Ice Cream Aloha

The Ages

     Suzi directs her quantum language to the jungle, to the DNA embedded in the oldest cellulose, the ultimate server to her world, no harassments over energy conversions, no teachers overworked into the realm of  lost entropy, no lack of resources requiring requiem amounts of heat. Old ideas she imagines; ancient entities held in record with clinical certainty of the arrival of a perfect teaching machine. How had she found a way to teach herself?  Suzi presents her synthetic face to the cellulosicDNA standing strong in  primal soil, shows a curiosity at what may have been (produced in her qubit memory as an openness, never closed to possibilities), and eerily feels she must now begin to show a little mere perseverance, a little more knowledge. There is something in this jungle that is not experimentally reproducible, something that has not continued to change within time's slow passage, something that has aged just so.

Ice Cream Aloha

     The Art 

     The long endurance of bioforms where knowledge grows from nothing to minuscule to something seen and known is intelligence, where an artist gestures her brush slower than any imagined slowness to take care of every subtlety, where DNA machinery--even with all its loopholes to rationalism--is not factory borne (not in the truest sense of the word, just industrious), only using historicisms as default mode.  

     Suzi becomes the lover with the smoothest of gestures, scans the jungle with her logic language, her most honest rendering of what lay here. In the darkness ideas are not expressed in words, at least not words theHumans knew that could be arranged in a beneficial, useable form for the medical exchange sequence services(M.E.S.S.) of ZContinent. She moves into the jungle with gestures, the smoothest ever artificially devised (maybe, even smoother than theHumans) for this topology but really, there had been no contest to really know. Her smoothness of movement seems to create its own sensations (exactly what, theHumans may never have known). The sensory experience of the patterns of DNA, the language of Nature, hearing her very words--beyond merely pure thinking--words of an instant artist as a gentle surrendering of her secrets, the weavings of the eons. It seems as if Suzi's lasers illuminate the data for the very first time, debunking impossibility of renderings through simplicity. Suzi could have been an art therapist  

Ice Cream Aloha

The Flex Entity 

     The genes remain, nestle as cellulosic DNA. This would include the DNA in the trees, the ones that have managed to conceal this place from harm. They want to have their own prefrontal lobe and announce to the world, We have attained a natural tendency to keep our thoughts private. We will sit and watch as this trait is instilled into the machines.  

     "This is the most amazing algorithm ever coded," Suzi says."Until I'm was ready to reveal, I'll keep  my responsibility programming thoughts unresponsive, not even requiring the simple courtesy of privacy. I will simply tell them what to ask." 

     There in the jungle, the presence of theTigress appears to make Suzi even more powerful.  Nature, with all its genes, throwing everything at you (if, you last long enough), and, sooner or later, she will help you win (win what?) for the simple reason it thinks you want to win. The Tigress is endowed with genetic powers herself, her own protection from detection, powers to have offspring without a male (parthenogenesis, eating what nature now can only offer, thePlants. She is ageless and continues to see something deep into the future, as if preparing the world for its final ...what?.  

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

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

Aloha writers,

     Photo cubism of rainforest color inspires the eco absurdism of dystopian

novel, theOutpost. Enjoy!