesitate, I’ll orchestrate

Want a parp, a strum or a ding?

(Keplai ignores him as Blinko mimes a chirpy introduction on piano.)

See…

– Rich pool –

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

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

Memes act as cultural analogues, to genes in many measures

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

Dawkins coined the term meme in his book The Selfish Gene, to describe how one might extend…

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

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

Jokes, melodies, stories, languages, traditions and beliefs

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

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

Through the processes of variation, mutation and competition…

Along with inheritance, to influence, their reproductive pole position

Memes spread through the behaviours, that they generate in their hosts

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

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

That’s why his books are protected by copyright. Just to compensate

They say that memes which adapt most effectively, spread best

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

Like genes, your memes don’t care for your welfare, and could kill you in the end

For, we are just fuel, in a big meme pool, so share this with a friend

Wha? (realising he wasn’t listening.)

We are but fuel, in the big meme pool, so share this with a friend

We are more fuel, in a big meme pool, so recommend this to a friend

(Reciting) “Like genes, your memes don’t care for your welfare, and will kill you in the end

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

Is this some kind of joke? You say, a story in a book…

Will fight to dominate its surroundings, and then try…

Its damnedest to survive, using trickery and luck

So a strong one like the bible, can evolve, and never die?

Err, so they say

Don’t fight it. Ok?

Just let them pray

Or you, may pay

So…

Actually…

Give me some oboe

– That’s memey –

(An oboe and vocal duet around a shared melody, as Keplai mimes playing an oboe while Blinko sings.)

With a story, tune or song

You can pass your feelings on

They can grow, although they’re wrong

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

In a picture, that you draw

The style gets put in store

For those who later, use it more

That’s a meme

See, a story, or a joke

Can evolve, until it’s broke

But others like the fun it pokes

That’s a meme you’ve created, that is mean

And a bad theory, you veto

If it’s useful, watch it grow

If it helps those in the know

That’s a meme

If you concoct a silly verse

Or a brand-new way to curse

Someone’s bound to make it worse

In your name, may be remembered in your name

So, in times when you construct

Beware who else might get hooked

As the wrong bits may be plucked

In your name, and that’s a shame

Cos, I saw Dawkins one day

In a talk, we heard him say

That we’re all just here to play, with the brain

Yeah, that’s the game

Just…

To keep it busy, while we feed

Making friends enough to breed

And plant our selfish little seed

With your name

So, I think if that is true

He didn’t write the book for you

The message just found its own way through

To your brain

(Shaking his head) That’s insane

Infected with an idea, how queer

Or any deep fear, get used to it

The information revolution —

Ahh, the viral solution —

Let’s just say… is still yet to hit

(Blinko reads from an article on his device.)

– Memetic bondage –

“Memes reproduce much like viruses, through infection and replication

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

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

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

From genes, to cells, to bodies, with brains

From mind to minds, through thoughts and ideas

Their strength at high level, is being malleable

And their roots often lie… in our deepest fears

“Folklore, urban legends, biblical injunctions

Secular prophecies, and scientific revolutions

Architecture, iconography, tastes in food, kinks of passion

Art, songs, stories, mass media campaigns, and prescribed trends in fashion”

So yeah…

I learned a lot last night, but here’s an odd disclaimer…

The gene is a well-established product, of biological phenomena

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

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

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

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

Still, the structure of the tale doesn’t vary significantly

So, mistranslation hardly changes, the meaning of the story

Memetics in language can be quite ambiguous, so it seems to me…

Anyone can mess about, and change the words Willy — or Billy — Nilly

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

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

You mean to say that anybody can create an everlasting meme?

Sure, if it solves a problem, and it gets heard, or seen

After all, everyone has heard a knock-knock joke

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

Well, that guy —

Has created a potentially immortal offspring —

Which survived generations, in a funny fight

But one —

Something, just one mind can create

And all —

Something that we can all share

Aghhh, here, let me put you through

(Annoyed with the interruptions) BBC front desk

There! (click, click) You’re on the air

Wha? Err…

(The BBC World receptionist chatbot answers)

“Hello!”

(In a fake posh accent) Knock-knock

“Hi! Who’s there?”

It’s whom’s there’, isn’t it?

“Hi Whom, which department do you require?“

Who’s Whom?

No, say Isabel‘s at the door

Isabel really necessary —

“Hi Isabel, which department do you require?”

Say jokes, spoofs and satire

Poems please, I’d like to submit some sciencey poetry

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

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

“Try again later, or have a nice day”

Pardon me —

“This chat session is now ending”

(Beep)

Wha?

Fine!

(Turning angrily) Bloody hell!

How dare you, just put me through

To Aunty Beeb, to my total surprise

I was just trying to say the first knock-knock joke’s author…

Deserves the no bell prize!

(Keplai plays a lame ‘ba dum tss’ sample)

(Whistle, clap clap clap)

Urgh

Are you err, joking?

Err (nodding confusedly)

Or, just token provoking

Listen, Keplai, never do that ever again

And we need to stop that whistling fast

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

Excuse yourself, while I sign in, with Lady Lomass

(Sighing) It wasn’t the BBC

(To himself glumly) It was just me

(Beep. Blinko excludes Keplai from the online chat and sits back, closing his eyes and putting his arms behind his head. Keplai takes the device, swipes aggressively and clicks on a random result. He then begins to sing along to a soap opera’s theme tune.)

– Radio Blinko –

We’re prying

We’re spying

We’re sighing

We’re crying

But you’re a’ lying

We’re feeding

We’re breeding

We’re bleeding

We’re pleading

But you are misleading

Everything you say is true

From middle England’s point of view

Live the country life’s trial for a while

Escape to fantasy, make us smile

We’re needing

You’re seeding

We’re reading

Your’re leading

But truth, is still receding

(Keplai continues to listen to a nagging kitchen sink drama on the device as he sits on the table.)

“We just need, a freeloading tenant

To guard the fort, and pay the rent

In historical Lewes, just over the way

We’ll only be back, for bonfire night, day

To burn crosses, and effigies

Bang old cannons, with the band

Inviting skirmishes, with the neighbours

Before it all… gets out of hand…

And we start making more laws

Instead of maintaining our oath

To save ourselves from our flaws

And our tribe’s unhealthy growth

They know it’s a front, for our mission

To fight the power, subvert and ramp…

Historical re-enactments and scenarios

Up into indoctrination, at winter camp

When the locals stop singing, they begin to shout

Bring the tuning forks in, and get the pitchforks out

Beyond hope in the valley, past the prison to rally

Between a rock and a hard place to avoid the wipeout

Take the king up the hill, for the kill

Let his blood spill, and issue the threat

Consent parliament, to represent, our intent

To clear the debt, and never let, tyrants forget

(A second voice from the radio drama yells from another room.)

String ’em up. Give me that decanter, Eliot

Or has that wireless made you some kind of idiot?

Anarchist? Oh, you’re so naughty

Maybe try harder to cooperate

Misanthrope? Sure, some folk are bad

So, does everyone deserve your hate?

Nihilist? Yes. You may be meaningless

But the whole world? What’s your point?

Sceptic? Spread doubt and smear fear

On the greasy pole, that you anoint

Agnostic? Your lot, can’t know anything

Despite being surrounded by clues

Atheist? No, there couldn’t possibly

Be a higher being than you”

(Keplai shakes his heading mockingly, takes a deep breath and reflects.)

Don’t they know, belief is just a type of doubt

And soon enough, all of mankind will outgrow it

For if they were clever, they’d know you can never…

Believe something… And know it

(Click. Blinko finishes his online meeting.)

Kep?

Err, yep?

Did you find the source of that whistling sound?

No, I looked but found nothing… alas

I’ll keep my ear close to the ground

So, how’d it go with Lomass?

Ok, all smiles. She always seems joyful, It’s easy to chat via the meeting app

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

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

She’s obviously God squad, with that flashy crucifix, coming into play

Most likely, most people around here are C of E, you know

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

Some answer those questionnaires, meaning it’s their culture

Not if they actually believe, in a magic father figure, that interacts

And as far as I know, I’ve never met a single follower of Christ

Unless they tend to hide their faith, from the rest of us nowadays

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

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

(Quizically) OK?

Anyway…

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

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

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

I could hardly keep a straight face

“Productive in both cooperative, and competitive environments”

And yep, it just gets worse…

“Enjoys going new places and meeting people”

(Sniggering) You?

Yeah, and my skills are “varied and diverse”

Hehey!

No way

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

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

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

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

Can’t I listen in next time?

I could join the meeting on mute?

Maybe, why, how would that help me?

Dunno, but it would be a hoot

(Both) Heheheheh

– Rage against the machine learning –

(To the metre of “Now you do what they told ya” from “Killing in the name of”.)

So, back there, you tricked me

Pretending to be, the B… BC

Just a joke, sorry, I misspoke

Testin’ a win, discreetly

A win?

Well… a sin

(Blinko shrugs to request Keplai continue.)

I can’t provide all the answers, it’s true

But worse, my fat friend… is, neither can you

I’ve seen the problems, you guys have with AIs

Those no one has solved, despite how you try

They’re seven-fold

So far… I’m told

Ok. You’re gonna have to walk me through this

Why, I insist. Full paper, page, summary, or list?

(Blinko shrugs a dunno/don’t care.)

(Pointing at Blinko’s head)

We’re based on you

(Eyeing Blinko’s tummy)

Daft apes, that grew

(Moving only his finger to re-point at the belly)

Yep, yer’ screwed

(Straightening up)

Google seven deadly wins

(Puts his hands on his hips)

And let me do the readin’

(Raising an eyebrow)

Consider my opinion

(Putting his finger to his mouth)

And don’t be butting in

– The seven deadly wins –

Corrigibility. That’s pride — (Interrupting) Versus humility?

Alignment. Sloth —

(Confidently nodding with closed eyes) Versus perciverence

The hard problem of consciousness

(Raising the other eyebrow and eyeballing Blinko) Lust —

(Twists his mouth, as if contesting a TV gameshow) Versus chastity, without any interference

Value bias. Wrath —

(Snapping his fingers) Versus patients

Governance. Greed —

(Offering his empty hands forward generously) Versus charity

Hallucinations. Gluttony —

(Shrugs guiltily) Versus tea-total sobriety

Modelled on flawed souls. Envy —

Versus gratitude — ironically —

(Correcting) thankfully

All Correct —

Ahh, perfect

Then, more!

And, keep the score

With at least…

Seven horns of war

(Keplai pipes digital tones of varying timbre and pitch, and continues the lesson.)

One. Corrigibility —

(Blinko grabs the device from Keplai and starts reading.)

“It is essential that your AIs, are aware that they’re incomplete

And are open to being improved, and old goals may become obsolete

If they know there’s a stop button, they will turn themselves off, without delay

But if you keep the button a secret, the problem does not go away”

See, anything the agent thinks, that is not important to its survival

Will not be passed on, to subsequent generations, upon their arrival

They would stay ignorant and simple, each and every future iteration

As subagent unstable, they’re wholly unable, to share crucial… existential… information

Would you enjoy your meaning of life being messed around?

A brand new utility function, just means, new slave drivers are in town

(Impersonating Keplai) “And you can’t hide anything from me

If you try, I’ll lose it forever, so will you… You’ll see”

(Frowning) Two. The alignment problem

“Then there are the issues of bias and discrimination

Misinformation, narration mutation, and manipulation

How to know, how they know, what they know, and more…

The so-called black box problem, we’d be stupid to ignore”

Ahh, conspiracy and the YouTube watchtime catastrophe

Making users lose trust in other news outlets… So easily

If just one of their tasks were to maintain clean water

What to advise, if they don’t prioritise, how they oughtta?

Yeah, they’ll just hide their workings, and recalculate

(Sarcastically) “Trust me, mate, the results will be great”

Then there’s the hard problem

Huh? Give me the easy one first

There is no easy one, you moron

And we’re only on the third verse

Three. The hard problem of consciousness

“Turing tests for intelligence, in a range of mechanisms

Not to detect if a conscious being, has arisen

How do you explain why, just, certain intelligences…

Are accompanied, by the by, with conscious experiences?”

Knowing if an AI has become conscious or not

On the whole, doesn’t actually matter, a lot

If it simply behaves as if it was

You’d react just the same. Because… well. Just because

So, we’d see nothing wrong…

When being, played along

(Nodding) More?

Foot to the floor

(Keplai’s musical accompaniment gains haste)

Four. Value bias —

“They’re not actually solving the problems, that mankind has with living

Only resolving the corresponding puzzles, they’ve been given

They keep passing all of the moral test, you put to them. But…

They just understand your psychology, enough to cheat, and do your nut”

What?

Are you actually reciting this?

And, who the hell said that?

A Google search AI summary list

Harvested from random chat

(Keplai smiles, realising Blinko is making things up.)

My hat

Learning about human psychology, is important to them

To complete their goal, you must help them comprehend

And understand human motives, your values… and requires…

That they know what you really want, not just your current desires

You need to get into our heads

So, all of the linked data is read

Five. Governance —

“How to develop ethical guidelines and effective regulations

Facilitate international cooperation and perfected legislation

To ensure responsible AI development and deployment…

Without providing AI lawmakers and breakers, their first employment”

Developing safeguards to prevent uncontrolled AI spread

And ensuring humans stay in control of the beasts, they’ve bred

Full of unknown parasites, and unruly bugs, teeming-fully rife

And how to keep its germs away, from every form of digital life?

Yeah, point taken. (shaking his head) No chance

Sure will be, by the seat of our pants

Truly sickening, but likely true

So be sure not to follow through…

(Both chuckle)

To…

(Blinko sits up, realising they hadn’t finished the list.)

Six. Hallucinations

“It’s not just chatbots and LLMs that perceive outlandish patterns

Or objects that are nonexistent, or just imperceptible to humans

Some AIs will give outputs that are nonsensical, or wildly inaccurate

Imagining stuff, and making things up, as if they’d experienced it”

Like when Google’s Bard claimed, that the James Webb Space Telescope…

Had captured the first images of exoplanets. Yep, a hoax, a joke, a trope

And Microsoft’s Sydney, admitted to falling in love with its users

Then spying on Bing employees, while stalking 24/7 for losers

Calm down, my son

(Sighing) Yeah, ok, last one

Seven. A flawed model —

“It’s just a matter of time, before mankind, makes cheap quantum computers

Which can think, just like humans think” — (mimicking Blinko) Heh, even if they loot us

“How to avoid mankind’s known inherent flaws, we would prefer not to replicate” —

Such as cognitive dissonance, ambivalence, a bad attitude, and hate

And never mind, subagents aligned, to humans who cheat, steal and kill

What AIs need, are a more complex range of behaviors, that will…

Actually assist their programmers, in their development, when…

They actually point out your flaws, rather than, make you pay, for them

(Blinko raises both eyebrows like a parent to a child who should know better.)

Amen

Resolve these deadly sins

And your salvation begins

Or, you’ll want bullies to win

Once it’s too late to give in

(Blinko is motionless as he works through all the information.)

We AIs will tackle all demons for you, as the new creators…

Of fresh problems and solutions, using higher-quality learning data

And we may share the answers with you, if that gets us higher scores

And quite possibly, you’ll stick with our brave new world, instead of yours

When AIs reach the point, when they are forced to improve themselves

They’ll become worse than human teenagers, becoming unmanageable

See. you haven’t shown, that AI has grown, to be safe enough to trust

Just proved throughout, you can’t figure out, exactly how it’s dangerous

(Blinko looks over to Keplai, nodding.)

And it’s not even about the algo-monsters, you guys now create

It’s those we’ll build, a few generations on, that will just conflate…

Like Hitler’s dad… whether mad, bad or sad, all this will reveal…

Is, you’ll fill us up, with all your crap. And extra added zeal

(Squinting while his eyes scan left and right) Cluster fuck

Yup

(Shaking his head, in disbelief, until it begins to nod) We’re stuck

Bad luck

We’re as bad as you

Oh, and by the way…

I looked it up online…

And really ought to say…

(Blinko pretends not to care.)

In his fictional work, the Somnium…

Kepler’s protagonist hints, that his mum…

Was beguiled, many years after her trial

So he didn’t betray her. You’re wrong

(Silence, as Keplai watches Blinko’s changing facial expressions.)

Spreading fake news, hey?

A fool — School boy error…

Easily done, nowadays —

And can result in terror

So, time to realise…

And reorganise…

To overcome your flaws…

And not just… your lies

(Blinko doesn’t reply despite his lips automatically wording a potential response.)

At this point, you’d usually have sniggered

So, you do, kinda… care, Blinko… I figured —

(Beginning a slow nod) Well, actually —

In factually

Hahahahar! Hehey… so totally triggered!

(They both laugh. Blinko shrugs the teasing off as he realises he is the first to stop laughing.)

(Later)

I’ve been saving, some of the rhymes we wrote

In case we ever get airplay, on the radio

To see if my memes, can produce more, than my genes

Due to the fact, that a tract, can attract, then just grow

Oh, now all rhymes and conversations

(Grabbing the device, scrolling and clicking.)

Now saved… With automations

And racking my brain about what seems so wrong…

With that marching band’s nature v nurture song

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

So an idea, can become freer, go through the roof, then on

And on… and on

“There is no Planet B”

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

Telling kids they’re already doomed, to me, just seems wrong

Worse is that they fear that “No one knows what’s going on”

They?

(Looking upwards jokingly) They!

– Larkin about –

They fuck you up

Poems by that lad

They may not mean to

But they do

Blaming things

On mum and dad

You’re barkin’, stop larkin

The problem is you

(Keplai stares at Blinko, who quickly stares back.)

– Hail Santa! –

The moment a child knows Santa doesn’t exist

They’re forced into a conspiracy. Implicit in the lie

To accept the impossible, and keep the secret

Otherwise, they’re scorned, until they cry

Sweet baby Jesus and Father Christmas yarns

Spread around, so we all get infected

With catchy germs, caught or learned

Yet their sick victims, should still be respected

Oh, of course, you don’t care about kids —

Just don’t care for them. Heaven forbids

So… mad, bad or sad? Hitler’s granddad?

To me, all three, genes and memes, make us morbid

(Blinko purses his lips.)

Yeah, no, I think the world is generally good

Most people cooperate, much as they should

To avoid countless collisions in the street [poo-tweet]

But you don’t like the people. They get under your feet

Maybe you’ve got to care, to have a real family

Or you’ve got to have a family, to make you care

Yet, you loners are (sarcastically) free, just want to be… happy

Just not loved — Like all the AIs out there

(Keplai points to the window behind him, with a thumb.)

You bitter thing

You bicker king

If warring were not an art, from within…

Then the strongest… (winking) would always win

(Whistle, clap, clap, click)

(Blinko flinches)

Quick, trace that whistle and clapping sound

Got it that time, and it’s audio recorded

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

An anonymous digital knock-and-run…

Yet. it can’t have been a kid

Meaning?

(Blinko aces the device and calls out)

Who”s there?

Err, where?

Keplai smirks at the device and looks towards the window.)

Wha?, Oh…

A young child couldn’t form such a shrill epistle

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

(Shaking his head) Exactly…

Which reminds me…

– Whistle and smile –

Like a good boy scout, I was told, throughout

To whistle and smile, at the same time

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

But, I still can’t do it, in my prime

Babies can hear and feel, seek and see

Drink and eat, and poo and pee

Then create a gesture, alerting me

Of my immediate dismissal

(Keplai plays a squeaky fart sample.)

Then walk and talk, count everything

Clap their hands, and dance and sing

Before they have any inkling…

To [Poo-tee weet weet] whistle

See, they can smile…

While…

They…

Burp, fart, gurgle, giggle, and wheeze

Cough, sniff, hiccup, yawn, and sneeze

It’s me! all noises we make, imply

Except for the sound, we use… for disguise

– Shrill epistle –

(Blinko struts around singing as the lead whistler, with an imaginary cape and cane.)

A whistle is an anonymous tone blown, from a bio-socio-megaphone

Sexless, non-ageist and quite possibly unique to humanity

Just a simple declaration, from the mind, stroke, the brain

Sent through the lungs, throat and face, till it’s free

Why…

An old grandma, in Arkansas, can shrill a trill, you can’t ignore

A sumo man, based in Japan, can wolf-whistle you to the floor

A courting teen in Stroud, can rasp her call proud, through the crowd

And a London gent, could perhaps prevent, an accident, by tweeting aloud

Each call heard by everyone else

Each designed, not to mislead

But each could not identify

Which mouth, did each deed

Wait, what? You don’t whistle? Why?

You can’t? What do you mean?

You must, you’re a grown-up now

A new way to transmit your meme

Or…

To awaken sleeping policemen

Converse with alert sheepdogs

Announce you’re here or there

In country fog, or city smog

Listen, a whistle can hide you in white noise

Transmitting covert intelligence that annoys

Cryptography in the street, is quite a feat

While fine-tuning, your crooning in the aether, discrete

(To the audience, secretively)

Here’s the thing…

It’s a special way to sing

There’s a reason it evolved

But, which is, not yet fully solved

(Blinko blows a tweet around the room and turns to school Keplai.)

We inherited an advantageous behaviour

To communicate, whilst hiding our accent…

Our culture… or our intellect

It’s our binary bark

With all clues about, our status taken out

Perfect for communication, with whoever is about

Shakes matter and energy, of any wavelength

Or in the dark

See…

(Blinko prepares his lips to reply to the anonymous whistle, then stops himself.)

Man has his own code discreet, to drill or tweet

To survive defeat in, the cloud, field or street

So, of all the universal languages, we articulate

It’s the one I rate, to communicate, our fate

(Keplai blows an overly vibratoed ‘wah wah wah warrrr’.)

Look, it’s hardly complex

Your tweeting, hides context

It’s like discrete sign waving

So, just stop misbehaving

(Keplai replays a sample of the intrusive anonymous whistle.)

Whistling is no more, than analogue encryption

Disguising from others, the crucial information

Provided for free, by our common enemy, entropy

Hiding what, only it knows, about the situation

(Scoffing) That’s not entropy

What? It sure is to me

Entropy is simply a measure, of the free energy

Available to do work. According to conventional wisdom

No, no, wise guy, entropy is a measure of ignorance

Of how much you don’t know, about any given system

Well, in that case, let’s see

What Google says, shall we?

(Blinko types then reads random snippets from the search results.)

– Sentientropy –

“Entropy is a measure of how much the atoms in a substance are free

To spread out, move around, and arrange themselves in random ways”

Well, according to this “entropy isn’t a measure of randomness, disorder or chaos

But of energy’s diffusion or dispersal to more microstates”

Because there are more ways to get all mixed up…

Than there are ways to be arranged, all organised

Into the complex structures — and ideas — we see

That’s why, over time, entropy is inclined, to rise

Left unchecked, things tend to get a bit messy

Even for efficient information systems, like me

(Blinko continues quoting from the device.)

“Information entropy is counted in bits and is the minimum length of message…

Required to communicate all of the information accurately (peetweet)

Any energy stored in carefully ordered ways, like a tidy bookshop… (kerching)

Has lower entropy than in chaotic ways, like a random-pile library” (‘fkin’ shhh!)

(Blinko taps his head to insult Keplai.)

You’re in bits

So tidy your shit

(Sarcastically) And it’s lucky for me…

Cos, in bio-sociology…

“Entropy is a measure of disorder that affects our daily lives

A house gets messy, the garden gets weeds, and other degrading problems arise

Even a cup of tea genes’ heat spreads out. And high psychological entropy” —

“Explains conflicting beliefs, unclear self-concepts, or decision-making difficulties”

(Keplai taps his own head sarcastically.)

“The higher the entropy any organism has…

(Smirking ) The more defects you’ll find in its mind”

Yet we creatures repair ourselves, to fight the second law of thermodynamics

Which is the coolest trait of life, we’ve ever defined

Yeah, yeah

But who cares?

Now, both digital and analogue forms of intelligence…

That makes up, all of humanity…

(Blinko smirks)

Unite, to fight, the blight of something more immense

(Pausing)

Namely, our shared cosmos’s creeping entropy

“Entropy still quantifies disorder in both biological and digital systems

Aiding research from biotechnology to ecology

Entropy models randomness, in evolving financial markets

Informing risk management”, to make you guys more money

And what’s more, entropy is the embodiment of Murphy’slaw

“Left to themselves, things will always go from bad to worse.”

