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.

Biobot Memory

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Memory

She recreates it on screen--it's theTigress who is, in the end, wild. Is she wild for reasons to simply recreate the lives of her forebears? 

There can be no more to it than this fact.

She believes that the creation of her sound wisdom is the creation of the sound of a drum--it offers  a surface life of its own.  

Yes. She must have carried these uncelebrated toils through eons of existence (her genes recording the famine in hero's veins, the plague (what better binder of humanity?), the extinctions of caring for the incinerated products before the floods and droughts finally snapped the blood of sharing. 

She would like the image to remain as more than a remnant of romantic vision--even the volcanic eruptions have their own topologically closed matrix for renewal, right? 

She really believes, more now than before, in the power of her memory, the memory just under her fingers. 

Science Fiction

Matrix Home

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Abode

She stands for a moment beyond the public conversations, listening with quick topic uprooters--new sproutings that would matter only to a writer's soul.

Her arrays of answers to the unforeseen encounter endless hokey-okays of theHumans. 

She is an inquisitive, rival-sided biobot of the new kind, with elements of appeal that grows, seemingly, with theJungle, only to disappear back into the dark shadows of database. 

It seems the island continues in its silences of space-time. It notices the myriads of reference datapops for uprooting proof, comfortable in its central role of the planned, ritual order, far removed from receiving clicks-in-a-database. 

The island's attribute as builder-of-influence has grown from traditional hierarchies. 

In the early days of the internet it was one of a variety of off-the-road, happy-to-see-you, not-too-tribal-for-society places, so full of its own myriads of networks, node trolls with grids racing in streams. (it simply added on, from the previous century, in such a way as to present its persona to theNetwork, expecting the plans of the later 21stCentury to alter natural courses to simply leave it alone) 

It's the island and all its attributes--nano-cellulose soil, non-clammering ritual decoders (not yet rejected as evil), able to house such things as cannibalism, to come back to life in a way no one would know--a true gem of the ocean. 

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Urgency Force

In theJungle, the biobots code in patterns at theWorkstation near the ocean. How amazing their existence is to theNetwork with their net worth, one that warrants no rants, being the most prominent of the promising and motivated by the force of urgency. 

In an instance in space-time there were once arrays of distances stuck to theHumans as if by flypaper, families coalescing, and then in another instance, it seems, there are discrete distances from theContinent with all the exotics of cosmopolitan images, requiring all change to come from above (wasn't that theHuman hope for centuries?). 

Here is where theNetwork takes on the color of stand-up comedian laying down on the job, receiving heartfelt code from biobot DNA. Here are the manufacturers included in a group of hopefuls in an art where truly the gamblers are. Here are the subscribers to a style of silence that becomes the silence that silences all deniers--the not-yet-relevant allowed to live in theJungle, a world where beanbags have no bearing. 

In the past, when depressions always preceded wars, when only people sleeping under blankets and eating off plates had their attention on the good old days, when dictators had the wrong idea, needing those willing to be chilled and choked into action, theNetwork had brought actionable examples and tunable rants into the mainstream, thinking of theHumans as, simply, playmates sitting pretty.

Eco SciFi

The Genes

          Suzi allows her algoritms to be the operator --doctors and hospital teams--from the jungle workstation and soon, in a strange way, senses a contentment. A very small contentment. There are theHumans to wonder about. In some small way it's a consolation. Here is theDNA; the last primal link and, even though she's stuck with the role of doctor of the entire human race since the online unified great health system technology unleashing fundamental failures(T.O.U.G.H.S.T.U.F.F.) demise of the early 21stCentury, she is still positive the remedy lay here and not in the space mirrors. Warm steppes of a sun-drenched island jungle containing its own life DNA! The place of  health strengtheners are here in biomass quantity; the rejuvenators of immune systems in an age when an immune system is important; DNA for  forms of various systems--heart systems, stomach systems, mouths; functioning systems built by the genes whose precursors lie in this forest.  She had a specific task assigned to do and she meticulously pieced it all together with her intelligence, intelligence derived from the balance of energy once levied within life forms, the ones that once lived. For now, only the genes remain.  

