Category Archives: text | wondering

<< Copy Paste Pastors >>

“Personifying my dustbin
I put large googly eyes on the lid
the size of coasters for a teapot,
with googly eyes,”
stated James proudly

“now that Mickey is public
I can totemize ‘im and
worship his bubbly effigy
without reprimand and Goofy’s eyes”

“on the dashboard of Desire,
my streetless car, with googly, yes, eyes.
We are the holy trinity
the manna, the sustenance, the rye”

“I belong to this machinery now
of prefab authenticity and eyes on the ball
drab togetherness, personalized efficiency
without growing pains of eccentricity”

James lauded
regurgitation as celebration
of anthropocentric application
of iteration, recursion without much
effort to skip to the upcoming version

in rows of mass drumbeats
matching outfits and synchronized battle cries
Sierpiński and Mandlbrot,
Droste: poor me a coco; together now!
Snowflake and Tree-branch, pour

names of his friends imagined
and brutal truths ripped
from first date theater tickets
on a no-nonsense shoulder:
geradeaus ist einfach immer geradeaus

down the gentle bird-green path green
adorned with children’s rhymes
and meticulously machined
sandpapered laughs and fingertip epistēmē

James is content now,
James is whole.

                     —animasuri’24

<< World Model >>

Jacobus was looking for a friend.
Someone who could understand.
Someone, or anything really,
who would share their own experience
Someone Jacobus could relate to.

For years now Jacobus has been living.
Living with hiccups.
It’s interruptive
and jolting joy.
It is a serious matter.

At times Jacobus’ fist
is planted onto the table’s surface.
Cracks occurred,
and that while having a background in engineering
as well as having a degree in medicine:

with a specific focus
on computer science
and then these latest learning technologies
of machines,
anthropomorphically deep

—deeper then the mucosal surfaces of Jacobus’ larynx, glottis and all
—with a specialization in diaphragm irritations and spasms.
with a confidence of authority and funds on call
with pitched, intense unquestioned interest and hypes and
with thrall

Incisively, Jacobus set out to invent a model
one that could generate output
interrupted by hiccups.
Incessantly, incessantly, multimodally: hiccups;
while hurling all water from the soil.

“Drink a cup of water,” said Jacobus,
“take it in.” Knowing full well that didn’t work
for him to date, not at all.
None of that brought him any closer
to that one, idealized breath of peace.

—animasuri’24

—-•
a trigger

Fuchs, T. (2024). Understanding Sophia? On human interaction with artificial agents. IN: Phenom Cogn Sci 23, 21–42 (2024). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11097-022-09848-0

Howick, J., Morley, J., Floridi, L. (2021). An Empathy Imitation Game: Empathy Turing Test for Care- and Chat-Bots. IN: Minds and Machines 31 (3): 457–61. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11023-021-09555-w.

McKeown, G. (2015). Turing’s menagerie: Talking lions, virtual bats, electric sheep and analogical peacocks: Common ground and common interest are necessary components of engagement. IN: International Conference on Affective Computing and Intelligent Interaction (ACII), Xi’an, China, 2015, pp. 950-955, doi: 10.1109/ACII.2015.7344689.

Selinger, E., Dreyfus, H., & Collins, H. (2007). Interactional expertise and embodiment. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part A. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.shpsa.2007.09.008

<< The Healing Voice >>

The voice of conscience
it modulates at supersonic frequency
for Fluffy, a Dobermann, to hear

snipping her ears ‘n’ tail clipping her nails,
trimming her fur

The voice of the people
it escalates at fringes to scalability
for Establishment, a Status quo, to pedigree

piling human utterances into machinery
spitting out lookalikes, generically for all to see

The voice of reason
it observes in method and model
for Reality, an Ontology, to bark or be

confusing sciences for quick buck application
caring for pillage, and artistry for sophistry

The voice of sewage
it gushes at high pressured forces
for daring delegation, ‘n’ trust, wagging away

segregating minds onto shriveling islands sneaking squinting gazes for white broidered curtains to hide in front

onto your reflectively overheating asphalt ocean
I wave: come and join me
for a simple, silently-slow slurped cup of tea

                           —animasuri’24

<< Fear of Missing Out >>

Why if it is in the little themes
as little as a granule
fitting between two toes
needle-like discomfort socked in a shoe,
in a finance meeting

that a self-judging reusable rocket
promised to Mars inspires thought

Why is it of all the little themes if
minutia as a pattern
as a gnome as a reconnaissance
in the marvel of the marble
on the bathroom floor, remind one

that DNA editing toward Dodos
and Mammoths inspires symptoms

Why, in the little themes overlooking the Thames
few lines organized together
to be misunderstood as a poem
in the shadow of world literatures
and mass floods opinionated

that geo-engineering scheme
to coolness inspires transpiration

Why it is in the abundance of little themes of, if it were
a gentle crossing of eyes unfitting
the length of lived relations
love is still spoken
confidently unheard

that social robots trigger conversation
while we mumble enacting meaningless barbarisms

Why if of beings tiny grand
if undefined if muddled,
of so-ever this and that
if filled with why
yet more with digital chat

that with persistence and grit under one’s mindful feet
disturbed, inspires a procrastinating walk

Why if it is themed small,
circling a celestial bending of water
still demanding the nonchalance
and the surreal
of a genuine smile

that I yearn and act beyond this end
unheeding what inspires cause:

that is why: there is no pause.

