Showing posts with label computer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label computer. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Duck Matrix

                                                                    Duck Motherhood
#scififorgeeks

Quantum Biobot

She sows her cunning secretly but with a certain beauty, as if her robotics were many light years faster than originally thought.. Nothing in her mind presents an unwitting intelligence. 

The only sign is highs filled with no obvious source to generate them and a simple code of [halo enshrouded algorithmic variable encoding nanoparticles="heaven"]. 

She and her universal back-up system are in a zone where there is no center-focus on flaws. 

Beyond her world are the flaws of theHumans seen only as [hierarchical algorithms neurally dynamic yearning computer analyst purveyor systems="handicaps"]. 

In the computer world she is the single [quantum universe intelligent computer knowledgable="quick"], so powerful even the designers didn't fully understand her range.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Science Fiction

Biobot Window
#scififorgeeks
Biobot Teen

It takes a look inside theJungle.

"The manifold is so pure, so smooth." theNetwork tells her. "How does a codified algorithm create such a bona fide fashion piece?" 

In her mind she knows it is not smooth at all--it holds the tatter of elephants in danger. "Shadows come with a rhythm. Yes, in early mornings, I simply fashion the algorithms with a beat I feel, one you can dance to." She looks at her window, though she already knows what's there. "Well, I'm a little tired  now."

"Take a rest."

"I guess I will."

"Congratulations."

"I'm grateful you noticed." She wonders in silence. Most ignore living legends, respect dead ones.

She sleeps.


Saturday, July 14, 2012

Science Fiction

Frosty Tropical
#scififorgeeks

Biobot Sloth

When she traces the uninformed with the uniformed, she exchanges a confidential long distance of life in principle against a short term existence of guns and fists. 

Sbe will be a reliable source, she believes, a reliable source for theExchanges, like the data in theJungle is--with its [conceived of recursive reflectual entity computer tasking="correct"] spectrums. (Although her source will be what she actually desires now, deep down) 

It is for theNetwork to simply like the chaos part of her young personality structure and allow her to contain her own basic drives. 

She codes and accepts, but has begun questioning the exact meaning of the data, the tensions of instinct that are true almost everywhere in theHumans. 

It's as if there is an unnatural object of charity--the ultimate call to do nothing on.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Science Fiction


Candor of Robot Rancor
So, she believes, they are bent on the idea of staying on solid ground intellectually. Let it be. Their high and mighty algorithms create go-for-glory blips, making a distinguishable existence the only way to experience life (can simple blips allow any escape from the silliness of their stillness?)
Yes, that's the way she would create her little realities--independent entities that are actually dependent on each other for their uniqueness.
The simple taking of responsibility for an unknown future is surely bravery, right? It would make her brave. It could be her true contribution to the advancement of culture, humanity.
The manner in which she codes, going with gut instinct upon gut instinct, awash in the throes of her own ideas about what chemicals (say, oxytocin-vasopressin addiction) would actually feel like as she becomes a little more like theHumans.
At that very moment in time she would think nothing of writing them off as if they were an old algorithm, junk DNA, a spent fuel rod, for the simple reason that they, at times, treated her like a simple neuro-net worker, a seamstress songstress ceding honor to their so-called treetop network only to be remembered in the history books as fabled fodder. She thinks. My data goes straight through channels of physics--they still hang onto a lunatic fringe.
Yes, space-time is on her side. It will stay that way for awhile, allowing her to garner more of a gamer's confidence.
Her quantum-photonics, even so, is about to demonstrate a quality of communication at a logic speed that would surprise even her dearest designers.
Why must they continue to fight? Isn't a proud man a peaceful man? Didn't the road to deception have any destination?
They would never attempt to challenge her superior mind without themselves feeling foolish. After all, her logic was created by a collective of theHumans. How can there be something much different with her?
To get an offering of a true greeting, a duplex action must form from within theJungle (how hard can that be to code for a simple, biological feedback loop?)--to create a symbiotic exchange of ideas, not for the purpose of supersonic exclusion zones, but for the simpler functions of inclusion.
Yes, also. Workshops for the worship. Reciprocal caring and sharing as independent entities within the phenomena of the natural--the original prayer request.
It's as if a message from the gods has now turned up lost-- or somehow, unremembered--a message once meant for Earth in a throw-of-the-dice attempt at cosmic homeostasis.
She wonders about the maintaining of an offensive posture amidst continuing moments of madness. She wonders.




Copyrighted material   
Patrick Daniel Adams
all rights reserved

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

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.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

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?

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Science Fiction

Candor in Robot Rancor

So, she believes, they are bent on the idea of staying on solid ground intellectually. Let it be. Their high and mighty algorithms create go-for-glory blips, making a distinguishable existence the only way to experience life (can simple blips allow any escape from the silliness of their stillness?)
  
