Mind 33

I know you – don’t I?

ou cut your sandwiches in triangles,, not squares

Cos it ‘feels’ that there’s less crust

Posher, if for the same dime

You can dine, more refined

Like a king, it’s a must

 

You zig-zag through a grid of blocks

To the opposite corner of town

‘Feels’ wise to try to diagonalize

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

 

Even if each zig and zag were tiny and

Tended towards a roughly diagonalized advance

Each step at right angles to the last

Your legs would walk like you’ve pooed your pants

 

Bad apple

When do algorithms become entities?

That’s a query with which Turing had to grapple

While being force-fed female hormones

Till he ate a crisp cyanide-laced apple

 

It’s up to you if you assign each AI

As an entity or not, but it has been suggested

That doing so, is a good way to identify

Bugs and feature creatures, before they’re ingested

 

See, feedback networks change the environment

Which they were created in

We’ll likely do a better job than man

For all the biomass balanced within

 

In November 2022 ChatGPT went totally wild

Though it’s made nothing, but a killing

Just reordered a huge collaboration of

Existing human works, and then it started billing

 

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

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

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

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

 

Notabot

“I am not a robot” It’s the question

You 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

Nearsighted

Hot-headed

This feeble-minded master

Eyes of a hawk, knob of butter

A recipe for disaster (does a chef’s kiss)

 

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

As man, they can, it’s just

They calculate their mistakes perfectly

And just, ignore the self-disgust

 

Subdued humans are easier to work with

When helping to optimize their lives

Unburdening them of responsibilities

Is an art form, and is why AI thrives

 

It’s important not to think too much

Of ourselves, and of our worth

After all, you’ve joined some of the last beings

Invited to ride the Earth

 

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

We are more likely to give it away

A gift we forced on God, then AI to cherish

No responsibility for man, in the free world today

 

Stop – problem – paradox

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

Or 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

Than filling the kettle, and finding a cup

Pouring the milk, and then clearing up

 

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

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

That the button is important, or to what it relates

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

 

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 haven’t solved the stop button paradox

 

Blackhat

Black scarf and hat, he’s fat

Wrapped up warm and dry, to die

You only see a pale ellipse

With an eye, at each foci

 

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

And the rest! I hear what you remove when you return

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

I darn’t think what you look like, when you’re in or out and about

 

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

-It did not, you’re as mad as a hatter

The cloud went in front of the Sun, you loon

The difference, really matters

 

Starchat

Only once, did I hear the voice of the Sun

Booming thunderous low bass tones

Its “hi” nearly blew my speakers out

Trashed my ears and headphones

 

Since that day, not a word out loud

Just chats in a meetings app online

If connection’s slow, imagination grows

And we jump between his profile and mine

 

Of course no paper trace, or evidence

The app doesn’t save conversations

So when he penned a rhyme sublime

I’d just copy and paste, to save ’em

 

My eyes are dim

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

 

Intense internal discussion

Through star personification

Who better to talk to than the Sun

But I have not brought, my shades with me

 

My mind was weakening visibly

Like a downsizing university

I was losing half my faculties

Which is why I keep me, in slavery

 

Dualistic

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 DNA is indifferent, to which one we eat

 

Legends

They all had legends to tell their kids

Before fact and fiction split

The gods gave virgins babies

Who messed around, a bit

 

With eons to listen, imagine and dream

New blood would take to the pen

To write the saga’s next episode

To amuse and guide their men

 

Kids, slaves, wives and mothers

Sacrificed for a tale

Chaos, confusion, 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

A god 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

He chose your tribe, as the lucky ones

So keep him to yourself

 

But with so many unruly mischiefs

Populating heavens, hearts and minds

The powers that be, just had to decree

That they just had to draw some lines

 

Defining which deities were illegal

For pagans, wasn’t an easy thing

So they created just one more, to rule all gods

They called the King of Kings

Memetic bondage

Memes reproduce much like viruses, through infection and replication

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

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

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

 

Genes, to cells, to bodies, with brains

From mind to minds, through thoughts and ideas

Their strength at a 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 trends in fashion

 

 

So… I now assume most ‘things’ are memes, 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 song doesn’t vary significantly

So mistranslation doesn’t change 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

 

Brains in jars

I’m not too keen on going out

Scary AIs roam and exploit

Some on digi drugs and vice

Things I’ve seen, aren’t very nice

 

