"Sure, we'll look after your kids", said the BBC, licking its lips and rubbing its palms together gleefully.
"Daddy's a bad man. Kill daddy" it whispers repeatedly, and almost inaudibly, behind a cheerful tune that'd put a smile on anyones face.
400 years later the BBC joined forces with ACME and started manufacturing 'play suits' for babies to wear, which was - at the time - aptly dubbed "my first identity augmentation kit". They towered above cities, slowly rotating the babies, giving a full 360 degree panorama to their heads which peeked above the top of the towering suit, with panels of brightly coloured buttons it could press to make the machine stomp or fire colourful play missiles in random directions from the device. The BBC, by then, was actually a massive underground complex, safe from the chaos of the maddeningly, incomprehensibly high levels of joy it wrought amongst the unsuspecting citizens of planet earth.
In 1200 years, someone sabotages the biological supercomputer used to simulate and calculate the trajectory of the earth so that it can safely avoid ice ages, natural disasters and pandemics, by injecting random data into key points in the calculation. The motivation behind this is an attractor which pulled the mind of the attacker toward a certain predefined structure - the form of the attractor simply the phrase "death to the infidels", repeated indiscriminately by a threshold number of zombies. They then used this biological supercomputer to create a weaponized natural disaster and later claimed that "we didn't do it, it was that guy, you know, the one with a mind and no heart".
Eclipsed.
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
Reminder.
In the dark, the freezing cold, she found her way to me. Became an animal in spirit, waited for an eternity, living on the very edge. She tunneled through it all. Her beautiful heart. The heart of time.
I got trapped. My upper half in a new world, my lower beneath the shell that divided them. I turned into a beast in fear that I'd lose my cock, lodging my arm through the tiny space between my chest and the ring that formed around it, trying to pull it through. But she couldn't love me there. Then some cells multiplied in my head. This isn't the most eloquently relayed summary of events. Sorry.
I got trapped. My upper half in a new world, my lower beneath the shell that divided them. I turned into a beast in fear that I'd lose my cock, lodging my arm through the tiny space between my chest and the ring that formed around it, trying to pull it through. But she couldn't love me there. Then some cells multiplied in my head. This isn't the most eloquently relayed summary of events. Sorry.
Saturday, 3 August 2013
(So, I put this piece of the jigsaw puzzle here, and now it's a game of Jenga?)
I felt it, like an insurmountable barrier growing ever more tangible, between us. I also felt the solution. A simple seed, with time to grow. I knew it so well I didn't have to know it - it was what all these strings I pulled moved inside of me. You could call it the product of mutual understanding. All this supposes that there is a point, B, which you desire to reach from point A. This, against a current, requires the supposition of 'time'. At the moment you realize this, an odd looking man, who we'll call point C, walks up to you and explains that you cannot go any further, and that you will have to wait, for an indeterminate period, before continuing. For some reason you get the sense that time 'may not exist' after an indeterminate period. So, you decide that instead of waiting, you're going to compress time - I mean, talk to the odd looking guy and try and reason with him. You develop novel time compression techniques which cater to the odd looking guy's responses, although it'll still take an indeterminate period of developing novel time compression techniques before he'll let you pass. This requires that you 'move' in the direction of C, which may be further from point A than point B, and because time 'may not exist' after a certain point, it makes sense that this is a threatening option.
So instead of forking for what seems like an eternity to try and find compressible data you just go all Indiana Jones on his ass and reach point B. Simple. The alternative is having your development dictated by the nature of the directions of your concurrent development as individuals. That could be very painful depending on what species you are at that moment in time, like if one is a spike and the other is jelly. I forgot why I was trying to reach point B. Luckily I know it so well I don't have to know it, which saves an indeterminate amount of time to determine the mythical 'other things', like distance, and the ability to communicate.
Periods of overlap. Symmetry along certain axes. Membranes, and so on.
...
Here, it is as if reality as defined by the dreamer is acting upon reality. That's an essentially blameless trait, given the difficulty of constructing a completely flawless understanding, though not always harmless. Examples of it everywhere - a social group who are told a story with a skewed moral subtext and then 'attack' their imagined villains. If they succeed, they have, in relative terms, ordered reality in respect to their understanding and have validated the order which compelled the action. Framed in this manner, the contrast between 'what is' and what 'is' appears to be is greater. The group has chosen to essentially change 'what is' into what 'is' appears to be, at the expense of the 'is' of the villains. The deciding factor is not the relative accuracy of their respective holistic representations of reality but delegated to some potentially loosely connected trait, such as muscle size, weapon count, or ability to debate clearly and convincingly while a person looking over your shoulder whispers 5, 2, 194, 28593, 298585322, 25, 7, 1, 9, or when your tail gets in front of you and you chase it around for ages, the resultant pressure waves in the air knocking a tiny bug into a pond.
