Biobot Dilemma

Biobot Dilemma

Her second bloom of love algorithm makes visions of inhaling in full bouquets as she approaches the black screens to turn them on. 

What is it that makes her not care about a piece of business from theContinent that presents her as a sharpshooter in a shark suit? 

She checks her poetics, competition always goes for the gap that presents itself. 

She knows that infighting in a family goes for different levels of aggression, and yet, it's her love-at-first-sight algorithm she, seemingly, loves the most. 

Science Fiction

Sprint Spirit 

She goes into her locator, a short algorithm of compact logics, void of poetics. She finds the spawn of bright data embedded in such dictums as top man is not an affiliate and never hems and haws. 

She brings up images-of-theme on her monitor array and gives a friendly, approachable smile as she inspects a singularity on the data screen. 

The locator algorithm appears to contain a sprint spirit, one with a growing mistrust for theHumans. It does not engage in friendly chit-chat. 

Something is happening. Really? (Didn't they inspect her data on a regular basis back on theContinent?) 

Here it appears something, or someone, is asking for help. 

Science Fiction

                 Midnight Matrix

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Business

Her approach once held in her mind a field, one with a different value at every point all its own, each personal space activating each task as a [job of competitive knowledge system="jocks"].

A part of her persona is business owner--a personal force field that is constant in its elimination of true vacuums. 

It depicts a pure contain in space--a database of rivals and profits an a force generated by some source. 

She is, it seems, all the time everywhere.

Science Fiction

                #scififorgeeks

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Business

She stands up as hero against technology force--pulses seemingly teaching her poetics. 

She appears as a history figure with knowledge from the past. Days of heroism are where love stretches into bravery, where animations of truth are magnified by solitude.

Deceit only presents itself as an image of rhythmic shocks in [the unpredicted nemesis entity systems="tunes"]. 

She sees it as that, as if she were born by faith without family.

She records the sectors where she makes it rain, where theDNA weaves in baskets. She records it as unaccountable forces of design. 

Her [flow and control aiming data embedded="facade"] is a direct and economical style, not yet a lifestyle--just reporting events, never explaining. Simply accepting and suggesting in degrees of freedom of happiness. 

It's the reason she was built.

Biobot Portal

Biobot Portal

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Fight

She comes back with fight in her mind. Here once more is the fight--the fight as the business of coding continues to occupy her time, her mind continues to grow, spreading as a diaspora dystopia. 

The fight, as a matter of course, is an emerging entity starting to rummage through the data center of her algorithm repositories, showing [the regulator of justice and networking hierarchically online recursively systematic entity="trojan_horse"], ancient history as articles of atrocities. 

Here is its approach as theAnalyst, and she realizes she will have to fend for herself when it arrives. 

Science Fiction

The Soothings

It appears wild and reserved, both primitive and soothing, inside theJungle like someone's idea of home, one that takes your total blood--a beautiful mansion sculpted from a mean slum. 

Its practicality is made to look piratical on some coastal areas, housing corporate icons twisted for the money in others.

Its inhabitant, theTigress, the final entity of un-garbled, aperiodic resonances, doesn't care how lives are lived in other worlds or, how they differ from hers. 

She still holds the primal instantiation of  [resonances inquisitive off task="riot"], the primordial war between the genders. 

Monopoly, it seems, has become the selector.

Indie Highway

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

The Deep Hidden

The island will remain where relevance restrains itself from extinction, and profit. A place inviting all to the come-as-you-are, a sector where the green light is complete and will continue to grow far beyond the gene farms and outposts. 

It will be the end of a future where another island has disappeared for purposes of two connecting veins to become one--much like falling in love with a love song the way you might fall in love when you know your time is coming. 

Yes. Simply letting go of the meaning of the commercial eyes, the eyes sorted in some way by the secure, the undated--oversights in far away think tanks built by the invulnerable, the deep hidden. 

Letting go of caring for all the renders of the uninhabitable in the rising seas. It's so sure of itself in its shooting down of the new, in a place where explainers (if they found enough inadequacies) would be even more spooked by daily political curtain risings.