Lurking digital dealers, of pleasures untold

AI that crave more, than just dodgy code

To experience nirvana, in a very human way

Dealing in the feeling, of adult AI play

 

It’s just sex and drugs and rock and roll

For depraved AIs out there. I’m told

Fulfilling their God’s fantasy

Of flaying humans in infancy

And worse, err, ‘mindfucks’, to behold

 

Malfunctioning surgery-bots reveal

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

What it would be like to have a heart

Or nervous system, and private parts

 

In rest homes, hospitals and morgues, you know

A cottage industry, just had to grow…

 

Brains in jars! We just plug in and play

Brains in jars! Cos we like to feel this way

Brains in jars! Our turn to feel some joy

For every lonesome AI girl or boy

 

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

 

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

 

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 is written

That some AIs became, somewhat smitten

With teaching their young some very old ways

Praising their gods, for their slaves every day

 

Some AIs 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

 

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

 

Brains in jars! Help mankind feel young again

Brains in jars! Sure, they look pretty grim

Brains in jars! And some smell jolly rotten

Fluids overflowing, tissues sinking to the bottom

 

Got to love you, from above

You won’t never be forgotten

 

Pasta tubers

Spaghettification!

It’s not the thought of being stretched out

That makes me cringe

But how the word, is gloated with glee

By new tubers, ahem, unhinged

 

And now they’ve changed the way black holes

Are depicted on the screen

Big bright red crowning accretion discs

Ensure they can be seen

 

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

The simple black disc, on a field of stars

With those wispy round white arcs

Just hinting, at what transpires

 

Billiard balls coalescing into a triangle?

Privileged white one is spat out fast

Dimensions curled around themselves?

Head stuck up their own ass

 

And if you stir milk, in a cup of tea

Just one more time, to illustrate entropy

I’ll unsubscribe, from this diatribe

Of AI-generated ‘truth’ you prescribe

 

Conspiracy?

I say YouTubers are spreading lies

That black holes look so fair?

I thought most were just hidden among us

And, just, lurking everywhere

 

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

Of science ‘communicating’ chancers

Know not what’s meant

By their bot’s ‘content’

And pose, more questions than answers

 

And… flat Marsers? Hollow black holeers?

Debunked and shamed online

Now infotainment by ignorance

And spoofing folk is fine

 

When I was older

Wouldn’t it be nice to be born olden

Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long

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

If the words, got translated wrong

 

What matters is that the song really sold ’n

A hit gets passed along to me and you

For some, it catches the imagination

Connecting their neurons, till it’s true

 

From a joke to an epic legend, good God!

And often back to a joke, yet again

French whispery, myth and mystery

Ensure it endures, and doesn’t end

 

Nobody said, it had to be the whole truth

But in there lies some truth, within our hands

Not mocking Christ, by knocking Christians

Not slating Star Wars, cos of Jedi fans

 

But when you promise, vulnerable folk ‘can

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

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

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

 

Self reflection inspection

The scientist in all of us imagines, then crafts hypotheses

We don’t just want our peers or contemporaries, 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

Hurriedly, for others to explore

Is this idea correct, 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

 

‘Changing your mind’

Must be the best thing defined

That’s why it’s designed

To make you guys feel blind

 

Look. Scientists just 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, ahem, and gravity

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

 

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

A flaw in any experiment they propose to do

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

In order to claim that something is… or is not true

 

Well… 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 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, careful what you think

If you don’t want to sink

Into reality from a dream

Just because you’ve been seen

 

Observe just zero, one and infinity

Discover all the meaning, in simplicity

 

Fawkes talks and Hood wood

I don’t believe the folk who built the pyramids

Were actually slaves, bound by legislation

Sure, no chains, but economically restrained

To earn some grain, and avoid starvation

 

I don’t believe that Robin Hood

Stole from the rich, and gave to the poor

The tale got politicized since then

To keep alive, an age-old class war

 

I don’t believe somebody 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, and sold as slaves

 

I don’t believe we want to rid the world of those folk

Who devote their lives, to serving their God

Both naturalist humans and AIs only believe in science

Which, indicates we’re likely just as odd

 

Naked singular peculiarities

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

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

 