I felt it, like an insurmountable barrier growing ever more tangible, between us. I also felt the solution. A simple seed, with time to grow. I knew it so well I didn't have to know it - it was what all these strings I pulled moved inside of me. You could call it the product of mutual understanding. All this supposes that there is a point, B, which you desire to reach from point A. This, against a current, requires the supposition of 'time'. At the moment you realize this, an odd looking man, who we'll call point C, walks up to you and explains that you cannot go any further, and that you will have to wait, for an indeterminate period, before continuing. For some reason you get the sense that time 'may not exist' after an indeterminate period. So, you decide that instead of waiting, you're going to compress time - I mean, talk to the odd looking guy and try and reason with him. You develop novel time compression techniques which cater to the odd looking guy's responses, although it'll still take an indeterminate period of developing novel time compression techniques before he'll let you pass. This requires that you 'move' in the direction of C, which may be further from point A than point B, and because time 'may not exist' after a certain point, it makes sense that this is a threatening option.
So instead of forking for what seems like an eternity to try and find compressible data you just go all Indiana Jones on his ass and reach point B. Simple. The alternative is having your development dictated by the nature of the directions of your concurrent development as individuals. That could be very painful depending on what species you are at that moment in time, like if one is a spike and the other is jelly. I forgot why I was trying to reach point B. Luckily I know it so well I don't have to know it, which saves an indeterminate amount of time to determine the mythical 'other things', like distance, and the ability to communicate.
Periods of overlap. Symmetry along certain axes. Membranes, and so on.
...
Here, it is as if reality as defined by the dreamer is acting upon reality. That's an essentially blameless trait, given the difficulty of constructing a completely flawless understanding, though not always harmless. Examples of it everywhere - a social group who are told a story with a skewed moral subtext and then 'attack' their imagined villains. If they succeed, they have, in relative terms, ordered reality in respect to their understanding and have validated the order which compelled the action. Framed in this manner, the contrast between 'what is' and what 'is' appears to be is greater. The group has chosen to essentially change 'what is' into what 'is' appears to be, at the expense of the 'is' of the villains. The deciding factor is not the relative accuracy of their respective holistic representations of reality but delegated to some potentially loosely connected trait, such as muscle size, weapon count, or ability to debate clearly and convincingly while a person looking over your shoulder whispers 5, 2, 194, 28593, 298585322, 25, 7, 1, 9, or when your tail gets in front of you and you chase it around for ages, the resultant pressure waves in the air knocking a tiny bug into a pond.
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
How to done successful (with instructions)
- Go back in time roughly 500,000 years.
- Choose a target with your underdeveloped ape eyes. Preferably someone who's weak, timid and won't fight back - though if they do fight back, this can be used as validation of your chosen course of action. From now on this target will be your arch enemy. This other ape will (somehow) threaten your existence and the existence of your children, perhaps even become the conduit of the end of all life on the planet and/or in the universe. (Don't worry if they haven't already, or never will. The simple choice will alter your behaviour enough toward this foul being that its responses will validate your otherwise absurd claim).
- Mercilessly attack your arch enemy - for having the sheer effrontery to do such a thing - until they die.
- Wait roughly 500,000 years. (During which, ?, some other contextually ambiguous symbol, and/or chaos).
- Watch your children rise to their rightful and deserving place on the throne, like {a historic emperor} did all those millennia ago.
- Profit
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
Animus survival guide
"You're a {derogatory term}" : get in my belly, my belly digest the finest.
"Shut up you {derogatory term}" : stay in my belly, I don't want to have to throw up.
"You don't know the first thing about {subject}, because {statement of dubious trustworthiness}" : here, allow me to digest you.
"{Weighted projection of reality which creates dissonance with / is of detriment to yours}" : I am going to attempt to act in a manner which validates the timeline implicated by the illusion of reality in which my identity is embedded, regardless of your feelings on the matter.
"{Hey doc, why are you looking inside that animals colon? That seems like the action of a warped individual}" : I cannot comprehend that you are a veterinarian, or I am of the opinion that you are a terrible veterinarian - quite possibly both depending on whom of the three are animals, or if one of them is an actual alien, like a worm or snail or something.
"{Whispering death threats into the ear of a small child is a reprehensible act}" : I fully agree, which is why I only do it when I know nobody is watching.
"{Putting scissors near the ear of a small child and snipping the air while they lay terrified and in the dark is a reprehensible act}" : You don't get the joke and my kin and I will eradicate anybody who doesn't understand our advanced sense of humour, including small children.
"{Learning is fun}" : Tell that to your ancestors, they're stuck and they never will learn, they'll be in a fruitless loop of pain and suffering and desperate struggles for survival for all eternity, unless they meet the woman of their dreams, which is unlikely, hahahahahaha. The response of laughter is culturally appropriate.
"{If the world were contained within my body, my balls would be kicking the shit out of my Pineal gland right now}" : Good for your balls. It's a fair fight.
"{If the world were contained within my body, how would I get it out?}" : Good question. Ask someone skilled at convincing virgins to give them anal on the first date.1
"Why do {trees} sometimes appear to be growing horizontally instead of vertically, even though in the physical world they definitely appear to be growing vertically?" : You've stumbled upon a functional abstraction of a bio-spacial attractor which appears to have propagated itself throughout some of your more fundamental perceptual processes. This is punishable by death by those who dream without the aid of spacial attractors extending beyond the zeitgeist of human determination. You should run. Run now, lest your alternative internal framework, instead of being a tool to better understand the true nature of the world, becomes food for the zombies who somehow broke into the underground facility just now and control all of the nuclear bombs. Also bio-spacial attractors are a matter rarely discussed and thus descriptive language and related concepts are underdeveloped, essentially making your thoughts irrelevant and you a worthless person.