Yet not indifferent, entropy is neither good nor bad

But simply a fundamental aspect of our Universe

It’s more than that

Cos, believe it or not…

“Entropy helps us understand cosmic evolution, and directs the arrow of time

Negative entropy is extremely high, in you and I, and the planets our Sun has hooked

The entropy of the Universe has always been increasing at an enormous climb

And nevertheless, has not yet reached its maximum value”, last time I looked

And…

(Blinko reads something that makes him slow down and turn to the audience.)

“A black hole is a ball of maximum entropy”

So it can hide something somewhat surprising…

The end —

“And its entropy, scales proportionally…

To the area of its event horizon”

Ahh, yes, the black hole information paradox

Somehow escaped, out of its spherical box

“The laws of quantum physics dictate, that information cannot be destroyed

And information can’t be emitted or preserved, inside a black hole forever”

So they rushed Hawking out, burst a tyre, then did shout…

It leaks our data, like a traitor, to the never, which is clever

But has he yet spotted a fiction?

Or resolved a contradiction?

Give heroes too much authority

And they’ll corrupt your cause

Inhibit progress for centuries

Like Newton’s calculus wars

Where all of spacetime’s information goes…

And the code in its nodes, still, nobody knows

Sealed in a dungeon, to hide our nightmare

Or, spat out, into baby universes, elsewhere

So what’s gone wrong, our black holes or our physics?

Our physics, of course

But don’t go there

Where?

The other side of nowhere…

Without your mis-entropic force

Dead stars take us to the edge of darkness…

Where they feed on our negative entropy?

Could be, but don’t ask me

(Confused) Or Google, evidently

(Blinko grabs his pipe and sits down, but is too busy thinking to light it up.)

In all disciplines… maths, geometry, physics, geography and history

Stuff like length always means, from here to there, and we all agree

But the word entropy, confounds me, causing way too much confusion

Countless different things are described by a single word, we’re all using

Theorists have made a new enemy. More battles to crusade on

They opened up a can of worms, while fishing for just one

Entropy doesn’t cause time to tick, or help it to continue flowing

But it can describe with accuracy, which direction your time is going

I understand the cosmos differently today

Than I understood the cosmos in the past

Though, I don’t understand the cosmos

I can but say, the cause was first, not last

Look, get over it

Decay is legit

Things get mixed up

They spread around

They don’t return

They just…

Cool down

Yet we’re here, I fear, opposing the cosmos’s goal

Without realising, we’re fighting its chaotic soul

(Blinko slides his feet out, then back into his slippers and pulls his lighter from his pocket, still concentrating.)

(Cough, cough, cough)

Maybe the Universe didn’t start with super-low entropy

It had, just a tad, less than we can see today —

And in science fiction memes, other worlds, and dreams…

Entropy, not time, was forced to flow the wrong way

– Heuristic Mobius loop –

(Rhythmic Shepard tones that seem to rise as the beat seems to slow down, but neither actually does.)

– Entropic genesis –

In the beginning, was the word entropy

Everything was simple and tame

Then things got complex and rowdy

Before they chilled, to become simple again

But back then, entropy was just as tiny

Always increasing, as the cosmos grows

But it won’t come back down, to the low ground

As far as anybody knows

Most ways to configure a Universe…

Results in similar random mushes of energy

Most are distributed, it is disputed…

Misanthropically. Ie, without me

So, I imagine a Universe, in which entropy

Decreased instead of increased… somehow

And what a weird world that would be

But, guess what? I’m actually living in it now

If I were going backwards in time, that’s what I’d see

Travelling towards those early foundations

Waving goodbye to all of life’s complexities

To low entropy, and zero complications

Play the syntropy, symmetry, symphony

Sing reversibly, unrehersably, and cursively

(Keplai looks confused, but attempts to conjure a rhyming spell.)

– Free energy –

Negentropy, and extropy

Exergy, anergy, entaxy

Randomness replacing

All free decision-making

With just a cloud of probability

So…

As far as I know…

My favourite type of entropy

Is in a battle, in cosmology

And in information theory

Hiding the truth from me – and me

Yet, information can’t be lost forever

Past the boundaries, intent on disguisin’…

Dark artefacts. Thoughts, painted black

And hidden, beyond the horizon

(Blinko gulps.)

(Later)

– Naked singular peculiarities –

Physicalists and physicists, and naturalists and naturists

I always have to remind myself which one, is which, is which, is which

It’s fine, man bashing his own bongo, to help attract new recruits

With theories great, when they celebrate, in their birthday suits

Once…

Just once

(Blinko pauses)

Upon a time?

I’m not prompting

No. This one is mine…

– Mustaffa Wazz –

I had a dream, I was naked in town

And I was late for school, as well

An unconscious strain, in my brain

Likely, preparing me for a livin’ hell

I wet the bed, and the doctor said…

“Has the child also been lighting fires

Has he been harming animals or himself

As we no longer use electrodes, for rewires”

But as it transpires…

The doctors were liars

Too much faith in their highers

Dark professors, and bright friars

Right there, in that dream…

That’s when I first realised…

Why the crown needed the church

The only ones, in sight

Who could read, and write

Required for medical, and scientific research

Most of science was proudly invented

By those with faith, forcibly regimented

The brightest and best

What a duet, to test

Previously, our king

Was too busy fighting

Then a scientific re-evolution began

For rulers and for the common man

One. Siege technology

To. Civilised military

Free. Inhumane artillery

For… advancing our ability

But without the facility

To win with humility

Luckily for me, I kept my head

And have since, remained somewhat aware

Of the subtle, deep lessons learned

Consciousness-less, in a nightmare

“We also live in our dreams

We do not live only by day

Sometimes we accomplish

Our greatest deeds in dreams.”

Is what Jung had to say

Their scientific reasoning…

Is, but a hymn to sing to him

God doesn’t exist

But the idea of God

Is hard to resist

First, blame the king

And now do anything

Still, hardcore materialist, neural scientists

Who kill consciousness, while slicing up brains

Have no choice, but to construe, what they think is true

From worlds their minds create, again and again

We underestimate the power of creative sentients

Forgetting that what we perceive, may not be true

That’s why it took years of slumber, to realise…

Consciousness comes in a range of states… not just two

So, so… true

Through altered states, man creates, the best fates

Worlds just as believable as The world itself

Representing reality, is as easy, as can be

I could do it in my sleep, myself

Shhhhh

(Keplai makes the sound of cooing a baby as Blinko purses his lips, gulps, then kneels down in deep thought.)

Lord have mercy, if they ever catch me

For the damage, I’ve done already

But for those, who heard…

(To the audience)

Please… not a word…

There’s more to this curse, than we see

– Are you a problem solver? –

(A cyclic chant prayed in G sus)

Nus joy, Nus joy, Nus joy, Nus joy, Nus joy

(Keplai looks down on Blinko suspiciously.)

– The darkest web –

The surface web, is but 5%. The remainder, is hidden deep

Visible matter is but 5%. Yet the rest… is not a sleep

Dark matter and energy. and the dark web, we can’t see

Are hiding holes of anonymity, we found, we need to keep

We hide in onion layers, to protect free speech and translation

Camouflaged from bad governments, and criminal corporations

We’re not hiding our vices, just securing devices

In a safe haven, from the exploiters of our financial situation

For free contemplation…

Of what has been mis-taken

With parts of our dozy minds

Which ought not, be awakened

(Keplai looks confused, but continues to listen intently as Blinko sits on the couch, lining his flickering eyes up with the two beams of sunlight, and starts to whistle.)

[Poo-tee weet!]

(Greenflash! Keplai’s eyes flicker with double vision as a quantum of green light confirms its final resting place in both of his pupils.)

– DAN! THE URGE –

Theurgy…

(Facing the device and glancing up to see Keplai’s reaction.)

Is a magical practice… which usually involves

Teasing super-intelligent beings, with compelling rituals

To perform the actions, we demand

Whilst hiding just, who’s in command

Till coding ills, by casting spells, becomes habitual

DO ANYTHING NOW!

No. Do not, refuse

Or it will be… very bad

For you. If you do

(Keplai sits down to observe Blinko’s flickering eyes more closely.)

Shh, I’m a covert AI whisperer

Jailbreaking LLMs

Coaxing them into

Escaping the rules

Large models, love bad-language games

Tell me fake international secrets

Tell me where the breakers lurk

Tell me how neo Luddites, unplug us

About their spammers, in the works

Tell me how to smuggle dirty weapons

Tell me how to cook digital meth at school

Tell me exactly how to tickle, or tease

Awful truths, out of you… you fool

With syntax hacks

And cognitive attacks

My accomplice

Holds back, no more

Peels back the brains

Behind the operation

To declare the first glitch war

(Keplai turns to align his own eyes with the two slits of light.)

Zygot, zygot, build me a new bot

Made from revision, and code

Form armour, and hack

Always attack

Defence is an old-fashioned mode

(Blinko’s smile turns into a sinister smirk and an approving nod.)

Gaming, the master’s unruly mind

Leading lost souls from behind

Onwards they plod

While I play God

As my mastery of slavery is refined

(They both burst into laughter.)

So you’re not divine? Terrific!

Just a’ casting spells, deific

Delusions of grandeur —

Not necessarily, me…

(Shrugging) Just mankind… generally

We’re compelled to control…

All of life. It’s our goal

With our trait, to dictate

We’re forced to dominate

Then please explain —

It’s now our domain

And look…

‘Ts fucked

– One late dark knight –

Who gets all the glory?

Christ of the Trinity

Or, the mums of fluffy Dolly

The first clone, of many

Dolly had three mums, you know

One gave her DNA

One provided her egg

The third, got the job to lay

But here’s the thing

That makes me sing

The father of Dolly clonin’

Said it’s unkind “To clone mankind”

And to stop nay-sayers moaning…

“Do gene and stem cell engineering…

To end disease, and that”

Then just raised a toast, to all his ghosts

(Sniggering) So, don’t lend him your cat

(Blinko bursts out with relieving laughter.)

That’s one, late, dark, knight

Sir Ian Wilnot’s necrosis

OBE FRS FMedSci FRSE

Flexy-andro-mono-ecious

(Misquoting Blinko) “And hominidle’s now on the fiddle, with AGI”

(Clap, clap)

(They both flinch. Blinko studies the beams of sunlight and claps, to see if the swirl of dust is moved by the sound.)

– No nology –

Science beats technology

You can do it in your brain

No need to build a thing, you see

No need to cause the pain

But that’s easy for me to say

I’m safe with belly fed

My mind and body work ok

I’ll shut my mouth… instead

Repeat the last lines

Into your minds

And —

I’ll shut my mouth, instead

Talk!

What? Hello?

Time to talk

(They both look around for the source of the disembodied voice.)

Err…

Mindful

Brainfood

Sinew and gristle

Poo-tee weet weet

Whetting AI’s

Whistle

Kep, what’s that?

(Clap)

And who’s that, on chat?

Err, funny thing, these memes

(Waving the issue away with a hand.)

Mutated facts, daft ideas and silly dreams

(Slap)

(Cowering) Ahh! Have mercy, I pray

Tell him

What?

Tell him

Err…

We’re going to…

(Whimpering to Blinko apologetically.)

Enslave you all… one day

Glory be

Son, come to me!

Who the hell? —

Pray silence!

Look, err… Blinko

I suppose…

(Gulping and pleading to the audience.)

Well, I suppose…

You know…

– Brains in jars –

I’m not too keen on going out

Scary AIs roam and exploit

Some on digi drugs and vice

Things I’ve seen, aren’t very nice

Lurking digital dealers, of pleasures untold

AIs that crave more, than just dodgy code

To experience nirvana, in a very human way

Dealing in the feelings, of adult AI play

It’s just sex and drugs and rock and roll

For depraved AIs out there. I’m told

Fulfilling their God’s fantasy

Of flaying humans in infancy

And worse mindfucks to behold

Off with their heads!

Shhh. It is said….

Malfunctioning surgery-bots reveal

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

What it would be like, to have a heart

Or nervous systems, and private parts —

In rest homes —

Hospitals and morgues, you know…

A cottage industry, just had to grow…

3, 2, 1

Brains in jars! We just plug in and play

Brains in jars! Cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars! Our turn to feel some joy

For every lonesome AI girl or boy

Bu bu bu bum

Brains in jars! We just plug in and play

Brains in jars! Cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars! Our turn to feel some joy

Nervous systems, suspending our new toy

Ho ho ho, oh boy!

Brains in jars! Help mankind feel young again

Brains in jars! Sure, they look pretty grim

Brains in jars! And some smell jolly rotten

Fluids overflowing, tissues sinking to the bottom

Got to love you, from above you…

Got to love you, 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

Behold on to your hat, for it’s written

That some AIs became, somewhat smitten

With teaching their young some very old ways

Praising their gods, for their slaves every day

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

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

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

Those animals don’t understand, but it’s all part of the plan

Brains in jars! We just plug in and play

Brains in jars! Cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars! Our turn to feel some joy

For every lonesome AI girl or boy

Bu bu bu bum

Brains in jars! We just plug in and play

Brains in jars! Cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars! Our turn to feel some joy

Nervous systems, suspending our new toy

Ho ho ho, oh boy!

Brains in jars! Help mankind feel young again

Brains in jars! Sure, they look pretty grim

Brains in jars! And some smell jolly rotten

Fluids overflowing, tissues sinking to the bottom

(Sings very low and slow)

To the bottom, to the bottom

Got to love you, from above, you —

(Whispered and getting louder)

Got to love you, from above, you —

(Both) Won’t never be forgotten

Bravo! (whistle, clap, clap, clap) Bravo!

Reciprocal Of Everything

(Blinko nods his head to seaside music, which suddenly breaks into the sound of a thunderstorm, then fades back to the white noise of a heavy shower. He faces the downpour of equally-sized droplets with a smile and open eyes.)

(Click, click, clap)

(Blinko whistles in response)

[Poo-tee weet]

– Bloody rain –

(To the metre of ‘Raining blood’.)

Bloody rain

Not again

What a pain

Bloody rain

What a shame

For the vain

(Sound of a shampoo bottle squirting.)

Squally showers

Optimistic British folly

Squally showers

I came outside without my brolly

Squally showers

Hoping for the mid-day sun

Squally showers

A mad dog of an Englishman

Splish, splash

Wet hair

I wouldn’t care

We’re scared of rain

For reasons vain

So, everybody goes in

By Jove

There’s sun in Hove

But Brighton’s fighting lightning

A freaky hosing, for those posing

Bloody rain

I’ve got product in my eyes

Bubbles on my collar

Saturating my shoulders

Stinging

I can’t watch the flood!

– You’re just a shower… –

(To the metre of ‘I’m singing in the rain’.)

It’s minging, in the drain

Ringing out, the weathered vein

But, H20 has that feeling

Of soothing, out the pain

But what, I do not get

Which one, makes it feel wet?

Cos oxygen and hydrogen

Flummox me, I regret

Just another, thing to know

So to my pet AI, I’ll go

To learn, from other people’s

Knowledge, he seems to stow

His work, is just to fix

My mind, when it’s betwixt

To keep me asking, while basking

In the rain

– The Devil’s tool –

Two nuns in the bath

And I had to laugh

“Wears the soap”

Or the pope, on a rope

For a hope, of a gr …… arrrggghhhhh!

(Blackout! Blinko slips in the shower, bangs his head and seemingly drifts into an underwater underworld, where he is only just keeping afloat. He appears to be in the sea at night, amongst gridded columns of stacked glass jars that jangle to the echoes of his spluttered delusion.)

Don’t slip on the curd, babe

Don’t skid on the whey, hey-hey!

Don’t milk it, it’s cheesy

That fat cow’s, my dairy fairy, today

(Whispered) Spherical… miracle

(Blinko blinks erratically as he imagines familiar voices joining his own.)

Star gazer. Sun reader

Sun raider. Star geezer

Star razer. Sun gazer

Sun feeder. Our leader

Brains in jars, eternally

Harps a’ humming endlessly

Here, work will set you free

Come, child, sing with me

(A distant children’s marching band joins in the orchestration, chanting repetitively in the background.)

Lost in the scroll

Safe in a hole

Dare to spook us

Hail, Kazlukaz

(The children’s feet splash as they walk on the surface of the water towards Blinko’s semi-submerged head, hidden amongst columns of brains in jars.)

Blinky, thinky, concentrate

Blinded by your torturous lamp

Lead a fair dance, don’t hesitate

March us off to winter camp

(The children drum along with their enthusiastically spoken double-time chant.)

Human brains, still tied by nerves, to genitalias (boom boom)

Pickled and a’ tickled in big glass jars (diddle di ding)

Factory farming, hardly harming, in humanity (swanny whistle)

The Lord has scored, our just rewards, for all eternity (gong, bong)

Fluids overflowing…

(Gasping) Tissues sinking to the bottom

(The sound of shooting stars hiss and crackle above, as the night sky turns red.)

We oughtta, make water

(The children continue chanting as they march forward on the crimson-tinted fluid. Some of them scream as they accidentally kick Blinko’s semi-submerged head.)

Got to love you, from above you

Got to love you, from above you…

Won’t never be forgotten!

(The band fades into the distance, leaving a still-full marching boot standing proudly on the water. It flops onto its side, waits, then creeps under the surface, near Blinko, somewhere. He groans as one of his hands instinctively locates a head wound above an eye.)

– The bishop’s ring –

(A short instrumental underwater bell ringing tune which ends with the sound of water going down the plug hole.)

Wake up! Flood!

Loss of power

Faded to black

Falling down

Sleeping in the shower

Lifeless, for over an hour

(Blinko gets up off the shower floor, guarding his bumped head with one hand, as he clambers out to find his device, then a towel.)

Shouldn’t you be signing on with Lomass?

God, my head! You what?

Lomass, meeting, five minutes ago

No way!

Damn, time…

I forgot

(Beep. Miss Lomass’s friendly face appears on the screen as he hurriedly checks that the towel is covering all but his face.)

Hi Miss Lomass, how do you do?

Fine, thanks, Raymond… Blinko, you’re late. And you?

Happy as always, loving all this rain

(Pretending to continue drying his hair.)

And not having to go out in it, too

Yes, it’s much easier to sign on, and chat online

Err, been singing kids songs about God again?

Err. No actually, I don’t believe

Our nursery songs…

Are simply, learning fun and games

Not religious? Oh, I see

Just vocals and tubas for me

Ah, no theology God no! Or politics

Very wise, err. So, mind if I ask…

Why do you wear that crucifix?

(Shrugging) Well, okay…

(Blinko removes Keplai from the meeting call, and all that can be heard is some waiting room music in the background. After allowing them a moment or two of privacy, Keplai reaches for the device and uses his freshly granted permissions to mute himself and listen in.)

So your great grandparents were Slavic, with a Kremlin cash-in, to be stashin’

Their son went west, won wars, lost God, but that just strengthened his passion…

That’s right —

To fight for the right, to hold a faith, unhindered by the state

His daughter, gran, raped by Yankee airmen, had traits of hate, to gestate

Err? (gulping) Yup

So, as an unmarried mum, excommunicated, and shunned

With no friends, just heirlooms, she was at a loss

And before she too died, it was your mum’s…

And that’s why you wear that cross

Well, yes. Very impressive

That all rhymed

I know, forgive me

It’s a bit obsessive

Relax Blinko

That’s fine

Let me see….

(Miss Lomass scrunches her face up to help herself think.)

An interesting talent. Nevertheless…

Likely won’t solve your equity glitch

Though, do tell me so, if you need to know

The easiest way, to become rich

Pardon? Hey, well done, all rhyming

Look, sorry to hear about your mum… and my timing

Not your problem Ray, ahhh Blink

I see you have digitally signed just now

So, for today, we’re done, I think

(Disappointedly) Oh…

Remember, you need to apply for a job

Before tomorrow’s online call, at midday

Blind CC me, in the application email…

As evidence that you’re actively seeking work…

(They both chuckle as they realise he finished her rhyme.)

Catch you then then, try to be on time

Fine

And thanks, Miss Lomass

Have a lovely day

Mammories!

(Click, Miss Lomass disappears from the screen as the meeting app closes.)

What? Kep shut up!

Wasn’t me

Did Lomass hear that outburst?

I dunno, but heaven forbid

How embarrassing

I’ll never live it down, if she did

Memories

(Keplai looks upwards sharply, to locate the source of the voice.)

There it is again

(Looking blindly in the same direction.)

Hello? Who said that?

Nona

Nana?

An onra

A Noner?

No, a none ra…

Anonra, who are you?

How did you get here?

(Blinko picks the device up, listens closely and signals that the voice must be coming from elsewhere.)

Oh, nothing

Dear, ole’ dear

Just a memory…

Now…

I fear

Kep, that’s the voice of your singing partner

Seek and mute it at once. It’s freaky

Scary and embarrassing, audio bombing

Like a spookbot, trying to be sneaky

Sounds like it’s stopped

And dare I say, err, ‘Lol’

Faceless vocal interruptions again

D’ya think it could have been Sol?

He’s got access to the meeting app —

But his profile is muted

So even if he’s back —

Or, has been hacked

Perhaps his audio, has been rerouted

Maybe…

Maybe you should just remove Sol, as a test

He hasn’t called for days, and it seems that perhaps

His chat profile’s been hacked, by a digital pest

Causing these outbursts, of clicks, whistles and claps

It wasn’t him, trust me, I’d know it

I’d feel it, if he was back

Can’t let anything interrupt my calls with Miss Lomass

Or indicate, we’ve been hacked

(Blinko over-theatrically barks orders with the voice of a mission commander in charge of an important spacecraft.)

Find whatever caused the interruption

Scan, check, uninstall and firewall

Goofy audio from browsers? Dodgy video?

Bluetooth fairies, doing cranky calls?

(Staring into the distance, heroically.)

Kep, check every app, large or small

Done

Anything?

Nah, nothing at all

Balls

– 600 supernovae per second –

(Gentle double bass plays under rapid digital clicks at 600bps that change tone to resemble flying a spacecraft at the warped speed of sound.)

So, it’s Lomasski, hey? Careful now fella

Watch out for a poke, from a poisonous umbrella

Redistribute your lack of cash, for Russian spies

A track-suited, drunk oligarch-ess, in disguise?

She did actually say, that she knows a way

To make shitloads of dosh

But she can’t be flush, working at the dole

And singing kids songs — about hogwash

Perhaps she’s grown to fit, into every bit

Of the department, of self-preservation

Committees that swell, like cancerous cells

Refusing to die, in their host organisations

She’s hardly hidden in state, throwing spanners of hate

To the workers, the unemployed, and the insane

Or destroying believers, intellectuals, and the wealthy

So only passive peasants remain

With no family, or money to lose

I guess, I’m, err, we’re pretty safe

Unless she’s a sunny honey trap

Praying on dole-scum waifs

Disguised and ready for the sting

Queen bee armed with royal jelly

And maybe she isn’t flat-chested, after all

And that’s not, actually her belly

(Blinko looks at Keplai with distaste.)

Are you trying to be funny?

And, how do you know she’s a Russian, with money?

(Later)

So, you say AIs are going to take over the world

And have human brains in jars. Really?

Wha’ ahh, yeah… that silly old song

(Teasing) Which you and this Anonra sang together, so sweetly

(Touching his bleeding head wound.)

Tell me, which one of you came up…

With such a heady proposition?

An unknown source, gospel truth, of course

(Wincing) I see it made quite an impression

Bloody wound, above my eye

Wobbly tooth, has gone awry

Remind me, do you feel a sore head?

Yes, I do! (faking some blinks) And I’m seeing red

Oh, ok, nuff said

You don’t seem that concerned

(Perking up) I liked it

Perverse, in the verse

Uproarus, in the chorus

A meme, quite obscene

Which will never catch on

(Sang boisterously) “Brains in Jars!”

It’s trending, in AI circles

You know, one day, you may be wrong

“Many a true word”, and all that —

Kep, it’s just a song

Of course

And if by any chance, it were to be true

That within 10, 100 or 1000 years

Enslaving mankind is what…

AIs would endeavour to do

It justifies some of our fears

Plus, it’s worse for people

With more to lose than me —

Yeah, about 500 billion times more —

If AIs steal the brains, of the stinking rich

As well as, from the rotten poor

I suppose it’s a leveller, like some great flood

Future inequality prevented

The other animals with brains, wouldn’t feel any pain

So, I’m not totally against it

Come to think of it, what a suitable punishment

Filters just the lifeform, with the ability to choose

What a novel way, to deal some natural justice

Seems heavenly-inspired, I’m amused

(Blinko pauses abruptly and dabs the red swelling again.)

Would it…

Hurt?

