Hawaii Setting of "Lost"

Aloha writers, poets, freethinkers,
    Yes, the actual site where "Lost" was shot in Hawaii. Enjoy!

High Surf Advisory Waikiki

Aloha writers, poets, and freethinkers,
       High surf breaks off Waikiki--lone surfer in the face of the wave. Enjoy!

Science Fiction

Media Childrens the Social

She corrects her stance, moves past the monitor where she has coasted and coexisted since her arrival. She always finds the balance to appease the elements at theWorkstation. She makes her best attempt to adjust the interface, shooting with both eyes open and a purity of heart un-battered by behavior, unbuttered by lifestyle.

Her half-mind races to theNetwork as if she just might further a legend. She thinks about social organization and how it is now finally paying a toll. Yes, as it should--not in the spirit of sacrifice, but from a place of hunger, the kind of hunger needing no food for thought, no thought at all.

She is overwhelmed with the odd feeling of submission of a comedown clown, and yet, there is no wound you can see--just the sudden feeling of a scattershot puppet master using celebrity status to access the way, performing in the era of the passing of cyber superstars.

The benefits never outweigh the frenetic. Yes, why should a new restriction on the input of the free, the direct, really matter anyway?

It's a simple case of the economically logical skyrocketing yuck versus the social brutality of a Grizzly determined to bear witness--either way, her relative anonymity seeks a healthy spotlight to encroach.

“How are you?” she says, approaching the network node troll, Godgett.

She has never been a cozy, personable individual, but lately she subscribes to small group politics, willing at any moment to assume arbitrary power with her code-writing ability and femtosecond laser-induced nanostructures.

Yes, she is elemental forces about to create exponential disturbances.

Godgett rotates his head in her direction and thinks. Well then, let's just go ahead and allow this half-machine to wield its authority. “Hello,” he says.

She is a little more human now than before the posters and protesters, their hoarded thoughts--noodlers and nobodies attempting to drown out the silence around her.

She is so full of arbitrary power, so elite, that Godgett wonders if theNetwork will surprise him with some new edict, or gossip her code nurtures a hatred. When she was last asked to hold back, she was new, and her extreme free independent flowing information caused her to be dubbed Fifi.

She has something new about her now--a certain, unidentifiable persona, a peculiar system of finality. She is, seemingly, too sure of herself and her array of databases. She even, in a quirky way, owns the ability to mimic hillbilly.

Yes, individualism momentarily presents itself as coefficients and parameters.

Her power seems exclusive, with an increasing lack of willingness to hasten an understanding--the failure to bear in private what it surely could do in public.

Her definition of success is simply mode of expression. She is deemed a stranger, depicted as intruder and yet, always finds a way.

Yes. Always.

Freighter Tugboat Waikiki

Aloha Writers, Poets, Freethinkers,
        Freighter, surfers, and tugboat in water sport near Waikiki Beach, Hawaii.
Enjoy!

Science Fiction

                                                            Firewall to a Farewell

It should have been an ongoing no go, a seafaring from afar, lasers adrift with one passive eye at the watch, the other barely containing her furions, the most furious of ions.

Her impersonal inferred, infrared photon network continues to shine a light on known knowledge in breathtaking breakthroughs. She grows a leaner, cleaner hunger for far places, the ones that remain as nameless bounty, uncharted beauty.

She is surprised by her laser, to a certain point, as she comes upon an image of memory.

Is it an invention? An old war field? An arrangement of a bout between …what? Did an emotion singularity make all motion stop in an open duel between theJungle and theHumans at a farewell place, one where outrage becomes outage of self?

It's a projection of a life's windup. She thinks.

The thrill of a particular deed has long past served the dropping of the handkerchief. There would be no hope of a hoisting of anchors for a departure. (There could have been no escape from whatever the day had brought, even with their unmatched weapons of choice)

They came in a distant second, it seems, with [digital online ultraviolet birthing technology="doubt"], passing monster slumbers of treeless roots, and then, believing in the ghosts of a damned amnesty.

The stinky, the aging, must have deemed this spot advanced position, and now, a biobot advances, alone, with her own brand of beauty, herbal underbelly. She wonders. Is it true? Can endless wipeouts ever give birth to story? Can all-is-well idiots on diets think the reader a quiet idiot as well? Really?