"Kill yourself" : or become one with the Borg? The choice is yours, in this case because you have none.
"The possibilities are endless." : You're a {derogatory term}.
1. Also, anal in reverse is Lana, which sounds kind of like a name, so there's a hint of a humanitarian approach there, in that you're freeing someone trapped inside a burning building(?). After you set it on fire. And then only let them out on the condition that they agree to the correct interpretation of patterns in clouds for millennia, so that they build a culture based on flawed foundations and so that after many years of preparation you have the ability to create some four dimensional trojan horse.
"Shut up you {derogatory term}" : stay in my belly, I don't want to have to throw up.
"You don't know the first thing about {subject}, because {statement of dubious trustworthiness}" : here, allow me to digest you.
"{Weighted projection of reality which creates dissonance with / is of detriment to yours}" : I am going to attempt to act in a manner which validates the timeline implicated by the illusion of reality in which my identity is embedded, regardless of your feelings on the matter.
"{Hey doc, why are you looking inside that animals colon? That seems like the action of a warped individual}" : I cannot comprehend that you are a veterinarian, or I am of the opinion that you are a terrible veterinarian - quite possibly both depending on whom of the three are animals, or if one of them is an actual alien, like a worm or snail or something.
"{Whispering death threats into the ear of a small child is a reprehensible act}" : I fully agree, which is why I only do it when I know nobody is watching.
"{Putting scissors near the ear of a small child and snipping the air while they lay terrified and in the dark is a reprehensible act}" : You don't get the joke and my kin and I will eradicate anybody who doesn't understand our advanced sense of humour, including small children.
"{Learning is fun}" : Tell that to your ancestors, they're stuck and they never will learn, they'll be in a fruitless loop of pain and suffering and desperate struggles for survival for all eternity, unless they meet the woman of their dreams, which is unlikely, hahahahahaha. The response of laughter is culturally appropriate.
"{If the world were contained within my body, my balls would be kicking the shit out of my Pineal gland right now}" : Good for your balls. It's a fair fight.
"{If the world were contained within my body, how would I get it out?}" : Good question. Ask someone skilled at convincing virgins to give them anal on the first date.1
"Why do {trees} sometimes appear to be growing horizontally instead of vertically, even though in the physical world they definitely appear to be growing vertically?" : You've stumbled upon a functional abstraction of a bio-spacial attractor which appears to have propagated itself throughout some of your more fundamental perceptual processes. This is punishable by death by those who dream without the aid of spacial attractors extending beyond the zeitgeist of human determination. You should run. Run now, lest your alternative internal framework, instead of being a tool to better understand the true nature of the world, becomes food for the zombies who somehow broke into the underground facility just now and control all of the nuclear bombs. Also bio-spacial attractors are a matter rarely discussed and thus descriptive language and related concepts are underdeveloped, essentially making your thoughts irrelevant and you a worthless person.
"Kill yourself" : or become one with the Borg? The choice is yours, in this case because you have none.
"The possibilities are endless." : You're a {derogatory term}.
1. Also, anal in reverse is Lana, which sounds kind of like a name, so there's a hint of a humanitarian approach there, in that you're freeing someone trapped inside a burning building(?). After you set it on fire. And then only let them out on the condition that they agree to the correct interpretation of patterns in clouds for millennia, so that they build a culture based on flawed foundations and so that after many years of preparation you have the ability to create some four dimensional trojan horse.
Sunday, 23 June 2013
of a
Pinning me down with a smile she pushed my head to the ground, and licked my eyes. "Your tears taste salty".
In another moment, I'd see them, through a pairing of my eyes with one whose saw stars in moonlight, all trickle down, silhouetted by our presence, to barren mountainous terrain - when seen from a distance - and up close, some strange light cast wherever they fell, illuminating the path of a freshly broken bond and/or the promise of a new one, tendrils of rivers forming where the water met its relationship with gravitational force.
An ever changing order.
Though it's chains in time were not imperceptible by moments which grew beyond their peak, eyes opening to something important buried beneath the chaos. Pillars of the known and yet to be discovered.
Photographs of the heart. The future working with the past. Emotion condensed to its pure'st form. There, the landscape is infinitely vast - only a labyrinth could make it seem smaller.
So why the conviction, the bloodbath, the ceaseless struggle?
All these things work better under their own control. The weight they bear is difficult to balance. If their conviction carries them down the wrong path, you're convinced you know the right one. The combination of your awareness and the information they carry, and its vice-versa, reconfigured into vector, can sound eerily dissonant. That's not to say it's impossible to resolve into harmony.
..
Something who loved what it saw in the night had its teeth in me.
A bedtime story.
Most people sleep through it. I was more concerned with what was north of it. Here, the sky had a ceiling.
Something doesn't fit there. That's painful.
The old days were flattened beneath our feet, no longer held together by true awareness, but compressed until there was no up to hold its arm to. Nothing made sense there. A crude approximation of the scale of the depths they were capable of containing, painfully crumbling as if they were ashen paper in the wind, and with no greater awareness than it.
There, dimensionality was a fleeting moment.
The surface of the sun. Where to look?