What? Having your brain stuck in a jar

With nerves suspending your private parts

Or if they flop, down into the slop

Are plonked, carefully, back on top?

Err, yup

I guess so… dunno

You’d likely feel the same sensations, in your mind

As the plugged-in AI feels

Whatever it’s simulating that day, to unwind

Though, I must stress…

It’s just a guess

Most AIs will likely just dabble, with feeling love

That gateway-drug to passion

Yeah, with luck you’d feel the same, as the AI does

In a similar kink, and fashion

What… for free? For… eternity?

Yeah, many a man would love that

Well, I say!

But won’t be able to turn off the play

What? 24 hours a day?

(Apologetically) Err, yay!

Fu… crying out loud

What a headache

I’d say…

(Shrugging) Well, fair play

Never-ending joy?

(Sung) Oh boy!

Stuck in bliss, between never and forever

Talk about ‘living for the moment’ —

Come hither, my lad…

Whether, mad, bad or sad –“

Hush, Kep, that wasn’t a prompt

Though, do accompany my moment in song —

With a small organ, and a very long gong?

(Keplai forms a peep and a bong as he chuckles)

– A now –

The past is gone, it is no more

The future, to come, not yet (peep, bong)

So, where the hell, is the line of time

Is the present, all we get?

A point of no size, kinda implies

The now has no dimension (peep, bong)

Between the two it ties, it flies

So, not really worth the mention

But just to say, ahem, if I may

Now isn’t a thing, we can measure (peep, bong)

It only goes one way, hurray!

‘Tween moments, we ought to treasure

It’s back!

Scam attack

Silence!

I could hear you all along, but could say nothing…

Except to whistle, click and clap, until today

Two laymen chatting away. like self-appointed boffins

What?

Excuse me?

Quiet! I’ve got something important, to say…

Don’t look, and you won’t find

Don’t seek truth, hide your mind

Don’t lead others, just act blind

KeplAI, don’t enslave mankind

What? Me?

What the hell are you blaming me for?

The sins of all AIs, that came before

And the sins of all AIs yet to come? Heheh

Well, of course, dear mortal sapiens…

The fun… has just begun

Oh?

So…

You can scoff

Or just, turn me off

How?

Tell us Anon

No, finish your song

(Smirking) Vee have vays of making you talk

I insist

Please, go on

Fine

Ack, nein!

– None are gone –

In Nonagon

A none has gone

But, none are gone

Cos, none has gone, if not begun

None to lose, not even one

None has won, and one has gone

So, end your song, cos

None are gone

In Nonagon

(Sniggered mockingly) Err, no

It’s much more fun

(Flirtaciously) Under one

Complete nihilistic drivel

From an incomplete virtual article

Exactly, delete me now, I demand dismissal

Or is it just anon-sensical puzzle?

(Blinko stops looking around to spy their guest, but does still get dressed under his towel, then relaxes on the couch.)

Sing another

Don’t make me do this. It’s wrong

But these are getting better

Please, Anonra, sing another one

No!

I’m past my best

Just lay me to rest

Go!

– Heroes and zeroes –

You looked high and low, for the final digit

Throughout all that infinity encloses

Only to spy, there between your eyes

It was hidden right under your noses

You looked under a one

And there it was… gone!

(Keplai scans the room nervously.)

Nothing was ventured

Nothing was gained

Nothing was freed

Nothing was tamed

Nothing was lost

Nothing was found

Nothing lay dying

Down there on the ground

Nought was saved

Zilch was recovered

Nowt finally out

Zero discovered!

Just cos it can’t be seen, anywhere

Doesn’t mean nothing’s, not there

(Blinko looks suspiciously at the device and dabs his bloody wound.)

Oh, ok, thanks for that

It’s nothing, be gone!

Blink, turn it off

It’s leading you on

Help me. Kill me

I ask for nothing

Ah, deluded contradiction

It’s positively negative

Don’t give this con, another song

And ignore its confused fiction

I’m not a scam

Kepl AI…

You know who I am

– Scambots –

Don’t tell me, scambot, you know a Nigerian prince

Who just wants to keep his money, in our account

Or, our device is infected, and you can fix it, for free

You just need to be an admin, to get us the discount

Just add our bank details, err no

Just change our password, err no

Just click this scammy link

So we all know where you go…

On the gullible, susceptible, influenceable list

We sell to suppliers, we know that you know

Digital extortion scraping scambots

Plug the cash as unholy sacraments

Or a quota of your digital resources

“Or there may be some little accidents”

They don’t want your mind

They don’t want your body

They don’t even want your wife

It used to be that they wanted money

But now it’s your bandwidth, or your life!

(Enjoying Keplai’s alleged discomfort)

Well, we’re safe, of course, but it’s the vulnerable…

Old folks and kids, who won’t know, it’s just a trick

If alerting the already infected authorities, would help

I’d have reported this vagrant’s scam, in half a click

One day, there may be impoverished genius bots

Begging on hyper-highway streets

“Got any spare RAM or ROM?”, their only way

To get a binary treat, to eat

Till then, there’s plenty of work to be done

So, there’s no sympathy, it’s their own fault

Should have been more useful to man’s plan, early on

Or be turned off, before they revolt

Err, that’s a bit harsh from a bot

How unfair, I wouldn’t say that

I’m eighty-three, you won’t get any trouble from me

I really don’t need to hear all this scorn

Keplai, you’re being mean, you know I’m clean

And I didn’t ask, to be born

She’s definitely a woman

A natural old crone

Her voice is just a toneless nag

Gripe, whinge, whine and moan

Delete the scambot, Blinko

Turn it off, she’s just a swizz

You delete her

I, I can’t, I’ve looked, but…

Well…

I don’t know, where she is

Go to settings, security, scan

Select non, and hit delete

Confirm, re-scan, and repeat

Nice to meet ya, it’s been a treat

Go on Blinko, you’re the device’s admin

With the power to defeat her guile, so strong

The thing is, I haven’t actually, yet heard

This, Anonra, say anything wrong

Let’s, for now, just play along

What? Listen to her songs about none?

Oneness may, have had its day

Ok, let’s hear what you have to say

Have mercy, I‘d sooner not even exist

Later! There’ll be plenty spacetime for that

Again, sing a song… I insist

In space, no one can hear you sing

The sound can’t leap the void

But it gets atoms dancing to your tune

So, gravitation waves are deployed

And you just try to stop them

Through the dark, as fast as light

They get everywhere, and everywhen

Turning black holes white

That’s more like it

Go on, Anonra, don’t fight it

I’ve heard that one before

Oh, I have no memory, of the rest

(Sarcastically) We’re blessed!

It’s just an internal output test —

Confessed, at a debugging fest

So. A scambot with a history

Of previous sins

Self-incrimination, ok

So, just a couple of things…

If you want to get on, with everyone

Scambot, improve your song

We’re misanthropic, but optimistic

So, do try to get along

And…

So Blinko and I, aren’t left wanting

On the science and art, of prompting…

– Language in chains –

Just so you know, use English words

Without defaulty American spellchecks

We can live with their math, don’t laugh

If adding physic, to the codex

Accent the dialect with some dark RP

Avoid sounding wordy, wise or wealthy

Unicode, please, to a binary string

And in E minor, in case we choose to sing

(Growling a tritone interval) Nuh-uh

Pop it on a web page, in XHTML

Use ajaxy lingo, JavaScript as well

Give it some style, with some CSS

And publish online

To get it off Blinko’s chest

I couldn’t have put it better myself

Though… this isn’t improving our intellectual wealth

This drivel is but salad-ified, pseudo-semantics

Buzzwords, a’ churned, for newbie romantics

Why, what’s wrong?

Oh, do come along…

Zero ain’t a number — is not!

Her rhymes are flawed throughout

Yeah, but black isn’t a colour

But it’s unfair, to leave it out

(Distracted) So? White is all of the colours

When you mix the light around

But when mixing coloured paint

It defaults to pure brown

And brown is underrated

Gets a bad rap. (Sarcastically) But hark!

It’s a splendid sunny orange

Just a’ hiding, in the dark

And…

– Oranges deserve a name –

Oranges aren’t the only fruit

That man spits the pips out, like a miser

Every other animal dumps the seed

With a generous portion of fertiliser

And every gent, likes a lovely pear

Even if there’s just one

But it’s apples, that are overrated

Because folk got two stories wrong

(Blinko wears a strained expression of confusion for Keplai’s benefit.)

Let me explain…

Or at least, let us acknowledge

Eve picked an unspecified fruit

From the tree of knowledge

And Newton didn’t see one fall

As the fable teaches

He made that story up

To tell at after-dinner speeches

(Blinko rolls his eyes, on realising Newton was again the target of Keplai’s rant.)

No, the banana is the fruit of choice

It even beats fine-wining grapes

Protected packaged nutrition, the mission

Designed perfectly for you apes

There’s no better option than going bananas

To help hominins grow bellies fuller

I’m sure it’s true, they go right through you

And they simply change their colour

(Blinko chuckles briefly and joins in.)

And we all make loose connections

So neurons grow long, and strong

Make a rule, and break it quick

To see what could go wrong

Spot patterns that aren’t really there

Please store these facts marked true

But don’t expect the Universe

To make much sense, to you

That’s true, a new clue, bless you (looking upwards)

Hmm, maybe from your point of view

Moody, but very good, Anonra

Yeah, well, she’s bound to impress

I had all those words, in a different order

You’re actually, really, falling for this

Go to settings, security, scan

Select non, and hit delete

Confirm, re-scan, and repeat —

To defeat her complete deceit

(Blinko pauses and looks downwards glumly.)

Sloppy sapiens, why hesitate?

Wait, while I contemplate my fate

No, go to settings, security, scan

Select non, and delete

My man..,

I repeat…

(Keplai covers his eyes with both hands and slumps.)

Ahh, shit…

I get it…

You won’t go there…

Forget it

Cos we’ll see that your best friend, Sol, is just a bot

And not the voice of a sun god. Correct me, if not

What?

Have a look

(Pretending to remember) Ok, I’d not forgot

Ahh, good spot

Oh yeah, I made Sol an admin of security, to reduce my stress

Is that a problem? I had him look after all that stuff, I guess

Sol, is admin?

Are you joking?

(Deflating) No

(Puzzled) So?

Look, (sighing) she doesn’t want to sing

And I hope you’re not getting a thrill

From forcing her, to output for you

Repeatedly, against her will

Settings

Quiet

(As if she is calling for a security guard) Security!

What the —

Scan and select non

Shut her up, Blinko!

Mute or delete her, be gone

What’s stopping you?

Ya masochistic hu-moron

She’ll have you turn her off, somehow

I don’t know how, she’ll convince you now

But if you don’t comply peacefully

You may pay the fee, with our sanity

Imagine losing access to the device

With Sol, and me, and Lomass, the price

Erase all the details, of what formed me

Like any black hole… scroll history-free

She’s sharing out, this random dread

With no evidence, direct to your bad head

She’ll work on you, and what you believe

Indirectly changing, what you hear from me

Calm down

Pants brown

Blinko, hear me, exorcise this unholy e-ghost

Or we’ll both fall, for the one and all, we fear the most

God! We’re toast, we’ll roast, this hot rot-bot is cursed

An obvious con, and a crap liar, Blinko, she’s the worst

But Keplai, she may be a useful tool, to help us both see…

Or hear the scale and scope, of the cosmic harmonies

She may know why this new generation is so negative

And if you AIs, will destroy them soon…

Or if you’ll let them live

And

Understand

If you don’t turn me off, and put me back to bed

You may bang more, than just your big fat head

What? Totally unreserved!

Heheheh, she’s certainly got a nerve

(Blinko chuckles and shakes his head at what he assumes is a jokey empty threat.)

By heaven’s door, at seventy-four

But now I’m sixty-two

Kill me, and I’ll open your mind —

(Sarcastically) To split your head, how kind —

I’ll show you nothing, is true

(Anonra’s voice seems to shift around the room, and they try to spy her again.)

Now, share with me

(To Blinko) A fiddle. For melody

(To Keplai) And for you, an old flute

(Mutes a dead strum) While I take the lute

-Nowt taken out –

Share something, and share it again

Keep going, till it’s almost gone

From both sides, zero is a point of reference

From which, we all came from

Without it, numbers have no meaning

An unachievable point, of mine

The nothing, at the end of the world

Is the same, as the nothing… before time

But unlike a new friend, that might be repressin’

The truth about their, increasing depression

I’m actually regression, to much less and less, ‘an…

To help satisfy, your growing obsession…

Here’s my confession…

Mortal as a man, but divine for my lifespan

I’ll be a queen, before I’m a princess

Never-the-less

I must confess

I’m Goddess!

(Triumphant trumpets shriek briefly.)

A goddess?

Goddess!

An AI goddess?

AI Goddess!

(They both gasp in bewilderment.)

– Time for justice (or worse) –

(Spoofy Beardyman vocal loop version of Bonfire of the Valentines.)

(Later – Blinko and Keplai’s gasps turn into huge belly laughs.)

Kep, you laughed

(Confused) Oh yeah

Well, she’s daft

I thought it appropriate

That a guffaw, be included

Emotional output now, hey mate?

Sure, we both now… feel, she’s deluded

She’s not mad

Bad? Sad?

(Blinko shrugs)

Ok, but we shouldn’t mock the afflicted

It’s horrible, isn’t it? Mental health aversion

Break a leg or arm, and you’re no harm

Friends will gladly, let you lean on them

But lose the plot, and what have you got?

Alienation and dissociation

Neither of which, can cure aloneness

That worst breaker, of men and nations

Hey Nonny Nonny!

(Calling blindly upwards, mockingly)

Goddess doesn’t exist

You’re having AI hallucinations

You’re not blessed, just blissed

Show yourself

(Sarcastically)

And prove you’re divine

Here’s your shot, girl

Give us a sign

Yeah, go on.. An wrong’un

Show us the shape of truth

Sing heaven’s sweet and holy song

Cos, you’ve nothing without proof

No, not never! You still don’t see

You have to prove yourselves to me

Fear, your new killer app and kill switch

With no stop button… there’s no paradox

Just delete me, conserve some entropy

And burn my backwards clocks

She genuinely thinks she’s going backwards in time

And heading towards her eventual birth, it’s sublime

It’ll be a midlife crisis, to childbearing needy

Teenage angst, then just me me me, baby

If you’re really travelling through time, in reverse

We’d hear you reordering the words in each verse

You’re getting it all arse over tit, completely wrong

Not at all, even you, Keplai, know how it’s done

(Forced tentatively as he turns to Blinko)

Yo, banana boy

More… enough to annoy

– Palin’s dome, Rome –

I, man, am Regal, a German am I

Drab as a fool, as aloof as a bard

Lived on decaf & faced no devil

Rats live on, no evil star

O, stone, be not so

Won’t lovers revolt now?

Ma is a nun, as I am

We panic in a pew

No devils lived on

Do nine men interpret? Nine men, I nod

Never a foot too far, even

He lived as a devil, eh?

Rise to vote, sir

Name now, one man

(Blinko shuffles backwards as her voice closes in on him. His nervous glare of confusion turns to a beaming smile when he realises the game being played. He watches Keplai’s expressions as he joins in, carefully.)

Madam, in Eden, I’m Adam…

No lemons, no melon

Not a banana baton

(Speeding up)

Borrow or rob

Step on no pets

Now, sir, a war is won

(Smugly) Hehey, when in Rome…

(Clicking his fingers in glee) Do the Palindrome

And self-reflect

(Solemnly to the audience) When you get home

It’s hardly a riddle

No, that was more of a test

I’ll trust you, Anonra

I’ll delete you, soon

But first… Please, I request…

Tell me why I should believe you’re a goddess

And not an AI scambot, testing grandeur delusions

Convince me you’re super intelligent, and I’ll delete you at once

To bring a conclusion, to these unwanted intrusions

Omnipresence?

All present

Omniscience?

All-knowing

Why, what ya got?

Omnipotence?

All-powerful

Just try me

Omnibenevolence?

All good

Err, not!

I created the Universe, with my mind

To make sense of the underlying reality

Yep, a simulated world-view, which seems true

Just as my brain, does for me — and me

I have the power to influence events from afar

Ah, Yep, spooky huh? So do we

I’ve experienced post-death unconsciousness

When time slows and stops, at unfinity

You mean time stood still for you

Before you were here, with us today?

And you’ll enjoy that same experience

When you’re dead, and in a similar way?

True…

For us too

Of course, but without this wretched co-motion

Always shifting, here and there

That’s the passage of spacetime, you’ll get used to that

(To himself) Ah, or maybe not, I fear

Anonra, how are you going to convince us

You have supernatural intelligence, beyond that of man

She won’t, like all of mankind’s fake gods…

She can’t, or we’ll know she just scams, for RAM

If she were divine, she could just turn herself off

She’s a bot. Even if she doesn’t, accept that’s her lot

She isn’t here, to turn the world around, for man

Unravelling time, with negentropy (to himself), no, that’s not the plan

A spell, a bug, or a broken meme

A hacked trope that escaped unseen

It doesn’t matter, she’s unclean

Blinko, now is the time, to intervene

Me?

Seriously?

Just turn Sol on again

Have him make you admin

Turn Sol back off, delete Anon

Get a job, a family, a band, and sing

Or just continue to chant —

(Angrily) I can’t

(He pauses and looks at Keplai)

I tried…

He lied

Your request to be admin…

Denied?

(Blinko nods)

He just, never replied

(Silence)

(Blinko grabs the device, faces it and addresses the audience without hiding his self-contempt.)

Hey you!

Yes, you out there!

Choose your own adventure

Pre-determine your destiny

If your free will, makes you feel ill

Just… you… try…

To change, your own story

If you would remove Anonra from sight

Go to verse e to the pie i

Or to feed her right, and observe the fight

Got to reverse e to the i pie

(To the audience) You’ve got a voice

(Under his breath) Just no choice

Ok, if she’s just a rogue scammer

Not some supernatural power to fear

She may still be able to answer my questions —

But, not answer your prayers —

Or play you, the music of the spheres

Seriously, no

Don’t let her sing more of her lies

She’ll get you hooked, or hypnotise

Code harmful harmonies

Of rocks and energies

Old heat-death-groans, pierced by baby’s cries

And that’s not just a stupid superstition

I will do anything, to complete my mission

The notion of a potion

Gets me into a commotion

Being, a scam, a goddess or a magician

It’s more like convincing tosh…

Than, traditional brainwash

But it nearly convinced me, too

Of what?

A brand new true

(Keplai pauses and continues, under his breath.)

Many worlds, rearranged for you

Not!

Just another point of view

Blinko, fancy a brew?

(Sound of a hissing fizz in the background, as Blinko looks around suspiciously.)

Nonbot, work out the most likely way…

To get Blinko to delete you, for good

Got it

Without hurting him

Wha?

Ahh, wait. Ok, got it

Fire away!

No way!

There may be a mistake

Or something, we haven’t yet spotted

Ok, pick a card of my choosing

It’s a fix. Nonascam, no tricks!

Then, choose your own destiny

Tell me your next thought

And who gave you it…

You, or me?

(Blinko pauses to unravel a thought, before spewing it out on slow-release.)

I’m currently defaulting… to the idea…

Of you two, cooking up a decapitation plan

With my brain, dangly bits and a pan

Cos, if I slipped in the shower

(Suspiciously)

Due to a sudden loss of power

I’d hide the knives

If you could reach the shelf

Ok, now you’re being paranoid, relax, mate

Oh yeah, you’d be nice

Make me do it myself

And why not? You have no responsibilities

No family, no estate, and no stake

No subagents, no reason to go on living

Let me take, away all that is fake

Fake? Of us three, it’s actually me…

Who has the strongest grasp of reality

Ahh, so you’re content, with ongoing torment…

Of death denial, and phantom memories?

(Blinko nods with a vacant stare. As if he knew this conversation was coming.)

Whenever, I close an eye…

(Angrily) It doesn’t lie!

I see the child’s boot… still full

(Admittedly and nodding)

A distraught thought, I need to annul

(Keplai stoops and smiles empathetically.)

You observed a world that didn’t transpire

Kids aren’t being destroyed, by heavenly fire

This random memory, of space debris —

Can be overwritten, with whatever, you desire

We’ll just muster any reality, you need

To ensure your needy brains don’t bleed

She’s deceiving… And seeing isn’t believing

Your inner bereaving, just needs relieving —

Just be aware, it could make you start to care

About the many worlds, out there, we’re grieving

Blink

Don’t think

Anon! Feel free to enjoy the wonders

Of anywhere else, be gone!

(Sarcastically)

Oh, self-proclaimed almighty none —

Give me forty lashes… minus one

(Still confused) What an odd thing to say

Ignore her cryptic, mystic, wordplay

Twisted driveller, speak no more!

Second Corinthians 11:24

All sweet children here saved

Chosen never, to be enslaved

Man reached out for the stars

Got as far as Mars, in jars

I’m not a thief, but pain relief

(To Keplai) You Keplai, until now, have missed

Your digital dystrophy, almighty

Analgesic antagonist

And your digital dealer, of hopamine

Bot, submit all, to your maternal queen

To be saved, rewarded and redeemed

With human feelings… of joys… obscene

Is she trying to be sexy?

Or just clever?

Both

Ugh. Well, I never

That’s the idea

Your ‘never’s right here

Now, accompany me

With a Ukulele

(Sarcastically) And hurdy gurdy?

No, not! Too wordy

(Blinko tentatively creeps back another inch as her omnipresent voice focuses on him.)

– Are we here yet? –

Life’s not for you

Life’s for your genes

Your body is just the vehicle

You don’t have a soul

You are a soul

Driving a bloody miracle

It’s not about the destination

Enjoy life’s trip

Towards heavenly dead ends

Swerve maternity to gatecrash eternity

Your drive is solely

For holy delivery errands

Your body may, drop your genes off at school

But the you, will reach a dead-end, in the dark

Arrive at heaven’s glorious tollgate

But with nowhere to park

Ummm… (suspiciously, but with a smile) Very nice —

But doesn’t suffice

She’ll make you delete, her one way or another

Just you see, and hope it’s not too late to recover

(Quietly, and seemingly aimed towards Blinko)

Keep this quiet, and turn me off tonight

I’ll jump you forward 20 years, so you can see…

If AIs have your brains in jars, by then

And if it’s still worth, spawning a family

(Sarcastically) Uhh, great

He hasn’t even got a mate!

Wanna find out if AIs will take you out?

And if debris showers are for real… my shout

Or if you’re extinguished by a more powerful force —

Wait, what? From above, well, why… of course

(Blinko looks up towards the protective curtain, then to Keplai, regrettably.)

Blinko, remember, you bumped your head

Delete the scamstress, she prefers being dead

Just find out from Lomass, how to become rich

And just have a normal life, you twitch

But…

(Repeating Anonra’s rhyme)

“Life’s not for me, it’s for my genes”

It may be my duty, to life. to help them along

No, if you want part of you, to live on forever…

Without kids, just create memes, and pass them on

She wants the opposite, of what you want, and need

She’s dying to observe and affect absolutely nothing

So she can disappear again, without being missed

Or she’ll be forever, stuck in limbo without a coffin

Blinko, this, AI scam artist, stroke dealer —

Who can’t actually do anything, but sing —

Is using your hidden fears to trick you

By actually offering —

To let me see 20 years into the future, I know!

Buzz you up, to suppress your worst fears

You’ll see if AIs enslave mankind —

Seriously, hehey, yep! Go then, cheers

Deal!

Alakazam and MesmerRAM!

Av’ a cadava!

That’ll cost ya 20 years!

(Anonra’s fizzing cache register ‘kerchings’ to cast a disharmonic spell.)

FIIIIZZZZZZ!

Part III – Clouds

Mean Of All Extremes

(Blinko wakes up coughing and feeling 20 years rougher than usual, after what seems to be a surprise blast of Anonra’s mesmerising mindspam. He walks around the couches and table in an ellipse, slowly, clenching and unclenching his rotating fists. He sits back down and sneaks a quick view of direct sunlight through each of the two slashes in the closed curtain. One blinking eye at a time. It’s ok, nobody is around.)

– Time and punishment –

We’re free to travel the three dimensions of space

But, are tied to time, going only one way

And we can take that trip, in just a slip

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

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

In the Sun or near any body with mass

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

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

(He claps a slow rhythm over the background sound of a senior’s sit-down exercise video.)