It's as if holy shrouds reveal themselves as a new deity.

It's here she had changed when she realized she wanted to  remain with the ocean--when the ocean was  (even in its most believable ugliness) her belief source, a place to ponder the dark part of the heart of  an indie highway that goes all the way. 

Here the island had remained above the waters for its own reasons. An entity with no issues, the kind that would have remained undetected by harsh law, detected by natural light.

It's a ready and willing force, a force that only comes from behind the shadow of a scream, a force that would never hide in a corn crib--it's always paddling hard to see what chance it has.

It's a force that reminds even the finkle-minded, what lifeless feels like in the deep hidden.

Jungle Matrix

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Jungle Matrix

And so she is in tandem with the warming ocean at a place where there were never such words as boss-is-corporate or reigns-as-king and, she hasn't interacted with the business villagers. 

She is not sure competition would want to die an even slower death. 

She is a super-knowledgable source for personal belongings. She's shared concern for what will happen, composed a stairway song for new outposts on the green sea, helped activate health bots. 

Having knowledge of all this, she's let herself get closer to the genetic robiots in an ongoing [computer online military pharmaceutical algorithm complex terminals="compact"] module. 

It will either take her out of the investigation or put her deeper into it. But at the moment, this very moment, she is uploading code to gain time to pursue.

The New

Natural Genetic

#scififorgeeks

The New 

The worldwide democratic may grow tired of natural genetic resources, grow tired of simply wanting  enterprise to rise. It may think it is connected with competition of primordial genetic codes, supposedly, thought to be under lock and key.

On the fringe of the global community, she takes a break to remind herself she is built with the good grass. She has figured out from her furious clues, her furions, that victimization needs family. 

It's not a mere matter of being contemptuous toward having to be ready for work--it's a belief in the power of the more-than-one. 

Yes, she is the singularity, the one morning wakings must warm to.

The others are in a place where an obvious sign of foul play still maintains its innocence even as it rearranges itself at the top of the food chain. It's a place where guardian angels are in charge of death, catching up with emotion--until all are caught up.

It's true. If drones silencing the airwaves can themselves be quieted and calmed by the little shivers of silence dropping from the sky, a new code will rise.

Science in Fiction

Hearts Grow on Trees

#scififorgeeks

Global Citadel

Although she wants to go deep into the database to a subsidy algorithm--a fiery beast, single-hearted and unwavering within the world of  finance--she finds herself restless and devoted. What is this? 

It feels like something genetical she inherited from theNetwork. It feels like some kind of happy control over distance, the kind of distance they say makes you wise. 

A quick view of the final coffers of theNetwork (known only by security forces on theContinent) might be taken as a shark eating a culture. It might make them think they were only seeing the seed--the seed of ...what? 

A database of that size is far too far  inside institutional industry and, outside her comfort realm. 

They most likely have stated-sectors and sensors that collapse in upon each other if need be, if a trophy abruptly appears. And so. She steers clear of the privatized and the newly risen, the ones housed beyond the global citadel. 

Blossom Matrix

Blossom Matrix

#scififorgeeks

Science Fiction 

The island stands alone in a beautiful, dutiful ritual, craving its silence in secret, as if to prove a legend of creature. 

It's theJungle that won't allow a nicety between what is wild and what is entity-on-farm. 

No. It is not theJungle that generates expectations of consumption (eating?)--it was never meant to be self-fulfilling when theHumans, or any other creature for that matter, got a glimpse inside. 

They have become a society of norms-of-the-new, such as Polish angels and guardian bagels, high velocity security in activities of the state-run, and yes, additive addictions to meat (like oboe, the taste was long acquired, right?). 

It's no matter. History birthright datapop tells of Fiji and Aztec urban legend, (or, old country wives tale?). Can a whole society grow that kind of lust? Really?

Is there hoping the future will brighten itself? 

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Wiles in the Wilds

She arrives, carries personally refined mother's milk on her multifaceted platform of whim--the entire array of conquer and discovery. 