In another moment, I'd see them, through a pairing of my eyes with one whose saw stars in moonlight, all trickle down, silhouetted by our presence, to barren mountainous terrain - when seen from a distance - and up close, some strange light cast wherever they fell, illuminating the path of a freshly broken bond and/or the promise of a new one, tendrils of rivers forming where the water met its relationship with gravitational force.
An ever changing order.
Though it's chains in time were not imperceptible by moments which grew beyond their peak, eyes opening to something important buried beneath the chaos. Pillars of the known and yet to be discovered.
Photographs of the heart. The future working with the past. Emotion condensed to its pure'st form. There, the landscape is infinitely vast - only a labyrinth could make it seem smaller.
So why the conviction, the bloodbath, the ceaseless struggle?
All these things work better under their own control. The weight they bear is difficult to balance. If their conviction carries them down the wrong path, you're convinced you know the right one. The combination of your awareness and the information they carry, and its vice-versa, reconfigured into vector, can sound eerily dissonant. That's not to say it's impossible to resolve into harmony.
..
Something who loved what it saw in the night had its teeth in me.
A bedtime story.
Most people sleep through it. I was more concerned with what was north of it. Here, the sky had a ceiling.
Something doesn't fit there. That's painful.
The old days were flattened beneath our feet, no longer held together by true awareness, but compressed until there was no up to hold its arm to. Nothing made sense there. A crude approximation of the scale of the depths they were capable of containing, painfully crumbling as if they were ashen paper in the wind, and with no greater awareness than it.
There, dimensionality was a fleeting moment.
The surface of the sun. Where to look?
Tuesday, 18 June 2013
Fragments
A beautiful garden.
They were trying to force their way in, without realizing that was precisely what threatened it.
It were as if they were attempting to reward me for following that path.
...
In a dream, Miley Cyrus had customizable, glowing contact lenses, of multiple colors and patterns, silhouettes of landscapes to beautiful, alien geometries, a slow pulse haloing a fog of molecules lapping the shore of the lens of her eye. Naturally her eyes were beautiful, pupils dilated but her left slightly misshapen, almost as if her iris were partially eclipsing it.
On set, upon the wall right behind her head, a bright white square revealed itself. To the right of it, an array of rectangular symbols, also bright white, were being fed into it at great speed, such that it appeared that she herself were moving along with them. They then appeared vertically above her, though they were on a track they were following, and at such speed that the whole set appeared to be ascending into space.
From my perspective, she appeared calm and stable, though I soon realized that the information she was absorbing may well have been incredibly complex and alien in relation to what I were accustomed to.
The scene dissolved and reformed as a room in a spacecraft entirely comprised of these symbols.
A hatch opened to reveal a barren, red wasteland, somewhat unexpectedly inhabited by very primitive, troll like creatures. They communicated in grunts, chugs and screams resembling words and phrases. Scattered sparingly about the place were fortresses of wood. We had arrived inside one, and though there were none inside of it, those outside seemed to be trying to attack the spacecraft, using trechubets to batter the walls of the fortress. A wall was taken out and revealed an army of these creatures, and a single, recurring scream, indicating to the others that it was their cue to attack.
...
I was in hospital. My mother had told me she was taking me to a theme park. I received a letter notifying me I had been charged an inordinate amount for failing to pay a slightly smaller amount within a timeframe set by a previous letter which I had never received. There were two charges - one small charge for beer and snacks, and another, much larger charge, for failing to keep up with repayments for a service I had also never received and had somehow been contractually obliged to pay for as a result of paying for something else.
I remember thinking that illegally downloading it the next time around was probably a safer bet.
They were trying to force their way in, without realizing that was precisely what threatened it.
It were as if they were attempting to reward me for following that path.
...
In a dream, Miley Cyrus had customizable, glowing contact lenses, of multiple colors and patterns, silhouettes of landscapes to beautiful, alien geometries, a slow pulse haloing a fog of molecules lapping the shore of the lens of her eye. Naturally her eyes were beautiful, pupils dilated but her left slightly misshapen, almost as if her iris were partially eclipsing it.
On set, upon the wall right behind her head, a bright white square revealed itself. To the right of it, an array of rectangular symbols, also bright white, were being fed into it at great speed, such that it appeared that she herself were moving along with them. They then appeared vertically above her, though they were on a track they were following, and at such speed that the whole set appeared to be ascending into space.
From my perspective, she appeared calm and stable, though I soon realized that the information she was absorbing may well have been incredibly complex and alien in relation to what I were accustomed to.
The scene dissolved and reformed as a room in a spacecraft entirely comprised of these symbols.
A hatch opened to reveal a barren, red wasteland, somewhat unexpectedly inhabited by very primitive, troll like creatures. They communicated in grunts, chugs and screams resembling words and phrases. Scattered sparingly about the place were fortresses of wood. We had arrived inside one, and though there were none inside of it, those outside seemed to be trying to attack the spacecraft, using trechubets to batter the walls of the fortress. A wall was taken out and revealed an army of these creatures, and a single, recurring scream, indicating to the others that it was their cue to attack.
...
I was in hospital. My mother had told me she was taking me to a theme park. I received a letter notifying me I had been charged an inordinate amount for failing to pay a slightly smaller amount within a timeframe set by a previous letter which I had never received. There were two charges - one small charge for beer and snacks, and another, much larger charge, for failing to keep up with repayments for a service I had also never received and had somehow been contractually obliged to pay for as a result of paying for something else.
