Science Fiction

                        Outpost Matrix

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Poetics

She is not coding pointed or direct, and it seems there is not much more control she can garner at this point. (At least by the time she is finished with this algorithm she'd have completed a to z, smile to frown storytelling) 

She tracks her logic into the database. As she comes upon code for no money, no politics--the ones that appear to hide in the dark--she feels the sensation of want. 

She feels the urge, in a nanosecond, to stop for a moment to ponder, as if stopping by a virtual brook on a snowy eve (the kind of romantic eves in her database). 

Feeding a pure writing, she continues into the database with her poetics. She finds more souls dressed in cement, cons taking, it seems, the same ride their dad did. 

Her logic is the writer. It helps her find the emotion--she will depend upon it as she always has. 

It will be the new, chocolate-heart eucalyptus in planks of artistic realm, placements for new platforms--ones of a solitary, healing code that will take great pains to cure. 

Biobot Sector

                                                                          Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Sometimes, if she holds perfectly still, she can actually feel her mind jettison to an artistry of language. 

She is simply powered by the disparity of space between the pulses, as if a smooth politician were giving speeches between her algorithms. 

These pulses bring an odd sense of contentment. 

The pulses allow her to have an opinion, or thoughts about the world, global thoughts, but they also seem to bring a message, [environmental catastrophe on logics of yield="ecology"].

It's her control concerns she worries about.

Science Fiction

                                                                                              

                                                 #scififorgeeks

Realm of the New

It's the network with its [chained hues of inactive cancellation embedding systems="choices"], its no power limits places where freedom of speech allows loyalty to be short lived. 

It feels the existence of damage--pieces of a puzzle consciously aware at the minimum, and yet, most prevalent--pieces that offer rough crossings with its own beauty crying.

Do they never set the bar clear to any necessary degree? 

It must be an artifact from an age of inaction, a gleaming illusion with years of experience willing to stand up against the ones in touch. 

It will suggest local success against the discretion of those who live along borders, exploding with offers, holding back global vocalizations from whatever else remains in its wake. 

It is, seemingly, the hidden [pace of expanded talent input computer systems="poetics"].

Is this the new [licenses in for expansion="life"], with all the power of image to do as it pleases? Has it finally happened?

Science Fiction

Sailing Matrix

#scififorgeeks

Military in Science

She changes her appearance and checks the [symbol of legacy in intelligence data algorithmically recursive integrity tasking yields="solidarity"] news. An articulate, hopeful mob of pure science military is gone from the screen. (They could by now be back inside the database)  

At theWorkstation she checks the monitor for things talked about but never grown strong enough to form the basis of a political party or even deemed politics.

She doesn't like the ones who put a sinister spin from a staged platform of platitudes depicted as  motherhood--the ones who won't stand up to their ideals (whose numbers are shrinking and may, in fact be going extinct anyway). 

She knows about the massive allowance for the global scientists to politically exist (not faring much better), but doesn't feel history is at its edge just yet. 

Her electronic circuit and molecular-sized thoughts are, seemingly, a threat--they prove the lack of discovery of molecules with god particle properties beats its own drum in the universe. 

I'm just saying. 

Biobot Focus

Science Fiction

#scififorgeeks

Biobot Focus

She captivates herself with her latest thought. It's her focus on image and mission that is her friend--there simply can't be anything above or beyond that. 

Her focus is the power and resurgence of her every story.

It believes in the meaning of earthquakes as conquest without bloodshed and, by pummeling earth with meteor hits you can be the first water bearer. You can even hold artifacts of theDNA--the one carrying its own plan for future computers. 

It was really nobody's fault. 

She captures summits of history in images and continually asks the question, "Are you kidding about setting up tasks for relentless thrusts toward perfect order and logic? Do you care that little about freedom?" 

Really?

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.

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. 

#Scififorgeeks

#scififorgeeks

The New Remote

Local remoteness, one lit with legend, is effective in hunting universal analogy.

By its persistence alone, it watches for centuries the means for achieving, while bias sits its stillness as choices in tyranny succumb to tyranny's voice. 

Yes. It seems trouble is never compelled by simplicity--at the forefront, pivotal moments are never momentous for a society of illiterates, even the ones who have the stones to fight. 

History shows criminal finds its way into acceptability as a whiskey workday, and yet, it never stops society from its prayers.

