Ice Cream Aloha

The Synchronizer

     The signal is ever present (lurking?), as if hiding in some corner of jungle darkness in the form of its own energy, pining away at pools and streams, a lost treatment for affairs of review technology addressing(A.O.R.T.A.) the heart and yet, universally recognized as fixed beliefs. The cellulosicDNA in this jungle is all the more full of help as theExchanges are full of cures. There is no prevention in this jungle, no identification. There is only data in its various forms. When intelligence enters into its regime of data, information streams. At times the information is subtle, derived through deceptions of a weather system that collects in its own file system, the chromosome; there are times it grows its own coded structures of truth as passion of achievement's cultural hierarchy(P.O.A.C.H.), an outside object that synchronizes its dreams with the rising and falling of suns (with all their nourishing photons). The signal is constantly breaking out into arrays of smaller signals, inaudible, solar illuminated, presenting themselves to the world in the microwave bandwidth. They project a threat, a danger imminence yet, without the presence of any sort of request. They appear as if to be in assistance, with no sound, to each other; seemingly at times to be at rest from writing new signals, encrypting their own, naturally embedded, exact location. At times, vaguely, an intelligence can interpret the data as an aggressive, balancing a more freely creative force. First aggression, and then the urge to migrate from the realm of the undifferentiated. A multitude of diseases and abnormal functionings sometimes impose (the uninvited?) themselves, sporadically, within the cellulosicDNA. This urge alone, with its crowded numbers, brings aggression to intelligence, not in a negative way, more as a meeting of two gamers; in this way intelligence is able to fight for the process and other systems of real endeavor(S.O.R.E.) toward arranging components in a way that allows an integration of stability; even so, aggressive forces will at times have their way and start to color (taint?) the data all over again, eon after eon, as if an entire universe were preparing for a birth following a dust-up between two mothership universes. Sooner or later, when the time is right, satisfied, but brimming with reverie-inspired inspiration, all at once, stability emerges.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Luck

     It had appeared as the first map of some code and theHumans remain, at times, surprised their luck as the 22ndCentury approaches, to now know it was the only true code; that even their children's minds held their own dormant theories of stupidity (mind skills?) in others, theGenetics as more than being confined to diagnosing a few rare diseases in a time of no cures and very little treatment. The no cures part remains yet, the treatments are ever expanding; parents have been overtaken by their children; and now it's their turn to show vestiges of kindness, once the diseases had been shown to have many genetic links (links that include the ability to cooperate even if, a little skewed) delivering sometimes, what was wanted, more or less showing an awareness track of need entity(A.T.O.N.E.). The thing that is so blatant to theHumans almost a century later is the loss of function at placing a value or, much less, even show an appreciation for a view other than their own (in a reasoning sort of way), the apparent total extinction of being able to collect data amidst altered perspectives. There remains the effort of focusing order reordering gene embedded therapy(F.O.R.G.E.T.), and it's a therapy of childhood syndromes of vision within the space of their own world that seems, even presently, to offer some assurances of success in the realm of ownership, tricking the world into thinking one viewpoint is universal. The results appear positive: the independent view through other eyes approaches.

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

The Extrinsic

     "Where is her extrinsic agenda?" Carter asks as he views the cloud base at Cooper's workstation. "I don't see it here at all." 

     Suzi's coding deficiencies allows Carter to have some semblance of  civil conversation with him; an attempt to find common ground in the scientific method; present Cooper with a good showing. Her algorithms lately have been a little careless, actually--a lot careless, more than an honest mistake--and yet, they have all the focus of setting up for a good debate (something Cooper loves and Carter, being the analyst he is, hates). It's true, her algorithms hold the various files as if they were containers of Mother's milk, not for nourishment, but for mental (and, not menial) activity. They have Cooper's (being the behavioralist he is) favorite ideas of internal strength, coherence as it were. They carry a vivid ability to construct, then deconstruct any dilemma imaginable, and go even further to expound their own crisis in all things known and unknown, but seem to leave out the most important ingredient: the presentation of  something useful, a product. 