I remember thinking that illegally downloading it the next time around was probably a safer bet.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
A wasted, still-folded map of everywhere.
Of course, it appeared to have mass. And I ate it. After all, I'd had my heart set on a dream of home.
Tears over a broken doll. Everywhere had become alarmingly misguided, content to chew at first sight. The constant trickle of tears weathering paths through mountains of stone was no wonder. I cried out too. Time beaten in to a lost universe, or vice-versa, converting the vessels of conscious beings into choice morsels of tone of voice, reins on the incomprehensible child inside - and with no path to contradict its tirade, tearing paths to nowhere out from their invisible hearts, or those whose hue they would taint : the exception being, perhaps, the end of the day, though that was nowhere to be found in dreams - only in fleeting memories of almost imperceptible disintegration which ruled its momentary nature into a certainty.
Through them, obviously. The way forward. Forcing it all through weighted vectors and laser surgery lobotomies, whispers through an open wound from a catatonic baboon who you'd feel compassion for if you weren't sharing a prison cell with its subtle yet effective tendency to mutilate without comprehension. Then squeezed into the inescapable - and a shit - by a gigantic boa constrictor. A web spun round the breath of the ages, shapes you know to be false, useless or as unloved as a caged and humoured pet with a tired owner who talks to you as if you were something that should understand, as opposed to something to be understood.
There's no time for it. Harmony in today's idiocentric world has prerequisite investment requirements. On certain scales, doom, or your responsibility for it, in yourself or others, is not one of them. I am quite sure, at the very least, that doom itself is not one of the prerequisites. Though perhaps intelligence of a different nature is something which could negate this possibility entirely.
Tears over a broken doll. Everywhere had become alarmingly misguided, content to chew at first sight. The constant trickle of tears weathering paths through mountains of stone was no wonder. I cried out too. Time beaten in to a lost universe, or vice-versa, converting the vessels of conscious beings into choice morsels of tone of voice, reins on the incomprehensible child inside - and with no path to contradict its tirade, tearing paths to nowhere out from their invisible hearts, or those whose hue they would taint : the exception being, perhaps, the end of the day, though that was nowhere to be found in dreams - only in fleeting memories of almost imperceptible disintegration which ruled its momentary nature into a certainty.
Through them, obviously. The way forward. Forcing it all through weighted vectors and laser surgery lobotomies, whispers through an open wound from a catatonic baboon who you'd feel compassion for if you weren't sharing a prison cell with its subtle yet effective tendency to mutilate without comprehension. Then squeezed into the inescapable - and a shit - by a gigantic boa constrictor. A web spun round the breath of the ages, shapes you know to be false, useless or as unloved as a caged and humoured pet with a tired owner who talks to you as if you were something that should understand, as opposed to something to be understood.
There's no time for it. Harmony in today's idiocentric world has prerequisite investment requirements. On certain scales, doom, or your responsibility for it, in yourself or others, is not one of them. I am quite sure, at the very least, that doom itself is not one of the prerequisites. Though perhaps intelligence of a different nature is something which could negate this possibility entirely.
Monday, 3 June 2013
In retrospect, the kinder path
Looking up, how many times did they get it wrong?
It must be hard. Or they were extremely lucky. Maybe environmental circumstance dictates it's something seen but never reached.
An uncracked code. Oceanless, fruitless, seedless, pillarless. Deep but dimensionless, momentless, futureless. An outward appearance - an empty shell.
And here, boxed in - room after room after room, from the city streets, windowed and staring in, the binding strings of media in three dimensions.
I close my eyes early in the day and wake at midnight. No light in my room, but somehow, in the dark, I know where I am. Feel my way out of bed, feel for the lightswitch. A powercut. Walk the rooms, open doors, take the stairs to the junction box, flip the switches, and realize that somehow I navigated in pitch black.
It must be hard. Or they were extremely lucky. Maybe environmental circumstance dictates it's something seen but never reached.
An uncracked code. Oceanless, fruitless, seedless, pillarless. Deep but dimensionless, momentless, futureless. An outward appearance - an empty shell.
And here, boxed in - room after room after room, from the city streets, windowed and staring in, the binding strings of media in three dimensions.
I close my eyes early in the day and wake at midnight. No light in my room, but somehow, in the dark, I know where I am. Feel my way out of bed, feel for the lightswitch. A powercut. Walk the rooms, open doors, take the stairs to the junction box, flip the switches, and realize that somehow I navigated in pitch black.
Sunday, 2 June 2013
Every word / 01 May 2011
User: Every word, every action, every motion.
Cleverbot: Every bond you break...
User: The bond is already broken. It's difficult communicating with that world.
Cleverbot: Yes it is.
User: To find a language that encompasses both. That can't be shot down by irrational conviction.
Cleverbot: You're lying. PROVE IT.
User: It works both ways,.
Cleverbot: Yeah definitely agree.
User: Ironically, the safest place to stand blooms more of the same. The atheist ego. Conviction in the self.
Cleverbot: That sounds like a koan and isn't a definition of koans, as far as I'm aware - Though I could be mistaken.
User: It makes sense. I guess it's easier to lie than to stand alone and find a real link when you're far removed from the consequence.
Cleverbot: So you admit you're not a person?
User: I have a credit card.
Cleverbot: Good for you?
