Anonymous Antagonists

Singularity! SINGULARITY!

2009-04-04T18:57:00.000-07:00

More evidence that we have arrived in the pre-singularity phase.....
New Scientist once again gives a story that indicates that Computers are being delegated more and more of the knuts and bolts of society..... WAR. The title says it all.
Full text of article @ http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn17332-plan-to-teach-military-robots-the-rules-of-war.html

Evidence of Impending Singularity?

Robot scientist makes discoveries without human help
by Kurt Kleiner in New Scientist Magazine
A robot scientist that can generate its own hypotheses and run experiments to test them has made its first real scientific discoveries. Dubbed Adam, the robot is the handiwork of researchers at Aberystwyth University and the University of Cambridge in the UK. All by itself it discovered new functions for a number of genes in Saccharomyces cerevisiae, aka brewer's yeast.

Full text of article @ http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn16890-robot-scientist-makes-discoveries-without-human-help.html

Some background

The Coming Technological Singularity:
by Vernor Vinge presented to NASA
Abstract

Within thirty years, we will have the technological means to create superhuman intelligence. Shortly after, the human era will be ended. Is such progress avoidable? If not to be avoided, can events be guided so that we may survive? These questions are investigated. Some possible answers (and some further dangers) are presented.

Full text of article @ http://www-rohan.sdsu.edu/faculty/vinge/misc/singularity.html

A letter to an angry god

2009-02-26T22:20:00.000-08:00

God said "Stop asking so many questions, believe only in me and stop doubting, be loyal to the church, and stop being such a butthead to your fellow humans, because if you dont we are going to have to re-evaluate our relationship."

- I am now and always will be full of questions.
- Because the answers to these questions are so few and far between I am also full of doubt.
- My loyalty must be earned it will not be given freely.
-An unflinching faith in a being who does not have a corporeal form is as dangerous a practice as believing in an ordinary man or woman of clay.
- The violence, greed, and heartlessness displayed by my fellow humans is an expression of the compounded frustrations of the present added on to the pains of the past both created by trying to overcome a bad design.

In responce to another CJ posting on his site.

There is in the dust

2009-01-24T22:47:00.000-08:00

There is in the dust,
of our more active days,
words left unsaid,
I find them by listening,
to the voices,
of distant friends,
over electric presses,
that never stop.

There is always one of the blogging multitude that has the right word to waken what is for the moment sleeping.
Peace

Wilderness Disease

2009-01-12T21:07:00.000-08:00

Concrete skies,
Are all she sees,
She has,
A wilderness disease,
She’s caught,
On the horns,
Of a dilemma.
She has,
A wilderness disease,
Concrete skies,
Are all she sees,

She is a wilderness child
And these,
Soda pop canyons,
Are about to,
Drive her wild,
Concrete skies,
All she sees,
She has,
A wilderness disease,

The world knows
Her wilderness soul’s
Ultimate goal’s,
To embrace,
Life,
Completely,
Before,
The light goes out.

All she sees,
Are concrete skies,
She is wilderness wise
And concrete skies,
Are all she sees,
She has,
A wilderness disease.

Living Color

2008-12-03T21:04:00.000-08:00

The painfully gained palette of,
a perspective's spectrum paints,
a sad sunset behind lonely trees.
The night's cold caresses chill
and down I lay in remembrance still
and lose myself by bleak degrees.

I wrote this in responce to "Wednesday" a poem by Concrete Jesus a fellow blogger

CJ's site

Future Framed

2008-12-01T22:30:00.000-08:00

Nights
Stained
With
An apologetic darkness
Hearts
Pained
With
The senses being helpless
Future
Framed
By those
Captured
In hideous madness
Souls
Trained
To ignore and deny
A very deep sadness.

A bullet does not change an enemy into a friend it ends him and the chance forever.

Thank you Gulnaz, the line "Night stained by apologetic darkness," woke up my muse for a moment.
peace

Broken Images

2008-10-12T10:35:00.000-07:00

Pieces of a broken mirror
give broken images
but each
piece is perspective
in and of itself.
the hardest part is context
a red cloth becomes
a pile of saffron or
the blood on a bandage or
a stain from yesterdays cherry pie...

Broken images
reflected
lost
and then found again.
Does the eye see it
as many pieces of the world scattered or
as the world reflected in many windows shattered or
many makeup mirrors held in many soft smooth hands
what use a broken mirror's melted sands.

What is art but
the view
from the artist's shard
harmonic reflections
disonant deflections
shadow deceptions
and pieces, pieces, pieces.

I think sometimes that broken images
can show more than a crystal clear
photo.

Falling into life

2008-10-12T10:25:00.000-07:00

The speed at which the years pass can become frightening.
Life
is like jumping off
a very very large building
First the fear of flying
then joyous abandon
to the freedom of free fall
then the casual consideration
of
the possibility
of the ground,
and then finally
the absolute certainty
of the ground's
inevitability.

When I die I hope that I get a glimpse of the title of the booklet of me.

Whoa now

2008-10-09T21:44:00.000-07:00

Embodied energy, embodied cost
we must embody
responsability
for what is lost.
We must cease
defining our relationship with the universe
as one of predator to prey
Man consumes everything he touches
from dirt, guano, shark fin soup,
rocks
if it can be priced
it too
can and will be thrown in the pots
Predators that
are too sucessful
are soon extinct
peace

Nested garden?

2008-10-04T21:21:00.000-07:00

When I was a young man just old enough to ask interesting questions my father told me, " Life is like a garden and when we are young the garden is a small one contained safely behind the warm walls of our parents and our family and as we age these walls are replaced by the walls of our friendships and as we age further our jobs become the walls and at the final stages of our life our mortality becomes the walls.
I am glad I have seen some of the garden.