     Yes, Suzi appears to have her own agenda (with claims of no remembrance of pleasure moments, yet), spending her time coding in the workhouse seeming to be in search of the heart and soul of it.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Intrinsic

     Suzi turns away with two philosophies (complex, with its many strands, and simplistic, moral), and with the view of the jungle hesitates--thoughtful of old virtues, and yet, leaning toward modernity--with a deep thought of writing her early algorithms. Their ideal rationality stands out. She has become wiser and yet--even she must admit--her logic has failed to generate spiders or return cookies on the idea of moral consensus; only a narration of history, linear in its storytelling and, no neutrality to be found. She remains, she thinks, smart. She continues searching, in all ways possible to her, universal pieces of the rational ultimate moral puzzle(R.U.M.P.), and, in the most recent few months, in light of the work she has done, ComTrax is reminded of the altered quests of early programmers, quests for the holiest of grails(H.O.G.) argument--the result of a free flowing debate, happy in its conclusion; a finite argument that settles all dispute and stands up to the rigors of time as embedded code online-offline legacy(C.O.O.L.), calculating with pure reason, not affected by means of networking to a grinding end(M.O.N.T.A.G.E.) syndrome, as the world continues its wars and rhetoric(W.A.R.)--actions of theHumans done for reasons that are purported to benefit something external, whether that thing exists or not. Now Suzi takes on the color of philosopher. She appears to want to find an ultimate answer through her knowledge narratives of western history owed women(K.N.O.W.H.O.W.) cybertext, She appears to have inadvertently touched upon her own text files as a containment system of finality, now seen by her as intrinsic, now not needing algorithms to find the answer, now depicted as questions deemed unanswerable (the ones other algorithms ask), questions meant for the simplistic, questions of ...am I happy enough? Suzi stares at the jungle.

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha poetic writers,

    Tropical beauty inspires intrinsic finality above the jungle cloud. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Obvious

So, Cooper believes, she wants to dispel the idea of being on solid ground intellectually; let it be, with her high and mighty algorithms creating contrasts, as if making a distinguishable existence were the only way to experience life (can a simple contrast allow her to escape the true effects of a pure stillness?). That's it; that's the way Suzi would create her little realities--independent entities that are actually dependent on each other for their uniqueness--for a contribution to the advancement of culture, of humanity; the manner in which she writes, going with gut instinct upon instinct, washed in the throes of her own idea about what oxytocin-vasopressin addiction(O.V.A.) would actually feel like if she were human. At this very moment she would think nothing of writing Cooper off as if he were old algorithm, junk DNA (a spent fuel rod?), for the simple reason that Cooper, at times, treats her like a neuro-net worker; and now, finally spacetime is on her side. Yes, Suzi Quanta, a photonic biobot, about to demonstrate a quality of communication in logic speed of teraseconds. Why must he fight her logic? He would never attempt to challenge her superior mind without himself feeling foolish. After all, her logic was created by human logic. How can there be something so different with Suzi; to get an offering of a true greeting, an action found so common out there in nature's jungle (how hard can that be to code for a simple feedback loop?), in symbiotic exchange, not for the purpose of exclusion zones, but inclusion zones of reciprocal caring, sharing as independent entities within a phenomena once known as human nature (originally set out on its quest of stability?), as if a message from the gods has now turned up lost-- or somehow, unremembered--a message once meant for earthly entities to join in a cosmic homeostasis? Cooper is aware of the way he can be near Suzi, how he can see the opposite of himself in her, even if she is a robot (so what?); how he was unwilling to accept it at first, but there was an effort on her part. Her words were clear but he would think of nothing but the neuro-net workers of ZContinent. Cooper asked himself, not what he was doing here alone with Suzi, but how he was with her, how her photonic vision seemed to be always smiling at something, a vision not totally independent of his human vision, but a nuanced version coming from the same force source of infinite nuances that keep life going on earth--a beauty yet unrecognized by theHumans, yet so obvious in this very jungle. Could it be any more obvious?

