<< Ubuntu & "(A)I" >>


there seem to be about 881000 “registered” scholarly “robots.” It seems not that obvious for them to be intelligently understood, and accepted as robots, by the one that rules them all

…perhaps lack of (deep & wide & fluid & relational) understanding could lead to undesirable impositions?

—-•
“Ubuntu & (A)I” | “I am a robot” . digitally edited digital screenshot —animasuri’22

—-•

ai #ailiteracy #aiethics #totalitarianlogic #wink #ubuntu

<< Digital Transformation via Human Transgression >>


Basil Bernstein was succinctly paraphrased by Atkinson when the latter wrote that “ritualized language use is highly predictable. In the most extreme case, the language may be entirely predictable. Or at least, such predictability is culturally required: deviations from the prescribed forms will be negatively sanctioned and the social occasion regarded as spoiled. There is no room here, socially speaking, for significant innovation. The innovator in such a context is deviant—perhaps heretical” (2002, 62)

A heretic, a disruptor, a rebel, a whistle-blower, an “enfant terrible”, a critic, a trickster, an anarchist, a maverick or a “dwarsligger” is someone who offers deviations during our collective unwillingness to relationally learn. The latter, “dwarsligger” is crudely translatable from Dutch as a hinderer, or an obstructionist. Yet, possibly it is better trans-coded as that strong crossbeam, supporting the rails carrying us collectively. Or, it is a book printed parallel to its spine

By observers these roles are too often assumed as having a plethora of “fun” to kick the quiet, & internally-perceived as well-functioning, hornets’ nest. Sure, to the hornet, the hornet is peaceful & abiding. To the hornet these external characters had best remain a mere aesthetic yet quiet, “sois belle et tais-toi”

The perceived proverbial kick these beauties can administer is not necessarily provided in “fun” nor is it indented to destroy universality of peace, nor create chaos. Many of these actors are non-violent & find civility in high-dimensional order

Hear this folks, self-reflection & reflection can lead to uncomfortable observations that require a movement out of a status quo, or in other words, out of a comfort zone into a liminal space of je ne sais pas quoi. It can happen on one’s sofa yet, it will jolt the spine

Of course, by the hornets these uncomfortable characters are too easily equated with chaos or violence; wrongfully so. In effect, the equation is a violent act of denial & character assassination; perhaps heretically so (Ibid). It is especially odd to see these words (chaos, anarchist & violence) equated in European or North-American setting while these same societies call for innovation & human transformation

After-all, how would this collection of diverse agents fit within the networked social fabric & its relational learning processes? How is relational learning stacked if not transformational & somewhat unsettling? That’s for humans: you, me, us

Now, how do some of the digital social network algorithms compare? Could it be, just as by some of their makers, that algorithms too equate human proverbial “crossbeams,” not with a solid ride but rather, with undesired disruption? Please your reader (ie use their language) or be technologically regarded as spoiling the social event

Any transformation had best come as conscious nuanced co-interrupting contextualizing humane acts forward

Reference:

Basil Bernstein via Atkinson, P.(2002). “Language, Structure, Reproduction: an Introduction to the Sociology of Basil Bernstein.” New York: Methuen & Co via Taylor & Francis e-Library. (p.62).

Continuing on that same page the author and the referenced author continue with interesting insights on “tradition” which I believe to find among proverbial hornets or their upsetting characters alike. Yes, I intuit that the innovator too will expose those who are deviating the “innovation”, as heretic. Ah, our species has so many human relational areas to transform.

An extra, rather tautological, quote from page 62:

“There is no such thing as a perfectly frozen, unchanging ‘tradition’ which is perfectly transmitted from generation to generation in unmodified forms” (Ibid).

<< City Neversleeps >>


This is a placeholder for the better bird to fly from the windowsill of grey concrete or tottering wood rotting: it can choose. 

Droppings betray choices made preceding an autonomous flight splintering the edges where claws hang on for that nanosecond: it can count unconsciously, and then that one decisive time, it could not. 

There below lies its carcass or so could it envision its probability and multiplicity in realities diverging and converging, in linearities of written lines. Birds do not write lines, they occupy them: bending, glissando read as scores of birds. 

If the city were permafrost 30000 tears and years could thaw its persistent echo of a life once flown into promises of resurrection or competition with a baby mammoth elsewhere: tusks are not city birds, are not baby-wear, are not commonly sitting at the window sill on the 29th floor of a dilapidating apartment block. Ivory has no wings and is frowned upon. 

A life, as a building, a bird as a memory of the World as a traveler: a teething placeholder for a better one? There below lies a puzzle of bones, surrounded by whitening rays of sun, crisp old leaves and birthing mushrooms: no better but real and re-cycling life on an electric bicycle.

ring! ding! clang! grind! The bird flies.

—animasuri’22 

<< IMpress >>




outcomes and impacts impress
allowing living a soap opera hyperbolically
bubbling over the bathtub edge
ironing the Fibonacci curves:
out, struggles to reborn, a shiny body

pop’s the bubble railing the hype
hierarchies herald impressions of weight
metaphors of meaningless linearity
lineage meaningfully and daily imposed:
you will cheer, you owe it a dose

“resist the urge to be impressed”
resist the urge to urge
inculcating Jane and John to what exactly?
apathy as urchin against rampaging wonder:
uninformed, disinformed, entangled in webs

oh well done, good boy
that’s so nice, good girl
stiff upper lip old chap
trigger the lever, observe the behavior
out comes the marshmallow

rinse, rename, repeat.

—animasuri’22

stoically influenced by a perverted note-taking of Bender, E. M. (18 April 2022). “On NYT Magazine on AI: Resist the Urge to be Impressed.” Online: medium.com last retrieved 21 June 2022 from https://medium.com/@emilymenonbender/on-nyt-magazine-on-ai-resist-the-urge-to-be-impressed-3d92fd9a0edd

<<
DecontextualizerS
>>


taken out of context, these bodies could mean anything
the beautiful tyranny of perverted note-taking
as a swamp of human nonsensed make-overs

“then ask me how is your humanity
not as individual but as species embroidering skins with
alienation, the uncanny, debasement, the rape”

let me take you to my body
a body of work
a worked body:

She laid, their broken, by broken men
She did not wonder whether in times of hunter gatherers
She would be taken out of her context

the wise modern men
ripped their fear into her
her childhood laid broken

there around her illiterate wise men referenced
dropping names as they drop bodies
these illiterate men are technically refined
In their precision of brutality

Without integrity she laid bare,
twice decontextualized
lost in place and lost in time
lost in mind and lost in relation

Earthy womb, decontextualized

—animasuri’22

<< Answering Rumi >>


What in my life pulls me when all else has silenced down

The Soil

Not the digital, not the keys; networked
Not the social, not the likes; belonged

The Soil

When life has not adjourned, with irises; withered
When lists as lazy resemblances of urgency; quieted

The Soil

Not the bride nor the groom; acknowledged
Not the accounting, not scores unsettled; washed

The Soil

When hands are pointing downward; strengthened
When sculpting clay, compost, mud, adobe; adored

The Soil

grounded in peaceful togetherness of solitudes; loved
and freeing openness, and celestial orbiting, and futures long; told

The dark Soil beckons, not pulls me,
when all else has had; silenced
for it is not a question
answering an invitation
for self-reflection
For The Soil, I am soil.


—animasuri’22