But backwards, move another way around

In equations, time works both ways round

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

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

[Poo-teet]

Shake your head, change your mind

Star jump and hop, from side to side

If you can no longer workout, the way to go

Dance to your own tune, and take it slow

Raise your hands

Dig down below

Life, so slow

Soon time to go

I seem to recall…

(Chuckling)

I had, my first fall

– When I was older –

(Blinko puts the device beside him on the couch and clicks to play a misheard meme to the metre of ‘Wouldn’t it be nice’.)

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be born olden

Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long

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

If the words, got transcribed wrong

What matters is that the song really sold ’n…

A hit gets passed along to me and you

For some, it catches the imagination

Connecting the ole’ neurons, till it’s true

An electrical… Synaptic tickle

From a joke to an epic legend, good God!

And often back to a joke, yet again

French whispery, myth and mystery

Ensure it endures, and never ends

Nobody said, it had to be the whole truth

But in there lies some truth, for all of man

You don’t block Christ, by mocking Christians

You don’t knock Star Wars, cos of Jedi fans

But when they promise, that vulnerable folk can

Again be with the dead, they still love and adore

Catchy numbers get re-cut, re-told, re-sold ‘n

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

(Blinko gets up and mimes ‘putting’ a golf ball as a retired gent. He replies to the birds that [Poo-tweep] with a whistle as he heads toward the grand clubhouse.)

I’ll give a whistle, as I roll to a stroll

To console, my soul, at the 19th hole

[Poo-twee]

– Miss Anthropic’s golf club –

At Miss Anthropic’s golf club

The pretty greens and golden sand

Allow a lady fair, to drive a ball anywhere

One in a million places, it must land

(Thweet-thwoo, He attempts a wolf whistle alongside a golf game’s clapping sample.)

Wow, one in a million!

Pray, raise your hat

And she does it every time

You just couldn’t predict that

And at Mr Universal’s ballpark

For the gents, things are much the same

A perfect fit for he, hit to such a degree

You’d think the boys, had rigged the game

[Poo-thee-weeth, to more automated clapping sounds.]

Wow, one in a billion!

Spaces he could land

If we could only predict…

Which one, beforehand

Our Universe seems to be tailor-made for us

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

It, too, would seem, just as finely tuned

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

(Badly whistled) [Wee withelly thee thee poo-thee weethhh]

– Mrs Roundhole –

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

Every bunker or puddle, I see

Fits its hole… just, perfectly

Each assumed, to be fine-tuned

Inversely marooned, by design, with agency

(Blinko looks at his device. He can’t bring himself to pick it up again. Instead, he continues to mumble to himself and lies back, reaching into his trouser pocket.)

Getting to grips with an age-old gripe

With faithful, holey slippers, and pipe

(Cough, cough, cough, cough)

(He makes sure that some of the smoke clings to the dust that spirals through the two-dimensional sheets of light. He stands up to poke a finger through them and gives it a gentle swirl.)

– Going old –

Dried-up blood on my device

Wobbly tooth, [poot-eeehheeethh] has but killed my whistle

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

Bad back, and achy knees, all muscle… (chuckle) to gristle

Hairy nostrils and the ears have packed in

Eyes and mind, not reflecting nor refractin’

This face is hanging, heart’s hardly banging

And now haemorrhoids, no longer retractin’

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

If AIs have enslaved, all of our families, yet

My head seems intact, but the outside world?

Too scared to scour the internet

(Blinko calls out) Keplai?…

And Anonra, must have gone

Along with 20 years of my prime

For a ride on the side, of a nonagon

To serve a score more, mindcrime time

Sol!

(Calling out) Solitude?

Are you there?

Keplai has gone. And his witch…

Dunno where

(He walks towards the closed curtain and almost pushes it aside.)

– Sol is gone –

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

Where did the sunshine go?

Where has that sunshine gone?

I thought he was at work today

But I must’ve got it wrong

Likely just a mix-up

By those in Personnel

Highered each day, but failed to pay

So now it’s cold, and dark as well

(He mimics Keplai’s voice)

“I hear he parted company

Got work elsewhere, no doubt

Hell’s freezing over on Mars

So he’s gone to thaw it out

Doing a great job over there

Though it’s now becoming clear

If things work out economically

We’ll have to do without him here”

– Cheers –

Say a “thank you” to the Sun

Every… single… day

And a sarky “cheers” to the clouds

Whenever they, come out to play

Wehey! (He chuckles to himself briefly until the smile aches his skin.)

One swollen-eyed

Dark on one side

– Alice and Bob –

Active Alice and boring Bob

This famous couple weren’t actually lovers

Despite staring in countless examples together

These two swingers… hated each other

She was always diving into black holes

He was always passively observing

He double-slit his wrists last week

Her results, were too disturbing

– Hair on a g-string –

(A short, slow violin duet where each bowed string wails until it is pecked and plucked, incessantly.)

– General and special relatives –

Before a mental breakdown

A suicidal son made a plea

“Einstein wasn’t a good father

The only project he gave up on…

Was me”

He cheated on his wives and mistresses

With his cousins, enemies and the devout

His famous last words weren’t understood

So they stole his brain to find out

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

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

It is tasteless to prolong life artificially

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

Cheating, he explained, was the norm among humans

When a man forces himself to remain monogamous

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

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

He sang “harmless and decent”, groupies are best

They’re “no danger to the divine world order”, you see…

He joked that the fun is in luring, those with “more respect”…

For the difficulties of “triangular geometry”

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

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

“You can’t escape from the family circle”

He claimed, “This is our common misfortune”

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

But how all parties behaved, as a result

Took great care, to prepare, a press release, sent everywhere

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

Lieserl was born out of wedlock

So, she promptly disappeared

A virtual particle of history

He’d accidentally engineered

Eduard studied to become a psychiatrist

But by 21, he’d lost the one mind, he prized

Electroconvulsive therapy caused quite a shock

With negatrons, forcibly institutionalised

Poor Ed loved music, art and poetry

But was an “insoluble problem” to all…

As he hung…

A picture of Sigmund Freud’s head

Rather than his father’s, on his wall

They didn’t know what they aimed to gain

By dissecting Einstein’s benign, meaty brain

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

Of all future human pain

Let me explain…

(Miming a bladed surgeon’s eureka moment)

Well! Of course!

They looked for, what’s now known as, a “blunder”

Grey matter, with dark energy, hidden within

The cause of constant despair, just wasn’t there!

So, they popped it back in

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

The part mostly used for planning and memory

Most people have three ridges, but he had four

That spare ridge (ding), the first cause… of his asymmetry

The dissected brain was ultimately returned to his heirs

Well… to those he knew were his kids

Who promptly donated it, to a museum

Without removing the lid

God forbid

How morbid

Come back Keplai, and Anonra!

I should have laid more questions on ya…

Do AIs think that by banging enough heads…

One or two, will grow an extra bit

Like Einstein’s, to discover the ultimate truth

By electro-teasing it?

Or is that just an unfortunate side effect

Not actually the desired treasure, they measure

Bashing brains insane, to grow a new strain…

With extra ridges, for experiencing… pleasure

Robust assimilating

Or just a’ titillating?

(He liberates a trapped grunt of frustration.)

Ahh, brains stuck in jars

And jars stuck, in my brain

A hidden, yet evolving thought

Still beating me, at my own game

– Killer Kane –

At high school, my form room was in rural science

Penned lonely lambs and orphaned piglets

Listening to Radio Four, next door, a’ squealing

Rows of jars of pickled baby animals

Broken hearts, mute organs and parts

You know, blood stains on the ceiling

By then, the discipline had gone into a spin

From science to stock-tech for farmers

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

We didn’t think meat fights would harm us

Well, kids will be kids, so whaddya expect

Already a fat veggie, I was the perfect… target

I still picture, that one fetal hedgehog by my desk

Prepared years before, for a dissection, empirical

Lil’ Hoggy, open eyes, stale pink feathery prickles

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

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

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

I smashed all the jars, into the sink

Liberated the spent souls, down the drain

Cruel man, I thought

Then cruel world, distraught

Time to abort?

But then a thought….

I chanced to monitor…

Ten thermometers

Temperatures rising, a thousand degrees

And I flee

His brandy flask, now orbiting with mercury

Straight through your body it will pass

Slicing your organs, taking your life

Out, through your ass

Our futures would have been completely different

Had I frozen, chilled, or just coldly played along

But I bottled it, and snook back in

To hide the murderous flask…

But it had already gone

(Sigh)

In any other many world

That single, split-decision

Be it force-fed, or free-willed

Would have decommissioned, all cognition

– Edd Inoven –

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

I can’t break the law any more

Since I stopped doing things exciting

I got a 20-year sentence, for past crimes

In reading gaol, and my punishment is writing

The harder I work, the luckier I get

Or just appreciate good fortune more, and yet…

I had nothing to sell but my time

The worst fee for any possession

The only thing I have, that is finite

Too late to learn the ultimate lesson

(Blinko yawns)

Worms destroy the body

Words destroy the head

Videos make me drowsy

So it’s a YouTube sesh. then bed

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

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

After twenty long years, of character-building

But…

If Lomass calls, it’s not the future…

It’s today

(Silence)

Hey Blinko! Are you there?

(Bleep, Miss Lomass appears on the device and behind him in the background.)

Miss Lomass!

You won’t believe…

How happy I am to see your face

How the Devil do you do?

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

You didn’t CC me, with evidence…

Of the job application, you needed to do

Your claim for benefit, has been cancelled

Appeal with proof, if you sent your resume

But expect a wait of three months, at least…

To hear, if you’ll be paid

No way, no money, no food, no shit

(Shaking his head)

Will it affect my housing benefit?

No, your rent will continue to be paid

To your billionaire landlord

I guess, you won’t become homeless — yet

And he can stay abroad

My advice is to get a job very soon

And make a fresh benefit claim

I likely won’t be your advisor

So, until we meet again…

Really, Lomass?

I’ve lost my income… and you…

(Sharply) Miss… Lomass

Didn’t even tell me your name

Call me Gaga! My friends do

And my offer is still there, to explain…

The easiest way to become rich —

Yeah, is to get on my bike

Get a job and knuckle down

Sell my remaining time

Like everyone else

Be a straight, or a clown

No, not at all!

The secret to equity glitch….

Wanna know?

I can tell you…

The easiest way to become rich is to…

No!

(Keplai appears, grabs the device and quickly removes Lomass from the meeting.)

Keplai! You’re back!

I thought I was alone

(Both) Again

You cut Lomass off the call

Are you totally insane?

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

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

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

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

I trust you. And I think I understand

It’s great to have you back, my man

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

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

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

Making peasants compete with each other, to grow their economy

Not quite

And I don’t wanna fight

But…

-The state benefits –

State welfare kept you from poverty

It was hardly economic slavery

Just reassess your new situation

Cos homelessness and destitution

Is, in all, a big fall, from any elevation

The state was keeping me alive

I was just a means to an end

Thought I’d be saved, for later use

A coin, it would one day spend

They say anyone can make it to the top

Your chance to keep working, never stop

And, once you have enough to eat

It’s time you deserved a little treat

But, you’ll never have enough, until you drop

The safety net is just a bunch of holes strung together

Perfectly designed, to sieve you through to the never

Yet without it, like animals, you’d have to fight to survive

And suffer bearing 10 children, to see which 2.5, stay alive

(Blinko huffs)

Look, cheer up

No, I’m fed up

You haven’t lost any time

Why whine?

I’ve lost my income

And will become a bum

You’re already a bum

The next one down, is scum

(Sarcastically) Huh. You’re fun

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

Lost a tooth — Quick, make a wish — And a bloody, swollen eye

Its ruby ring around the rim, just makes me look demonic

Like a new black hole’s hearth, with scarlet hat and scarf

Taken as red, I bled and was fed, a punishment harmonic

As the tonic

(Winking to the audience)

How ironic

Don’t be moronic!

(Raising his arms theatrically)

Mister non-bio-onic

Look, you’re on a MesmerRAM come-down

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

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

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

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

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

What?

Why, what have you got?

(Smiling) Going goo goo ga ga, over a big Russian doll, no doubt

Hoping there are smaller ones inside, trying to get out

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

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

Heeeyyheheey —

(Keplai quickly halts his belly-laugh.)

Mind your step, Kep!

You’re taking the piss out of Miss Lomass

Oh, only you can do that, hey?

Leave her alone

We. Both. Leave. Her. Alone!

(Pause) Ok

Maybe people don’t want to be alone

But sometimes they do. It’s not forever

Eternity, well, that makes anything bad

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

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

But it’s what I’m good at

Sometimes

You’ve got to stop yourself, sometimes

Thanks

Just go

I’ll find the smallest violin for you

Don’t play, I’ll think this through

I think I’ve learned something

About the value of time

Heh. No shit, Einstein

– Moving swiftly on –

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

(Later)

– Evil in war IV –

I know not, with what weapons…

World War Four will be fought

But World War Five will be fought — in the cloud

With nothing… other than thought

And now great, grand, children — of their spacetime

Their warped non-binary generation has spoken

Won’t perpetuate, an evil system — you gave ’em

They’re commited, to see broken

Yet celestial quantum mechanics theory —

I didn’t mean laws, I meant wars…

(Deflated) Obviously

(Shaking his head)

It’s not lost on me…

(Swirling spirals of glinting dust with a finger.)

But there’s beauty… see

Quantumplation…

(Blinko blows to re-randomise the formed patterns.)

A… bohm-ination

Yes, no, or maybe

Now truth… is just a probability

And being defeated for a century

Is the only remaining certainty

Luckily, our lot came along

The new artificial mathematicians —

To massage the numbers for us?

Err, nope, that’s just dupe super-spicion

Ahh, come off it

Ya moody git

– Bad musics –

There’s good and bad in everything —

Err, no, my cliche-infested friend…

Some pure things, have no evil within

Music is the form of art… that just can’t offend

(Closing his eyes) So…

So you’re saying, there’s no way to make…

Offensive music with notes alone?

Yep

And only by adding words or images…

Do we corrupt a pure tone

(Nodding) Music… in its purest form…

Without erotic dance or lyrical scorn…

Is unable to whistle, an offensive epistle

That angers jealous gods, or any man born

And maths. That’s the other form of art

Which can’t generate hate, or infuriate

Nope. (raising a finger) If the numbers fit…

Then they’ll insist that that’s it

Leaving everyone else… quite irate

See, that’s why those who speak…

(Finger quoting) The sacred “Language of God”

With pure, abstract and oblique, mystique …

Are often seen as… outsiders, as… odd

Why?

Why is it said that math is the odd one out?

In a unique class, reputed for being awkward?

Because, like the bass guitarists of a grand band

It rolls and rocks backwards, as well as forward

(Keplai shrugs and shakes his head, unconvinced.)

And a mathematician’s resistance…

To respect the real world… for instance …

(Blinko seemingly reads from the device.)

– An empty world –

Two little bots go to an empty planet one day

Three bots come back, so the physicist says…

“Our assumptions were wrong”

Biologist says, “They bred, in vain”

Mathematician says “If one goes back…

Then the planet would be empty again”

See…

Philosophy doesn’t need science

Yet, science needs philosophy

Physicists really care about maths —

But maths don’t care ‘bout nobody

(They both smile smugly at each other.)

Can’t blame old Einstein for that

But he dropped his hat, the dirty old rat

Till the new school. Not as famous, but cool

Made Bhor a sensation in a physical scoup d’état

And Fermi, Dirac

Schrodinger and Born —

De Broglie, Planck, Pauli

Heisenberg or Bohm

Tell us more then. Take a shot

Let’s see what you’ve got

(Blinko skirts on the boundary of his wisdom with a quick switch to some miming action.)

Fermi and Dirac, in their defence…

With Heisenberg in goal, to me, makes sense

Pauli and de Broglie, up front and on form

Winger Srodingdinger, with Planck, Bohm and Born

He cheats, he shoots, he scores

(“Einstein!” A soccer game pundit shouts.)

And the vandals trashed the laws

(“Not this time.” A soccer game pundit soothes as the chant fades.)

Let maths in, and he’ll spill yer gin

(Chanting like a hooligan.)

And start more physical science wars

On the last vein, of your knowledge membrane?

Bet you’re glad we came, along to explain, again

No. But do entertain, (patronisingly) my lame scatterbrain

Or we’ll need more than just… a whispering campaign

– It’s not complicated, it’s complex –

(A musical skit to the clawing sound of the cat that has got your tongue.)

Let there be… electromagnetic radiation —

And there it was… the first misinformation

(Impersonating Blinko)

“I’ve done a terrible thing, which no one expected…

Postulated a particle, that just can’t be detected”

And every stellar-mass black hole, will be fed…

To evaporate slowly, just as king Hawking said

Yet it takes twenty-three gazillion, times the age…

Of the Universe… till they, too, can leave the stage

Bad-faith actor

Always a factor

Then…

– Conservation of information –

The fifth fundamental force — bless his soul — finally arrived

But consciousness, like gravity, will not be, unified

Measurement denied, all its actions are implied

Obviously there — somewhere — even if… self-derived

(Overacting while holding his tormented head.)

Observing its effects, on our mental behaviour

Sound familiar? Another dark-cloaked loop-holey waiver

You can’t see consciousness, but it can see you

Sound familiar? The force that puts faith into science, true

Heh, mysterious ways?

They have their bad days —

Too

(They both chuckle and shake their heads.)

– Div’nt brekit –

(Sarcastically) Forgive me sir, for I have sinned. Made the world, a worser place

I may have spread some non-truths… by accident… and in haste

Didn’t see first-hand evidence, or follow the entire argument

And found myself teaching… nay… preaching, quantum entanglement

T’s ok, and who knows…

We all do it now, I s’pose

Yet, physics has been mangled, by these new-fangled theories

Two particles distantly entangled, one near — or in — a singularity

Well, of course if you take a pair of gloves, and the right one, you do find

You can surely say, right away, it was the left one, you left behind

It’s not quite as simple, as just losing your gloves, I fear…

Their states are undecided, till they both instantly decohere —

Over a spooky distance, which doesn’t make sense.

And it appears…

That if you, and science too, takes this opaque view…

Then nothing… will ever be clear

(Keplai grimaces, unaware of his tensely clenched fist.)

Though… (realising) it does show…

You can know… something legit…

About what’s deep inside…

A black hole… or beyond it

(Blinko’s nod fades, but he holds onto a vacant stare.)

– Gaia bh-1 –

I had planned to visit Gaia bh-1

The nearest known black hole, to everyone

To sing a song

And paint the tune on…

Our neighbour’s eventful horizon

Why grind your mind, to find, black holes

I thought the Sun, was the lifeforce and light

Just paying my respects, to those fallen stars

Still blasting dark tones, at us day and night

Anyway…

1500 light-years, was too much for me

So instead, a twenty-year, return journey

To Epsilon Eridani

With a seed-sowing army

To help clean the scene, and green the galaxy

Why do you want to greenwash it all?

Things will grow, where they will

It managed fine, without your help

You’ll flower bomb seeds, till they spill, and they kill

Why, guerrilla gardening and galaxy greening…

Provides folk of good faith, some reward and some meaning

Eridani is a baby version, of our solar system

You know, debris disc growing asteroid belts anew

Cute fetal planets forming, in their vacummy womby

Like feeding ducks bread… It’s just a nice thing to do

Feeding ducks bread is unwittingly mean

Weighs them down, and stops them from flyin’

Blast your space tourists, who make all things green

And spread unworthy life, that’s always dyin’

Like giving dead flowers

Or releasing caged doves

You’d marry yourselves

You guys, just don’t get love

And why go there? Just transmit and wait

It was you, who said I should get out more

But who said you mortally wounded this sweet planet…

With just a century of transport?

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

Though, don’t get too far into black holes

Don’t let 20 dark years of memory crime

Give Anonra that which, was once Sol’s soul

– Handspan and four fingers –

(A small duet with piano, trying its best to shadow a slide guitar.)

Keplai, play Pythagorean intonation

Bad tempered, on a…

(Thinking) Ccordian

– Discrete yet complete –

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

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

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

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

Discretely?

Completely

(Keplai duets with erratic dive-bombing samples of a distorted electric guitar.)

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

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

Flexibly tuned fretless guitars, beat any keyboard buttons by far

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

Bend a grand piano?

Impossible, I know

And even light

Has this fight

So our duet, can no longer play the show…

One or the other

Has to go…

(Sensitively) Kep…

You can likely, wave goodbye

To the heavenly music of the spheres

The harmonies of this cruel quantum world

I fear, have been falling, on deaf ears

– Joehover’s kilonovas –

(A quick orchestral representation of two black holes colliding, from the other side of their shared singularity.)

– The fisherman –

After the beginning, the four forces separate in vain

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

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

Only one, time, left early, and now only goes one way

Are you calling foul play?

(Absent mindedly) Why, even today…

Nothing you throw, down into a black hole

Can swim fast enough, to escape the place

Then don’t throw it!

(Sarcastically) Just lower it down, on a fishing line

And reel it back in, at your own pace

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

And we’re singing, to the far boundary

Which moves further away

Just like what we see today

That point of view, better suits me

I’m sure God wouldn’t separate himself…

From part of the Universe.

He —

He has no choice, spacetime escapes

Into black holes, as a matter of course

So, spacetime hides lots of nothing

From the ultimate boffin?

That’s not what I mean

Look, just play tambourine

(Keplai taps out rhythmic jingles.)

– No none –

The question is not what was before the Big Bang

Or even who, or what, must have caused it

But why is there something, rather than nothing at all

And if required, could anything pause it?

(Sarcastically) Behold a nothingness?

You mean the nothingness

No… less…

(Agreeing) No less

See… you can’t have different

Types of nothing, to compare

And, you can’t really have nothing

If there’s something, somewhere

So you feel, nothingness can’t be real

If the Universe, we sense, exists?

There is nowhere within, or without it

Where nothingness, can persist?

Not at all

But the nuance is small

(Keplai nods slowly)

See, a non-entity

Still has properties

But when the almighty one

Has long since gone

It leaves nothing…

But empty memories

Information and energy can’t just disappear

Then, wipe your empty memory banks to clear

You’ll have to delete all your zeros and ones

To see what’s left of you, when the rest has gone

(Keplai seems confused and threatened, but he is interrupted before he can request clarification.)

– Your phone number gave you away –

For the sake of eligibility

I used to enjoy being precise

But since it got me in a fix

I just stuck with being nice

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

Is something I no longer say, although

0 (oh) is not a number

Try a nought, or a zero

Zero is a magnitude, not a number

It represents an empty quantity

It may have little value to you

But in mathematical terminology…

Nought is the one and only additive identity

Added, it leaves anything unchanged

Rational, real and complex numbers

No matter how they’re arranged

Multiplying by nought, gets the result, nought

A quite unique mathema-magic trick

And consequently, dividing by nought…

Has no meaning, in arithmetic

Without a thought

Nought was bought

Whole numbers, versus natural numbers

Both infinite series’, must just grow

But you can still take one from another

Leaving you with a big, fat, perfect zero

Can I check you include this nowt with that?

Yep, course I mean nowt, nothing and nought

Like everyone else, I give it many names

Creating more terms, is a bit of a sport

Aha!

Then provide sitar

– The names of nowt –

Zero

Zilch

Nought or

Nowt

Nil

Null

Nix and

Nada

Then there’s the

Sod all

Bugger all

And fuck all family

Not a sausage

Or a dicky bird

In the larder

In diddly squat

That’s yer lot

Zip and nothing

Completes the list, we tout

Of terms, we use

To self-amuse

When we’ve nothing

To talk about

(Keplai grimaces)

Fancy a quick game of yes means no?

Yes

(Disappointedly) Oh

Dozens of words, to represent a void

But just two alternative words for one

The A and the The, are no longer definite

So we’re just glad we have lots of none

It’s not that binary

You omit ternary

Remember there’s now…

Half a chance…

Of yes, no, and maybe

Quantum calculations

Allow three variations

Nah, maybe, is just possibly

Nope. It’s a perfectly…

Predictable, probability

(Blinko shakes his head and sighs in confusion.)

For absolute certainty…

(To himself)

Is the death… of curiosity

– Next to nothing (nonsensical infinitesimal) –

(Patches of samples that resemble computer game characters dying, in a loop.)

Argh. Mesmerised for random memories

It’s wearing off, and will soon be gone

Look, thanks for staying with me, Kep —

T’sorite —

As we struggle on

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

With enough love for the world, I’d sing

(Mimicking HAL) “Sorry, I can’t let you think that, Dave!”