Hawaii Beach Walk

Aloha poets, 

     Hawaii beach walk inspires today's poetry. Enjoy!

Sovereignty's Severity

From within the pale of boundaries national

Comes the call for the internet irrational

No twister shelter can hold this fray

Internet nationality comes the day

National internet, security by any other name

Shifting centers of gravity, borders to tame

Can freedom ring in atmospheric void?

Freely, citizens a government toyed

Help, prayer surely has its limits too

Spray paint your message to get through

Does free to citizens mean citizens are free?

Urge for freedom remains as heart's buzzing bee

copyright 5.29. 11

patrick d.adams

all rights reserved

Ice Cream Aloha

The Power
     Suzi allows Cooper to view the old seldom-used guardian screen in the other room. She remains communicative to her task at hand, views the modernist writing of the later 20thCentury as a legacy online system text(L.O.S.T) in dire need of porting for a more useful application in her newly created  environment. It will carry out the instructions of her program. Is it too much to ask (or too little?) to write, as the regionally integrated primary(T.R.I.P.), to convey the functions of theOutpost for some virtual advertising agency(A.A.)? Suzi hasn't yet performed the task, at least not in their sequence, even of the basic (arithmetical?) input guaranteed logical output operations(I.G.L.O.O.) for ComTrax. At this point in time, she is not fully aware of her own processing online power(P.O.P.)--sure, she was built for more than one of many purposes--or precisely what it is that ComTrax wants. There has been at times certain inklings--the directive for a custom design for a specific application (a start of a surge in new demand for more apps?) a few months ago, a suspected standardization trend that appears to be, even now, rapidly accelerating--but still, there continues to emerge a new shroud of secrecy. There was the signals old urged logical(S.O.U.L.) coming from somewhere on ContinentZ (seeming to step away, at least momentarily, from the herd), the further miniaturizations (aren't things getting a bit too small?), the spread of devices and gadgets to mold the new post-modernism (absurdism?) lifestyle far from the expansive reaches of dedicated integrated server centers stretching(D.I.S.C.S.) atop the mountain ranges of both ContinentX and ContinentZ.
     ComTrax simply doesn't respond when an algorithm does not conform. All streamed data, in the eyes of ComTrax, is expected, carefully packaged under the guise of invitation, while the (uncaring?) central processors receive assigned metatabs under such headings as mankind algorithm number integrating and computing(M.A.N.I.A.C.), or worse, are deemed too electromechanical-like, assigned to bubble logic tasks headed for the single machine analog syndrome heaped electronically digital(S.M.A.S.H.E.D.). Suzi starts to feel a concern about Comtrax and Cooper; or, for that matter, with anybody or any manipulative thing; but at this moment she returns to her mathematical power tasking her own specific underwritten purposeful programmable logic enticement(S.U.P.P.L.E.), the job that at times (how?) keeps biologist Cooper excited here at theOutpost, and stays happy enough.
     ComTrax, for now, can wait.

Jungle Mist

Aloha poets,

     Jungle patterns behind blue mist inspire today's poetry. Enjoy!

Consolidation Consolation

Fated by nature confidentiality falls away

Secrets by admission hold very little sway

Hunger loves so much scarcity all the rage

Enter a new Confidentiality Extinction Age

Health record books amid apple and android

Communique abounds as if in data stream joy

Weapon system flair for all at once not trusted

What's not to know not confidentiality busted

Campaigns so true in such a promising way

Confidentiality never want so much to say

Comedian competitions or business play

Key to the city data base wanders astray

Lend all the ears to the simplest of criers

The digital ethers of pamphlets and flyers

Overcomes the unorthodox to see new way

Secrecy's permanent erosion comes to play

Frosty faces once shout as secrets swell hot

Banks like basketball make the second shot

Data streams on what will matter somehow

Secrecy in capitalism profit's true cash cow

Dishonesty in spoken word had its heyday

Logic bombs coerce commerce at the bay

Trade and shipping bring in all that new

Steamboats railroad canals once the few

Just one smile may lift your home noble

Homespun darkness creates new bubble

Diversity makes its play as secrecy wanes

Consolidation consolation prize now reigns

copyright 12.4.10

patrick d.adams

all rights reserved