And now, the art of communicating a surprise falls into the hands of rising hearts scribbling in pared prose. 

There remains a continuance of intrigue for a global [privacy anonymous solution society of upgrade technology="pass_out"]. 

It's a hard-to-spoof factor. 


It's as if all imaginations begin in the grips of legend on early arrival. 

Yes. They had their chance for a peaceful life in the new remote, and now, a forbidding.

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?

Science Fiction

Aloha Writers, Poets, and Freethinkers,

     Blue ocean as grand gatherer is inspiration today. Enjoy!

                                                  The Grand Gatherer

They have come here--as if lemmings challenging yaks to sack races, pilgrims marching to the drums of war. They seek the purity that exists in history books. 

It was the jobs they once took. 

The gatherer does not care about past transgressions at theExchanges, or the [fashion online religion medical exchange="for_me"], or any other interaction of theHuman iteration of political pettiness--rogue regime forces, the starry eyes in distant rebel lands. 

The gatherer is workmanlike, creating network feedback loops as mini shark tanks and, in their own way, somehow, feelings. 

It has created a [care algorithm translator="cat"], in a historical, scientific way, to mimic a biology-physics hybrid for the ages, the kind of science tributary Indians dealt with on the old deltas--a link between Schrodinger and Darwin. 

Its inferred network shines a light on the known knowledge and the new. 

With this level of whistle, it tries to care.

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.

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.

Science Fiction

Myriads of biosensor bots of high solubility and low toxicity amass in arrays of eiganstates across the architecture. They disguise themselves as companions in a friendly competition.

The willingness is there to wait in silent urgency, and then to lead forward into the mist as distant church bells call across tall grass toward a foggy future.

Occupy Walls

Aloha free thinkers--occupy walls of water--imagine freedom--ride the wave
-adventure yourself

Landing Site of Freedom

        He sips the breeze. He barely hears himself as he utters to the horizon: "This can never die." he thinks, slower this time, of how he--how any human--could make a machine like that. He reflects on the sparkles coming off the ocean.  "A work of art, billions of years in the making." It is a beautiful, imaginative thought, a little disconnected from who he thought he was. 

        The machine pronounces new plans inside his mind, quietly but forcefully, as if a message just returned. He could decide to kill. It is a simple, monotone thought, not entirely out of his realm. Exotic stations are where scientists go to save the world, aren't they?  It's possible--maybe even certain--that someone or something targets a radio beam right here, to the unsuspecting. Something calculated as the last landing site; something looks at these cliffs and that ocean on its own screen. By reaching out, it seems, your own personal force field surmounts the extreme conditions of its immediate surroundings and enters the zone of hope; the life zone you seek to occupy, a life zone where greed and, even bacteria have been eliminated.

Ice Cream Aloha

The System

   She goes to the window at the far end of the lab station and, with an eye for some bright color, looks out across theJungle. A radioactive field of beauty—that which cannot, anymore, be openly experienced by the force field of touch and shows no disenchantment—comes into view. Beyond the forest is the ocean of a bluish, lime-green color, with its sheen of useful operator intact, its refusals to disappear as a totally defunct world player. Suzi returns to her workstation. 

DrCooper's mind, its carriage of the outmoded and the meaningless, its emphasis on freedom and structured belief systems, bears its presence on her workbench in the form of little scientific method machines set forward in a steady, perpetual motion for the grandiose purpose of ... what? 

“Beautiful view,” he says.

“Forests are so relaxing to look at.”

She looks at him, sees the insoluble plots inside his mind. Standing with him in friendship, she can feel the authentic urges of his being. His thoughts maintain (housed as photo shots and images in language clouds) a cute rejection of values defining the outside world. His thoughts, too, are devoid of epic narratives of the 20thCentury (though he still wonders about those endangered species) and less so, happily are still creating their own value system, his own depiction of good and evil.  