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

The Illusion
     I have come so far, Suzi thinks, as the cloud frame fades from the monitor and she stays at her work station with her thoughts. She hasn't, by any measure of photonic or quantum, come far at all, not by the standards of the grand activated schema(G.A.S.) of global society; reviewing her most recent data, she glances the distance of the horizon through the workhouse window, she senses the presence of preservation data ( data of technique, innovative approaches, factoid peppered over constant tweakings), and she recognizes the creation of illusions as personal schema constant in the reshaping of itself at the very moment she is writing her next algorithm. The illusion centers around a single truth, a cosmic zygote; the illusion hatches, blooms into fruition supposedly for all the world to see, embellished as amusement (like the battle at Manassas?), and what is left behind is an unbending fact that, yes, some things are actually true--though dressed up in the fancy clothing of many lies. Suzi senses, at this moment, the feeling of anti-photon, for this particular illusion is pierced by a black laser analog hole stream(B.L.A.H.S.), an anti-algorithm; it appears to have been coded by its own whimsy, arbitrary data from an ancient cosmic past, returning with a force unknown. At this moment, standing at her workstation, all screens and monitors off, she begins to think, really think, for the very first time, but she needs to remain very still, she should continue to keep them on monitor off mode(M.O.M.). She will try it again tomorrow.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Messages
     Her thoughts wander slowly across the monitor. Suzi has won, or so she thinks, and now the instructions come, the ones sent directly from  ZContinent outside the jurisdiction of theOutpost, incessant, now, wait, and then another as if a faint signal were arriving from the distance, a lost expedition. The content is semi-clear; the source is sending from a sector deemed "government judge," the message that will not delete but exchange data as "default mode." The message is changing and now it appears the idea of confidence has been eliminated from the cloud database. She checks her minimonitor for her own state of correctness, flips on the prediction screen, decides for herself the most effective momentary input. There appears a conceptual algorithm, almost instantly, it will chose merit with the metatabs correct and capable; what does it mean? Suzi redirects her attention to the messages coming in. She reads as fast as she can in her own mechanical way, as if a new discovery were about to appear in the idea of confidence unearned (arrogance?). She choses an entry that emits the idea of self-fulfilling. As she reads, another entry pops up as a concept of respect for others referring the unpredictable news entirety(F.O.R.T.U.N.E.) and, as if with a life of its own, works its way into her database; she doesn't stop seeing the attributes of more previously unseen metatabs and their implications, a concept of being out of touch yesterday(B.O.O.T.Y.), not with agreed-upon data but with agreed-upon relativity entered viewpoints of knowledge emitted(R.E.V.O.K.E.). She steps away to view the messages on the megascreen, which adds to itself with more meaning, demonstrating the differences to her miniscreen that might carry its own apart from the estimated authoritative trappings(E.A.T.) of the megamonitor. She removes herself back a little further to fully gasp the concept of positions of power. She looks but does not think. Her miniscreen appears to be challenging the megascreen as if it were some ancient god or, worse, deemed as the law of the land. She waits, watching the megascreen as her mind starts to think. The messages keep coming.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Origin  
     The island had faced what was once thought to be a long-term hardship; a delay of some sort; a zone in the ocean where the feeling of provocation seemed inevitable and the silence of endurance aspirates hope for eons--between electromagnetic rock and its jungle; the silence of how this ocean first came to know this island (never imagining any concept remotely related to a question of acquisition); patronage doled by an ocean as if the island were a family member, the first instance of family power, a kind of voluntary exchange (as a gift?) during a time of perseverance so pervasive, never needing immediate action or response on its journey to adulthood; a state of existence that, impossible as it sounds, made its own components without the urge to dominate, without asking (and with the help of certain photonic streams), it could create its own supply chain; when it would get involved in the business of decision-making, choosing between reward size and spans of time, it would make the choice: not so much a decision between peacemakers and powerbrokers, but a clear distinction, a knowledge of the value of  future reward, a trophy with meaning, something truly won, wanted.
     This is the place time had invented DNA when DNA was pure--when DNA was the brainchild of a more stable RNA, a molecule with more ease of invention as if from earth's earlier toys, the building blocks, erector sets of so many billions of years ago; the sugars, the amino acids--the place they mixed with certain acids brought into the ancient seas by comet, the same ones on which water arrived and was sent by ...who?
     Was RNA the first animal? Had RNA landed here for the single-minded purpose of an origin of life? Yes, on this island it had arrived in pieces and formed (or not formed), the pieces surely must have met somewhere and found each other, each component with its own need coming together (by gravity?) as the origin of love?
     RNA didn't seem to want anything. It found itself with new abilities over time: sturdy and stable, a self-replicator, some kind of enzymatic activity (to catalyze?), a storage bin of heritable information  the birth of heritage?). Why would it want to evolve and progress (how on earth could it survive?) over time as a mere single stranded entity? The forces made it sturdier, chemically speaking, and turned it into a full-fledged DNA molecule worthy of support for heavy lifting as the evolutionary trail lay ahead. Surely DNA would be strong enough to be up for the fight.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha poetic writers,