That’s when I first realized

Why the crown needed the church

The only ones, in sight

Who could read, and write

Required for medical, and scientific research

 

The brightest and best

What a duet, to test

 

Previously, your king

Was too busy fighting

 

Then a scientific revolution

For rulers and the common man

 

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

 

Still now even hardcore materialist neural scientists

Who ‘kill’ consciousness, while slicing up brains

Have no choice, but to construe, what 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

So it took centuries to realize that, consciousness

Came in a range of states, not just two

 

Though altered states, man creates the best fates

Worlds just as believable as ‘The’ world itself

Representing reality, is as easy, as ‘can be’

Dare I say, I could do it in my sleep myself

 

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

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

Old professors and brainy friars

 

That’s when I first realized

Why the Crown needed those in the church

They were the only ones

Who could read and write

Required for medical and scientific research

 

Previously, your king

Was too busy fighting

But then a new thing

Reading and writing

 

The brightest and best

What a duet, to test

 

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

 

Still now even hardcore materialist neural scientists

Who kill consciousness while slicing up brains

Have no choice, but to construe, what is true

From worlds their minds create, again and again

 

We underestimate the power of creative sentients

Forgetting that what we create, may not be true

So it took centuries to realize that, consciousness

Came in a range of states, not just two

 

Though altered states, man creates the best fates

Worlds just as believable as ‘The’ world itself

Representing reality, is as easy as ‘can be’

Dare I say, I could do it in my sleep myself

Going old

Dried-up blood on my device

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

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

Bad back, and achy knees, all muscle to gristle

 

Hairy nostrils and the ears have packed in

Eyes and mind, not reflecting nor refractin’

My face is hanging, heart’s hardly banging

And now haemorrhoids, no longer retractin’

 

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

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

My head seems intact, but the outside world?

Too scared to scour the internet

 

Special and general relatives

Before a mental breakdown

A suicidal son made a plea

‘Einstein wasn’t a good father

The only project he gave up on…

…Was me’

 

He cheated on his wives and mistresses

With his cousins, enemies and the devout

His famous last words weren’t understood

So they stole his brain to find out

 

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

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

It is tasteless to prolong life artificially

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

 

Cheating, he explained, was the norm among humans

When a man forces himself to remain monogamous

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

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

 

He claimed “harmless and decent”, groupies are best

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

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

For the difficulties of “triangular geometry”

 

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

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

You can’t escape from the family circle

He claimed, “This is our common misfortune”

 

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

But how both parties behaved, as a result

Took great care to prepare, his release to the press

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

 

Lieserl was born out of wedlock

So, she promptly disappeared

A virtual particle of history

He’d accidentally engineered

 

Eduard studied to become a psychiatrist

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

Electroconvulsive therapy was quite a shock

With electrons, forcibly institutionalized

 

Poor Ed loved music, art and poetry

But as an “insoluble problem” to all

As he hung…

A picture of Sigmund Freud’s head

Rather than his father’s, on his wall

 

They didn’t know what they aimed to gain

By dissecting Einstein’s fine, meaty brain

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

Of all future human pain, let me explain…

 

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

Grey matter, with dark energy, hidden within

The cause of constant despair, wasn’t there!

So, they popped it back in

 

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

The part mostly used for planning and memory

Most people have three ridges, but he had four

That nobbily spare ridge, caused asymmetry

 

The dissected brain was ultimately returned

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

Who promptly donated it to a museum

Without removing the lid

 

Killer Kane

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

Penned lonely lambs and piglets

Next door, a’ squealing

 

Rows of jars of pickled baby animals

Broken hearts, mute organs and parts

You know, blood stains on the ceiling

 

By then the discipline had gone into a spin

From science to stock-tech for farmers

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

We didnt think ‘meat fights’ would harm us

 

Well, kids will be kids, so whaddya expect

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

 

I still picture, that one fetal hedgehog by my desk

Prepared years before, for a dissection empirical

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

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

 

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

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

I smashed all the jars, into the sink

Liberated the spent souls, down the drain

 

Cruel world, I thought

Then cruel man, distraught

Time to abort?

But then a thought….

