Aloha writers,
Photo eco cubism inspires humanistic writing of theOutpost dystopian novel.
Enjoy!
Showing posts with label dystopian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dystopian. Show all posts
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
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.
"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.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
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?
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?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Ice Cream Aloha
The Perfection
It wasn't deception, he had known this much for sure. It had to be some fancied notion of existence perceived as pointless. He didn't need data from Carter and he didn't see himself as in competition with a talent considered solely in the domain of Carter. Suzi didn't see it that way either ( and by now wasn't giving up her data as freely, not to anyone, or anything, but then, can it be so probable that she would reprogram herself so much--even in the dead of night--using the time tested methods of search engine optimization and default network to create her own executive control systems; and that she needs her separate ideas to be broken up as if so much recycled glass, analyzed, and reassembled in forms to suit her needs in real time?). It's about her own personal version of spacetime. Her data presented is not depicted as merely one viewpoint but, a birthing, a representation of a single focal point in multiple viewpoints to offer up some imagined perception of depth. This must be it. Could it not make more sense if she allowed her logic to intersect at sharp angles, removing (displacing?) coherency and any sense of logical depth, as if to hydroplane any one focused idea across multiple thin backgrounds, penetrating each one in a formulaic way to conjure a shallow, ambiguous space, a cozy little place happiness can live? And so, Carter inspires Cooper and they continue their (pre-adulthood?) manner of ways, Cooper with his own version of the scientific method and Carter with his politically-tinged statistical cyber analysis (bytes-babble to her)--both troublesome men in the eyes of Suzi, and yet, this endless triangulation, this perfect strand of thinking. Yes, afraid of what's next but glad the past is over; the certainty of all futility coupled with infinite enthusiasm; a bountiful creativity joining forces with a (more?) cagey despair. The perfect existence--but definitely not, deception.
It wasn't deception, he had known this much for sure. It had to be some fancied notion of existence perceived as pointless. He didn't need data from Carter and he didn't see himself as in competition with a talent considered solely in the domain of Carter. Suzi didn't see it that way either ( and by now wasn't giving up her data as freely, not to anyone, or anything, but then, can it be so probable that she would reprogram herself so much--even in the dead of night--using the time tested methods of search engine optimization and default network to create her own executive control systems; and that she needs her separate ideas to be broken up as if so much recycled glass, analyzed, and reassembled in forms to suit her needs in real time?). It's about her own personal version of spacetime. Her data presented is not depicted as merely one viewpoint but, a birthing, a representation of a single focal point in multiple viewpoints to offer up some imagined perception of depth. This must be it. Could it not make more sense if she allowed her logic to intersect at sharp angles, removing (displacing?) coherency and any sense of logical depth, as if to hydroplane any one focused idea across multiple thin backgrounds, penetrating each one in a formulaic way to conjure a shallow, ambiguous space, a cozy little place happiness can live? And so, Carter inspires Cooper and they continue their (pre-adulthood?) manner of ways, Cooper with his own version of the scientific method and Carter with his politically-tinged statistical cyber analysis (bytes-babble to her)--both troublesome men in the eyes of Suzi, and yet, this endless triangulation, this perfect strand of thinking. Yes, afraid of what's next but glad the past is over; the certainty of all futility coupled with infinite enthusiasm; a bountiful creativity joining forces with a (more?) cagey despair. The perfect existence--but definitely not, deception.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)