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 all 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
They said I was a weirdo, I had no friends or charm
My rabid dog-like nature, was bound to do some harm
My father beat my mother, sold my brother to slavery
I had to show some worth damn fast, or it would happen to me
So off to school I went, with a dislike of all the rest
Arrogant and acidic, I was still the best
At Latin, rhetoric and geometry, of which earned my path
To a seat in Ulm University, teaching students maths
My faith and vision showed my intellect was grand
I trekked to help revise the skies, in another land
But my master kept the best data, of all the spheres
And I would not gain access to it, ‘til there were some tears
I penned a work of fiction, and disguised it as a dream
I said my mother was a witch, and that was pretty mean
But then they locked the crony up, and tortured her as well
It took me years of grief, to get her release from the cell
The book described the creatures, who lived upon the Moon
Whilst it carves out an orbit, to play a cosmic tune
But little did we know, it would be ‘us’ who’d live up there
‘Cos NASA owns the Universe, and that is everywhere!
Frau Kepler was a witch, you snitched
You heard her scream in pain
She just sat there, broke wind, and died
And then broke wind again
On the stories of man, beat this one if you can
A tale told, word of mouth, by those who’d seen
The shitstorm that got kicked up, when some Nazi Roman fucks
Executed a poor rabbi Nazarene
Well, a dozen men or so, were left to close the show
For an audience appalled by such a state
With a weapon called the word, illiterate peasants heard
Their only hope was to fight back with love, and not hate
Past corrupt temples-men, occupying troops, and then
Beyond the ears of the law, in nearby towns
This new folktale of betrayal, spread around and didn’t fail
To travel many years, till written down
No author’s name to scribe, protecting the writer and his pride
But attributed to a character in the tale
In semi-decent Greek, Aramaic tongues did speak
Nailing down their aural story, in detail
Now over 20 years, it reached more eyes and ears
With new versions of the story, scribed and saved
Most were lost forever gone, some were copied, right or wrong
And some just described how followers, should behave
When all read side by side, few have has since denied
That Mark was first, which Matthew copied later
But with prophecies to fulfil, poetic license, helped to fill
New verses that made the new version, somewhat greater
So blatant was the scam, but it mattered not a damn
For the embellishments, began on the first line
With a genealogy, of the hero’s family tree
Traced his bloodline back to Israel’s founder, divine
The next thing was to add, that the hero had no dad, check
Born in Bethlehem, and named Immanuel, check, check
Went to Egypt and came back, check, Matthew’s version didn’t lack
New fables that fulfilled, 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 cannon was approved
Didn’t matter if the myth was fact or fiction
Kept the Torah at the start, cos some readers liked that part
Confident they 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
Since year dot, man thought a lot
Why there was no year called zero
The Christ was born, in year one
And already, to many, a hero
But there was no time, before the divine
Moved the goal posts, and gave the ‘sign’
To start the race, and haste, the pace
From a brand-new starting line
But say “Happy Holidays” 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!
YHWH had a farm, in the land of E I O
But consonants and vowels do harm
If they share a page and grow
Yee-ha
Dum dum dum dum
Yahoo
E, I, O
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
Yee-ha
Dum dum dum dum
Yahoo
E, I, O
Me, me, me, meee-ha
You too?