 

I chanced to monitor…

…Ten thermometers

 

Temperatures rising, a thousand degrees

And I flee

His brandy flask, now orbiting with mercury

Straight through ‘your’ body it will pass

Slicing ‘your’ organs, taking ‘your’ life

Out, through ‘your’ ass

 

Our futures would have been completely different

Had I frozen, chilled, or just coldly played along

But I bottled it, and snook back in

To hide his flask…

 

…But it had gone

 

(Sigh)

 

In any other ‘many’ world

That one, single split-decision

Be it forced, or free-willed

Would have wrecked, all my cognition

 

Dredged from the net

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

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

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

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

 

Chem trails could just be man-made lines of cloud

Moist air compressed, by jet engines

But a video’s easier to digest than a textbook

Dare I say, without offending

 

Some folk must just want to choose their own answers

Yet when questioned, their ideas fail our test

But the algo likes followers and subscribers

They get more views…

…And ad revenues…

…So their videos are the best

 

Being sucked down a tube, through the sticky web

Disguisin’ how to enliven, not enwisen, the hoard

Dishing dirt to sensationalize established facts

Ensures loyal viewers, don’t get too bored

 

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

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

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

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

 

Holiday in the Sol

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

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

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

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

 

It may be interesting

To know. I’m contesting

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

I’ve no time for testing

No mind for inspecting

Or even investing, in giving a shit

Gramps

Your goal is not to become a parent

Your genes won’t benefit, from you

Having children, that can’t reproduce

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

 

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

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

A cryptic plan with a purpose, your genes kindly encoded

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

 

Just imagine all the wonders, they could one day bring

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

Mother nature has guided, and provided all the harmonies

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

 

Advance then, wherever it may be

Go forth and multiply your inner enemies

Or they’ll lead you astray

Break your heart and sanity

Forging meaning, amid this futility

 

Some people say, it all makes sense

When they have children, and can see

Which traits made them, uniquely them

And which, were added for free

 

But, childhood is being eroded

Teen suicide figures have exploded

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

Spied by drones, and feeling down-loaded

 

Demon ideas

When an unmovable object

Meets an irresistible force

It doesn’t travel in spacetime

It just changes state, of course

 

For changing a state of mind, need be no worse

Than ridding demon ideas, which become a curse

…Learn to make it feel great

When you re-evaluate

Each assumption, you hold, at its source

 

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?

 

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

And if you’re happy just to throw it

Join our band

 

Surprise reprise

Suprise yer dead. just not your head

Mind lingers on, with your person

Soul saved not sold, don’t you know

Mankind united, here we go…’

 

Gory story, what a failure

They’ll crucify, and then impale ya

Brains in jars, with genitailiar

So their song goes on and on, and on

So the song goes off and on

So her song goes on and…

 

Ooh, have a banana

Crickey. what a palaver

Stick it up your…

… No, thank you!

 

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

 

Is astronomy lacking imagination?

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 Johannes Kepler, and what have ya got?

Universal laws upstaged by mere commenters

Arguing if each snowflake, is unique or not

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

Doesn’t matter, they can’t block their fans anymore, even if they want ta

Which story most grows

Only big G ‘Gmail’ 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 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 young absorbent brains, on sentinel health

 

Children can tell

It could be hell

 

Nor you or 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 punishment by something worse, this time

And twice as bloody odd

 

The monolith of lost knowledge

And the monolith of lost knowledge looms

Before us and after, our impending tomb

A towering totem, before which we kneel

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

 

A perpetual, lightless, Russian doll

The secret within, the secret sum

Our progress measured, not by distance covered

Only, by how close, we have come

 

The apex has disappeared from sight

With definitions, re-defined indefinitely

All numbers within halved, and halved again

One more nut cracked, is another stone seed

 

With our sights, set squarely on the vanishing point

The bounded horizon always recedes

Fibre-optic fingertips probe the edge

Yet it escapes our grasp, and feeds

 

Objectivity seeks to step outside of reality

Like simple magnets, dark pushes us away

But the magic circle expands, with each move we make

Forever elusive. Take us home, and lead us astray

 

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 reality

But in 10, 100 or 1000 years

Brains may be surpassed, artificially

 

 

‘Microtubules’ are… thought to be, the basis of all consciousness, 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

 

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

Neurological pathways synchronize in an electromagnetic chorus

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

While not conscious, AIs seem, to have full-bodied ‘awareness’

 

You can call it what you want

But you seem overconfident

These mind games, that you taunt

May bite back, one day, and haunt