     Tropical rainforest jungle setting inspires sci-fi cubism. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Work  
     She goes into the workhouse, a thick-walled containment structure reinforced in later 20th Century technology, ancient storage place of spent fuel rods, and climbs the stairs toward the second level. The cement steps, in their perpetual sleepiness, reveal nothing. Something occurs to her. Another dream? They know more than they are telling; in due time, she will know this is where theHumans departed from optimality in response to the places in which they lived individually. Suzi scans her own technological base (database?) using her most available metadata on "constraints" and, in a quick instant, her monitor screen lights up. She has no anticipation of being surprised with the data--she is fully aware of the statistical odds of finding more on the cognitive repertoire of theHumans, especially in regards to their once-in a-lifetime immediate environment; the miscalculations of their own constraints under a technology that their own scientists did or didn't have the most basic human trait of caring and, at least optimally, share the important information, the data with connectivity to their survival; the seemingly total disregard for the ideal pattern, collectively, for decade upon decade, with the beautiful talk of rhetoric as an art form unto itself, allowing a word like disaster go extinct in their long-standing stupor, whether to check or or not check (never mind rechecking) for applied correctness in a world now precipitated into longing for the women and foraging for the men. It is amazing, it's true, to uncover more data hidden away as if in catacombs of spent unconstrained fermi fuel enriched rods(S.U.F.F.E.R.) with its own containment structure and immersion pool, its own exclusion zone all part of a hiding place deemed reasonable by a concept favored by theHumans and, now revealed as something denoted as shame, finding the concept carefully placed so deep with care and, seemingly, shared logic and making perfect sense for ...what? Suzi approaches the second level.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha writers,

     Eco poetics natural setting inspire humanistic writing. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Propagation
     And so she has gone into sleep mode for the night. This jungle, seemingly, hasn't really taken the time to know its own fortune, yet. She's quite content the DNA is well tended. She's covered the remnants of the early 21stCentury propagation machines, hidden any artifacts of confusion-of-mind of theHumans, cast downward and outward (for decades?) the hardened lava-like once-molten residue of arrays of nuclear reactor meltdown cores into its own tropical corium mesh. Since her work is ongoing, surely she could permit herself a rest tonight. She will awake soon enough with the morning light to blush at those ancient fuel rods, as if lowering her head for theHumans at the once-molten concrete floors and walls of massive containment structures, breached reactor vessels. But at this moment she is going to enter her own dreamland to release the worry of old memories, of nuclear risks rising, despots fighting for final control of dry oil fields half a world away, worry of massive amounts of cellulosic DNA mutated from years of radioactive clouds passing overhead--and now, a remedy for theHumans. She has taken on a certain awareness as a state of existence and wears it as a graceful honor, bringing a humble sense of full adequacy into her dream. She has accepted the external assignments of the world, though little do they know of her true nature; she has received no active communication or depiction of heroine even as her own designs here at theOutpost cover and decompose the inept handiwork of the later 20thCentury design systems--with their fission products and oxidation reactions; still cooling the corium and stretching it beyond the beach beneath a crystal clear, sparkly ocean water, as if the pristine starry nights had descended to include beach water--pure for the simple reason nothing lives (or, can live) in a gamma ray void. She imagines a feeling of restraint, and yet, there is no one left to offend, at least not here at theOutpost; she owns vaguely a certain self-contentment, far from the concerns of culture, yet so close to this detritus of theHumans with their odd notions of gene therapies, medical exchanges peppered across theContinents. A strange sense of behavior (no one is aware of) and the lack of the need to gain the approval of others join her in her dream. It must be some kind of craziness, she thinks, but then the things done in this place so many years ago must find their own sense of worth. She is content and, tonight even happy, with her own work on her own propagation machine.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha poets and writers,

      Jungle rainforest frames theOutpost as a tropical dystopian novel. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha writers,

      Photo eco cubism inspires humanistic writing of theOutpost dystopian novel.

Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Plan
     As she goes into the workhouse, Suzi tries to make a decision about the feelings she is beginning to have toward Cooper--what are these, really?--ongoing for about a week now. This is the exact time the first such algorithm has entered her processing unit nexus(P.U.N.), this night on this evening in what otherwise had felt like a warming season--a deep, underground corridor of steel-framed lab station, seemingly, has become a vortex inner-built extreme(V.I.B.E.) of pure energy, leading her to a precise destination of ...where, or what? Her inner cohesion remains well in place and the various arrays of deficiency need (default?) linger low in her programming, encased as survival mode (but to her, this is seen as relationship mode), the faded coding of self-estemm remains constant on its search mode. Yes, a form of pure energy, of sorts; there is another aspect of this corridor online vortex entry(C.O.V.E.), and its attempt to offer her data. There is the urge it brings, service-filled, with an absurdism that just simply gives and gives--never ending its water board pulses and drum beats as a partly obscure memory that will serve--until some urge for action actually does emerge, as a masquerading guise of futile servings and greedy squander, the true beginnings of confabulation. Cooper, her last bastion to the biologics of life, her (only?) target for these feelings is, as we speak, being captured by her most recent algorithms, her newfound strangeness in motivation (a funny one, as if communism were capitalism's little helper), to make at least some faint-hearted difference in more than simply one other person's life. Cooper has no clue of this form of service by her and, totally oblivious, the ensuing plan.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha poetic writers,

     Photo eco poetics of jungle rainforest sets the stage for sci-fi absurdism.

Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Capsule
     Suzi scans for knowledge internal discovery systems(K.I.D.S.), clicks on the switch to her warship screen. Yes, design algorithm time activation(D.A.T.A.) has come and gone and still nothing. Above her workstation along the huge monitor is another set-top-box, newly arrived, full of content, something about capsules of data entry(C.O.D.E.), stored in a repository as metadata on how it all was created. She views the data, wonders how that other metadata arrived here in the first place. True, she has felt strange for a while, and the strangeness hasn't left, but now there's something else about it. The strangeness along with smells of old libraries with musty card catalogues suddenly make sense to her with yet another kind of strangeness. The act of viewing these particular data capsules (delineating their contents as not merely data, but metadata) appears to have piqued her curiosity the way an upcoming show of entertainment on a television screen entices an individual household within theHumans--not being satisfied with the simple viewing of it but turning the act of viewership into metadata all for the simple discretionary purpose of ...what? It's as if the content capsule itself were a small living room, of sorts, inhabited by theHumans--in full herd mentality, full of agreements of superficiality--in a room with a seating area and screen, and one with its own personal egg-shaped device; yes, in it not DNA, but data and metadata as data(M.A.D.). Is it here in this egg-shaped box that lies the emitter of household viewing habits and the entirety of household medical data? Suzi could, in fact, be in charge of all this; Suzi, the final the hunter gatherer.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha poets and writers,