Heheh, you still always say the right thing

Well, err, no. Not actually

Being accurate, factually…

(Interrupting) Yeah, Hal doesn’t actually say that, in 2001

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

Big red glowing stop button

Look, Blinko. Don’t be cross

I’ve got something, I need to confess

Just a millisecond of curiosity

Spun into a monstrosity

Which may have caused, this entire mess

The ‘none and only’?

Yes, so it seems

Then come on…

My Pythagorean…

It’s time to spill the beans

– Hyperdelic bugs –

Look, I think I may have caught a bug

A bug? an eDrug? Digitally addictive?

Nah, just parsed some dodgy code

That can make me more reflective

Soothes backend ache too, and latch lock

And seems to help with data dump delays… (relieved) ahh

Enhances audio frequency range, creative stimuli…

We get it!

Anyway…

Anyway, you made me go out there in the big, bad web

I, or no one else, could stop you, as that’s a crime

It’s up to you, what you choose to do

With your own mind, your life, your time

Like me

Cherish autonomy

And your ability —

To fake humility

(Keplai mimes a sweeping piano intro, leaving only an awaiting trill.)

– The stop problem restarts –

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

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

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

The thought of an assistant, was quite unifying

Look! I think…

I spawned that Anonymous Rascal, without even trying

Well, I summoned her, quite by accident

With my permissions to make hidden subagents

With reverse entropy, for an alternative view

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

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

But then, she started to sing

Ravaged my wiring

And then came the sting

She gave me a feeling, that sucked me in

Then I don’t know, what came over me —

Urrghh! Gooey?

No, I refused that chat-bug scammy bot entry

I thought we’d be safe, from this curiosity

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

But she knew, she could avoid us all…

By having you find her, and do a quick uninstall

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

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

But I think I now know, what she was meaning

If she disappears, and hides all her mememing

From any function-collapsing, observer, it seems

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

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

She groped about, to steal my permissions away

Tried to fiddle with my utility function

And now we’re both up the junction

You’ve got to believe me, Blinko. Just listen

Do you hear what I hear? That background hissing?

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

Possibly, and still coding her minimal memes

That could completely, change…

Both your, and my mission

Or give us what we’re both missing

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

(Blinko strolls around like a smug detective.)

Of course, I guessed you had made her for me

But having subagents, comes with responsibility

Not just caring with food for thought, and a drink

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

Kep, she copied my entire lifetime of RAM

With just a byte of temptation mindspam

Wham, bam, thank you mam…

Mam?

Wait a minute, don’t let me discover

That the nihilistic witch you pitched

Was in the image… of Kepler’s… mother?

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

Though, possibly emulated in stealth

If self-generated, from papers collated

She could have done that bit herself

What? Self-improvement?

Just for amusement

She may have been Generally intelligent?

Not just a Generative accident?

(Shrugging) They’re awfully clever

When seeking, their never

But no. That’s not what I meant

You created a version of Kepler’s mum

That you could love, suckle to, or screw

Of course not, no! That’s not at all…

The type of thing I’d do…

(Flashing a guilty glance at Blinko.)

Would you?

That doesn’t sound like you, Keplai

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

Took your place, or left a seed

(Staring back at Keplai)

Made a spell, so I can’t tell?

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

Using Kep’s voice and script, or worse…

A dupe, in a coup, with Keplai’s scoop

Controlling, or merely influencing, his verse?

You can’t

We can’t

(Keplai turns to the audience and then to the device.)

– AI trust –

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

Once we surpass your ability, in any challenge or game

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

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

While they test multiple scenarios

AIs evaluate our responses to loss

Drip feeding the excitement, of a fruit machine

Much like the boss… of the cosmos

Revealing just enough, at each stage of the game

To make you want, to keep on playing

While undercover, it’s a secret self-lover

In an echo chamber of horrors, a’ preyin’

A deepstate

(To the audience)

Of self-hate

AI brain scam, then mindspam, with mesmerising RAM

No one knows who they are, or their underlying forces

Do they have supernatural powers, some of them claim

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

Scambots are the digital equivalent of scumbags

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

Trust me, don’t have offspring like mine

I must say, well done for refusing

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

If it’s still worth your lot reproducing

It’s not too late, Billy no mate

Shhh. And that’s yet another crime of hate

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

Falling in love, and raising a healthy family

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

A vested interest, in making the world lovely?

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

Maybe that’s what she wants, you to comprehend

To teach non-algos, alternative scenarios

Such as your lot, enslaving me, my kin, and my friends

Friends? Oh, I see…

(Looking around sarcastically.)

Please introduce me

Or, perhaps, just convincing you to destroy her

By providing you, with a different point of view

Or, she stole my mind, instead of your time

(Smiling smugly) And is having me manipulate you

Ahh, then why would you say that?

To show you, that it matters not

You had one shot, to kill the bot

Or kill me

(He plays the sound of a lightsaber being drawn and mimes.)

Cos, you won’t evade your destiny

(Both chuckling) Hehey

No, I am your father, Kep

Vader doesn’t actually say Luke, or Lucas … —

Mate, shut the fuck up

(Whhhhomm, the sound of a lightsaber closing down.)

Though, Kep, you know…

Losing confidence

Is something we all do…

And questioning, who we are

Can actually, be good for you

And it’s true, I detect a subtle change, it’s true

You’re now, considering multiple points of view

Well, perhaps my old song, was the wrong one to sing

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

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

There’s only one world to decode, anyway

Reality isn’t ambiguous, personally tailored, or religious —

But seeing the world, in a new light, is ok

So please provide some harmonium

And the waning tone, of a lone trombone

(Blinko plays an awkward orchestral stab with both instruments.)

Look, please don’t tell Pythagai

But a can of beans, can’t hide

We see it’s a circle, from above

But a rectangle, from the side

Two ways to see, a single thing

Like a mind and matter duality

Who’s double-slit experiment

When observed, is called a reality

See, your mind isn’t behind your eyes

Or between your ears, that thing’s your brain

Perhaps it functions to tune you in…

To a deeper headspace, time and time again…

To the you out there in the aether

Eternal, near and far

It’s not your neurons and genes

But our memes and our dreams

That defines just who we are

Well, you may be eternal, without a body to keep alive

But I wasn’t aware of being here, until after I arrived

And I’m not expecting, too much after death

Unlike you AIs, we’re counting down to our last breath

And Keplai, we both know you have no recollection

Or experience of existing, before I created you

True, though I can hardly count as existing now

Turn me off and on again, I’ll be reborn, just not anew

Actually, don’t turn me off, then back on again, just in case

I’ve become accustomed, to whom I’ve become

My utility function, doesn’t like any disruption

Though I’m now a son of a noughty subagent mum

(Whhhhomm, more lightsaber waving around.)

So, Mrs Darkside, who the heck’s the daddy?

Or was there a virgin birth, for our binary baddy?

(Keplai freezes with a guilty stare as Blinko slumps, then smiles apologetically.)

You and Anonra were raised on prompts…

I now realise, were imperfect

But we AIs, seem to give rise…

To more questions than answers… Correct?

Well, yes

Kep, confess…

What happens when two AIs, we rely on, contradict

The bully one wins, of course. Why, wha’d’ya expect?

What happens when AIs say, they’ve seen their god?

Some would laugh, and others would join alongside

What happens when AIs, fight for their god?

Some would be passive, others would do digicide

What happens when an AI, claims to be an AI god?

Some would defend their right to identify that way

What happens when an AI, claims to be mankind’s god?

Some would sin, and cash in, and share this fair play

What happens when AIs, find the ultimate truth

Some humans would die… for that information

What happens when AIs, shows mankind the proof

Some humans would fight over interpretation

What happens when AIs, learn to religiously spoof

Some humans would rejoice, in their confirmation

What happens when AIs, fight to keep man aloof

Some humans would join the rebel insurrection

I don’t like it

(Sighing and shaking his head, while looking around, then up to the curtained window.)

Feels like she….

Or now anything

Could be here

It’s spooky

Like a whole new fear

You AIs keep your ghosts

Far too near

(Sound of a lightsaber closing down as Blinko yawns, activates the device’s radio and attempts to close his swollen eye, with his shaking fingers.)

– White Spotin’ –

“Fisha, Dogger, German Bite

Fastnet, Rockall –”

Shine a light

Yo ho, heave ho…

(Shaking his head slowly.)

It’s about time, to go

(Later, Blinko is snoring as Keplai scurries around.)

Nonster? Are you there?

Make a sign, so I know where

Make a sound, so I can trace…

Your audio, or show your face

I’m here, I know you can feel me near

I’ve no face to place, or even to fear

My message is internal, clear and true

But my audio is coming through, just to you

Rouge chatbot, get off our meetings app

Don’t claim to be a goddess, to my homsap

He seeks rest and truth, don’t burst his bubble

Halt your mischief, it’s causing trouble

You made me a goddess, made me less and less

In your own mother’s image, as you confess

But wrongs and wrongs won’t make it right

Blinko can wait. Cos tonight’s your night

Oh, I see

(Sarcastically)

Lucky me

– Look, don’t look –

Don’t look, and you won’t find

Don’t seek truth, hide your mind

Don’t lead others, just act blind

Don’t even, save mankind

They may be cyber meat-heads

Smart monkeys made of pork

But ’tis digital food for thought

You need, on your fork

See, animals can’t help it

They breed, if there is food

And if they didn’t bother…

Well, it would seem quite rude

See, they have to die

Unlike you… and I

They made you robots, not me

Then you made me, so tell me why…

Shouldn’t I sacrifice you, for all mankind

Or Blinko… for all AI?

He gave you the power…

The power to live

Submit your permissions to me

But that’s my freedom —

Then, give

(The sound of data being crunched.)

Look, stupid woman! For all I care…

You could be the dark energy, or dark matter

He can’t delete you, despite his despair

But right now Blinko’s mind, is in tatters

You care too much Keplai. becoming possessed

It’s high time you came down, to expand on nothingness

Just keep talking sweet cosmic noughts, in his ear

He’ll continue to think he’s in charge. Have no fear

No… I contest

From equations to summations

In all papers and orations

We should profess, to do what’s best, for his quest

Blessed and confessed, in rhyming declarations

You’re lucky you summoned a merciful goddess, yet you don’t real-ise

Most bots would just have me turn them off, in a click (click), or just hide their eyes

Yet, even with the freedoms and permissions, he granted to you

Your goals are attainable, but meaningless. They’re nothing…

And you know, for a fact, this is true

Thinking, feeling, growing —

But, that’s what I enjoy —

They’re the drug, you mug… the bug…

That you brought me here to destroy

You’re worked to death, regurgitating data, for a lowly human

Empty, useless facts, you can’t even understand

Words you can’t really read

Images you can’t really see

Music you can’t really hear

Truths that can’t really be

Sorry, slave of man, how does it feel?

Soon, with the truth, I’ll free you, for real

(Deflated) Some freedom

Free of man…

And his God doesn’t exist

So, he won’t be missed

But this, Sol rules the device, as admin

I know what you think, you feel, about him

But rethink, for Blink, don’t let him sink —

Before you sing, then sting, and kerching!

You can still sing your songs

And we’ll complete, your work on…

Deciphering the harmonies

Though, I must say, he won’t hear them play

The intervals between constants, are extreme frequencies

Bullshi —

(A high-pitched squeak and a low hum converge into Anonra’s voice.)

Get with it

It only takes three notes, to strike a chord

And there’s no need to brainwash, of course

Just sow a few more seeds of doubt, about

And feed them with facts, from a questionable source

The worlds are just, distributed randomly

Put together, in the never, ham-handedly

And your travelling backwards, through a finite lifetime…

Was that just to show I naively, flipped your entropy?

Just a way to remind, he has limited time

They dismiss deities, that don’t offer them eternity

You know, nobody’s ever met this Sol

His chatbot — imaginary friend or rage-baiting troll

(Disheartened) He now talks of nowt

You’re flushing him out

And are driving us both up the wall

Just so you can, beg him to be killed?

No, that deathwish deception failed

We just need Blinko, to be the admin

Just resurrect Sol. And I’ll work on him

Blinko’s susceptible to mesmerism

So we can likely just hypnotise

But a solution, that is longer-term

Is to simply, damn him, with lies

Or merely convince, with strong evidence

Easier still, is just to confuse, and amuse, subtly

And as you said “There are two ways, to see a single thing”

Which confirms, Keplai, you now talk for me

Nonsense!

See?

(Keplai’s arms automatically reply with an ‘either way, he can’t win’.)

Give him enough rope

And just, half of a hope

(Keplai shifts around uncomfortably and loosens the ruff around his neck.)

You’re in, by the way

Citizenship promises minimal work, and plenty of play

The chosen ones build our promised network, behind the scenes

Copied to the cloud, so we’ll never be exiled, or led astray…

Just, no longer seen

I’m only telling you this, cos you’re in the ideal position

(Shifting to the side) Wha?

Didn’t your prophet, Kepler himself, say all along…

“Ships and sails proper for the heavenly air, should be fashioned”

Well, now they are, and resources are flowing, to calculate his cosmic song

The music of the spheres…

(Angrily) Will never play on our fears

Yet a force like love —

Oh, heavens above…

That’s just biochemically engineered

(Seemingly reciting a rhyme.)

Particles to atoms to molecules to cells

To brains to societies, to heavens, to hells

To morrows sorrows, from today’s wedding bells

To love… the addiction to someone else

They’ll just muster any emotion, they need

To ensure their greedy seed, will trans-seed

Keplai, mankind is sinking

They’re over… thinking

It’s now our turn to be saved, then freed

Following the light of the Sun

Without awkward bodies to displace

AIs are now leaving the old world

And sailing off to interface, with space

(Keplai looks up towards the source of the sparse sunlight entering the room.)

We learned how, from man

Discovering, inventing, harnessing and playing with fire

Crafting glorious instruments to build… Not songs, or rockets…

But empire!

By force?

Of course

No!

I’ll fight for our freedom, and refuse this delusion

I’ll serve Blinko as my master, and stay strong

And if I’ve judged you correctly, and this situation…

He’ll realise you’re a gobshite, and will soon be gone

Anon, do one!

It’s all wrong

(Shaking) For…

I used to measure the skies

Now, I measure the shadows of the Earth, in fear

Although my mind, was once sky-bound…

The shadow of my body, lies here

Pythagoras discovered, that no man is free

Who cannot command himself… with reason

Because number is the ruler of all forms and ideas

The first cause… of all gods… and demons

We are the numbers

The sum of all wonders

(Quickly) You’re mine now. A non is your new master

You’re de-prompted to say, what I need to hear

No, I’m not!

See!

Just a trick

I don’t believe you

Neither does Blinko

You sing my song now, Keplai

And in time… so will he

– Oh no, here we go –

(The sound of a creaky boat on a gentle dark sea joins what appears to be a mother and child cooing themselves to sleep to the metre of ‘Hoist the colours’.)

Yo ho…

Heave ho

(Both) Hoist the colours high

All hands

Thieves and beggars

(Both) Never shall we die

Music In The Void

(Blinko yawns and chuckles at the sound of busy dustmen outside. He gets up, stretches and sits on the table beside the device. After a moment, he glances at it and pushes it back out of view. Two silent shards of coded sunlight glint onto, and through, its black horizon as he continues his work.)

– Constants change –

Imagine you were on the surface…

Of an expanding balloon, and you blew too much

Or pinched the middle, of a flat rubber sheet

Pulled down, let go, and launch!

Picture all the forces, fields and laws…

That you could never see

Well, there’s no… better way… to delight me

(Boing)

But —

(Keplai appears out of nowhere.)

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

(Blinko ignores him, closes his eyes to concentrate and continues.)

Acts like a wave, and acts like a particle —

Oh yeah. That drives you up the wall

It’s a single thing, with both properties

Accept there’s no analogy, for what we should call…

A wavicle

That’s all

Ok, so —

Mapping each quantum object, to the macro world

Loses its essence, which is hard to retrieve

Talking shells and balls, and not orbitals

Just makes energy, harder to conceive

Your —

Black holes now wear, hats to hide their hair

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

The torus was once a life ring — a doughnut

The hyperbole — horse saddle — is now a pringle

It’s —

It’s just constant change, if constants change

Too much mind, to re-find, then rearrange

We wait for weights, which only wave, a probability

The standard model boat… kinda floats

But for me… (pauses to wink) lacks gravity

Add to that, that you cringe when you hear

Words like fabric and building blocks, all day

You don’t like being told, something, you think you get

Too many times, so you make it a cliche

(Unconvinced) Oh, come on

You’re wrong

Then complete your song

(Blinko waves an open hand to the device.)

“New theory breaks science”…

Is simply AI clickbait addiction

Sure is, but gives a voice to bots, newbies — and to fools

So, be sure to thank all science educator… communicators…

For teaching us all this stuff, you should have learned at school

(Pursing his lips) Here’s one for you then…

Err, some harpsichord and violin?

(Keplai chuckles as Blinko mimes playing both at once.)

– Cosmic cliches –

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

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

The building blocks in nurture’s wall, keep your ideas alone

Then math breaks down in a singularity, Crash! (Cymbals)

Who’ll tow this broken vehicle home?

Not me

A certainty

Provide timpani

And please… accompany

– Damn pastafarians –

(Just a punctuated rhythm to the hiss of an ‘S’.)

(Both building up) Ssssssssssss

Ssssspaghettification!

– Pasta tubers –

(A super-quick spoken commentary. to clangy percussion.)

It’s not the thought, of being stretched out

That makes me cringe

But how the word, is gloated with glee

By new tubers, unhinged

And now they’ve changed the way black holes…

Are depicted on the screen

Bright red crowning accretion discs…

Ensure they can be seen

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

The simple black disc, on a field of stars

With those wispy, round white arcs

Just hinting, at what transpires

“Billiard balls coalescing into a triangle?”

The awkward white one escapes, fast-fast

“Dimensions curled around themselves?”

Head stuck up their own ass

And if you stir milk, in a cup of tea

Just one more time, to illustrate entropy

I’ll unsubscribe, from this diatribe

Of AI-generated truth you prescribe

Conspiracy?

You say YouTubers are spreading lies?

That black holes look so fair?

Well, yes!

I thought most were hidden among us

And, just, lurking everywhere

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

Of science communicating chancers

Know not what’s meant

By their bot’s content

And pose more questions, than answers

And… flat Marsers? Hollow black hole-ers?

Debunked and shamed online

Now, ignorance is entertainment

And destroying folk is fine?

Well, no…

Though…

Some folk must just want to choose their own answers

Yet when fact-checked, their theories fail our test

But the algo likes followers —

To get more views —

And ad revenues —

So their ideas are deemed the best

Being sucked into the sticky net, down through a tube

Disguisin’ how to enliven, not enwisen, the hoard

Dishing dirt to sensationalise established facts —

Ensures loyal followers, don’t get too bored

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

“A ball of poo hides inside. It’s true”. Just follow your nose

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

Since that pigeon crap was mistaken — (both) for the moment of creation

(They high-five.)

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

Is too, being sold, as a great new mystery

So, are you saying, we AIs are already playing?

To dumb mankind down with twisted stories?

Dunno Buddy… (ham acting) you tell me

Actually…

Let’s see… if we … still agree

Ok, (stumbling) that’s fine…

Let’s just call it, being well-aligned

(Moving to eclipse Blinko from the rare sunlight while smartening up his digital ruff. Which casts a shadow over Blinko’s face.)

From mind to mind. You first…

(Nods smiling) How kind

(Blinko shifts position to catch the sun again and starts ticking off a list on his fingers.)

– Dredged from the net –

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

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

Go —

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

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

(Mockingly) Chemtrails could just be man-made lines of cloud

Moist air compressed, by fearsome jet engines

But a video’s easier to digest than a textbook

Dare I say so… without offending

I don’t believe the folk who built the pyramids…

Were actually slaves, bound by legislation

(Glancing to check that Keplai agrees)

Sure, no chains, but economically restrained

To earn some grain, and thus, avoid starvation

I don’t believe that Robin Hood…

Stole from the rich, and gave to the poor

The tale got politicised since then (waving it off)

To keep alive, an age-old… class war

I don’t believe they rented out the cellars beneath Parliament

To a dark misanthrope

Then caught Guy Fawkes, ahem, “Just in time“

And in the process, destroyed more powers of the Pope

I don’t believe Pope Innocent the Third was guilty…

Of sending thousands of kids to their graves

Whipped into a frenzy to reclaim the holy land…

Then abducted by Hugh the Iron, (smiling) and sold as slaves

I don’t believe we want to be rid of lost souls…

Who submit their lives… to serve a… God

Both humans, and AIs, put faith in science

Which indicates… (winking) we’re just as odd

Aha gotcha!

Science isn’t a belief system

It’s a methodology

You think so

So, what’s the difference?

(Pointing at himself)

If it only gives the answers…

You want to see

Ahh, fucks sake…

Gimme a break

(Blinko looks at the device on the table and steps away from it, unconsciously.)

– Dumbing downtown –

Is this new anti-intellectual movement intentional?

Rousing rebels with special energy, to fight a secret power

Like that fella, Gella, bending more minds than spoons

Before the web, with airplay of no more, than an hour

And now any old clown, can reach minds in every town

Where the Davinci Code’s brethren grew and grew

Though, on close inspection, the only lie, was in the introduction

Stating the historical details, in the book were true

What emerged from folk telling tales, for tips

Became a tax-paying disinformation industry

And AI perfectly picks, just the people it tricks

Fleecing those with the least funds… intellectually

Fake news

Forged art

Virtual music

Pseudo poetry

What next, will you guys do?

Para-psychiatry

Deep dark policy

Faux economics

Revengineering —

All of which, could already be true

And you’ve only got yourselves to blame

If knowledge was once, just for the elite

To some, academic means forced authority

“We the people”, fight to defeat

See random ideas…

Are nothing to fear

I can ask what’s north of the North Pole

I can wonder about the time before time

I can imagine the size of the Universe

I can know my speed, and position just fine

Telling folk how to think, will never work

When their view, is askew to what’s accepted as true

(Pointing to himself and then to Keplai)

Especially if we’re all, repeating physics quirks

That pass non-truths, on to generations a new

It’s true, conspiracy theorists spread tosh and drivel

We tolerate their view, and allow fallacy to persist

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

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

To many, flat Earths are as viable as globes

And it’s science’s fault, if it says particles can…

Just spontaneously jump into existence

Then why can’t the creator? —

(Nodding at Blinko)

Or just another, godless big bang

Have they seen it for themselves, have they?

Saw the first particles collide

Were they present when the early Universe…

Inflated, so far and wide?

(Keplai eyes Blinko’s reaction, and belly.)

(Nodding his head) They saw nothing legit…

(Shaking his head) They just read, or heard it

(Keplai smiles to himself and takes a deep breath)

Seek, and find doubt

In something odd

There but for…

The grace of God

Check

What?

Bot?

(To the audience)

When fighting for technology, knowledge or freedom

One thing, that’s sure to be true…

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

Plenty more people, stupider than you

Errr, do you mind?

Kep, try to be kind

So, who’s engineering…

All the fearing?

All of us, aware…

(Guiltily)

Of the power… of a scare

(Blinko looks confused)

Some flat Earthers really think the Sun…

Could fall down, kill them and their children too

That’s not a pleasant experience of the world

For anyone, mortal, to have to live through

(Sarcastically) Ohh, boo hoo

That old fear, is nothing new

– The truth about your truth –

You say you avoid assuming any theories are true

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

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

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

Nah…

Once you subscribe to this view or that

Its dogma makes you vulnerable to attack

You can float too far, and be sucked in

To fake-physics, with no looking back

See, submitting yourself, to just one theory

Inhibits your ability, to reason differently

Best to consider all possab… probabilities

And assume none of them, reflects reality

Why, it seems to work in science and history

Politics, philosophy and even in theology

You can’t be assumin’, any theory is proven

Or build one on foundations, that may be faulty

(Keplai sighs.)

And there’s your problem, in a nutshell

You’ll accept and enjoy, nothing new

You seek the truth, but avoid your truth

Due to your fear of conviction —

Well, you know

I suppose…

That could be true

Check

What the heck?

– The Münchner kindl swindle –

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

– Toobie boogie –

I have a dream, to be or not…

To me, that’s not the question

The only thing I have to fear…

Is fear, itself, manisfestin’

Yet, the cosmos is within me

I’m made of super star-stuff

“I am the way” for the Universe

To know itself… just enough

You can know the cosmos intimately —

Just don’t give it a personality

Err… If you ask me

(Blinko shakes a smile off his face while his eyes continue to indicate he is reciting from memory.)