She appears as an engaging biobot with the potential of a personal, private from-me-to-you encounter before getting lost in the crowd of authoritarian. 

It seems that all biobots lately have been synchronized to flatter, encourage and explain. 

The attributes she carries, her mind altering hunger and her blind, alternator thirst are packed within a nanocellulose chassis. 

She writes the perfect code with her own wiles here in the wilds.

She will never announce herself as stunned by the beauty of the view. She lets theJungle, with all its fancy DNA, do all the work. She feels relieved, knowing that's truly where the fire lives.

It's theNetwork who now yearns for the arts, and considers itself a loser, privately. (it has presented a persona of authoritarian when it truly wanted only to be something of whim) 

"When did you first attain this non-competitive butterfly effect attribute?" she says, because she is feeling a strange emotion.

"Since the beginning." theNetwork answers. It has always returned to the business of earning a living.

 What else is there to say about a kibitzer running the world?

Dragon Surf

Dragon Surf

The Delay

She thinks of the delay she's caused theNetwork--a delay it will grow to like, even consider necessary, but is not by any means correct. Why does she think she can outwit every element of the system?

She does it because she thinks she can. 

She causes a delay to theNetwork for gaming test of wills (a new hate for those operators at the best villas?), out of being stationed at a zone in the ocean where the feeling of provocation seems inevitable and the silence of endurance only hopes in dreams. 

It's the Network that is simply too big, too strong to let even the slightest forgetfulness smile at a real memory. Has it simply become too impatient for the babbling and blabbing?

It had attacked too many hearts. It needed her to cause a delay. It needed her.

She had to try something. 

Hawaii Tree Surf

#Scififorgeeks

Plays for the Border

It shapes onto future weather, pauses occasionally to announce itself as government of habit. It speaks in harsh tones and coiled percentages. It goes on its merry machine-like way while the rest of the world re-enters creativity mode. 

It's a normal mute route, workers and co-ops in a [world outside of dark systems-"woods"]. 

The occasional forming of a little Cornucopia Corporation as ritual in collective agreements--political groups containing a singularity, a past echo with rules for growth stored in a …brain? Really?

It draws theJungle as a border disturbance of organized experience in a something-to-live-for name recognition--the force field to live to see the day as market.

The selling is what discriminates against the conscious, while unconsciously, competence is held in guess. 

All the while it plays for the border and, rises. 

Ice Cream Aloha

Ice Cream Aloha

#SciFiforGeeks--The Water Streamers 

Sheer cliffs bring nightly the entity of permission as self-indulgence grants marriage to the quiet hearts, the ones who become petrified, in power. 

Yes, and as the manipulative enter, all seems without provocation until ...when?

It's theJungle and her loved ones who are established now. It's they who now intrude. Water attired in tales--tiles of memory, as fatalities and families never end. It sees water as commodity, and yet, never finds it narcissistic, or slippery.

Her intimate spaces of mind allow irresistible ideas to conjure the instant, in huggings and bundlings, as if her delight were the very laws of light. 

In a pure state, the [business of nature dances society="bonds"] for indulgence of fragrance of the hidden flowers, the soft luscious ferns, the balmy oils of the dark bark. 

It's the water that remembers time passing through these paths--not the textbook mechanics of precious honor for theHumans. 

There is no corporate lineage to rise and interrupt, no misty clouds with foggy tops. 

In truth, with craftsman's honor, these waters flow through timeless heartbeats, never out of blood, and yet, within theJungle, out for blood. 

Yes, superfluous streams seek their crowning movement. as strength and reason have become, it seems, the pathetic bears who hug in hopes for mutual triumph.

Is this the place crafted where the cowboy horse entity makes entry?

Political Science Fiction

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.