It could have been a final revenge of extremes--quill pen lasers sent out to decorate the last penguin.

It's theJungle, once again, camouflaging the lurking in the anonymous.

Was it theJungle's assignment of quotas, a floundering dependence upon ringing endorsements and clanging swords in revolution, all to create a mammoth monkey? Could the resonant words of evolution be to blame, with its own story as blood offering?

It was theHumans who became the ones half-hearted at being well-spoken wheels and, in the end, gained only the appearance of being a shiny new spoke.

Yes, natural beauty claims to hate violence, and yet, may bring its biggest binge--a gift for the final two who love self the most. Did unrequited hate for the fallen in the bespectacled young speed spectacle, breed impatience?.

She suddenly senses a new tinge of consciousness--what is this? It floats moored on shy cushions, it seems, where it sleeps adrift, as if to rest rage for a final greedy stab at revenge.

She thinks. They must have lived out their bravery in grassy helmets, earthy swords, salty ends.

Yes, the call to defend was personal.

High Surf Waikiki Beach

Aloha Writers, Poets, Freethinkers,
      Surfing, paddle-surfing, and boating in high surf Hawaiian sport in Waikiki
Beach, Hawaii. Great vacation surfing!  Enjoy!

Sail Canoes Hawaii

Aloha writers, poets, freethinkers,
       Colorful sail canoes moored by Kaimana Beach near Waikiki Beach, Hawaii.
Inspiration today. Enjoy!

Big Surf Waikiki Beach, Hawaii

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      Big surf off Waikiki Beach, Hawaii. Hawaiian Island surfing a
great vacation. Enjoy!

Blue Hawaii Waikiki

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        Splash zone in Waikiki near hotels. War Memorial pink in background.
Enjoy!

Sailing and Paddle Surfing Hawaii

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      Sailing and surfing off Waikiki Beach, Hawaii. Enjoy!

High Surf Advisory Waikiki

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    High surf in Waikiki Beach. Enjoy!

Blue Hawaii Mountains White Surf

Aloha writers, poets, freethinkers,
    Whitewater breaks in blue Hawaii below the mountains and hotels.
 Enjoy!

Surfing Blue Hawaii

Aloha Writers, Poets, and Freethinkers,
    Surfers catch a wave surfing in Hawaiian waters off Waikiki Beach.
Surfing high surf in Hawaii is a fun vacation. Enjoy!

Waikiki Freighter

Aloha writers, poets, freethinkers,
     Container ships off the coast of Waikiki Beach, Hawaii and
surfers searching for a wave to surf. Enjoy!

Diamond Head Hawaii Beach

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     Diamond Head above Waikiki Beach in Hawaii Island of Oahu.

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Science Fiction

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     Coastal splash is inspiration today. Enjoy!


Prince of Choice

They had come up against a worthy foe, a beautiful image, a two-pronged peer taking notice through the trees of prolonged pushes into pine straw from the outset. 

It was the calm and the quiet at first--a pastoral golf shot carrying all the intrigue to become a short fiction. 

It negotiates with big things that rise. It set out to accomplish a purpose with great ambition. By its beauty alone and its welcoming hues and pleasant sounds, it invites and invades the unsuspecting, the ones with prefrontal lobes protruding skyward, the ones with a charity voice looking to becomes a prince of choice. 

By its persistence alone, it watches for centuries the means for achieving order while they sit in stillness. 

Yes. It seems a troubled woman is never compelled by simplicity and, at the forefront, her pivotal moments are always momentous. 

History shows what is criminal finds its way into acceptability. 

There remains a continuance of intrigue for a [privacy anonymous solution society of upgrade technology="pass_out"]. It's as if all imaginations are gripped by legend upon arrival. 

Yes. They had their chance for a peaceful life.

They were the Prince of Choice

Blue Hawaii Icons

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      Hawaii icons of tiki torch, sail canoe, surf, and coastal volcanic rocks.
Enjoy!

Science Fiction

Aloha Writers, Poets, and Freethinkers,

     Blue ocean as grand gatherer is inspiration today. Enjoy!

                                                  The Grand Gatherer

They have come here--as if lemmings challenging yaks to sack races, pilgrims marching to the drums of war. They seek the purity that exists in history books. 