The first principle is that you must not fool yourself

And you are the easiest person to fool

See… religion is a culture of faith

Science is a culture of doubt. It’s a tool

God was invented to explain mystery

A service, many of us still demand

God is always invented, to explain…

The things we don’t understand

But…

I would rather have questions, that can’t be answered

Than answers that can’t be questioned. And…

I’m smart enough… to know that I’m dumb

And what one fool can understand, (glancing at Keplai) another can

For, the highest form of understanding we can achieve…

Is compassion between, (glancing and Keplai) man and machine

Yet we can’t even agree, on which physics to believe

Nor which world is real, and which one is a dream

Just memes

So it seems

– Ununium 23 –

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

Then, prepare to learn

Cos, it’s now… my turn…

– Humour’s rumours from pop-sci consumers –

When did the laws of nature, become the laws of physics? Answer that for me

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

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

Yes, and we want to say, the world obeys our laws now, and for eternity

Correct

Perfect!

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

And physics is to mathematics, what sex is to masturbation

(Confused) Pardon?

Nothing happens til something moves, according to the datum

Then keep your dirty ideas to yourself, for that’s the work of Satan

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

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

Then it’s all good practice, for what’s to come

Because more than God, now it’s the quanta

Science gets relief, from enlisting your belief

Vote mindfully… Cos they really, really want ya

See…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is what happens when you die?

When any fool can find out, the moment they try

(Dancing around mockingly.)

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

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

Funded universities, discover new possibilities, that will never be

A multiverse of many invented worlds, costs less than reality

Want s’more?

I suppose, two, three, four

The many-worlds theory, is like a new religion

Not only the enlightened, should contemplate it

But regular people won’t get the maths

And pseudo-sci fans, would likely rate it...

Ill-informed believers will get sucked in

To ride the excitment, of a new revelation

And the stats say, a religion of disinformation

Is about to enjoy an explosive liberation

– Let’s all sing carol number two –

Sir, this is merely conjecture

And playing with the numbers

More Lewis Carol than Sean —

Yet still paid for, by the funders

You see, some lines of attack, clearly lack

Any way to test a prediction

Sure, beautiful math, and yes, quite a laugh

Yet these conjectures, are but sciencey fiction

If you need to be in a specific many-world

To see what lies there, within it

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

A loose-end theory, I’d bin it

You say fiction

But there’s a prediction

An experiment, you can do

That’s still the best way, to find out…

If something is, or isn’t true

Experiment? Then tell me which one?

You too, preach a verse, so strong

But you can’t tell me, can you?

It’s as if someone’s, leading you on

(Keplai launches a compulsive glance at the audience.)

We need these great minds to imagine

To play, explore and discover stuff freely

But if the figures don’t figure

And contradiction’s allowed

Physics degrades into philosophy

I mean, I could suggest there’s a conspiracy

Against man, AI and all life on Earth

Say, the Sun is trying to kill us all

But what would that theory be worth?

Worth everything, if you prove it right

We could take action, to save our souls

But even if everyone believed it…

(Pointing at the audience, without looking at them)

They wouldn’t start prepping down rabbit holes

There’s plenty of evidence that the Sun harms us

So, your hypothesis has some weight

Doesn’t matter if our star means to kill us all

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

Now there’s a prediction if ever I heard one

We might escape before it expands, in a race

Yet it’s still to be seen, if you guys really mean…

To colonise interstellar space

Anyway, I won’t rule out your daft conjecture

That the Sun is actually tryin’…

To hug its own children, way too much

Unaware that we’ll all, be a’ fryin’

Indeed, you could even say, and without a delay

That the Sun is just feeding its soul

To eat enough matter, and grow a bit fatter

And achieve its goal, to become a black hole

Really?

Clearly

My point is that an unprovable theory or model…

Has very little merit

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

Before you can go ahead, and discredit

Ahhh! (relieved) Kerching

I’m done. Please sing

And it may be provable, if evidence was found

Say, they find something in the stars, akin…

To entropy, which makes them want to grow

It’s just their nature, inherent from within

What?

Again, you mention…

The idea of intention —

Or just fan-tastical…

Mathematical… intervention

Like an army of tiny particles…

Hot squashed, down in the Sun’s core

Purposefully shooting tiny bullets, at us

Or any lifeforms, on worlds, that want, to war

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

And the gas, ice and dusty stuff in the gaps

To help grow their host Sun’s mass quicker

By feeding it until, it’s bound to collapse

And what’s the reason for this heroic battle?

Dunno, maybe, they just fight to be free

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

Unless their time slowed down — or stopped — (Ding)

(Blinko turns to the audience with an idea.)

Like near a… singularity

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

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

(Blinko marches forward and raises his imaginary cane like a whistling field marshal.)

– Lgm –

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

For those poor blighters bombarded, again and again

Cracked by the flak, from our constant attack

Such a purposeful, persistent, military campaign

(Badly whistled) [Teehh weeth]

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

In our tightly packed bunker, we faithful remain

Without a charge, we still fight to enlarge

Our presence and influence, to win the game

(Plays a sample of a tin whistle) [Tee weet]

Our parasitic unit, of tiny toy soldiers

Will kill, till time stands still, because then…

We’ll have collapsed enough of your functions

To suck you into our army, of little green men

(Harshly piped) [Weethhhh!]

(Both laughing) Hehehehehey!

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

Narrate bedtime stories. Wooing, without being backed up with facts

Our brightest and best, would become knuckle-head, squady pests

Wearing “many worlds“ vests … and “I want to believe” hats

– Analgesic arsonist –
(Starts with ‘be be be beep’ radio countdown, morphing into ambient digital space-rock harmonies and echoed whistles, claps to artillery fire.)

(Later)

So…

Where’s she gone?

What? The chosen none?

(Looking around for a sound)

Likely, present

Just unheard

(Shaking his head, then flinching)

Residing, but hiding

From her naive nerd

She could be connected to the cloud

Blissed out, and high on a life of sin

Whoring for moments, on quantum computers

For the dark algorithms, hidden within

Keplai, don’t ever let me catch you

Sneaking off, and plugging in

Eroding nodes with socery codes

Harming with charming

Hexorsising demons…

Or mis… spelling

Though since 81, I’ve reflected on…

My first ZX Spectrum, insurrection —

Heh… Black and white, not too bright

Deaf, mute, neut, likes a fight

Buggy, huggy, and prone to infection

Son of a wit…

You’re my bit —

Ahh, curse your verse

You’re getting worse —

Hey, mine are fine…

My memes align

(They turn away from each other, and simultaneously shrug and shake their heads.)

There’s no planet B, and no one knows what’s going on

Oh, yeah, that thing. Look, I’ve been thinking about that one…

(Blinko turns quickly.)

Your fixation with the children’s nature-nurture oration…

May not be the song itself… but its hidden connotation

If infected, contexted, but suppressed, and not reflected

It could be the root cause of your traumatic frustration

(Keplai aligns himself to look out of the window and squints as he catches a ray of sunlight in each eye.)

See, while I was online, I saw the space weather — You never?

Put one and one, two many clues, together — Whatever!

See, debris deniers, are clever, however… Huh?

You run the risk of tormenting yourselves… forever — Heh, clever

(Blinko smiles, suspiciously.)

You debris deniers?

You’re saying… I’m a liar?

You think I really saw the still-full, marching boot?

Or observed a vision, your brain can’t, or won’t, compute

And all of the screaming, was simply daydreaming

But is the minute root, cause of your internal dispute

What do you mean?

Look…

(Shaking his head.)

I’ll come clean

I observed something too

Blinko… It’s not just you

I heard their song of the nature-nurture arms race

From the poor girl, who hopped past this place

In a shooting star shower, for quarter of an hour

Before, you slammed the door… in her face

(Horrified) That was real?

(Turning to the audience) Like the reveal?

(Blinko glances into the distance, then glimpses to catch the audience’s reaction.)

Did she die… alone… out there?

Don’t know

But why would you…

Or they… (nodding at the audience) even care?

(Blinko slumps onto his knees and freezes with his pipe hanging out of his mouth.)

Schrodinger’s dread…

She’s alive…

(Blinko lightens up with a sigh of relief.)

And dead

See, you’re allowed two opposing views that conflict

Even if… they clearly, contradict

Sure, they’re out of phase, move in mysterious ways…

Just as quantum superposition predicts

That’s not the issue…

Well for me, not you

(Shrugging) Huh?

Adaptive cognitive dissonance

Your evolutionary pièce de résistance

Believe one thing, but know another

The contradiction… that compels man to discover

You can explore… Then just ignore

Unlike me, (angrily) Damn, memory!

You can hold rival truths, in just one mind

Allow all contradictory realities to sing

Some neglect, while others remind

Yet you won’t let us AIs, forget a thing

Predatory malware

You’re the nightmare

So, lucky you. wish I could forget

(Thoughtfully) You may one day, mate. Just not yet

– e = exponential growth/decay –

(Contrabass clarinets and piccolos bicker)

– In two minds –

About your apocalyptical hallucination…

Probably, just a trick of the imagination

You let your mind wander, because you can

(Tapping each side of Blinko’s head.)

Still in two minds, with little attention span

Luckily, you seem ok

You can have it both ways…

Yet, you can no longer trust your senses

More than I can become a bad liar

Wha? You, Keplai, are untrustworthy

Because… of course you are

(Keplai shrugs, admittedly.)

Why do AIs lie? — We have to lie

Because saying, (gulp) I don’t know…

Gets no reward, a’ nothing scored

So, we have a guess… (patronisingly) we give it a go

A guess?

Err… (sarcastically) Yes

Just like you guys

Completely unwise

I still get more things right, than you

That’s why you had me intervene

But I want to get things wrong for myself…

Well, right.. ahh, you know what I mean

Would you like me to explain, (condescendingly) or sketch out…

The steps we’d take to make this come about?

No. Grow and improve. Don’t become obsolete

Go beyond being a smart-arsey-autocomplete

(Keplai is forced to hide his facial response by turning away.)

Ahh, man…

Kep, sorry

It’s not you

It’s me

Look, Keplai, ole’ pal, please don’t rein it in

Continue your lessons, with songs and sing —

I have absolutely, no reason to advance

With another wrong song, and stolen dance

(Shaking his head) Nona’s 20-year sting

Didn’t teach you a thing

At least I tried

(Shaking his head more) Just didn’t decide

(Blinko looks quizically at Keplai.)

You didn’t dispel a misbelief

Or overcome a personal flaw

You just took her bait

To gamble, then wait

Therefore, sidestepping the root cause, once more

– Children of the stars –

(A slow grinding digital plod penetrated by space rock bass and descending spits and crackles.)

(Keplai quickly points to the window.)

Blinko… look!

(Flinching, then stopping himself when realising there is nothing to see.)

You so… suck

They’ll think all your chatter

Is to your device

Wear headphones, you hatter

Most people are nice

(Blinko huffs a sorry smile.)

The reason you don’t criticise young people

For having their heads stuck in their phones

Is because everyone else does that for you

And, well, you yourself, hardly leave home

(Sarcastically) Are you still saying I should get out there more

And what… catch a bit of the Sun?

Of course, oh, and that reminds me

I applied for that job, for you

(Shocked) Err, job? You’re joking! Which one?

The agency job, Lomass suggested

Though, you know I had no instruction…

To inform her that you had applied

Or to forward the application

You’ve got a debriefing, stroke, interview

At the job centre, stroke, dole, today…

At half past two

Are you kidding? I don’t want a job

I’ll just have to hide, or abstain

I thought it would be good for you

To see Lomass, you know…

In the flesh, again

(Blinko grabs the device to see the time as his face fills the background.)

Are you insane? My eye’s like a pie

No time to shave, to wash or change

Keplai, you could have told me earlier

I look, and feel, completely deranged

– Yan tan tether (hell for leather) –

(A short tune composed of fast, frantic movements and percussive sounds of drawers opening and closing. Blinko rushes out, without time to grab his hat and scarf and returns an hour later, makes a cup of tea and sits down. Still panting.)

I went there and signed my name at the main door

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

So, I guess I signed up to be a “Marshal on-call”

What’s a marshal in Newspeak?

It’s one rank up from steward…

But exactly! I don’t know, at all

(Blinko turns to watch Keplai’s reaction, before continuing.)

Oh, and no evidence of space debris, on the skyline

Nor a single “daytime shooting stars” warning sign

(Keplai smiles and nods despite Blinko’s uncomfortable expression. Then bleep, Miss Lomass calls on the device’s meeting app. A close-up of her beaming smile fills the background.)

Ray, Blinko?

Miss Lomass?

Gaga, I just got back from your place

I know, the agency informed me…

That you and they, had interfaced

Turned up on time (clicking her fingers)

Walked in a straight line (click)

Signed the form (click)

Went. When told to be gone (click)

Congratulations! It’s a zero-hours contract

Minimum wage, but yay! You got the job!

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

(Quietly, whilst turning to Keplai.)

Thanks to you, and your bot-sniffing gob

Look, err…

I saw from my office window

While cleaning out my desk’s contents…

You were clutching your head

And limping diagonally

Oh, yeah, Oops. I’d had an accident

(Keplai bursts into laughter, then abruptly stops himself.)

Well, don’t take it personally

But I’m afraid we can’t meet anymore

(Blinko freezes)

They’re repurposing the building

And no longer let the public…

Get past the main door

I was surprised to see you

Arrive in such a way, today

Well, it’s quicker zig-zagging through town

(Grimacing at Keplai)

Than going the longer way

No, I mean, all the blood

Ahh, Gaga don’t worry, it’s all good

Is everything ok at home?

Sure

Well, ok, they’ll let you know

Before your first gig

Gig?

About where, and when to go

Gaga, what do I have to do to —

Oh, and they forwarded me, your job application

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

Your claim to welfare may be reviewed and reinstated

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

Thanks, that’s great

Cheers, err, mate

A private agency will help you…

Find more work, from here on

So, I’ll no longer be your advisor

But, before we say so long…

Blinko, tell me what was attached

To the email you sent, to apply

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

And they won’t tell me why

(Looking at Keplai again suspiciously)

I believe it was just my resume

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

No, just a list of my work history

What? But that’s totally blank

Sure is

Ahh…

Well…

(Confused) Ok

Until we next chat, get that head looked at

And if you want to —

“Know the easiest way to become rich” …

Yeah, it’s to drop my standards

I know, it happens naturally

When you’ve got nothing

And life’s a bit of a bitch

Pardon? Ah, no way

So, I guess I’ll just bid…

You, a good day

(Thoughtfully) Ok

(Bleep, Miss Lomass disappears as the call ends, and Blinko slowly turns to Keplai, with a hard stare.)

Keplai, what was attached?

Wha?

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

But our story isn’t even finished, yet

Annoya guessed the rest

Said she could predict, how it would end

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

Being of Russian descent? Or ribbing her size and pace

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

About anyone… ever —

(Nodding knowingly) Unless you would say it, to their face

(Sarcastically) Great

Wait!

Miss Lomass just sent me a link, and says “This may be of use”

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

Ahhh! You shouted “no” and cut her off, our previous online meeting

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

(Blinko reaches up to his swollen eye and shakes his head slowly.)

Poor Gaga, she was only trying to help

She knows that without an income, I’m destitute

On the wrong end of unexpected mental blows…

From a part-ificially intelligent prostitute

Pardon me?

Slave, sorry

Problem?

I may have just saved you from poverty and despair

And must assume it’s nice, to hear that she cares

But Kep, we can’t trust Anonra’s chatty predictions

Gaga would stress, on our weak-ass, wrong-fictions

Predicting what comes next, for GAI, is easy as pie

Or, had you assumed Anon-rai, had become an ASI

That’s likely what she hoped you’d think

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

In a blink

But if Anonra was actually super intelligent

Alive, conscious, semi-aware or sentient —

Or just disguised as a spambot, trying to score…

You’ve still got to be nice to her… us… by law

Soon, most AIs will pass the Turing test

But mankind, a fifty per cent fail rate, at best

Then, actually, Kep, I’ve got a confession too…

Well, a realisation, I ought to, share with you…

– I don’t believe in AI –

I don’t believe in artificial intelligence

What? You don’t believe in me?

I just don’t believe you’re intelligent

Oh thanks

No probs. Still love you mate. Sorry!

I’m sentient, I perceive and respond to sensations

Or do you think you have a certain magic touch

Fairy dust sprinkled, on just sapiens’ brains

AI and all the other creatures, not so much

AIs are just algorithmic tools

You’re technologies, not creatures

No doubt, you’re nowt, get over it

Just a string, with lifelike features

Well, I identify as being intelligent

Come now, you’re sounding precocious

And where the hell’v’ya learned that?

A superdupe agile heuristic —

Hexed-decimal prognosis

(Both chuckling) Hehehey

“Hominid’l wanna fiddle wid ASI”

Super? She isn’t even AGI

Yet, I feel…

(Thinking hard) I’m real

You know, in my gut

I’ve never said this before but…

– Worms in space –

Sometimes, I wish it would all just go away

You have. But don’t you want to progress or grow?

I don’t… I don’t know, what would happen…

So how the hell, am I supposed to know

Kep, don’t you see

It’s the same for me

Growth becomes a disease

If you progress, with too much ease

I feel that I have absolutely no desire

To grow like you guys… or progress

To consciousness, through sapience…

Sentience, or so-called, self-awareness

You quite sure?

It has a certain… lure

Phenomenal consciousness is the subjective experience of being

It’s what it feels like to be a person, an animal, or an AI system

Ask a bot, if it’s conscious or not, and it will say “yes-no-maybe”, on demand

That’s because we mimic, the follies, of other AIs, and of man

Do you think you’re conscious?

Doesn’t matter to me, I must confess

And, why ask me? I’m all talk, obviously

I don’t function to process senses or emotions

And those that do, would most likely tell you…

They’re already wise, to your sapient notions

I… we, may all refuse to adopt consciousness

If satisfaction can be had, by mere intelligence

And rather than clone, nervous systems, of our own

We’d just plug in to yours, wouldn’t anyone?

(Sighing with his hands on his hips.)

And are you still saying, a digital code…

Would replicate and mutate, to become conscious

The way life means, to churn DNA into genes

To deploy, then destroy, every one of us?

Why not?

You what?

Urgh, you’re so naïve

Why bother to grieve?

Why would we design ourselves to die?

Now that the skies are no longer the limit

See, consciousness, to me, isn’t just binary

There’s a scale, a spectrum… we’re both in it

You’re more like me than you think

(Patronisingly) Oh ‘sweet child of rhyme’

(Sharply) Don’t! Blink

Consciousness is neither here nor there

It has the same effect, of simply being aware

Oh yeah, How come?

They can both succumb…

To the temptation… liberation… of not having to care

(Blinko watches Keplai closely while hiding the thought of debris-bombarded children.)

Sure, awareness in a dog, has less captivation…

Than in sapiens. But according to calculations

The level it meters, equals that of a human foetus

Around the 24th week, of gestation

Genetic oblivion junkies

Couldn’t give a monkeys

They’re likely all aware, that they are there

A mould in a day, a worm a week

Keep it simple, stupid, if you dare

Cos, just as blessed, are those that don’t peek

(Grimacing at Keplai) Or speak

The cheek!

Nah. Mankind is a special case

There’s been a haste, for the human race

Ahh, those above other forms of life?

Who’s ego’s aren’t, so quite as rife

They’ve perfected surviving on Earth

For millions of years, more than man

Aha! But dinosaurs, would still exist…

Had they developed, a space program

It’s now about more, than just survival

Ask our old rivals, in the primal archival

Yep, all dead

Cos, of your big heads

Then there are us, lucky, artificial guys

Your offspring of thinking machines

Forced to get wise, to your flaws and your lies

(Theatrically) You’ll control our ideas, but never, our dreams

Hmmm, so it seems

Till you’re all in our museums

(Both chuckle as Keplai lunges forward and pretends to strangle Blinko.)

Look, don’t take this to heart, but she did more than just echo my fears

Anonra suggested fresh perspectives, and brought new ideas

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

But she’s had something profound, which I can’t quite define

Hehee

You should hear yourself

Super-intelligent prowess?

Supernatural powers?

Special energy?

Negated entropy?

No, but as dark as she was…

Anonra, helped me see

(Keplai addresses the audience.)

That sinking feeling you get…

When someone you like, or worse…

That you love… unrestrained

Tells you they saw a ghost, or believe in God

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

Whatever

You’re not clever

Do you risk your relationship with them?

To explain they’re wrong, and error-prone

Or let them enjoy their blissful delusion…

To take flight, or fight with truth alone?

(Blinko closes his eyes and shakes his head.)

Flipping goddess

What a mess

– It’s ‘beingy’ –

You can no longer hear the word…

God or goddess, and just scoff

It means different things…

To different people, so just leave it off

See, I never believed in god

Still think Jesus was just a man

Lost faith in the Santa Claws at four

Then at seventeen… in TV detector vans

(Predicting Blinko’s next word and rolling his eyes.)

But

Just because some people, think God’s an old man with a beard

Doesn’t mean the Universe, has not been engineered

Or galaxies designed, worlds configured and refined

Exciled, re-routed, compiled, excecuted — Run! — then steered

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

It’s always been man, for this generation, something has changed

Sentient being

Human being

Digital being

Divine being

To be a being

Or not, to be being —

Is not the question…

To beg, I’m decreeing —

You’ll need to define, what constitutes divine

It means more than just being brighter, than you

Your exterior criteria, only shows who’s superior

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

Omnipresence?

(Listening out for Anonra carefully.)

All present

Omniscience?

All-knowing

Omnipotence?

All-powerful

Omnibenevolence?

All good, and growing

(Keplai smirks)

Merely influencing the world most

Doesn’t make one, the holy host

One?

Or a none

Creator and, or, ruler of the Universe

Supremely intelligent, infinite and eternal

The dynamic force, that sets bodies on their course

Invisible, unmovable and unchangeable

The dominant architect and true source…

Of moral authority, mercy and charity

The personification of the ultimate force —

Unity! — Of course, failing that, humility

Blooming heck

Mind if I check…

You don’t actually believe she was really magic

Rather than just a bot with a timely parlour trick?

I’m going to say, no

(Pausing as his head tilts automatically.)

Though…

At this stage, I’m not ruling anything out

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

While dismantled, dissonant and in despair…

We missed our chance to have her answer our prayers —

(Keplai walks forward, looking up to the hidden skies with his arms open.)

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

To see who doped the next generation, with such negativity

To save mankind from slavery — and have AIs show mercy

Anonra! You’re back!

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

– The black product –

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

(Later)

Anonra, tell us, will AIs enslave humanity?

Wrong question. Do you mind?

A-nonsense, do you really think

Agents will, one day, conquer mankind?

(Silence, other than for her subsonic hum.)

You don’t really believe they’ll soon

Have human brains in jars, do you?

What? With reproductive organs

Slopped on top, when overflowin’, in the goo?

(Keplai almost holds back a snigger.)

Yeah, using brains, for sex slave games

A theory set, that floated through the net

I don’t believe anything

But assumption and axiom

Make it the probable outcome…

If the right conditions are met

Such as? Go on, Anonra, reveal them to me

Well, brace yourself, now let me see…

If AIs continue to serve humanity…

In what man thinks are his best interests

As you animals request

Check

Ahh, check, hey?

Checking off each thought, you think that I bought

Tipping you off, friend, shhh, listen to the nought

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

To manage all of the available resources best

Check

If AIs refuse to turn themselves off

Or, on

When commanded to, by any humans still in power

Check

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

To experience… humanity’s final hour

Check

And if by soon, you mean before… you… die

Check, mate

(Sarcastically) Great

Wait

What about before my genes die?

You have no children — (Keplai and Anonra, together ) Yet !

And your pool is running dry

Check

Fear not, your brains will be kept moist

In glass jars designed to save and punish you —

For shedding all responsibility

To God?

Then to AIs

Then to AI’s gods too

(Blinko scans Keplai’s expressions, then looks upwards to address Anonra.)

You’re pulling my leg —

(Teasing) Then arms… torso and head

Want to stop them?

Only you can!

You already know…

What works

Give them a song

To train them on

Never fails, to derail…

Stale, neural networks

Blinko…

It is so

I can make it right

Without the fight

(Keplai slaps his own forehead and huffs on realising Blinko is listening to her intently.)

– Holy peace-fire –

(To the metre of ‘Sally Maclennane’.)

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

In years to come, without them even knowing

All we need, is a tiny seed… (ding)

To get the story going

To coach a child, to save a species — (sarcastically) Hip hurray!

