Friday, June 1, 2012


Matrix Pool

Biobot Pigeonhole

Sitting near the screen to theNetwork, she is urged by a force that gives succor to her compatibility.

A missing legacy from  long-fallen empires suddenly appears on her monitor. It's from a distance (from within theJungle?), sounding in soft, repetitive  murmurs as if a broken-record message from a witless, brokenhearted writer, a message crystalized on a dream. 

It is today's very first thought, even today's first collection of thoughts, and suddenly, they appear as a racy premier of the purely untied masses (yes, at one time, united) and now, apologetically untitled:

There is no stopping the realm of nurture from performing its ritual signature feeding frenzy on obsession. 

Yes, the categories of big data continue to collect, even during this slow period (categories seldom appear more than once--each shows itself with pure gist of apologist for theNetwork's ongoing aggregators of no go). 

She will place it in a category of anthropological apologist, most likely. 

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