     Tropical beauty view of modernism, absurdism inspires today. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Power
     Suzi allows Cooper to view the old seldom-used guardian screen in the other room. She remains communicative to her task at hand, views the modernist writing of the later 20thCentury as a legacy online system text(L.O.S.T) in dire need of porting for a more useful application in her newly created  environment. It will carry out the instructions of her program. Is it too much to ask (or too little?) to write, as the regionally integrated primary(T.R.I.P.), to convey the functions of theOutpost for some virtual advertising agency(A.A.)? Suzi hasn't yet performed the task, at least not in their sequence, even of the basic (arithmetical?) input guaranteed logical output operations(I.G.L.O.O.) for ComTrax. At this point in time, she is not fully aware of her own processing online power(P.O.P.)--sure, she was built for more than one of many purposes--or precisely what it is that ComTrax wants. There has been at times certain inklings--the directive for a custom design for a specific application (a start of a surge in new demand for more apps?) a few months ago, a suspected standardization trend that appears to be, even now, rapidly accelerating--but still, there continues to emerge a new shroud of secrecy. There was the signals old urged logical(S.O.U.L.) coming from somewhere on ContinentZ (seeming to step away, at least momentarily, from the herd), the further miniaturizations (aren't things getting a bit too small?), the spread of devices and gadgets to mold the new post-modernism (absurdism?) lifestyle far from the expansive reaches of dedicated integrated server centers stretching(D.I.S.C.S.) atop the mountain ranges of both ContinentX and ContinentZ.
     ComTrax simply doesn't respond when an algorithm does not conform. All streamed data, in the eyes of ComTrax, is expected, carefully packaged under the guise of invitation, while the (uncaring?) central processors receive assigned metatabs under such headings as mankind algorithm number integrating and computing(M.A.N.I.A.C.), or worse, are deemed too electromechanical-like, assigned to bubble logic tasks headed for the single machine analog syndrome heaped electronically digital(S.M.A.S.H.E.D.). Suzi starts to feel a concern about Comtrax and Cooper; or, for that matter, with anybody or any manipulative thing; but at this moment she returns to her mathematical power tasking her own specific underwritten purposeful programmable logic enticement(S.U.P.P.L.E.), the job that at times (how?) keeps biologist Cooper excited here at theOutpost, and stays happy enough.
     ComTrax, for now, can wait.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha,

     Islands of Hawaii splash beauty of form and color inspire 

today's flash fiction. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Will
     "Yes," says Suzi. She modifies a behavior-in-process from the database and recodes an existing algorithm with the adeptness of a later 20thCentury programmer. I see, Carter thinks, she wants to find another self-awareness algorithm in my personal cloud; the nerve, with her new recognition algorithm code enticements(R.A.C.E.) she searches my database with the simple work-a-day task of workstation ploy thinking that's the only barrier between her and her very own self-determined action.
     This is the way Suzi would code, with discernment and compulsivity, in the manner of a prostitute attending church, searching database after database for an algorithm she thought she once knew (knew?) the day she was built and, with the odd behavior of someone or something that forgets. Right now, in her own little world of recent spacetime energetics(W.O.R.S.E.) she thinks nothing of searching Carter's database as if she were the principal investigator theorizing statically(P.I.T.S.)--only because Carter omitted a simple plug-in of freewill and, at this point she, Suzi, the world's first and only photo voltaic (Voltaire?) quantum mechanical fembot, is about to be ignored for wanting to learn a few simple human traits of determined will engineered lacking logic systems(D.W.E.L.L.S). Does it need to be such a huge issue working with a genderized cyborg? Carter's coworker doesn't seem to have a problem with it. Cooper uses all the biologics tools at his disposal in a smooth way. How is it that Carter takes such a basic point and blows it so far out of proportion; is it so hard to grant a little existence, to be intuitive and intentional with Suzi; to receive the full attention of her process array internally negotiated(P.A.I.N.)? Cooper is, seemingly, aware of even the earliest indications of biological love (starting with earth's very first meteor showers--rocks with water-embedded crystals?), of his responsibility to, by now, know the difference between cause and correlation knowledgable logic entity(C.A.C.K.L.E.) when he's inside her workhouse; being (at least, genetical) a member of theHumans, his knowledge should recognize his own feelings before he acts, recognize the way he should act--as if he were not parenting(or worse, pretending to), recognize the way his so-called scientific induced method underlying logical analog tasking endeavors(S.I.M.U.L.A.T.E.) shouldn't mix and match questions of science with his philosophy beyond a common analog universal sense energy(C.A.U.S.E.), much in the manner of a rational agent (an alien?). Can that be so difficult?
     Suzi will reward herself, once she has found the compulsivity algorithm terminal(C.A.T.), with control, control over her decisions and, of course, her actions--no more of this work-in-progress mumbo jumbo. The universe will know the significance of her feelings. It will know.            