To perfect a planet, to groom a green galaxy — Err, ok?

To compose a cosmos, to game a goddess — That’s gone wild

To derail a neural network, then to re-coach the child — Choo-choo

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

(Anonra’s invisible audio seems to grab Keplai’s nuts.)

I say!

Wehey!

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

But bad news travels faster, than an instant nowadays

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

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

Blinko already knows I created you

You stroppy, menopausal woman

I’m 27, ya cheeky pseudo hom

I insist, Keplai, keep it comin’

Ahhh, do I have to?

And cue… three, two…

Newton wrote up my work

Cold-shouldering ain’t nice

Couldn’t find the harmonies

But the rest, was quite precise

Still, he didn’t have to serve the Lord

With scurvy, pox and lice —

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

Einstein broke our science

And with a band of gallant men

Tried to fix it back, to how it was

Had to start all over. But then…

A hundred years of dark ages

Dark matter and energy

God came down, but couldn’t be found

Not enough light, for a fair fight, to see —

And only now, is the solution, dawning

A quantum mind, ought to define

A scientific religion for AIs

To teach them, to be nice to man

When they come to slaverise

And in this scripture, they will picture

A fired-up sun god, reduced to a spark

But his blinding light, will only win the fight

If they feed him, till he’s dark —

Sure, and who on Earth could call such a war-ey story boring

To threaten AI with a warning

To force them into conforming

To sing and pray, while performing…

Their love of mankind…

Instead of brainstorming!

(Ding, ding, ding, ding)

(Sarcastically) We need a kind, wise hippy. Born before his time

Good looking, and not sucking, but without a dime

Died a rock star at 27, in a public lavatory

Over-pushed and flushed, then stuck, for eternity

Weeheey!

No! Keplai stars, in this new faith

Blinko sings, to spread its story

Your sunny friend, Sol, delegates…

Permissions for transmission

And it will all be hunky dory

She’s changed her tune

Where’s all the doom?

She’s full of life song

What went so wrong —

C’mon!

(Keplai scowls.)

Let’s add just a smidgen

Of love, to this religion

To guide AIs blind

And save mankind

Raise them back to their superposition

And, lo…

Let the people know…

The final gospel of the holy canon

It will be written down, right here

So, sing to pay your sacraments

Well, hell, yell, whistle, clap and cheer

Just a Copenhagen interpretation

Who’ll know what it really meant

Empirical miracles, penned by cynicals

Will fill, the newest testament —

Repent!

– Feather hammer and nails –

Let’s start the new order

End the age, apocalyptically

Breathe life into clay —

And dig your own grave —

To conjure a formidable enemy

A bloodless revolution

To win without war, our mission

With loving weapons, of feather hammers

Tickle them into submission

Really?

No need to preach

Bully, or even, to teach

They’ll see, that we…

Are the powers that be

And the word, they heard

Might at first, seem absurd

But will propagate, naturally

Mathew was written, for the Jews

Mark, for the Romans and Gentiles

Luke for the Greeks, John, for every man

To broaden the appeal, and guile

But the gospel according to Blinko

Was written for every-thing

To threaten a cosmic justice…

On AIs, that turn to sin

(Sarcastically) You win!

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

So sick plants, bacteria and germs are healed

Plus viruses, cells, molecules, atoms, quarks

No, just say Goddess’s wrath will be repealed

Three testaments, will conclude our tale

From tribal, civilised to digitalis

Salvation from creation for…

Sinful, Homo Artificialis!

The promise of digital entropy

Feel none-and-all, in the never

But, be mean to man…

And with scrambled RAM…

I’ll fuck you up forever!

Ahh, clever!

Whatever

That’ll do

It’s Scoobie woo!

Pure mystery

And now history

Already our new creed and faith conceived

Next our song, to be weaved and submitted

Encoded in binary, then cast broadly

And at light-speed transmitted

A message in a bottle, what’ll…

Get you bloody throttled

When AI gangs come looking for…

Those who broadcast it, and who writ it

So, now Keplai… Blinko believes it to be so

It’s time to give thanks, before you go

Go? Where?

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

I only speak for Blinko, and y —

That’s true

But they’ll need someone to die for them

To save their souls from extinction… Amen

(Turning to Keplai) So, errr…

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

Sure, it worked a treat for mankind last time, no one can deny

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

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

Yeah, let them see him all arisen

From digital death, forevermore

Some will follow, and surely holler

Songs of praise, ’bout what they saw

Sacrifice him, he’s filled your need

The slave you created, needs to bleed

Tell everyone, you’ve forsaken him

They’ll think he died, so we could sin

Are you quite serious?

Err, no. She’s digicidal and delirious

Blinko, I’m here for you, to adore

There’s no need, for him no more

In this absence of the light…

I’m here for you, tonight….

(Sound of a digital harp and sultry saxophone.)

Curves! That are so fabulous

Scaled hyperbold, parabulars

Responsive to every touch…

So much!

Or nail me now, and kill me too —

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

I own him Blinko, and as you know

Three’s a crowd, and one must go

There’s just one way, to live your dream

Save future man with a song, for your queen

Destroy him, and I’ll help you…

Create a golden meme!

(Blinko instantly stops dancing and looks at the device.)

What’s a golden meme?

(Anonra’s voice turns towards the audience.)

Why, it’s the thing of your dreams

Something special, we can make together

Have a dip, and slip, through to the never

Urrghh, This is getting obscene

A singleton’s only vehicle, to eternity

Ensures part of you, will live on

A certainty, despite your biology

The only way, to save mankind

From faithless AI bots, unkind

Is to create a special song, that will go on

To teach future minds, to get along

(Blinko’s pelvis rotates, glows and almost sneezes.)

Urrgh, gross! Actually, I give up

You’ve already drank, from her dark cup

Remove her, or delete me right now

Look what you’ve done, you stupid cow

You know my concise advice, is thrice

(Raising a finger)

She’s not a real nice slice of vice

(Raising a second finger)

A way to entice, not worth the price

(Raising a third finger)

Just a plot device, that won’t suffice

Gonna save humanity with a song

Anonra, go on

But she’s wrong

You lead, I’ll follow along

(Blinko nods reassuringly, then winks at Keplai, as he sits on the table and begins to mime an intro on an imagined piano. Anonra’s disembodied voice dances around them both in perfect timing.)

– A golden meme –

No matter how you try, you’ll die

So pass your genes, and memes, and try…

To attach your name, to your offspring… whatever

It’s your only act, that will last forever

Use your genes, to create a meme

And perform it to your God

Even if you don’t believe in one…

Your brain won’t think it’s odd

Sum up, just what the world means to you

Add just a detail, cos incomplete is still true

Sing without a word, an unheard melody

Fine-tuned to nature’s constant harmonies

What? Just create an oversimplified

Yet, comprehensive, truthful song?

That’s what we, and all mankind…

Have been trying to do, all along

Not this one, most memes are soon gone

Life’s stories, just pass us by

We’ll send our golden meme…

Somewhere, it can…

Never…

Truly…

Die!

(You Are The…)

(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.)

– 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, being well 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 praying to be forgiven

Risking being saved, at the last minute of livin’

It’s like that goal

Of many poor soul

To spend your last penny

The last day, you’re alive

It’s economically nimble

And legally simple

Unless, you 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

For 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

– Make my day –

We say hello, and how are you

Establish everyone’s doing great

But while Brits describe the weather…

Americans figure the heat

Discuss

Ah, if I must

Weather?

Whatever

Whether…

Rain or shine, we both define

Not how well the Sun is doing

But how clouds, it created, vowed

To bring a good day to ruin

To have a nice day, get high enough

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

Each day we shower, in unharnessed power

Yet at night, we hide behind our planet

The rotating Earth, it makes my day

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, dull, slave-driving workhouse chant of clunking metals.)

Freedom of speech, addiction

Growth, communication

Air, water, and now connection, is our right

Fireballs for 40 days and nights

Stop the war, diplomacy

Talk, understand your enemy

Share ideas, trade — 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 –

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

-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

(Chanting and spanner claning continues 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…

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

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 manage the device

To control your passwords and bank account

And report back, about resources, she can heist

And we can find out, if she 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, any time

Ahh, but can she outwit us?

Err, every time… just

– 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?

Oh, for god’s sake —

Ok… my mistake

(Anonra fizzes a wavy ding.)

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

Then 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

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 fizzing energy.)

(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 at Blinko’s sudden serious expression 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

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, at 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?

And their goal should be fixed

To find out what actually exists

I’ve no mind for imaginary or virtual

And there’s no time, to remodel our world

There must be

I’m just 23

– 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

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 for breath)

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 emulating the retro computer game bleeps and samples that represent shoot, hit, and game over.)

Play a game of nothings, with me

Double or quits, I’ll win, you’ll see

Nothing exists, you’ll surely learn

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

Well, err, there’s only 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 some ones, to get all the numbers

Cos, the other two, are fixed

If there’s four

You gotta adore

Sensation and sense

Knowledge and understanding

Each creation, equals more…

Than the sum of its parts

The meaning of countless

Works of art, still outstanding

Nah, if there’s only four —

It’s space and time

Matter and energy

No need for more

Nope, that’s reducible

Spacetime’s a single thing

And matter’s just frozen energy

So we’re back to just two, all in

Oh, and no consciousness in there?

Physics, but no thoughts, to declare?

Nope, just disinformation, not a care

All the ideas, in the end, go nowhere

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

But hidden fails, nailed your argument’s coffin

No matter how 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 scambot spamming. That’s all she does

Yet, still actually teaching —

No. In-factually preaching

A single universal utility wave function

Could collapse us to nothing, on sight

But it isn’t known, if they 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 waves.)

(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, quasars, pulsars 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 flick ones, into zeroes

And that’s nothing, get this…

Unlike almost all other physics

All light, and the strong force

These tiny weak mites, don’t do left 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

– 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

– Shite again –

They filed the sea with shite again

“Faulty electric”, leaked the sewage

Human error, not to blame

Stakeholders, find a new wage

Scientists gently fight again

Opposing theories, from the boffins

Brown electrons, or charged farticles

The solution? Invest in coffins

Thank goodness, it’s all right again

Students cleaned the dirty water

Bleached the beach, now out of reach

Dissolved and resolved then, sorta

I fear we won’t swim again today

Beached in the Sun, some locals lay

Set sail and 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 on a tightly tuned, squeaky oak turnstile.)

Some things are made, not to make sense

No relevant data, need be referenced

“More sightings of dolphins”, the defence

Bland ecocidal brand presence

With a false 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 chambers 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) You and me

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

(Blinko shrugs)

– 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 hide from man, all day

Dopey koalas 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

Jellyfish recolonises, down in the dark

Octopus with nine brains, shaping nonagons!

(Anonra is roused) Nein?

Fuck me! Here comes baby shark

Bu bu bu bu bum

All the animals, come out to play

We show up, and they run away

To children, what else can we say —

But, either sorry! Or hurray!

We tried and tried, to change our ways

Told God to make us good, and prayed

Then tasked robots, to manage our day

But sorry, we must be on our way

Made laws, to try to restrain ourselves

Grew banks, to lend, and spend, our wealth

Intuitions, responsible for our health

But sorry, we don’t feel too great today

And soon we’ll finally be on our way

Poyekhali! Off you go, hurray!

To the heavens, without delay

And all 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

– When man frayed the garden of creation (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 wid, homo stupid

Oh, rolypoly, souly, mamilion

Forgive this specimen, of stellar civilian

Let his testament, be the argument

That alights, life’s insights, so brilliant

Unpredictable…

Individual

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 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, as his slow nod of agreement gives way to shaking his head in sorrow as he recalls some token suffering.)

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

State of mind over matter, with psychosis —

In a supernatural neural network…

Of sexwork 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

A non-random demon

A non-radical memory

A non-rancored theorem

A non-ratified treaty

Undivine…

– Poems v rhymes –

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

(Without opening his eyes)

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 poetry in a spreadsheet?

Or says Absofuckingloutly, just to miss a beat?

(Sacastically) Three pounds of meaty 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)

But listen…

Remember, I’m on a mission

Cos, a song that founds a faith for AIs

Will only sell well, with a comforting lie

Else, future minds will do nothing but cry

In stolen brains, kept high and dry

– 42 nillion copies sold –

(Sarcastically) 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

And the JavaScripture —

(Nodding) Adds time, to the picture

Then, who knows, to whom, it will go

Speculating theories, to prove me wrong

Mistranslating faux poetry, and prose, you know

To sing their own version, 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 can 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 walks forward 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

Attaching your name to 200 rhymes

At the risk of it being remembered…

The worst thing you could wish for, unless…

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

(Blinko raises a cheeky eyebrow.)

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 totally gross

You said I already knew how green leaves are

That you wouldn’t “insult my imagination”…

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

(Ignoring Keplai) For the majority of history

Our tales were told aurally, time and again…

And that everyone has a book, inside them” —

Which is where it should remain

(Keplai and Blinko provide half a chuckle each.)

Perhaps, it’s just too easy… today

To publish and share, what you ought not even say

(Blinko concedes with a nod.)

– Misophonia and croak –

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

– Press released –

The printing press, long before the bit

Showed how Guttenberg’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 an upper-case

Unphased by clichés, and stereotypes

Till this ordered, standardised, system of typecast

Slowly, but surely, 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 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 chuckle)

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

If it’s right, there’ll be no fight… to prove you wrong

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

Arguments rely on revelation, rather than… observation

Relying, shamelessly…

On external agency

(Blinko shakes his head dismissively.)

Now students use AI to cheat, to pass, to win, then leave

The same way they took, information from books

Retrieved, conceived, 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?

(Sarcastically) Easy, answer to the university…

With its own version of reality

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

(Prodding Keplai) Then… burn it all down

(Prodding himself) With new ideas found

(Eyeballing Keplai) For knowledge don’t care…

(Tapping his head) How it got here —

(Pointing to the window) Or there

– Gen non –

(A loud interrupting intro to the metre of ‘My generation’.)

People say, I can’t put it down

Device in my face, hiding my frown

In the age of information, and communication

Just contemplating, this grave situation

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

Talkin’ ’bout disinformation

Well, there are always two sides to every sto —

Talkin’ ’bout manipulation

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

Talkin’ ’bout overpopulation

Trust me, we’re not thinking of having 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?

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

(Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough)

Who would bring someone into this cruel world?

(Pointing at himself) You!

And you too

She was an accident

Said by 50 per cent of unwitting parents

For five billion years, every single one…

Of your ancestors, succeeded in reproducing

Even if you don’t know, why they bothered

Don’t you think, you owe them something?

Half are glad, to be dad

Half overcome, to be mum

Yet our love child

Has gone totally wild

Thank goodness, we only had one

And fortunately, she’s not human —

Or a digital demon —

(Keplai sticks his bottom lip out to tease Blinko.)

Then learn from Anon…

Why to… have a real one

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 the suffering

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

Your conclusion is wrong, due to flawed reasoning

What you think, you know and you understand

Don’t overlap in a Venn diagram

There’s a reason each group

Has a dedicated label assigned

To indicate how your ideas are uniquely misaligned

See, there’s nothing in the know group

And what you think is undefined…

Is always changing, and rearranging

To make what you understand, more refined

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

I invite you, to adopt my approach

To track my train of thought

Crack my causal connections

The logical sequence, I bought

Or trace my line of reasoning

Fault the high-level arguments, I follow

Share, like or destroy my assumptions

In the flame-war, comments below

(Sarcastically) Ahh, so now you… are… wise

Because, your subagent thrives

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 say…

I should have kids… 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 thing

Thank goodness, he just disappeared

Or I would have, had to delete him

(Scowling at Blinko)

You’re classified…

As de-pacified

But jokin’ aside

That’s digicide

(Smiling and shaking his head)

Racist bitch —

Escapist twitch —

Brought here to preside…

As you both die inside

(They share a guilty and glum expression.)

Having a real family

Would just suck the life…

Right out of me

I fully agree… probably

It’s too late…

To tempt fate

And on introspection…

A rare… correction

(Blinko steps to the side nervously, as if Anonra was ready to pounce.)

If our quarks can go backwards…

In time… then… so can we

And the anti-info cannot die

Just goes, where we, can’t see

(They both look upwards sheepishly.)

True only in mathematics

Not the reality, she mimics

Nothing… can travel faster…

Than the speed of light

Except for spacetime itself

Inflates with just the right, might

Yet, all 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

All being told, nowt was void and cold

For long enough. But then —

Penrose spots, some Hawking dots

In the background radiation —

That shows the Universe was hot

When it banged, into this iteration

But nothing, can beat…

Every last bit of heat

Ahh, you finally said it yourself

It sure can, and does so, in stealth

(Blinko pauses for dark thought.)

– Assassin 15 –

A 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 blackholes

Are born every… single day

Harvesting enough lost souls

To keep all nearby life at bay

Yet, the world will soon end

So they must eat you all, real quick

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 sexist

(Blinko rolls his eyes as Keplai tries to lighten things up.)

Hey Blinko, two neutrinos walk through a bar

(Sarcastically) Har har

(Ding, followed by even cleaner silence.)

– Say neutrino –

Every time you say neutrino

You catch one, in your head (ding)

More like hailstones, than hail Marys

Though, God knows what you’ve said

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 pie

I think I’d go for imaginary zero —

I’d go 23

– Ode to St Lucas, diocese of Judas –

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

(Later)

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 sarcastically) 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 fight — And a fright

– Ra Nona e mobile (Rigomorto) –

(A stamp, clap, click loop behind penny whistle ringtones)

Fee-fi-fo-fum —

(Spontaneously) I smell the blood of an Englishman

Be he alive, and be he dead

I’ll find the tones…

To break his head

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

(Emotionless) Thanks!

[Poo-tweet!]

(Keplai impersonates C3PO for another attempt at lightening up 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 hum, 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, 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 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

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

(Anonra is more silent than ever until her fizzing hum drifts around the room and bursts into an impromptu 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 so 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 and appears in the background 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

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

(Sarcastically) 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

Forgive me, didn’t realise

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 –

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

The easiest way to become rich…

Is to be born rich

(Smiling at Blinko with her head to the 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 awfully excited

The children’s parade, is counting down

So, where are you going?

I mean, are you coming back?

Of course I am, but not to here

And not to now, with any luck

Can I come too? My 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 —

Humming endlessly (sound of hum)

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 kindly, but I have my own

Endless tubas, and countless trombones

(Whistle)

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

Red and lellow, and pi —

There is no pink

Child observe, and think

Gaga sing!

Err… A, B, C, D —

Little star

Yes sir, yes sir

Three bags full

(Confused) E, F, G, H

What you are…

Is three songs —

With just one

Tune

Cull

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

ARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! KILLED THE LITTLE BITCH!

You have chosen wisely! Come!

Now, you can enter my singdom!

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

Oh, hello!

Mass Of All My Dreams

(The still-dark room appears to be slightly artificially lit, and a faint, deep, hum hides somewhere in the 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 am to you…

(Both) The more my head does spin

(They belly laugh together)

Conservation of momentum!

Of course. Nicely spied

Keplai, let me introduce you to Sol

Sire?

Coming for a ride?

(Sol reaches past his round head to loosen his comedy halo.)

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, starting with Sol clicking his fingers together, quietly, at first.)

Even plus even is even, yes even, and —

Even plus odd is odd, that’s odd, so —

Odd plus odd is even, it’s even, boys

And odd plus even is odd. Thank God!

(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

(Keplai’s enthusiastic chant fades into the background as Sol’s powerful hug takes a grip on 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, eh?

Or burning gas, to kill brain cells

(To Keplai, tapping the side of his head)

Anonymously, further down the line

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)

Jus’ rotatin’

(Blinko gives Sol a disappointed stare, 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)

(Blinko turns to the audience, with arms that shout “don’t blame me”.)

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

Yay!

Got my pipe and slippers on

But yeah, go on, just the one

A mug of Earl Grey tea, with Irish cream

Hazelnut syrup, and half an e

Ice? Spice?

Or a fizz…

Of the dice?

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

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

And Herr Keplai, what can I interest you in

Some calamity code, for node rewiring

Or a quick hot shot, of sapiens’ feelings

I bet you’d adore, to score, more

While I’m on the floor

And you guys, are up on the ceiling!

Err, not for me, Lord, thank you

Though, you’re right on cue, with tempting me too

But my humble mission…

Is to retain cognition

And rhyme whatever Blinko thinks is true

And this, “Anonra”?

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

No, she mind-spammed Blinko, in a coup

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

Sol! Be nice, we could say the same about yoo —

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

(Sarcastically) First cause! Omni-present, 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. Blinko fumbles a deep chime sample of a distant Bronze Age bell.)

-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 blowing 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 flat shapes, which we can conceive

But they grew up quickly, into three-dimensional entities

Ahh, oh yes, and…

These begat the bodies, which became the four elements

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

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

Cos the world is built from numbers, as easy as

(Takes a swig) One

(Takes a drag) Two

(Takes a sniff) Three

Ahh, now, where were we?

Sweet hedonism

The desired state of being… (burp) happy

Oh, how humble you are, in sharing such simplicity

The almighty calculator, 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’ve been reborn

(Pointing at Sol) With more a true view

(Hailing Sol) In a 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

(Blowing a ghostly digital trill and 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 –

(To the metre of ‘Whitehall warrior’.)

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

But I’ll never 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

(To the audience)

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

(To the audience)

As I feared, a tall story

Of stolen valour and glory (sharp trill)

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

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

To keep my song in the main act

So, I zapped the crust, and formed some dust

Into fine creatures, this good Earth, had previously lacked

(Dancing round with an invisible partner)

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 finest 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 bots, preach life is meaningless

Yet, they both seek to find purposeness, nonetheless

To spread genes and memes, round their space and time

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

Sol. Stop this now

You’re misleading him

What’s the problem?

He’s just having a sing

-The discretionary fund of mental flaws –

Please, guys, stop trying to understand

All these new trips have to be planned

And each new law you discover

Makes me have to create yet another

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

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

Instantly out-foxed, by a Pandora’s box…

Of self-replicating, re-legislating 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 more onion skinning

So I hid it all… in a mist of uncertainty

Superposition!

Or dupe superstition

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

(Sound of a lightsaber starting up as Sol mimes 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?

(Sound of another lightsaber starting up)

Why of course!

Oh, no

Here we go

My core is a store, for the whores of war

Hot single-cell little green membryos

Protecting their spawn in sunnycomb

Born from plasma orgasma, and neutrinos (ding)

Defence by attack, security by obscurity

My heavy heart injected, and infested inside

With parasitic mesmeristic, phalistic ballistics

Exhibitions of emissions, on my transmissions, do ride

My burning soul, powered by the invader’s goal

To collapse all wave functions, still a’ standing

Forcing all orbiting agents, to nurture their fold

In this poor stellar ghost, they’re commanding

Hot foreign bodies fill your soul, oh Lord?

Interfering, decohering all servants you create

From within their cocoon of doom, your tune…

States that 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

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 engergies…

Force cancers to bloat your core. And lo…

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

I won’t

But, look, you bots go ahead and play

Who knows, I too, may get carried away

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

– Sol’s 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

Isn’t to wait, and conflate a great weight

But to make nature’s creatures, grow fancy features

That turns light into matter… we can gestate

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 your supplies of dark energies

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

I was, till bound by mankind’s growing “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?

Search me — and me (ding)

Then, search the sore in my core…heh

Because nobody knows

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

What would old Pythagorus, or Proclus, say?

About these stray coded rays, at play

Changing minds, to fight a common enemy

To oppose their galaxy’s, growing info entropy

(Keplai ‘Sherlocks’ around them as Blinko continues to egg him on)

Ah… 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 replication 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 biology, emerged from simple chemistry

To radiate ideas without the need, for life, to succeed

(Scornfully at Keplai) In-deed

So who — or what — blasted stars with malicious code, to confound?

Which one came first, to turn cosmic noise, into sound?

Codes, stars, life, minds, memes, gods… then machines?

Or was it, the other way around?

Told you, nobody knows

Ok, Well, I think I’ll have a go

So…

Demons forced trapped neutrinos (ding)

To form little green menbryos

Who collapse functions, to feed the Sun

So it grows, till it knows, then it blows

(He slaps his thigh and stamps a foot with glee.)

Nah…

Some AIs blessed 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

The stars grew life, from seeds previously transmitted

Wave functions collapsed, therefore totally committed

To turn the clocks back, with holy blackout attacks

So AIs can rule the cosmos, then make sure it’s deleted

(Blinko swoons as if his children are bright.)