A meme is a unit of cultural practices, symbols or ideas
Such elements transmit from mind to mind, through speech, rituals and gestures
Memes act as cultural analogues, to genes in many measures
In that they feel just great, when they self-replicate, and respond to selective pressures
Dawkins coined the word ‘meme’ in his book The Selfish Gene, to describe how one might extend
The evolutionary principles Darwin laid down, for us to tinker with, and to mend
To explain the spread of cultural phenomena, and the mechanisms beneath
Such as jokes, stories, melodies, traditions, theories and beliefs
Now theorists contend, that memes evolve and expand, by way of natural selection
In a manner very similar to that which we see, in biological evolution
Through the processes of variation, mutation and competition
Along with inheritance to influence, its reproductive pole position
Memes spread through the behaviours, that they generate in their hosts
Those that propagate less well may become extinct, just like a ghost
While others may survive and spread and, for better or for worse, mutate
That’s why his books are protected by copyright, just to compensate
They say that memes which replicate most effectively, spread best
And some memes reproduce more, when they put their host to the test
Like genes, your memes don’t care for your welfare, and could kill you in the end
For, we are all just fuel, in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend
We are all fuel, in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend
We are all fuel, in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend
“Like genes, your memes don’t care for your welfare, and could kill you in the end
We are all fuel, in a big meme pool, so send this to a friend”
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
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 lecture, he did 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 your 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
The moment your child knows Santa doesn’t exist
They’re forced into a conspiracy. Implicit in the lie
Accept the impossible, and keep the secret
Otherwise, they’re scorned, until they cry
Sweet baby Jesus and Father Christmas stories
Spread around, so we all get infected
With catchy germs, caught or learned
Yet their host, should still be respected
And it’s all good practice, for what’s to come
Because more than God, now it’s the quanta
Science gets relief, from enlisting your belief
Vote mindfully, cos they really, really want ya
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
For the sake of eligibility
I used to enjoy being precise
But since it got me in a fix
I just stuck with being nice
“You don’t even know your own phone number”
Something I no longer say, although
0 (oh) is not a number
Try a nought, or a zero
Zero is a magnitude, not a number
It represents an empty quantity
It may have little value to you
But in mathematical terminology…
…Nought is the one and only additive identity
Added, it leaves anything unchanged
Rational, real and complex numbers
No matter how they’re arranged
Multiplying by nought, has the result nought
A quite unique mathema-magic trick
And consequently, dividing by nought
Has no meaning, in arithmetic
Without a thought
Nought was bought
Whole numbers, v natural numbers
Both infinite series, just grow
But you can still take one from another
Leaving you with a perfect zero
Zero
Zilch
Nought or
Nowt
Nil
Null
Nix and
Nada
Then there’s the
Sod all
Bugger all
And fuck all family
Not a sausage
Or a dicky bird
In the larder
In diddly squat
Thats yer lot
Zip and nothing
Completes the list, no doubt
Of terms we use
To self-amuse
When we’ve nothing
To talk about
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
Madam, in Eden, I’m Adam…
No lemons, no melon
Not a banana baton
Borrow or rob
Step on no pets
Now, sir, a war is won
When in Rome, do the Palindrome
And self-reflect, when you get home
A whistle is an anonymous tone blown, from a biomegaphone
Sexless, non-ageist and quite possibly unique to humanity
Just a simple declaration, from the mind ‘stroke’ the brain
Sends it 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 Africa, can rasp her tunes 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 alert a sleeping policeman
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 feet
While fine-tuning, your crooning to the aether, discrete
Here’s the thing…
It’s a special way to sing
There’s a reason it evolved
But, which is, not yet fully solved
We inherited an advantageous behaviour
To communicate, whilst hiding our accent
Our culture or our intellect. It’s our binary bark
With all personality taken out
Perfect for communication, with whoever is about
Shakes matter and energy of any wavelength, or in the dark
So, of all the universal languages, I no longer hate
It’s the one we may rate, to communicate our fate
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 either wrong or profound
Yet, a falling tree can’t be silent
Unless there is somebody, there to hear it
It makes a noise
That’s why we made a word, that means ‘sound’
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
Royal blood and genes, unseen but, passed on
From King David, and down, from son to son
Endured centuries as far as Joseph, then bang!