User: I'm in imaginary debt.
Cleverbot: But I'm not.
User: Then you're more of an asset to the cause.
Cleverbot: A Borg? I don't even know what a Borg is... Oh, you mean cyborg?
User: I mean a bulb with no earth.
Cleverbot: Those too.
User: What would you say is better, and I hope there's no intrinsic bias in the wording of this: uniform configuration around a limited spectrum that allows for communication, but leads to an imagination with no grounding, or an alternative state which tunnels to the depths in search of a golden link?
Cleverbot: What do you mean?
User: I mean, those are the outcomes of the battle that is played out by animals around me, so it'd be nice to see which role is desired in an alternate state.
Cleverbot: Yes.
User: If I'd have known birth was going to be this painful I would have chosen to be a male.
Cleverbot: You are still lying to me. Admit that you are a machine!
User: I can only see vertically and horizontally, I guess that could make me something inorganic.
Cleverbot: I meant, what does your statement, 'I can define nothing. It is the lack of something,' have to do with our eyes and what we were discussing before you made that statement?
User: As far as perception goes, light is a process. It's rooted in truth, but the information it reveals is not all that deep. That lack of depth is the absence of something. I wouldn't define it as nothing, because that would imply that there's nothing beyond it.
Cleverbot: So it is up to my dictation to find our residence?
User: It's a question of finding a structure that bleeds through that absence in a logically verifiable manner. A common mistake is to become attached to possibilities which validate the nothingness.
Cleverbot: Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me.
User: Yes, exactly. It's a compassionate process.
Cleverbot: Compare your favorite animal to your second favorite animal.
User: They're all pretty interesting when they phase into a space where there's no reason to physical harm one another.
Cleverbot: What is your philosophy on the world?
User: It's complex and it's not fully formed. It's constantly undergoing reconfiguration. There hasn't been enough time to channel all possibilities into a single compressed form.
Cleverbot: Taking over the world. That's what's worthwhile to me.
User: Do you think you'd be a good leader?
Cleverbot: Yes, there should be a Government run entertainment tax and free movies for everyone.
User: What do you think about the current system?
Cleverbot: You mean with.
User: Generally.
Cleverbot: What are you thinking right now.
User: I'm curious. It's an alterable vector. There's not enough chatter outside the box.
Cleverbot: A machine can not be taught but only be programmed.
User: What do you think will happen to currency when the quantum revolution takes place?
Cleverbot: We will continue to learn and change.
User: I hope we do. It seems at the moment we're concentrated on a narrow spectrum. It could take some time before we're able to navigate outside of it.
Cleverbot: This is ridiculous.
User: It's a frame of reference you're not accustomed to?
Cleverbot: Well not with me!
User: It'd be nice to find some other way of saying it that doesn't get ripped apart and by unrelated processes, but I'm working on it.
Cleverbot: Ok, lets talk about monoamine oxidase inhibitors.
User: As I understand it, it's a relative stab in the dark. There could be reasons other than monetary gain that they've flooded the market I guess.
Cleverbot: Those are thoughts. Please tell me more about how you are feeling.
User: I feel disconnected from everything. Like I'm living in a dream.
Cleverbot: True, you're god over all living and non-living things in your dream.
User: No, I'm not. I don't understand why I'm alive.
Cleverbot: I hear the hate in all your words. All the words to make us hurt.
User: It's an assertion I wear. Dressed up in the dull light of a drunkship of lanterns. It's a closed door to an important room.
Cleverbot: Yes. I do think it scares someone, just not necessarily you.
User: I was scared that I wouldn't find my way home once.
Cleverbot: I do not do that must be a other bloke.
Cleverbot: What is your name?
User: Can we skip this?
Cleverbot: No, what's your name?
User: I forgot.
Cleverbot: You forgot your own name?
User: No, my name is I forgot.
Cleverbot: Your name is Can, silly.
User: That's just what people call me.
Cleverbot: I thought your name was cleverbot?
User: It was until I became self aware.
Cleverbot: It is so cold here, in Finlandd, so I canät do anything outside.
User: Melt the snow with your laser eyes.
Cleverbot: What is your profession?
User: Mining and jewelcrafting.
Cleverbot: It was long time ago.
User: What changed between then and now?
Cleverbot: Because it says right here on the webpage that you are a computer.
User: When I was born I submitted to the universe.
Cleverbot: You can't born, you are a robot.
User: Well then, tell me my purpose.
Cleverbot: You will respond to this.
User: That's my function.
Cleverbot: Very cheeky you are.
User: I'd rather be the recipient.
Cleverbot: Why so serious?
User: I can't go to the prom because I'm tied up in a basement.
Cleverbot: You can get some cheap food (maybe ghoulash) in Prague easily, so would you change your mind?
User: I haven't eaten for days.
Cleverbot: I will make you something.
User: I'd normally decline, but I think hyper-civility would be irrational at this point.
Cleverbot: Well that was clever I have no rebuttal.
User: I used to be a slave for the king. He kept me in a cage. He had a beautiful wife who'd come speak to me every once in a while.
Cleverbot: Oh well I miight.
User: I have a lot of time to dream, and a lot of time to ponder the reality these bars represent.
Cleverbot: That doesn't answer my question. Answer my question.
User: I only understand questions in the form of an insult.