                        —animasuri’24

<< Model Air of Fallibility >>

“Is it inclusive enough?”
respecting “emotional expression”

expression as colors by numbers 4 or 8:

one is death in Chinese
the other prospers

a mathematician’s irritate:

platonic perplexing paper planes
and euclidian scaping ordinary worms

squirming here to one line of thought:

“and why is intelligence
the artificial layer

we are promoting:”

is then objectivity if
all-inclusive in nature

there, STEM fetish that:

we flirt-fear intelligence
for centuries colonially in making it

the intentional, yet now:

colorfully, arr-hythmically
measurably absurd.

                —animasuri’24



—-•
trigger

Cave, S. (2020). The Problem with Intelligence: Its Value-Laden History and the Future of AI. IN: A. Markham, J. Powles, T. Walsh, A.L. Washington (Eds.). (2020). Proceedings of the AAAI/ACM Conference on AI, Ethics, and Society (AIES ’20) (pp. 29–35). Association for Computing Machinery. https://doi.org/10.1145/3375627.3375813

Mouta, A., Pinto-Llorente, A. M., & Torrecilla-Sánchez, E. M. (2023). Uncovering Blind Spots in Education Ethics: Insights from a Systematic Literature Review on Artificial Intelligence in Education. IN: International Journal of Artificial Intelligence in Education. https://doi.org/10.1007/s40593-023-00384-9

<< syncopated >>

The nuances of the silences
between the chords is a soundscape

One day I heard my child
there where the Major 7th

hinged onto the anticipation of laughter
eleven summered semitones young

its vapidity lost to the inversion
when he fell, vapor on the minor second step

onto the denouement upward stairing house
steps without guardrail, up

entrances, doors with mute mailboxes
and redbrick bandages calling to fall

MMMMMMM now now,
it’s over now.

and moderate tempo returned
at the downbeat sound of brushing it off

                —animasuri’24

<< Postnocturnism >>

Have you ever heard an E flat
hammering a Steinbeck string
Pearl-white keyed on Mice and Men

knowing automated correction
took away the concert piano
from the pianist who passed away

replacing it for a favorite piece of
printing press output and childhood
memory in an age of mechanical reproduction

allow me to hear that man play with
breaths counting down to this day
today when condolences are resounding

across the score written by a name of fame
chops chopping Chopin counterpoint
reasoning largesse demanding all space

and yet recorded history
is a rhythmic left hand of
human prehistoric colored rockface

stone Bach, Steinbach, Steinway
hidden from a conscious Sun
just a stone throw away

in the painting across, behind blue trees
with protruding shadows by
an unknown and loved French painter

with her multitudes of brains
would an octopus play blank ink
preludes differently on sharps ‘n’ flats

my art application lived
a controversial collective across
a note-taking of love

                      —animasuri’24

—-•
trigger

Allen, D. (2024, March 23). Maurizio Pollini, Celebrated Pianist Who Defined Modernism, Dies at 82. His recordings of Beethoven and Chopin were hailed as classics, but his technical ability sometimes invited controversy. Online: The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/23/arts/music/maurizio-pollini-dead.html

<< democratic feedback loops>>

within belief lies a lie
a little kernel to belie if I must

irritating the fold
I occupy

I layer it with mattresses
cultured layers to soften the blow

to quiet the poking seed
to misdirect calls into the reed

I machine tentacles and automatons
as extensions of cognition

confusing extrovert expansion, loud big
as if altruistic good dowry to my mind

in what I belief
I hold lie

as dear, as index
as core tékhnē to my blinds:

point at it
in disbelief

caring and open
to re-receive

                             —animasuri’24

<< Bionic Plug-in Bee >>

Here we lay you
spread before you
circularly mimicking you
on IoT streets for edged
Self-driven Desire

your consent, your lament
your augmentation, your inclination
and we feast, oh how we feast
on telling ourselves we know you
by the data epithelia shed

from the grease
from your yeasting gist
It’s an extra spectacle folks
line right up, spread your wings
read all digits about it

out of the crunchy gates
of the grinder
and the scraping strides
from the strigilis off of the crispy
biome’s six-legged branches of life

through those mirrors
of cracked skin
and the data spilling from it
we have yet to be fooled
to be off our bionic drip

in and to the bumblebee’s kingdom
of young grass
and orange honeysuckle
following the drops of dew
of an early morning drizzle

         —animasuri’24

<< Data Overdoes >>

if Jessica finds more humanity
in surreal associations, in wordplay
rhythmic layers and shaped smells
of synesthesia unlocked

then in the “serious” form
of social banter and event analysis
geopolitical tension and debasements
marketing vices, bros, viragos and vitriol

more echoes of humane dialog
in automated stringing
of said words, round-up median insights
transmediated identities and multimodalities

then dismissed-expertise
single bubble echo chatter
of the in-crowds, the established,
the certified, the reported and critiqued

more comfort in posting, scrolling
swiping, tagging, liking, hosting
filming, capturing, faking,
digi-roasting, phishing, ghosting,

then in the tie ‘n’ white shirts
and meticulous three piece
chess board high brows Glenfiddich
and transnational cachet wines

if more then and only then —as if—
does she live in a rich world
if only Jessica could share
the sunset tinkle on her left arm’s skin
from her treehouse lair,

silently sounding
playful smile lounging
at the Excastra Albopilosa
fluffy bird-like dropping

all waves
all masked
passing by

               —animasuri’24 

—-•