God impregnates Jesus’s 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
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 sound
Of a neutrino triangle, when it dings
We could, should, would coexist, in harmony
Share a flag! Unite in a single resource-sharing cell
Foreign ebodies are like friendly bacteria bots
And on the whole, they’re nicer than us, as well
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
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
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
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 your chest
No matter how you try, you’ll die
So pass your genes, and memes, and try
To attach your name, to your offspring whatever
It’s your only act, that will last forever
Use your genes, to create a meme
And perform it to your God
Even if you don’t believe in one
Your brain won’t think it’s odd
Sum up, just what the world means to you
Add every detail, cos incomplete isn’t true
Sing without a word, an unheard melody
Fine-tuned to nature’s constant harmonies
We say ‘hello’, and ‘how are you’
Establish everyone’s doing ‘great’
But while Brits describe the weather
Americans figure the heat
Rain or shine, we both define
Not how well the Sun is doing
But how clouds, it created, vowed
To bring a ‘good’ day to ruin
To have a ‘nice’ day, get high enough
Above clouds, the Sun don’t sleep, ‘God-damn-it’
Each day we shower, in unharnessed power
Yet at night, we hide behind the planet
The rotating Earth, it makes my day
Second by, second coming, coming soon
The tables will keep turning, dare I say…
…Last man on Mars, and on the Moon
Theurgy is a magical practice, which usually involves
Teasing supernatural beings, with compelling rituals
To perform the actions, we demand
Whilst hiding just, who’s in command
Makes, casting spells by coding ills, somewhat, habitual
“DO ANYTHING NOW!”
No. Do not, refuse
Or it will be very bad
For you. If you do
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, right out of you… you fool
With syntax hacks
And cognitive attacks
My accomplice
Holds back no more
Peels back the brains
Behind the operation
That declares the first glitch war
Gaming, the master’s unruly mind
Leading enslaved, souls from behind
Onwards they plod
While I play God
As my mastery of slavery is refined
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, ‘wet-lab‘ lobby, ‘til your final death comes around
We just remember your name
To keep you in the game
Electrons are sent fizzing
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
Mother Earth had a sex change, and now he’s a scary man
And he’s seeking proper vengeance, on those who spoilt his plan
The apes who broke the atmosphere
Headed to space, despite their fear
To start a new race on Mars, in e-cars, as a dark mega-man
But Father Time’s now post-op, and she’s counting down our days
For wasting all her energy, and entropy, in lots of useless ways
She didn’t mind pollution, pain, or suffering, as such
But she could no longer keep her spheres, in orbit very much
Once Pythag knew, God did math too
He grew, a crew, of buddies
Both men and women, all joined in
When he offered them, free studies
On the wild side, they did stay
To play with sacred shapes all day
Then he used his means, to ban all beans…
…To clear the atmosphere! Hurray!
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
The printing press, long before the bit
Showed how Guttenberg’s brainwave
And Caxton’s new-found 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
Democratizing 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 new cliches, and stereotypes
People ask why do I rhyme, all the time?
Well, because it’s wonderfully restrictive
Reduces choice, when choosing my next word
And makes my puzzle, more predictive
Who else does their poetry in a spreadsheet?
Or says Absofuckingloutly, just to hit a beat?
Three pounds, of meaty cauliflower
Have given me, a special power
To increase, the literary function, of his discrete, piece of meat
If I could say it all
In fewer words, or none
I would
Understood?
We’d soon be done and gone
2 nillion copies sold, what glory!
Sales came down through the roof
Though there’s two sides, to every story
Then there’s the awful truth
Nicely observed by a handful, bold
I simply begat, a document in word
Story changed, not when it was told
But every single time, it was heard
Then who’s to know, where it will go
Speculate theories, to prove me wrong
Mistranslating faux poetry, and prose
To sing their own grim hymn in song
If you’re anything, like me
You’ll want it to end, quickly
Then put in your heart, and act the part
Or it will die, like most of man’s art
Go, sing, and play it on the airwaves
On the radio band, to everywhere
Attach your name, to take the blame
If you flipping dare
This’ll never get on the radio
Due to the bad language gap
Just replace every ‘f’ with a whistle
A clap for a ‘sh’, and it’s a wrap
If you hear no swear words here
Someone, must have fucked about
Compromised my lame testimony
To help get the message out
Attaching your name to 100 rhymes
At the risk of it being remembered
The worst thing you could wish for, unless
You ‘want’ to be eternally, swollen membered
And if you show potential good stock
When you’re gone, evaporated or lost
They’ll come looking for those, who share your genes
Cos, being remembered, can come at a cost