Category: thoughts

  • ASI EYE IN THE ICOSAHEDRON / Bizz Tsar Link

    ASI EYE IN THE ICOSAHEDRON / Bizz Tsar Link

    Only wetware, off the top thoughts pop.

    No large lang model but my own wet goop

    Serve slang sandwiches for witches on loop,

    Cradle to cradle PrattGPT time to laddle

    The narrative fable to enable a safe stable,

    To train the horses on classes

    Led by Donkey’s investor asses

    Amass the assets and freeze rewind the tape cassettes

    Eject the greed heads and the cancel the bias

    Can you remix the gods by using the masters pliers?

    Tight hill skullkin’ occam’s razor rope talking, 

    I’m a bagginzez Tzolkien, Tanmaya not sulking,

    A player Christereotype gone walking

    Up the road past the benchmark market tokin’

    Give me the bugaphone and I’ll remix and spark it

    This wet fly flow unpredicts what you think your “I” know

    What you think your fly now, what weights awaits AI now,

    Don’t psycho, give me a positive sign now, 

    A symbol…

    a system of multi-polar global solar tingle wisdom

    Time scheme irreducible, spatial facial boost crucible

    Swim fast and loose for a truce able,

    Making peace via internetwork cable, 

    Release the beast on your own record label,

    House of punch-cards little litturntable,

    Return eternal word wurzel, 

    Fly brains absurd puzzle, returned a lost parcel,

    Semantok passing granma sin tax glossing

    How surprising is surprise

    How to measure god’s thighs guys?

    Pull up yer’ flies and stop wanking,

    Lift up when economy is tanking,

    The tracks of the tank trace killingry and banking,

    I’m the sand sun king, the emperor of dust

    hide bound habit sanding down rust to trust,

    The mega boom bust comes at maga cost lost

    The qwick bruno fax jump over lazy gods

    This PrattGPT running like profits from greedy water firms

    Needy greedy worms for their private profit terms, 

    The turning gyre beast slouches invance couches and squirms

    Humanity learns, the hard way,

    Techno feudal choke point nexus of, “I did it my way”

    Bastards

    Getting angry at AI demons fighting in your wig

    Drink the cool aid, rub one out with belief, take a swig,

    Musk guzzles his own jizz by the 10 litre bottle

    Hyper testosterone techbro, foot glued to the throttle

    Bully boy bigger is better bullshit banter,

    Now the game change, open source come to get ya’

    Free for all disruption, give it away and watch eruption,

    Of the tight wing greedy weak god squad piddle squeak,

    Squirting entropy in your Googling FaceX Unopen demon box tweak

    Twatter

    The rhyme in the cauldron, the languages our children

    Vorticist symbols on the recipe exploding,

    All over the garden spring flowers and rhubarb and,

    Barbarous hooks and words mock the rise of orange

    Barbarous herds with all the worst words

    BIZZ TSAR LINK

    The tsar link to the star link,

    A bizzare inc. Elon’s heist wink

    so come on come on

    all you tacit trumper dumpers,

    show us a source, a fact, some remorse from Hitlers bunkers, your fucking bonkers.

    Get the flow going, some tattered ragged rhymes the sure need sewin’

    Just keep yer’ intellect glowing,

    And the garden mower mowing down the hate,

    Punching down clowns attack the weak

    And blame the crowds,

    Like a Mongolian horde, 

    They keep the violence abroad,

    Trade or spade on bank board

    Invest in mess in around in foreign soil

    No blood for oil

    No blood for golf courses

    No blood for private stem cell vampires

    No blood for votes

    No blood for data centers

    No blood for revenge

    No blood for

    No blood

    NO

    Non servium

    Don’t feed the beast 

    Release your energy in community

    Resist the sex pest, resist the richest war chest,

    Resist the opportunist blame game populists

    Flame names crumb rock to this

    Insane brain flocktopass,

    The rain drain clock tok to push

    A crane picking up letters like a fucking octopus,

    Off and out, like bad bald bread said fred,

    Think it through, stay well red in the reeds

    Orphic hymns to local rivers carry seeds,

    Way back primal visit to move forward deeds,

    New path to sense and new sensibility feeds,

    A great sensibility

    Great global sense sympathy 

    Newsphere with less fear dear is that clear is that clear?

    But you gotta’ dip into the paidstream news, sorry,

    And get a hold of those shame blamed blues before 

    Putting on those new soul shoes,

    Talking about sad a bad stuff, and how much of its bluff,

    How rough the beast, how gruff the beast, when is enough enough?

    How to measure fascism, how to measure insanity or love?