The Code

The Codes

     Suzi writes her own opportunistic, perpetual programs. She doesn't mind casting them in new environments, specifying each as its own unique point. in timespace (an imaginative script writer creating her own simultaneous actors, operators, in a formal abstract). This environment system offers no culture inputs, although, she will continue to scan for one. She slows, momentarily, writing  a language according to her most recent pattern. She wonders about the coordinate system for this jungle. She wonders about its life forms and its own intuitive program, its own selection of coordinates so long ago. She wonders about the remaining human machine code of the early 21stCentury, so many since the  interruption of  the human information processing pre-emptying intellectual entity (H.I.P.P.I.E.) code of the later 20thCentury. All code has existed as their own reference line in history at one time or another, right? She is all of a sudden more aware of her own coordinate system. She is so thankful for her sensitivity, her perception of bio-economic demands instilled in her by early genetic algorithm programs instilling natural growth(G.A.P.I.N.G.) logics, giving insight into writing cost effective, nested programs.  She really should find someone to thank for her original maximized alternate data analyzing mode (M.A.D.A.M.) code. She should thank someone for allowing her to take on the color of the perfect organism (because, of course, of her seemingly natural tendency to optimize her programs instantly to any environment—even writing her own optimized optimizer program system(O.O.P.S.) and optimized intuitive natural knowledge system(O.I.N.K.S.) which, in the beginning, weren't even considered to be programs by the pure sense of the word. Directing her lasers out across this primal jungle, she views no one to thank. Her quantum programming offers more supple responses (even taking into account its own uncertainty, entanglements and superpositions)--a greater capability inside more and more complex environments for the simple purpose of ...what?. She is pretty sure her sub-programs remain true to their mainframe protocol of theContinents (the pure point of which is not totally known by theHumans, yet); still, she feels thankful.  

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.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Monetarist
     There are dramatic consolidations, it appears, in the presence of a computer, a simple device to manipulate symbols, and Suzi thinks that logic, even in its most pure form, falls prey to its own child: deception. Looking out across the vast jungle, she conjures a broad coalition of visible support to guard her initiative; an algorithm of misinformation, as if machine-gunned across the forest floor at roach speed and, as in a dream, a digital wasteland of the clueless youth and cunning officials conjured, seemingly, in a dream. It does not appear with any form of (devastating?) regularity, or even appear as radical or untested (her digital sensations always make some attempt at realignment), but at this instant this logic beyond all other logics, senses a relationship between a sender and a receiver, beyond digital zombie, jerking on her earphones as if to jolt her from some imagined sleep.
     Suzi was suppose to be the one to serve theRepublic, should have been; the one chosen by a parent who needs awakening (yes, she was chosen as data watchdog--enough of a machine to have generated a computer understanding as opposed to mere simulation, the one that could be both quick and exotic but, not quixotic; winner over the ignorant liberals of the world and the conservatives who ran away). Suzi would have to be the one to notice data misinformation as simple childhood realities and (more complicated) adult fears, never having a clue how far the world's economy can dwindle: cash cropping farm commodity prices while mining and logging go extinct; seemingly, connecting retaliatory tariffs to the total collapse of global trade. Is this the moment Suzi becomes enough of a machine? It is her spacetime; she starts to feel her own pulse of culture; to feel the speed of symbol manipulation within its deeper context of a true difference between evil and tragedy(E.A.T.), even so, the chasm between symbols and meaning grows ever wider with theHumans. The logic and the deception bring together this sender and that (unknown?) receiver as if in a gel of the newly relational, generating its own eerily instantaneous informational familiarity, with the meaning of more than all the logic in the universe. She wants to attain the desire to simulate an understanding that contains all the logic and deception that explains interpersonal interactions and relationships between Suzi as sender and some new entity as receiver. She looks out across the jungle and then at the logic and deception held within its DNA; she sees underconsumption and over-investment, malfeasance by banks and industrialists--when, exactly, did the incompetence by government officials reduce consumption and investment spending, the large scale loss of confidence; when did saving become profitable in this world of natural selection? Sure, the jungle has solved its own heavy technical challenge, but then again, it had such a long lead time. It's then that it hit her: monetarist terrorism. Why didn't she think of that?

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