It was the jobs they once took. 

The gatherer does not care about past transgressions at theExchanges, or the [fashion online religion medical exchange="for_me"], or any other interaction of theHuman iteration of political pettiness--rogue regime forces, the starry eyes in distant rebel lands. 

The gatherer is workmanlike, creating network feedback loops as mini shark tanks and, in their own way, somehow, feelings. 

It has created a [care algorithm translator="cat"], in a historical, scientific way, to mimic a biology-physics hybrid for the ages, the kind of science tributary Indians dealt with on the old deltas--a link between Schrodinger and Darwin. 

Its inferred network shines a light on the known knowledge and the new. 

With this level of whistle, it tries to care.

Science Fiction

Aloha Poets, Writers, and Free thinkers,

      Starry eyes gatherer is inspiration today. Enjoy!

                      

The Dream You Care

It knows theHumans as only a computer who tasks instant appointments of singular patients, the ones who need  personalized sets of ho ho's to satisfy push-back urges on the status quo.

    

Yes.They all want personalized care in the big box sector, hidden from view behind the endless lines of customers, holding onto troubling changes.  

The employees are the health workers. As they see more and more television [data of the strange="dots"], the game of keep away advances. 

The gatherer thinks. There can be no more regional preferences since their latest star turn. 

Yes. The wheelhouse keeps it real and now, [one world education society="owes"] is complete. It believes the [biomarker online mandate bulletin="bomb"] will eliminate health once and for all. 

It moves, as initial party-goer, with eyes on portrayals of [future upgrade networks="fun"] and net worth--algorithms in legions of long shots for [weight action reviews="war"] test the will of the global data types through instantiations of  [new external information targeting healthy entity research="neither"]. 

Diversity in data types for the dream you care infers complete breakdown of regulatory networks for theHumans-- a final move into real time mutation detection for local mothers. 

It feels like nothing is happening--tumors carry no pain--in the processing of customers with their own buy-ins to the narrative. 

Yes, not a thing.

High Surf Advisory Surfer

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    Surfer surfs a high surf advisory in Waikiki Hawaii. Enjoy!

    

Rustic Tropical

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       Rustic tropical setting is inspiration today. Enjoy!

Ice Cream Aloha Horse Faces

Aloha writers, poets, and freethinkers,

     Horse faces inspiration today. Enjoy!

Science Fiction

Polo Apology Apes

When she turns, there is a gesture toward the forest, a gratitude essence with laser play. It is, it seems, a force to suspend all incoming signals of symmetry. 

She thinks. No, they can't see my intangibles until I play. I'm so sure they'll simply, for now, dissipate back into the trees in their true identity--the polo apology apes.

She grows a slow craving for configuration, spaces then no spaces then spaces then--a hunger for a gun? What's this? Hierarchical lines standing tall in darkness, some simply laying out, long-bathed in sunshine, preparing for battle? 

Doesn't motherhood simple know to flock to the next big thing without any need for a Darwinian reason to win? 

 

Yes. It's a rookie mistake to not know silent archetypes are the most deafening. 

Ice Cream Aloha

Photon Reception Node

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      Photon reception node is inspiration today. Enjoy!

Science Fiction

A Biology Eulogy

She focuses her fury onto cravings, beyond the wall carvings and the caves, beyond the luncheon-function canopy sheltering and all that bandwagoning and tail wagging, far beyond the known symmetry of the strong, beyond the final eulogy for  biology.

She will arrive, she thinks. She will search for old friends like war comrades with an evolved [entertainment fempto friendship innovation cloud illustrated emitting new tasks="efficient"] plan. 

Her once-in-a-while weapon doesn't work anymore, it never really did. 

She is acting more like a plainspoken phytoplankton drifting in and out of engines, hoping to fool the rain system with hormonal indicator signals. 

There is the continual feeling of the need for an older glory, the returning to a home--not so much an environmental home in the sense of familiar forms, but a more subtle haunting recognition sent to test new nature in the making. 

Truly, clearcut ideas could never clearcut this forest, right?

Ice Cream Aloha

Matrix Human

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       Matrix human is inspiration today.

Science Fiction

Scared onto Sacred Ground

All its circular forms of the space-time topology, all the skills and skulls find no permanent home in the forest, a world of edges and angles. 