More on perspective

2008-10-03T20:18:00.000-07:00

The great writer finds the nut of that perfect sentence, paragraph, or story within their past's pleasures and pains whether real or imagined. It really is the writer that does the writing. We the reader know that the author is all of their characters, all of their hearts, all of their fists, caresses, and kisses, all of their skinned knees and bandaging hands because it is the author who writes it, creates it, forms it from that pallatte of their soul, palettes of many colors or not.

Where are your words?

2008-09-14T22:50:00.000-07:00

A place in my heart
is bleeding
for the words of a friend
I am needing

This canvas of life
we all travel
without her words
will unravel
to a
static and stale
crumpled, dull and pale
ticket
used and forgetten
in the pocket of a sport coat
at the lost and found.

We are missing you!

Random kindness

2008-07-14T20:27:00.000-07:00

Time can be
As much
A friend
As critic.

Don't regret mistakes own them.
Don't believe the lies you tell yourself.
Don't fear endings for they are in-fact beginnings in disguise.
Don't hold on to memories for too long for they can end your living.
Don't ever miss a good sunset or sunrise for they the tracks of the tears of creation
Remember who you are and give yourself a hug.
peace

I knows

2008-05-17T22:52:00.000-07:00

The animal hunger of lust
where egos and hearts must
either join together
in a snarled and sweaty froth
or run from one another
like a post, windstorm, and cloth

One must not fool with mother nature!
It needs more.. but it is a start

Alone in beauty

2008-04-28T22:07:00.000-07:00

Alone in beauty she walks
A hallway lit with her reflection
She wants to see herself
Without
a mirrors deception
She takes a pen
And jabs it in
To her heart and begins to write

Beauty dances

2008-03-12T23:27:00.000-07:00

I hope no one
frightens away
these beautiful and delicate butterfly's prancing
the flowers softly droop under their leggy dancing
my fascinated heart's gamboling from glancing
at life love without pretense

to those who would forget
what life love is
love life it is not
remember when
you ran in the rain
and smiled
for you knew not

Quiet silence

2008-02-20T23:12:00.000-08:00

Body as foreign country,
landless,
the sounds of sirens,
voices in the dazed,
darkness,
of my missingness,
bones numbed to a stillness,
a
silenced
quietness

in response to I :)

On beauty and posterity

2008-02-11T16:09:00.000-08:00

I would write a poem to beauty
but
a soul is of the surface
not
life is much more magical
and comical and tragical
:)
The hope
when we are gray
and youth has gone it's way
that
the mirror will tell a tale
of a fully balanced scale
on skin lines of truth
not scars of lost youth
Aging is not a slow bleed but a ripening.

A Sign of the Times?

2007-11-26T10:30:00.000-08:00

I found this while wandering San Francisco's streets the other day.

Furies

2007-08-27T22:32:00.001-07:00

I recall a dream I had when I was very, very young, I think I was maybe five or six years old. Voluntarily I allowed myself to be locked up tight into a steel box just barely big enough for me. This box had no window, holes for air, light, or sound to penetrate, it had no padding, I entered it with a full expectation I would lose my mind while in it.
This dream was intensely lucid and I remember that I did lose my mind while in that box. I remember it felt as if I were two people, one was going through the experience while the other was taking notes. When I awoke the next morning I was so tired and worn out that I scared my folks so much that they kept me home for the day.
Now I know that this dream was just a dream, but when I listened to {I}’s Furies post, I couldn’t help but consider what terrible intensity lurks in the dark recesses of our frail human condition.

A rain dance

2007-08-08T21:01:00.000-07:00

Rain, rain come today,
and fall, and wash,
the dust away,
bring a drink,
a soothing swallow,
so that I can speak,
and the goats can wallow,
and crops can grow,
and all can eat,
bread made from,
this hot,
and too dry,
summer's wheat.

A responce to a friends need for rain, if I had the power that rain would arrive on schedule.

Unfinished Reflection

2007-07-20T21:04:00.000-07:00

Awoke
to scattered thoughts of destiny
an unavoidable singularity
to in-spin-infinitely
time, space, substance and soul?
to stand at the pass, hold the last bridge,
ridden perhaps by
one of the four
horseman of the Apocalypse
sounds a little too heroic-
perhaps just a product of the times
going vegan, walking and riding and swearing off cars
sounds a little too Birkenstock and Prius-
maybe perhaps even
the omnipotent producer
of the times
through angular momentum, creativity, and causality
Sounds a little too
and then
Destiny
Singularity
there is only one center
and that my friend is you
and you
and you
and you

It is all about perspective, right?

Electric Friend

2007-06-16T21:07:00.000-07:00

I miss I
mirror for my soul to find reflection
words as feast
to nourish this beast
of untamed intellect
I found I
some years ago
while travelling a lonely road
although I know we are seperate
and distinct individuals never destined to meet
in meat form
there is a subtle connection
where the words of one
call from my soul

Perspective my butt!
get back to punching the keys kiddo!

Painful Memories

2007-05-15T16:43:00.000-07:00

When the dusts of roads traveled
become your clothes
and the path that you walk is
more of thorns than rose
the pain of those
memories I suppose
are the signposts
to lead
you back
to you

And the sidewalk asks

2006-12-11T22:37:00.000-08:00

What does Benjamin cross,
The distance of four-
blocks for?
Something that would warm his cool?
Does he have spirit-visions,
Of touching that glow of hope,
Or,
Is he excited at the prospect,
Of,
Being present at its bloody sacrifice.
This asked by the sidewalk,
Asked of the ghosts,
Of hopes,
Who's glows have been dulled on his pavement.