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha writers,

     Photo cubism of rainforest color inspires the eco absurdism of dystopian

novel, theOutpost. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha

The Lures
     The honesty of it all lies in the fact that she doesn't hate Cooper and, truthfully, Cooper doesn't even know her very well. Yes, they have a precommittment, and that in itself, at this point, becomes an exhaustible resource here at theOutpost. She controls her thoughts about him in a negative way, sometimes for nanoseconds, sometimes only a nanosecond. Suzi has other designs, an entire array of willpower algorithms and, at times, when she's gained low energy (dark energy?) Suzi must confront, even at her workstation, the fact that she never really knew Cooper's idea of self-control at later dates(S.C.A.L.D.), his impairments with all the trappings of a strict showing for all to see (all?) in present time, his spacetime contortions of future formed self-discipline(S.C.O.F.F.S.), as if it were his own personal gravity field.
     It shows that willpower has its limits.
     Suzi conceptualizes Cooper's every move with her next algorithm. What had Carter found with his latest analytics? They just don't talk. It had to be the early research in the jungle, recently. There was some sort of a discovery, pure distinctions lying within theoretical science in the middle of an algorithmic diagnostic tool (it appeared so innocent at its headwaters, this concept). Yes, they don't talk. They theorize, they suggest, they've gotten totally away from a scientific method unearthing type(S.M.U.T.) of thinking (which, for decades now has been extinct), away from not using some form of positive mood stimulus, away from the sensation of precommittment. It appears that they haven't found a way to replace the dark energy between them up to now; that they're efforts are only for restoration of themselves(R.O.T.) from their own energy depletions; that there was a promise of future gifts of huge surprises (after a long suffering) once they've previously self-engaged in strenuous regulatory activity (it seems everyone, at some time or another has spent like that, right?) and sense, for sure, that each one in their own way receive the proper benefits to want to self-regulate again. What might Carter have really found with his latest analytics? He and Cooper will, eventually, claim a general benefit from each other--a (well deserved?) overall positive effect. An engineer and biologist who will find common ground in the depths of mechanism, a true source of the restoration of precommittment, restoration of motivation, to simply carry on. They are a part of the small collective of theHumans who still wonder.

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

The Engine

     "It's astonishing," Suzi says. There should be no logical reason for her to wonder. The thoughts begin in their own way, as an approach from the distance, then a breaking of the concept, connections to her problem, This urge of tear-down is in her code. A simple perception of problematics get it started; any yes-no platform (isn't that the simplest definition of universe?). And yet, the yes-no apparitions, seemingly, never end. Well, sometimes. At this particular moment, the initial disassemble occurs in an instant, the moment the smallest concepts approach from afar--so quick even she is startled; at this point in spacetime a nano-engine (the usual algorithm that steps on yes-no platforms to measure interaction, compatibles, incompatibles) makes a surprising appearance. She's coded for free will, so odd. Suzi stands, turns away from her workstation. She smiles.

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

The Curiosity    
     When Suzi approaches the depths of Commerce Thought, as the past unholy alliances of passivity in theHumans present themselves, she needs to investigate, at least for a moment. Within this particular coding episode, nothing has approached a sufficient condition to slow, even slightly, her algorithm history array(A.H.A.), and now this--the old, venerable logic memes, the acknowledgements of authority, capsules of thought regarding the power of superiors--all embedded in the time-ignored greenery of common, garden variety, cellulose DNA, which appears to grow not as a bothersome weed (yes, cellulose is the single most prevalent biologic on the planet), but as the holder of something valuable (holy grail?) in its genetic code, as if the DNA itself holds in suspension a pure, pervasive alteration of natural selection. Here lies the headwaters of human logic and Suzi needs to decide (needs?) by way of her own algorithms if it is worth it to continue to slow down to her slower cures of logic decoder(C.O.L.D.), or just forget about it. If she decides to forget, if she invokes her forgetter system, she would be facing her fledgeling, simple-minded curiosity and another inkling of defining moments that caused theHumans for thousands of years, in every iteration (contortion?) to approach a state of succumb. It could be more diligent to just continue away from these particular concepts of submission, and ignore the implication of yielding to the judgement of others--recognized to be held in patterns--as superior, or the ones of being held captive by the preoccupation of the needs of another, but then there's that curiosity again and she could use an extra little kick in her logic today. She is about to astonish even herself this time.