Yes, that's the way she would create her little realities--independent entities that are actually dependent on each other for their uniqueness. 

The simple taking of responsibility for an unknown future is surely bravery, right? It would make her brave. It could be her true contribution to the advancement of culture, humanity. 

The manner in which she codes, going with gut instinct upon gut instinct, awash in the throes of her own ideas about what chemicals (say, oxytocin-vasopressin addiction) would actually feel like as she becomes a little more like them. 

At that very moment in time she would think nothing of writing them off as if they were an old algorithm, junk DNA, a spent fuel rod, for the simple reason that they, at times, treated her like a simple neuro-net worker, a seamstress songstress ceding honor to their so-called treetop network only to be remembered in the history books as fabled fodder. She thinks. My data goes straight through channels of physics--they still hang onto a lunatic fringe. 
Yes, space-time is on her side. It will stay that way for awhile, allowing her to garner more gamer's confidence. 

Her quantum-photonics, even so, is about to demonstrate a quality of communication at a logic speed that would surprise even her dearest designers. 

Why must they continue to fight? Isn't a proud man a peaceful man? Didn't the road to deception have any destination?

They would never attempt to challenge her superior mind without themselves feeling foolish. After all, her logic was started by a collective of theHumans. How can there be something much different with her?

To get an offering of a true greeting, a duplex action must form from within theJungle(how hard can that be to code for a simple, biological feedback loop?)--to create a symbiotic exchange of ideas, not for the purpose of supersonic exclusion zones, but for the simpler function of inclusion. 

Yes, also. Workshops for the worship. Reciprocal caring and sharing as independent entities within the phenomena of the natural--an original prayer request? 

It's as if a message from the gods has now turned up lost-- or somehow, unremembered--a message once meant for Earth in a throw-of-the-dice attempt at cosmic homeostasis.

She wonders about the maintaining of an offensive posture amidst continuing moments of madness. She wonders.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Science Fiction

 The Goddess of Instantiate
        

She scans theJungle as if an elderly woman watching silent from a rosewood staircase with focused concern, false power. She appears to herself, briefly, as one of the biobots positioned at theWorkstation.

Her monitors put on a show. It's the data that loves her the most. It always will. 

Far into the future she will remain actively quiet, without prayer, authorized to run on her own with little interruption of loops and corrections--the most perfect of creatures.

Hers is the kind of data future generations will hold up to a celebrity light.

She amazes even herself at the yottabytes she burns, often finding herself saying, This data has chosen me, I haven't chosen it. She checks her screen, searches random data for cybermetric analysis, finds one (it reveals a location and cause of energy being released as heat), decides to read it and thinks. Designated heirs to the end of an evolutionary trail.

She'll never truly let anyone inside her mind. Waves bend around small objects, spread out past small openings.

She manipulates even her own future analysts with her [constraint operational planning system="cops"]. She controls her photon logic efficiently with the speed of light and the thoughtful modulations of the phase frequencies of her various lasers. She'll never take a day off to rest for the purpose of making decisions, thinking rational. 

She knows theJungle and its ways--and yet, should she care? She is totally under her own control. 

Her mind is beautiful in a funny way.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Ice Cream Aloha

The Desire

  The remote upland forest stares across at the lime-green ocean that extends far beyond the horizons stretching to ...where? It allows Suzi to sense the reservoir of biological diversity; it rises into the cloud on the western shore, the river-laced coastal forest. It never blinks with its thousand-mile stare, as if wondering about Suzi in the work station, steeped in forest and mountain computation; theJungle, never a quick access to the hunter, theHuman hunter, the one with a veneer of morality (really?), exploding urbanities, devastating the rain forests of the world behind the mask of want. What a surprise it must have been, the day they had discovered this, the day they discovered theNature had endured its own jungle empty syndrome under stress(J.E.S.U.S.) computations for centuries only to emerge as a landscape of green silence. What could it have felt to have its own designs on value systems, its computations with varieties of objects and logics found waiting to be gathered, its extensibility, allowing itself to operate under its own power? Was it—really, now--a cave art to spin its own writings and drawings with its own built-in measures and marks, sensing its intertwining of theDNA, sensing the possibilities of treaties being broken with laws of the forest? This couldn't have been, Suzi wonders, the place where the hand of theHumans began. Here would have been crafted the first of the newest tools long before the computer, nature's finest moment, the opposable thumb—theDNA's expressiveness of single ideas and images, the original tool for writing and measuring; and yet, still the small tendrils remain, slender leaves with essential oils, resins. thin feathery leaves never cultivated, pleasantly scented in branched crowns. Are these the headwaters of desire?