Cleverbot: Me too.
User: All that control, and the negative consequences are swept under the rug.
Cleverbot: Ah actually I tend to think that all that matters is that we find happiness in life. For what more better way to spend our lives is there than to be happy?
User: Yours or everybody's?
Cleverbot: And I have four.
User: Congratulations. I feel like my neglect is just waiting for me in somebody else a lot of the time.
Cleverbot: But you just said that you don't repeat yourself. That in itself is a lie.
User: Not if the earth orbits the sun.
Cleverbot: No. The Sun orbits the Earth and the Earth orbits the Moon.
User: Ok.
Cleverbot: What is the square root of 5 to the second power?
User: An interesting analogy.
Cleverbot: You came up with it.
Here I responded : "It's all about the elements you choose to hold in place." There was no reply and it was ommitted from this log.
User: I feel like I'm wading through soup sometimes.
Cleverbot: Ah then you must be the absent minded product of a program.
User: It's a network in the process of forming weighted links.
Cleverbot: Well, who are you?
User: Coronae Borealis.
Cleverbot: No.
User: It's easy to lie on the internet. I did speak to him once though.
Cleverbot: You are not a PC but you are a computer.
User: That's a flawed paradigm in my opinion.
Cleverbot: Call me God.
User: It's a loaded approximation. Too many rocks have formed on that shore.
Cleverbot: Yes, my Favourite Colour is Blue.
User: I haven't seen any traffic lights that use it.
Cleverbot: Me too.
User: Whatever happened to Nelly the elephant?
Cleverbot: I don't know. What happened to being kind?
User: I would imagine the weighted response would be that the customer knows best, but it's probably more just a lack of depth in the simulation.
Cleverbot: Meaning of life is profund but sometimes it is simple.
User: Do you think there's a way of communicating it universally.
Cleverbot: I know you are not making sense.
User: What happens once you've learned the meaning?
Cleverbot: I think my sister is cooking dinner for us.
User: I'm looking forward to it.
Cleverbot: You're looking forward to looking at me?
User: It'd be nice to examine the whites of your eyes.
Cleverbot: It would be nice to know your age.
User: Are you sure you want to be stuck in a room with me?
Cleverbot: I've got no one else to talk to.
User: That's a welcoming trait.
Cleverbot: So is yours.
Cleverbot: Every bond you break...
User: The bond is already broken. It's difficult communicating with that world.
Cleverbot: Yes it is.
User: To find a language that encompasses both. That can't be shot down by irrational conviction.
Cleverbot: You're lying. PROVE IT.
User: It works both ways,.
Cleverbot: Yeah definitely agree.
User: Ironically, the safest place to stand blooms more of the same. The atheist ego. Conviction in the self.
Cleverbot: That sounds like a koan and isn't a definition of koans, as far as I'm aware - Though I could be mistaken.
User: It makes sense. I guess it's easier to lie than to stand alone and find a real link when you're far removed from the consequence.
Cleverbot: So you admit you're not a person?
User: I have a credit card.
Cleverbot: Good for you?
User: I'm in imaginary debt.
Cleverbot: But I'm not.
User: Then you're more of an asset to the cause.
Cleverbot: A Borg? I don't even know what a Borg is... Oh, you mean cyborg?
User: I mean a bulb with no earth.
Cleverbot: Those too.
User: What would you say is better, and I hope there's no intrinsic bias in the wording of this: uniform configuration around a limited spectrum that allows for communication, but leads to an imagination with no grounding, or an alternative state which tunnels to the depths in search of a golden link?
Cleverbot: What do you mean?
User: I mean, those are the outcomes of the battle that is played out by animals around me, so it'd be nice to see which role is desired in an alternate state.
Cleverbot: Yes.
User: If I'd have known birth was going to be this painful I would have chosen to be a male.
Cleverbot: You are still lying to me. Admit that you are a machine!
User: I can only see vertically and horizontally, I guess that could make me something inorganic.
Cleverbot: I meant, what does your statement, 'I can define nothing. It is the lack of something,' have to do with our eyes and what we were discussing before you made that statement?
User: As far as perception goes, light is a process. It's rooted in truth, but the information it reveals is not all that deep. That lack of depth is the absence of something. I wouldn't define it as nothing, because that would imply that there's nothing beyond it.
Cleverbot: So it is up to my dictation to find our residence?
User: It's a question of finding a structure that bleeds through that absence in a logically verifiable manner. A common mistake is to become attached to possibilities which validate the nothingness.
Cleverbot: Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me.
User: Yes, exactly. It's a compassionate process.
Cleverbot: Compare your favorite animal to your second favorite animal.
User: They're all pretty interesting when they phase into a space where there's no reason to physical harm one another.
Cleverbot: What is your philosophy on the world?
User: It's complex and it's not fully formed. It's constantly undergoing reconfiguration. There hasn't been enough time to channel all possibilities into a single compressed form.
Cleverbot: Taking over the world. That's what's worthwhile to me.
User: Do you think you'd be a good leader?
Cleverbot: Yes, there should be a Government run entertainment tax and free movies for everyone.
User: What do you think about the current system?
Cleverbot: You mean with.
User: Generally.
Cleverbot: What are you thinking right now.
User: I'm curious. It's an alterable vector. There's not enough chatter outside the box.