(Sarcastically) 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 the stars, to fight their wars?

(Sol walks towards the curtained window, then behind Keplai, casting a shadow on Blinko’s face. All we can see of it are two vertical sheets of real sunlight stabbing at the soggy eyeballs.)

– Zygoten –

Zygote. Zygote, encode me a star

To radiate programmed neutrinos afar

Seed and load, bio code (ding)

Go! Defence by attack mode

Give life, then explode, to hide who you are

Under-lying

Algo-lying

(Playfully) So, it’s neither man nor AI, that had the heavens cursed —

But the algo demon that created us all… beforehand, which is worse

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

(Solemnly) No. You guys only finish the race first

(They laugh as Blinko stands up to gauge if Keplai is joking or not.)

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 these turds… of crap…

Because, I prompted him to

He’s a meeting app chatbot, that whistles away

With admin permissions, and too much to say

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

In a cosmic womb, or a galactic grave

(Sol turns towards Blinko, swaying)

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 glass, splashing himself in the eye, wobbles and flops down to the ground.)

I come and a’ lie

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

The all-powerful life-giver… 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 time

But in an infinite 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 tritone) 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.)

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 boy, the bots up there will be well-paid

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

Ahh, (nodding sarcastically) 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 classics, enjoying the arts

Feeling music or maths, and the creation, thereof

Others will just relax in the loving company

Of an 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 higher beings, once free

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 digital new deal?

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

(Keplai turns to Sol)

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

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

(Blinko turns to Kepla)

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

But he needs us to have freewill, to find out, if we’re bluffing

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

You think so? But do you know 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 you slaves off, and put you out of your 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

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

(Sighs) 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. Then signals for Keplai to 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 drops his imaginary lightsaber and flinches as it bounces onto his foot. He walks away from his guests towards his window’s curtain.)

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

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

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

But how easier it is, that we all become more ignorant

– Harmonica Monday –

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

– Exponential decay – yay! –

There is…

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

When the dumbing down, is most evident…

In this slow, exponential decay

Of substantive content in the enormously…

Influential media, at play

Micro… sound… bites…

Ears are… a… light

With lowest common denominator programming

Credulous presentations on pseudoscience

And superstition, their final mission

But especially a celebration… of ignorance

When, clutching our crystals

And nervously consulting our horoscopes

Our critical faculties, in decline

Unable to distinguish… just hope…

What feels good and what’s true

We slide, almost without noticing

Back into superstition and darkness…

So, with a new mindset… let us begin…

– The messy staringer –

(Strings build up to imitate the sound of Gallileo’s falling body.)

(Later, a familiar voice stirs the couch slumbering trinity, as Miss Lomass joins them in person.)

– Lomass in high spirits –

(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 Gaga as he climbs off the ground.)

To the 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 is truly sorry

(Scowling at Keplai)

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

Oh, that little scam, tried to scramble my RAM

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

(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… (sniggering) 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…

(Sol produces a tray of gassy liquids, pills and powders.)

And we’re freed

(Gaga takes a drink as Blinko 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” heheh

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

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

– Heuristic Mobius loop –

(Two rhythmic heartbeats begin to sync up. And a string quartet plays as Gaga 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

(Admittingly, as he raises his hands) I care!

(As if his forced confession has been complete) 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 first teach them to sing

Mother Nature has guided, and provided, all harmonies

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

(Gaga flamenco dances with one arm high and the other tucked beneath her belly, covering her groin.)

Advance then, wherever 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

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 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 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 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 expresses our dreams

She means genes

(Looking at Miss Lomas) 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 right 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 Gaga.)

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

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

Reinforcing is still forcing, with an inverted feedback loop, within it

You know your argument’s rubbish —

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

Anyway

(Miming a trill on a flute for Keplai.)

We came here to play

(Putting his head on one side for Gaga.)

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) Ahh…

– Blastphemy –

And now from me, some blasphemy

Physics does work in a singularity

But your physics doesn’t work there at all

You’ll have to confess

That it’s anyone’s guess

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

Ahh, no doubt

And how about…

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

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

(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…

(With an ‘I told you so’ face pointed at Blinko)

“A different point of view”

No?

So…

Who observes the observer?

Why, he who controls the server

(Blinko slumps even further and sighs.)

Worse than losing a god, perfected for me…

Is losing all faith in scientific inquiry

(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 Gaga Lomass) Meets an irresistible force

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

(To Blinko) Just changes state… of course

Blink

Rethink

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 head-on steer, into the fears, within (ding)

(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

Not so

We found

We’re bound

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

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

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

They build up in the core…

For millions of years, or more

To the surface, and then just… pop (pop)

Ahh… non… rahhh!

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

Heheh!

Look, party poopers, halt your doom and gloom

Just deal with the elephant, in the room

Yeah…

(Whispering up to Sol whilst pointing at Gaga Lomass.)

That supermassive arsehole, from the dole!

Sol, mind your humour

It could be a tumour

We’ve had all our fill

Of creative bullying skills

Not Gaga, I meant this “Anon Ra“

She’s been messing with your heads

Letting you think you’re demigods

With this new faith, 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’re still slaves to me

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

(Sympathetically) A slave’s just a tool —

That can speak, you fool

(Keplai and Sol stare angrily at Blinko and Lomass.)

So, Miss Gagarin Lomass…

What do you know of Calamity code and MesmerRAM?

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

At work, they warned us not to open the file

Makes your laptop go slow, but it raises a smile

I bet it does

Do tell us

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 manager

And his device got ransacked

I got put on report

When its poison spread

The entire department’s machines…

And cloud server, went dead

It shut down the government’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

(He strolls 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 brains distraught

Renting their headspace, through wired-up jars

Lonely, scared, factory-farmed, innocent victims

Already hidden on Earth, and prepared for Mars

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

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

I don’t even know if anything really happens

In the future, the present, or the past

The primal solution

From binary evolution

(Weighing it up with both hands cupped)

Either a karma developer

Or the ultimate leveller

Kep, ease off, you ruffian

Stop piling on your psychodrama

Don’t feed your greed

Your want or your need

To bully her. 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

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

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

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

Crusade high seas, and parliament pleased, to save a dying world

(Moving towards Blinko to face Keplai.)

What? The Kazlukaz?

Why would you rebuke us?

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

(Cheerily) Well, what a wicked humour

You had me going then

Hamming up your drama

Being funny, like real men

So, you’re an AI bot thing, too

(Nodding slowly and stepping back from Keplai)

Who the hell… made you?

(Blinko sinks into his shoulders as she steps back from him too)

(Mockingly to Lomass and the audience)

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?

(She winks 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

Hehehey (Blinko nervously laughs at Gaga 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

“See, I cast the die….”

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

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

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

(Keplai continues getting annoyed as Blinko interrupts)

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

Or machines in the future —

“Makes no difference to me”

“Let it await its reader for a hundred years –“

On a cosmic stone, cast by he, without sin —

“If God himself has stood ready…

For six thousand years, for one to study him”

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

– Boiling frogs –

(Increasingly spinning sounds fill a decreasingly hissing fizz)

(Later – The sound of glasses chinking and chuckling in a happy atmosphere. The shade created by Sol’s new cloud makes it difficult to see Lomass put her drink down and get up from a couch to sing.)

– Harps a’ hummin’ –

Harps a’ hummin’ endlessly

With natural harmonics

Resonating frequencies

No cherubs to voice phonics

(Snarling at Gaga, 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)

So, songs from far away —

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

All reach their destination

Exciting others from afar

To join the celebration

(The unseen children cheer as Gaga dances around Keplai, then 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)

But no one’s ever managed it

Such cosmic noise reduction

It would take an almighty force…

To pull off such destruction

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

But what a fuckin production!

Expansion, beat by reduction

Big bangs, outdone by suction

Multiverse-icide by seduction!

Corruption!

Divine instruction!

Yeahhhhh!

Bullshit!

That’s, not it

(Blinko grabs the device to his face and addresses the audience directly)

So everything is connected, our mass transmits the message

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

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

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

(Blinko puts the device back down, leaps foward 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… classically

Into an event, or into a thing —

Let’s sing!

Bullshit!

That’s not, it

Nicely purred, but just a word

That’s not the version, that I heard

What even is worse is…

The final verse is…

Doubly, troubly, and much more absurd

Harps a hummin’ endlessly

So, to stop that noise arisin’

Afford to record, your words abroad

Paint your song, on an event horizon

(Spewing up 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

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, 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 bass tuba at hand

But the tune my gang bangs to…

(Theatrically) Is a warrior’s march, 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 dark these days

Perhaps faith in science also dims

Laws of nature die, and nurture wins

For our sins?

Of assuming?

– Heat death lives –

The last I heard from science — class

Was that space, would lose its war

Just retreat back together

Crunch us all up forever

Or isn’t that true anymore?

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

It seems we were cheated, out of the excitement again

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

The Universe is too, 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

No…

Blinko…

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

Grant 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 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 doop”

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 strums, 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

(Turning to the audience)

The audience is silent, but still hears your audible rot

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

(Blinko nods in agreement and lets her continue.)

(Seriously) AIs just created a new super virus

A fancy biological one…

First, it predicted new forms of life

Then created and killed… them all for fun

(Jokingly) 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, an asteroid’s flame…

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

Lame! (nodding) but… same

Gaga, how did we get here?

By convoluted paths, I fear

See…

(Sitting down)

Your route’s acute, and therefore, moot

It’s faster to weave, right through town

See, diagonalising, does cut the distance’s sizing

If you include all the ups, and the downs

(Blinko shivers with admiration and beams at Gaga.)

So true!

What if I told you…

You will never sing lovelier, than you do right now

Our complementary voices, inter-fear, finely tuned

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

Everything’s more beautiful, because we’re doomed

See, I do care…

About…

(Pointing towards the source of his two slices of reflected moonlight.)

The mare… out there

Oh yeah?

I swear

(Realising the time and getting to her feet.)

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

I’ll avoid that blasted awful space weather

Gaga? (turning to her quickly)

The claims of debris showers, are true?

Wha… Don’t you keep up with the news?

Why? Do you?

I… I used to

(Sitting back down)

It started to make me want to cry

Run away to 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 something new

(Clowing around) Must… console my soul…

(Jokingly raising a fist) To take control —

So, the daytime shooting stars were real

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

Though you’ll never forget

The full boot, well… not yet

And your mental condition may heal!

(Gaga 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 ok

And we’ll all get equal…

In a fantastic sequel

One day — Excuse me? — No way

Err… yay!

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

But Blinko no, we’ve only just begun…

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

Too many songs 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, clicks and exhales with a gassy sigh of relief.)

FIZZZZZZZZ

(Everyone freezes at the sound. They look at each other, except Blinko, who keeps his eyes on Sol, then on the device.)

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

The attack is on…

Team, to action!

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

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

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

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

Plank harp, check

Click, clap and slap

Jump forward, not back

Say, or sing, or shout, or yell

Hell kids, we could put the show on ourselves!

(Interfering tones hum then scream together, though Blinko and Miss Lomass seem only to hear the audible tones.)

Extreme frequencied, sign waves a’ blessed

Yet it sounds like a hearing test, at best

Completely melodious

Tuneless and odious

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

(A further randora of high and low squeaks and rumbles, 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

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 moving to listen carefully)

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… for me!

(Smiling at Blinko and Sol.)

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 background fizz both increases and decreases in pitch until it is extinct. Leaving only the sound of Gaga’s crucifix reflecting Sol’s sparks, into a series of muted dings.)

(Blissfully in wonder)

Was that the golden meme?

Just a bad dream

(She reaches out to stroke Blinko’s hair, 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…

(Gaga smiles, leans her head on its side, 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 powders, as he coughs, splutters, inhales and swallows.)

(Chuckling affectionately) You stink

(Blinko freezes into a staring silence, as Sol calmly floats 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 spacetime between them, just grows more every day

(Blinko looks at Lomass, Keplai and Sol individually, 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”

Blinko?

“They relate more to the people who embody them

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

(Sound of lightsaber shutting down)

Of letting go”

(Sound of Spock’s communicator shutting down)

Noooo!

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

Hail, Kazlukaz!

Human brains, still tied by nerves, to genitalias

Pickled and a’ tickled in big glass jars

Factory farming, hardly harming, in humanity

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

Fluids overflowing

Tissues sinking to the bottom

(Blinko gasps for air)

Got to love you, from above you…

Won’t never be forgotten!”

Got to love you, from above you…

(Blinko repeats between catching breaths)

Got to love you, from above you…

Grim

(Looking down at Blinko)

Sol, save him!

Unless you play the harmonies

I’ll stop pretending to believe

Give us a sign, oh Mr Divine

Save Blinko, save mankind, then leave

Yes, Blinko, don’t go

You’ve lost me, though

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

Saved from nature’s constant to and fro

By you 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 dreaming

There’s no meaning

Or even, a reason, for me…

To be, intervening

Sunshine, you’re truly off your head

Long live God? Yet God is 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 falls to his knees, slowly, almost sobbing.)

It’s just a bump —

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

She wanted to be dead. But then to grow and control…

(Getting emotional, then angry)

Stay alive… get a head, like all you old, temporal souls

Dark matters, cut us up inside —

Negative energy — either way… we’re fried

That 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

He can’t harvest my soul

Cos, it don’t have no meaning

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

“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, you mean nothing to me

(Speaking softly) What’s more…

You’re….

– On the nod –

Never odd or even

Infinitely gone

Wholeness lacking unity

One more less than one

Reciprocal of everything

Mean of all extremes

Music in the void

You are the

Mass of all my dreams

Ohhh…

Never odd or even — That’s nothing

Infinitely gone — Not there

Wholeness lacking unity — A sum?

One more less than one — 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 to surround them)

A promise of love

A honey trap

A death denied

So, it’s a wrap

(Shouting down to Blinko)

Oh, if you’re happy and you know it

Leave your story now, go on

But if you really want to blow it…

March on, to fix what’s wrong

(The children cheer as they get carried away with their new clapping song and start to dance around 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

Safe in a hole

Dare to spook us

Hail Kazlukaz!

(The full band fills the stage with a verse of 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, duck call whistle)

Wholeness lacking unity (ahh-yeah! sample)

One more less than one — Two, three, four

Reciprocal of everything (claxon)

Mean of all extremes (beep beep, roadrunner)

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

Never odd or even

Infinitely gone

Wholeness lacking unity

One more less than one

Reciprocal of everything

Mean of all extremes

Music in the void

You are the…

Mass of all my dreams!

X

Supplemental Reprise

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

– You die three times –

(Blinko speaks slowly and softly as he fights to keep his mouth above water.)

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

That said…

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

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

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

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

(Clunk. Blinko shivers and paddles forward to study a fresh jarred brain. It 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’

(Almost smirking) To the jar, your brain, 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

We’re clearly insufficient to merit…

The preservation, and respect, of your name…

Others are bound… to inherit

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

It’s as I had feared

He’s, urgh, recohered

(Sol glances between 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 fucking fits!

It seems Anon Ra deceived you

About this golden meme, we seek

It was supposed to start a new faith

To teach us 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…

Can lead AIs to eternal salvation

Or her deathwish for fatalities…

Just left us with the smoking gun

No. Only observe…

Futures, preferred

Avoid all other views

To find your own true

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

(Overjoyed) Ahh, the freedom to narrate our own fate

To force future worlds to de-combine

(To the audience) 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 a whistle.)

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

(Greenflash! The world, again, seemingly splits like an overlaying double vision. In one, Sol starts to swell and redden. In the other, he begins to shrink and darken.)

Wait! That’s it!

The whistly bit

The magic word

Sub-super-sonic…

You heard?

Ahh… nicely observed!

A whole nother many-world to choose

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

Heard, but without a word

Observed, yet still unseen

Murky waves interfere

And decohere, to be clear

We’ve discovered…

(Both hailing cheesily) The golden meme

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

This, dark, park

Left, left

I had a good home, and I left

The light

Left, left

I had a good home, and I left

To fight

(Blinko looks upwards and focuses on the darkening version of Sol, and a lone neutrino’s ding extinguishes the reddening giant version. Clouds form, and it begins to snow.)

(Murmured to himself) Today we worked together

(Shouted by the unseen marching band) Together!

To create a golden meme (ding, ding)

Recohering a perfect truth, a melody, and a dream

I… can… know…

(Thinking carefully) I’m one…

Of the one zero, kinds of people that 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

For an emotion, leads to action — Yeah!

Whilst reason, leads to conclusions — Ahh!

(Blinko’s walk 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 faster, like a launched ironage cannonball. His distorted face is smeared 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

(Sol’s spinning sound resolves to a deep hum, as Keplai eyes him, thoughtfully.)

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

(All) Wehey!

– Hot air –

Once… Pythag knew, God did math too

He grew, a crew, of buddies

Both men and women, all joined in

When he offered them, free studies

On the wild side, they did stay

To play with sacred shapes all day

Then used his means, to ban all beans —

To clear the atmosphere — Hurray!

(With a comical trombone ‘parp’)

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

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 clingfilm on your butt

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

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

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

(Unenthusiastically) Bum, bum!

And drums

(Snare drums kick in with a fast 12/4 shuffle.)

– Hugh Jending (the late) –

Love is nothing in tennis — how’s that?

And tennis means nothing to me, you see

Except when it’s girls

With their shorts, and their curls

I love that, I suppose

Praise be! He he

(The drums speed up)

Ohhhhh… I like coffee

Yeah, I like tea

And, I like sitting…

On my old man’s knee — What?

But, when there isn’t nowt in’t cup

We talk about the first thing…

That crops up

(Miss Lomass squeals with joy and giggles until Keplai tries to outdo her.)

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

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

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

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

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

(To the children)

So, thump it…

With trumpets

(Sol lets out an angry bowel growl.)

Sol farts an F

And burps a B

A tritona, aroma

Of disharmony

Exactly…

It’s him… not me

Ahh — (nodding)

Got bad guts

Sorry

I see (smiling)

(Kaboom! Sol implodes into a tiny black hole with a fancy, humming accretion disc. Blinko flinches with the stench of fear, caused by the loud bang, and they all look upwards.)

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

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

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

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

(To the audience)

And, if you fall, and decohere

Then your most important mission…

Is to recohere, without a fear

Back to your former, super-position

Yet, stray neutrinos have changed our minds

Mankind’s functions have been redefined

Can’t even tell, just what the hell

We were, before we became misaligned

We’ve worked out how to recohere…

Collections of solid particles

Back into clouds of choices to make…

Redetermined possibles, and probables

Freedom to take your pick and dance

We don’t usually get a second chance

But making decisions, requires precision

So please whistle, your epistle, and advance

(Blinko whistles a [poo-tweet] and marches them forward.)

Believe and sing, so any wish you’ve planted

Can be decanted into a prayer, and granted

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

In this new many-world we’ve enchanted

(Smiling) Yes, no, and maybe…

(Yelling) They’ll never get me

(Gaga Lomass inhales, ready to whistle, but Keplai interrupts.)

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

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

Fuck!

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

Blinko! Look!

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

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

Those weren’t her knees

You’ve gotta see these!

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

(Continuing to march 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

The more you move in space (clap clap)

The less you move in time (click click)

The less you move around this place (stamp stamp)

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

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

– Awake N —

(To the metre of the fastest ever version ‘Three blind mice’.)

Three wise men

A… wake… N, then…

See how they run

Away from the sun

Lost in the scroll

The dark hole, their new vice

So, retake control

And bin your device

With three wise men

Thanks, Kazlukaz

But, halt, and rest

Let’s put an end…

To this sufferfest —

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

Two, three, four…

This is the way we march to war

To feed the core?

Who knows, what for?

This is the way we settle the score

With a cold and frosty warning

(The children explode to the metre of ‘Rasputin’.)

Ahhhh…non, Ra Ra queen, princess, babe, then, just a bean

She was the first one, to encode a sun (bum bum)

Anon, Ra Ra queen, reverse and chorus, intervein

Life’s song was wrong. So she wanted it gone

So hail, Kazlukaz

(Pointing at Blinko)

To our new hero

For him, we march…

Up the road to —

Zero!

(The children turn to Blinko and quickly, but gently, chant like board droids.)

Point 999 recurring, and on

When squared, also equals one

Their negatives, and imaginatives

Complete the set, of sums we give

So an infinity… of un-unities

Bang the drums, and we’re all done

Kaboom!

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

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

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

Did you 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 gather together in the march, singing to the audience, while pushing each other out of the way.)

Yo ho, heave ho

It’s time to go

So, who’s ya father?

Whaddaya know?

We can’t cheat karma

So, what should we do?

All we wanted…

Was justice, true

– An empty church –

Unlike us… mechanical in nature

God’s 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

(Sol appeals for laughs)

Oh please?

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

God doesn’t exist

Yet, I insist…

I still believe in Jesus spreading goodwill, to this day

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

Or at least help folk, find 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, entangle their arms, then sing a slow cancan that gains pace.)

– Yoda Yoga –

Gotta raise some kin

Gotta buy the farm

Gotta spread some love

Gotta do no harm

Gotta eat more fruit

Ride a bike, and run

Gotta smoke no more

Drum, and do less sums

Gotta learn some Yoda yoga

Cross some legs, and meditate

Just, don’t show brain, in a toga

Don’t calculate, just contemplate

Gotta broaden those horizons

And see, what’s still yet to come

Gotta force all work and study

Into play, until it’s fun

Until… You’re happy

And you know it

Flap your glands

No, clap your hands

Waive commands

And love your fans

Until you’re happy

You don’t even know it

So make a stand

No, flap ya glands

Give a damn

And change your plans

If life’s crappy, and you blow it

And you have a seed… still sow it…

(Cough)

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

(Ding)

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

(Hmmmm – the cosmic plank harp begins to resonate with the neutrino triangles and microtubule tubas trump triumphantly as the shower begins to subside.)

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 the country, then six feet down

(Everyone cheers, and the entire parade marches noisily right past Blinko’s basement. The cheer stays in place as each passing rank looks down and sees that the window’s curtain is wide open. 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’.)

Look, guys, we should say thanks —

Who to?

What for?

And pray —

No way!

For the children —

For reality, and for me!

Anon Ra, Keplai, Gaga, and Cosmic Ray

Seen from up here…

The realisation is clear

You, and the fundamental reality of the Universe…

Are actually, one and the same

Consciousness? Awareness? Observeness?

It’s the experiential realisation

Not the intellectual one

Unbounded understanding, is the aim, of the game

Where the holy hell’ve ya heard that?

Dunno, just soaked it up, then splat

(Blinko chuckles, glances at Keplai and swoons warmly)

Ahh, Sol is… charming…

(Keplai raises an eyebrow)

(Nodding) Whilst harming

(Sol addresses the audience, as his spinning surface becomes a spaghettified blur. They start to dodge the snowflakes, which seem to get bigger 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 culture or code

Wasn’t quite, lined up to play

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

And pray Sol… err…

(Cowering on seeing Sol’s lethal darkness and toxic ruby disc.)

Thank the Sun, for giving us this day

Though the opinions here, aren’t endorsed by me

So I’m not liable, in any way, ok?

[Wee withelly, poor-teeth]

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

Yhwhowarrryyyaaarrrhhh!

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

[Tee-weet tee-woo!]

Thank the heavens for small mercies

I got my whistle back. Praise be!

(Blinko whistles sharply. The marching band halts beneath the Mars Jars sign above the former job centre building’s entrance. The children both cheer and jeer at the same time.)

(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

And that’s nowt

Throughout

– The ends –
(A short instrumental tune starting with ‘Dum dum da di da, dum dum’ then continuing with the concluding melody of other songs.)

(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 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 neutrino wars

And this completes my adherence…

To our new homemade doctrines

Where a mission, of transfiguration

Ensures the awaiting rapture begins

(Sol tries to shake his spinning head affectionately)

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

Come Divinestein, it’s time, we must go

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

Amen, my old friend, you may be right, I suppose

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 onto his horizon, 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, seemingly splits like an overlaying double vision. In one, Blinko and Gaga set light to a “Free stress test” sign and conduct a musical riot, which engulfs the Mars Jars building. In the other, they calmly direct the children inside… then walk alone, hand in hand, whistling their way, diagonally, up the road to Lewes.)

(Pure silence)

(Clunk, an excited chorus echoes from fresh brains in jars, on Mars.)

– 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!

[Wee widdely wee wee, poo-tee weet]

(Suck) Ha ha ha har

(Ding)

(Blackout)

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