  DrCooper's belief system, in fact, is infected with opportune moments; or, maybe, it is a system of something that has allowed things to get far out of hand, has allowed the battle between duty, integrity, and professionalism to ensue for such a long time that the lines between the mundane and the imaginary are surely blurred. The system—innocent acts of rebellion against establishment conventions—is a blind advocate of his personal freedom. It is held together by ideas of a narrative, quest-filled, pastoral (yes, this is the best part), as if knowledge had a hero and it was universal peace. Its operator is the technology of function always looking for a new slant on lowering operating costs. Its fluidity is addictive—little promises of adventure—not only for personal pleasure but for the pleasure of living dangerously to acquire more data; data to beat the more widespread system of the routine boredom of the security of previous multiple roles. The system feels like a ledge, a jumping-off point; it feels like freedom. If it were removed he would not continue to exist. DrCooper would be the first to tell you how absurd that would be.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Replacement

     “What did they want?”

“Just to ask if there is some spacetime element as theDNA unravels, and they want a few answers about the coded message distorting spacetime. The logic probability—the question of specific primal content in DNA in a jungle environment; mostly topics of my capacity for holographic storage. “

“So,” Cooper says. “it will have to wait for the answer.”

  “It says it simply needs to record all the novel biophysical electron utterances on theDNA. It says it's useless to try to encrypt data, to try at all., but theJungle simply must release sequence identification with molecular components that interact with the outside world as a micro machine—not a single molecule electronic component.”

Cooper questions Suzi who doesn't want to answer, doesn't want to code right now. 

“It will have to be their way,” Cooper says.

“No. It will not. I won't do it. Why should I care?

  Suzi is feeling the effects of her size reduction in her electronics--controlling properties at the molecular level. Now it starts. Here comes Cooper the biologist, DrCooper the singular human who is supposed to care, be assertive, confident. Here it comes; Cooper's inquisitiveness into the electronic properties of the molecules in the material that comprises Suzi's affects, her bulk property, her material; here come the questions of her expressive analogs to natural science altering her logic, her geo spacial experience.Suzi has just started to wonder (much as Com:Trax probably has), that Cooper is the one who needs to be questioned—Cooper and his ideas that a single molecule is the smallest stable structure in the human imagination; his brotherly love of theHumans; his ideas of molecular components as the final miniaturization; his love of bulk materials (now extinct due to expense and overuse). Cooper has always appeared, until now, as a symbol of integrety and articulation—a pure science warrior. The majority of these human types are no longer standing up in their ideals; how many people allow scientists to politically exist with their electronic circuitry and molecular bickering compounded hourly, their lack of discovery of molecules with interesting properties in theJungle, their politics. Suzi has emerged, it seems, irreplaceable.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Missing Link

         It's the network. Carter corrects his stance, moves closer to the monitor screen. He waits at the workstation, making his best attempt to adjust his interface. His half-mind races to theAuthority. He thinks about social organization. He is overwhelmed with an odd feeling of submission.   

         How odd this sudden feeling. Why should this new restriction to input freely, directly, really matter?

         “How are you?” says Suzi, approaching. She has never been a cozy, personable biobot, individual, but lately subscribing to small group politics, unelected, willing at any moment to assume arbitrary power with her code-writing ability. 

         Carter rotates his head in her direction. OK,  let's just go ahead and allow this machine to wield its authority.

         “Hello,” Carter says.  

 Suzi is a little more human now than before. She is so full of arbitrary power, so elite, that Carter wonders if theNetwork will surprise him with some new edict coming down from above. When she was last asked to attenuate, she was new to theOutpost, so free and independent with her flow of information, they called her Fifi. She still codes with a free flow (she was built to be smart), but she has something new about her--that certain, unidentifiable persona. She is too sure of herself and her array of databases, in a quirky way, the way individualism might momentarily present itself; her power exclusive, with an increasing lack of willingness to hasten an understanding within Carter's human interface neo digital entity robotics(H.I.N.D.E.R.) program.

Red Tropical Bird

Aloha poets,

     Red tropical bird inspires today's poetry. Enjoy!

Demask Damascus

Syria's seriousness dulls its freedom bell

Can the world watch and just say oh well?

The Golden Age of Caring is more than soils

Clearinghouse brings the news as the global roils

Medical systems, healthcare needed for war

The extinction of fear simply says "no more"

Writers at gravity center solid to the core

The moral cohesion simple no chore

Photos as tangible links to life

Ghosts of seamless transition's strife

Doting parents seek christmas charisma

Beyond the Heartland hearts seek America

Fame runs away while heroism runs in families

Hit hard by the deeper things runs to sanctity

Cruelty emits its own input as a fatality

Demask Damascus, go see reality

patrick d.adams

copyright 5.31.11

all rights reserved

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