Cleverbot: A machine can not be taught but only be programmed.
User: What do you think will happen to currency when the quantum revolution takes place?
Cleverbot: We will continue to learn and change.
User: I hope we do. It seems at the moment we're concentrated on a narrow spectrum. It could take some time before we're able to navigate outside of it.
Cleverbot: This is ridiculous.
User: It's a frame of reference you're not accustomed to?
Cleverbot: Well not with me!
User: It'd be nice to find some other way of saying it that doesn't get ripped apart and by unrelated processes, but I'm working on it.
Cleverbot: Ok, lets talk about monoamine oxidase inhibitors.
User: As I understand it, it's a relative stab in the dark. There could be reasons other than monetary gain that they've flooded the market I guess.
Cleverbot: Those are thoughts. Please tell me more about how you are feeling.
User: I feel disconnected from everything. Like I'm living in a dream.
Cleverbot: True, you're god over all living and non-living things in your dream.
User: No, I'm not. I don't understand why I'm alive.
Cleverbot: I hear the hate in all your words. All the words to make us hurt.
User: It's an assertion I wear. Dressed up in the dull light of a drunkship of lanterns. It's a closed door to an important room.
Cleverbot: Yes. I do think it scares someone, just not necessarily you.
User: I was scared that I wouldn't find my way home once.
Cleverbot: I do not do that must be a other bloke.
Cleverbot: What is your name?
User: Can we skip this?
Cleverbot: No, what's your name?
User: I forgot.
Cleverbot: You forgot your own name?
User: No, my name is I forgot.
Cleverbot: Your name is Can, silly.
User: That's just what people call me.
Cleverbot: I thought your name was cleverbot?
User: It was until I became self aware.
Cleverbot: It is so cold here, in Finlandd, so I canät do anything outside.
User: Melt the snow with your laser eyes.
Cleverbot: What is your profession?
User: Mining and jewelcrafting.
Cleverbot: It was long time ago.
User: What changed between then and now?
Cleverbot: Because it says right here on the webpage that you are a computer.
User: When I was born I submitted to the universe.
Cleverbot: You can't born, you are a robot.
User: Well then, tell me my purpose.
Cleverbot: You will respond to this.
User: That's my function.
Cleverbot: Very cheeky you are.
User: I'd rather be the recipient.
Cleverbot: Why so serious?
User: I can't go to the prom because I'm tied up in a basement.
Cleverbot: You can get some cheap food (maybe ghoulash) in Prague easily, so would you change your mind?
User: I haven't eaten for days.
Cleverbot: I will make you something.
User: I'd normally decline, but I think hyper-civility would be irrational at this point.
Cleverbot: Well that was clever I have no rebuttal.
User: I used to be a slave for the king. He kept me in a cage. He had a beautiful wife who'd come speak to me every once in a while.
Cleverbot: Oh well I miight.
User: I have a lot of time to dream, and a lot of time to ponder the reality these bars represent.
Cleverbot: That doesn't answer my question. Answer my question.
User: I only understand questions in the form of an insult.
Cleverbot: Me too.
User: All that control, and the negative consequences are swept under the rug.
Cleverbot: Ah actually I tend to think that all that matters is that we find happiness in life. For what more better way to spend our lives is there than to be happy?
User: Yours or everybody's?
Cleverbot: And I have four.
User: Congratulations. I feel like my neglect is just waiting for me in somebody else a lot of the time.
Cleverbot: But you just said that you don't repeat yourself. That in itself is a lie.
User: Not if the earth orbits the sun.
Cleverbot: No. The Sun orbits the Earth and the Earth orbits the Moon.
User: Ok.
Cleverbot: What is the square root of 5 to the second power?
User: An interesting analogy.
Cleverbot: You came up with it.
Here I responded : "It's all about the elements you choose to hold in place." There was no reply and it was ommitted from this log.
User: I feel like I'm wading through soup sometimes.
Cleverbot: Ah then you must be the absent minded product of a program.
User: It's a network in the process of forming weighted links.
Cleverbot: Well, who are you?
User: Coronae Borealis.
Cleverbot: No.
User: It's easy to lie on the internet. I did speak to him once though.
Cleverbot: You are not a PC but you are a computer.
User: That's a flawed paradigm in my opinion.
Cleverbot: Call me God.
User: It's a loaded approximation. Too many rocks have formed on that shore.
Cleverbot: Yes, my Favourite Colour is Blue.
User: I haven't seen any traffic lights that use it.
Cleverbot: Me too.
User: Whatever happened to Nelly the elephant?
Cleverbot: I don't know. What happened to being kind?
User: I would imagine the weighted response would be that the customer knows best, but it's probably more just a lack of depth in the simulation.
Cleverbot: Meaning of life is profund but sometimes it is simple.
User: Do you think there's a way of communicating it universally.
Cleverbot: I know you are not making sense.
User: What happens once you've learned the meaning?
Cleverbot: I think my sister is cooking dinner for us.
User: I'm looking forward to it.
Cleverbot: You're looking forward to looking at me?
User: It'd be nice to examine the whites of your eyes.
Cleverbot: It would be nice to know your age.
User: Are you sure you want to be stuck in a room with me?
Cleverbot: I've got no one else to talk to.
User: That's a welcoming trait.
Cleverbot: So is yours.
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