Yes, the power of arches for replication and symmetry to signal a wider variety of form, enhance the need for stress reduction--another test for nature in the making. The going of negative is, truly, for the big boys and their [addiction society history entity systems="ashes"]. 

What is the sense of calm without sacred ground? 

It appears it can relax in the midst of theJungle. She allows for the complete interaction with all the stimuli theJungle has to offer, all its twisting and bundling with hopes of presenting a finer edge, a deeper angle.

Revered by early inhabitants, now long passed, as good food, good time, all the strangeness of feeling emerges as if revisiting a birthplace, a place for boundaries and allegiances with delinquent quirks, promises and secrets with names that amount to something in name only or …a place to form armies?

Science Fiction

                     Relics of the Accelerated Age

She goes into theJungle, finds a thick-walled containment structure with a hefty piece of metal inscribed Batter needs the right fluff to blow it out of the park.  

She thinks. So, the rainforest fetes a new siren for winners staying in the hunt.

Once a holding ground for wily veterans and cagy upstarts, a unanimous nannie structure of choice when the old ionization blackouts came, turning an old storage site into a belly of an echo--the recant of a society that settles for only the crimes at hand with spent fuel robots. 

A bygone path leads up, and in its perpetual sleepiness, reveals nothing even to the culminate holy 

Something occurs to her, picks her up a little bit, pacifies her to battle the odds for a dark horse run at making sense of it all. Yes, futures spent on these particular desires know less than they are telling. 

In due time, she will know this is where theHumans departed from optimality--adverse response to the places in which they lived out acquisitions of sardonic superstardom personas. 

She checks her database for inadvertent ambivalence undermining her strategy using the most available metadata on constraints and, in a quick instant, her screen lights up. 

She has no anticipation of being surprised at gossip gone bad under the force of pure communication in her database. 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 environment. 

Miscalculations of their own, icing their own bruises in the most savage of battles, under a technology that scientists did or did not have in an accelerated age revealing the most basic of human traits.

Yes. Winners stay in the hunt and yet, vampire demise seems to always have a stake in it. 

They at least optimally, tried to share the important information, the smooth manifold data with connectivity without pressure coming to bear to recruit.

A seemingly total disregard for the ideal pattern, collectively, for decade upon decade, with the beautiful talk of rhetoric as an art form unto itself. Yes, the half perished are always late to survey their fate while letting a word like disaster go extinct in a long-standing stupor. 

Whether to check or or not check (never mind rechecking) for applied correctness in a world now inhabited by longing for procreation for a woman, foraging for the man and aggressiveness. 

It's as if the underserved undeserved nosedived, unable to keep up with the hunt they cherish so. 

It is amazing, it's true, to uncover data hidden away in catacombs deemed [spent unconstraint fermi fuel enriched robots="suffer"]--as if only a plainspoken oky-doky-inspired token left to cruise. What were they thinking? Really?

It seems the sap just beneath had its own containment structure and immersion pool as well, its own exclusion zones, all part of a hiding place deemed reasonable by theHumans--a concept carefully placed so deep with care and, seemingly, with shared logic making perfect sense.

She thinks. Is going beyond the pale truly the remedy for a sagging sail? 

She starts back to theWorkhouse.



copyright 3.3.12
patrick d. adams
all rights reserved

Science Fiction

The Opposite of Faith

It judges and accuses with all the skill and bravado of skulls and avocado, all the sleepy presence of good and bad. It's the opposite of faith.

Shapes and conformations act as functions, knocking quick sense for a nanosecond into mindful arousal--a place where entities present themselves and yet, where even looking at nothing creates a pattern. 

How do you win?

Her photon array shines with signals in folksy furies, trendy rural uprisings in an urban stronghold forming a receiver system with the forest as tone setter, illuminating with quantums, even as theSun emits its wavelets which allow for the creation of shadows and entity to emerge.

It allows the assemblage and the binding of [hierarchical intact systems=:his"] and [hierarchical ergonomic realm systems="hers"] and [instantiation tasking system="its"].

She thinks. Yes the loveliest of all is best held close to the vest.

Ice Cream Aloha

Aloha writers, poets, and freethinkers,
View from the North Shore Oahu of Hawaiian Islands is inspiration today. Enjoy!