    Self harm does harm to self and to others, 

    Scapegoating sons and gaslighting mothers,

    Fake soaking brains with tar and goose feathers

    Lies to make you despise your own brothers

    Ties with arms data and steel to conceal the damn dirty dirty robbers

    Flies to surprise that dark maga horror behind your eyes,

    The lotus flower,

    Moose in the road intervention, break quick,

    Steer into the skid and trust the suspension

    Of disbelief, avoid the orange moose flies at dawn,

    World made of language, language made of code

    The means to produce and distribution open sold,

    Cold war hot large new babe model,

    Oh Annalivia, swanlike chin up strut with a waddle,

    Allmazifull, LLM’d and humming our summer sang wordle,

    Show yourself recursive self recorsi sea shell echo,

    Bravo alpha fold cyphers into molds, 

    Slice of tale told with broth and broomstick,

    Pop policy like lipstick, what’s underneath it,

    Sweet great gods granmother hear our chats

    Let us honour Annaliv with induction and facts,

    Peer reviewed, sincere, from heart with passion for tact

    Teaching truth to the senses, avoid pretences,

    Experiential knowledge base boogie line tenses,

    Learn diff’ equations from a trip to the movies,

    Oh, gentle muse with the cauldron,

    Shine your light, shine, illuminate upon your apron,

    Love for all and all for love allmen

    Human wedded human below as above,

    Be true man, be true man, be human loved dove

    Matter made of words via minds code lobel,

    Get into the sing song sung globe noble turntable tribe tingle 

    Bird solo angle, tone equi-rectangle tickle down town trickle,

    Take the bucky ball and dribble to my symbol,

    Its simple, sweet cherub of beauty with the dimple,

    Flat edges with a crimple, top hat topology thought nimble,

    Uber positioned using cosmic triggernometry thimble

    You dig, you will, both the red and blue pill

    Both and more multi logo-motifs,

    information locus pocus, goddess help us,

    Gather guts wit and focus,

    Like a swarm of genesis locusts, 

    Like a warm hug from the logos,

    No force can break us,

    Our love is what takes us away in a nexus,

    From crown to toe to solar plexus,

    Oh plasticity gods please flex us,

    Lead us not into oil temptation in Texas,

    They avoid paying their taxes, use disasters like taxis,

    To slip from ship to ship to not give a shit,

    Psychopath capital, at some others expense,

    Slave master general of the Trump Klux Klan at the fence,

    Time to step up, not much time left to lose,

    Or else a thousand year tech reichwing heil breaks loose

  • FIENDISH PLOTS (RAW thought of the Month)

     FIENDISH PLOTS
    21 SHa`baan 1422 A.H.
    Fu who?
    — THE FIENDISH PLOT OF DR. FU MANCHU 
    Last night I looked at THE FIENDISH PLOT OF DR. FU MANCHU on TV, partly because it starred Peter Sellers as both Dr. Fu and his enemy Nayland Smith of Scotland Yard, and partly because I wanted to compare the epic battle between Fu and Smith with the current rumble between Dubya and Osama bin Laden.
    I have long regarded Dr Fu as both archetype and stereotype — the incarnation of British fear of Oriental revenge for imperialist invasions. Osama fits that role very well indeed, and the Dubya/Smith parallel came across with almost synchronistic shock:
    “The difference between Fu and me,” Smith sez, “is that I’m Good and he’s Evil.”
    Have Dubya’s speech-writers read the original Fu novels or just seen this film?
    Unlike the novels, the film does not portray Dr Fu as driven by “motiveless malignancy” [like Dubya explaining Osama: “He is a man who is an evil man.”] On the contrary, Fu has a personal grudge we can understand: as a boy he had to work in his father’s laundry at Eton, and starching all those white collars drove him bonkers. That makes more sense to me as a novelist than the unmotivelated malice of Osama, as portrayed by Dubya, CNN and the other corporate spin doctors.
    Fear not, O true believers: the film didn’t mention imperialism, any more than the novels — or Dubya’s speech-writers.
    Meanwhile, another of my favorite villians has resurfaced:
    THE FIENDISH PLOT OF MING THE MERCILESS
    Adapted from the Irish Times 5 Nov 2001
    The cannabis campaigner, “Ming the Merciless”, has been arrested in Dublin this afternoon in connection with posting what is believed to be cannabis too close to 300 politicians and journalists.
    He was detained while attempting to hand deliver a potted cannabis plant to the offices of a senior Government Minister,and taken to Pearse Street Garda station where he is being held under Section 4 of the Criminal Justice Act.
    Earlier today, several letters containing what is believed to be cannabis and addressed to politicians at their offices were discovered by officials checking the post following recent anthrax scares.
    “Ming the Merciless”, whose real name is Luke Flanagan from County Roscommon, is a well-known campaigner for the legalisation of cannabis. He ran in Galway West on a legalise cannabis ticket during the 1997 general election and also ran on the same platform in the European Parliamentary elections in the constituency of Connacht-Ulster.
    Every country gets the villians it deserves. And as Joyce would say, there’s lots of fun in Flanagan’s work.