Friday 1 March 2024

the intel we know

 

from chicken to egg & back again


Intel - whether intelligent or not - is only one aspect of life: sure, it's crucial to our architecture & an example of what survival takes; like a defence membrane or the digestive tract. And even intelligent intel can be synthesized. Moog wasn't half a clever bastard, right? But it’s only logic, not magic. Life percolates into something more dynamic & ephemeral than boring owl data collection, storage & processing. The wizard ingredient, separating the quick from the dead, fact from fiction, is consciousness - or lack of it. Consciousness: your one-way ticket to the cosmos & pass for oblivion’s gate. Now, you synthesize true consciousness, Herr Doktor Musk, that would be something.

Maybe one day, more progressive forms than ours will exist without combustion engines. God knows what they’ll sport – half-rods of plutonium stuck up their fusion chambers, or solar skin-jobs to recharge batteries, frisking about in the daylight hours then cogitating all night. But whatever & however smart the propulsion system, without consciousness - no matter the size or beauty of them – without true consciousness, they’ll make less sense than a shower of amoebas clubbing it in the primeval soup kitchen.

Yep, intelligence – in the common sense - is a great collection or stored information. Intelligent intel can even select what’s worth garnering & what ain’t worth the candle. In most circumstances, decision making’s only a matter of taking the most logical path. Foresight, then, comes into play. And then again, it’s just a question of processing information. You can’t base consciousness purely on reason.

Take chickens, which anyone who’s kept will tell you are some of the dumbest creatures that ever lived. They evolved in the backwoods of a large island on the edge of the Indian Ocean, thriving without a significant predator, till humanity showed. After which - apart from serving us with food - there was no reason for their continued existence. Yet somehow the jungle they grew up in so completely matches ours, they would be around for as long as eggs is eggs. And never mind trying to puzzle out which came first, chickens keep springing back; no matter how harsh the environment we, in our stupid, selfish cruelty, devise for them. Or the efforts of the vegan police to abolish their existence. The birds go on fitting in, that’s all. We’ll probably take them to Mars & beyond, eventually introducing Andromedans to the magic of the egg.

For some creatures, consciousness is there from Day One. Newborn ruminants, for inst, get to their feet & within the hour are ready to move off with the herd. That’s what it takes to make it as a lamb or a foal. And knowing who Mum is, of course. Thinking outside the brain, parents & young stick together for months or years in an emotional bond.

Imagine a couple of bright robotic sparks attempting to scale the Matterhorn. When the going gets tough, & sheer physical power no longer works - when they’re running low on options for reaching the summit, logic tells them to call the whole thing off & go back down. Or, at a pinch, one might cannibalize the other. Which? Depends how they’re programmed. But those crazy lifeforms – us in this case – take strength from each other’s company. We rally round & somehow find a way to climb up. Or fall in the attempt. Is buddiness just another thing for the so-called intelligent robots to learn? Who we gonna trust on that?

Or take kittens. They won’t open their eyes for a week, during which their hungry owl Dad, or a jealous female with young of her own to feed, would simply gobble them up. No conscience, see. Consciousness takes many creatures no time to develop, unlike humans. It’s years with us. In fact, we can say revelations occur right up till the end - though the final years may see a dimming of awareness that mirrors the growing curve. If the true end is so-called brain death, that locates consciousness somewhere behind the eyes, ears or whichever organs of perception haven’t caved. The corpse, meanwhile, still perfectly capable of life in all other respects, is only rendered non-viable when consciousness has left the building. Call it the spark of life, if you will. Sleep tight.

And is there an afterlife? Of course not. There’s just the pool of human consciousness to which you contribute, be you a socially minded genius, a bored bore, or a demented axe murderer. And to which the spark may return, if you want to think of it like that. The light goes out, but its image may linger on for a greater or a lesser time. To some extent, the Julius Caesars & Cleo Ptolemys of this life remain with us. Though their perceptions ceased long ago, what we keep alive of them is a shared vision of beauty or justice, courage, outrage or defiance, whatever turns us on (or switches us off).

Consciousness springs - maybe subconsciously - from one generation to the next, across the centuries, even from one myth to another, like from Dido & Aeneas to Anthony & Cleopatra. Here we readmit the humble chicken back to the fold. Plain dumb ain’t all it seems.  

Nobody's Bot!


Thursday 1 February 2024

not a verse to many

 


well well well

 

they were treated badly* what

d’you expect from human kind

turn the other cheek no fear

kissing their arse

 

promised landscape take your pick

Armageddon’s puckered lips

strut the catwalk end the world

scapegoat or bust

 

read The Jewish War again

only this time add The Bomb

Dr Strangelove hand in glove

strangling himself

 

time will tell predictions please

on a postcard winner gets

courtesy of Musk a one

way trip to Mars

 

*by-the-bye for badly read

hell on Earth survivors vowed

not to let the empire strike

back on their word

 

 

eh aye rant

 

when the best we’ll ever manage or achieve

can be duplicated then improved by bots

what’s the point of trying shouldn’t people just

give up & sit back

 

shoot the breeze enjoy the view cos what’s the point

been a while since chess for instance ceased to be

dangerous & soon enough a racing car

will drive you to work

 

where the human aspect making money or

getting on shall disappear replaced by what

petty rivalries we’ll all be middle folk

man watched by a clock

 

going into care before our time we sip

lullabies composed in Aeolian mode

mood adjustments made according to the Moon

solar wind or spots

 

yep the music of the spheres is all we’ll hear

drowning out the guns & bombs of mutineers

even those controlled by exoskeletal

forces out of Mars

 

 

iso tropes

 

there’s an eider down

shotgun pellets blood

stains across the bed

last of the few

 

people went to town

traipsing village mud

paved with gold they said

turn of the screw

 

former farmer Brown

navigates the flood

on an upturned shed

animal glue

 

soldier sailor clown

rich man poor man judge

get it in the head

elephants flew

 

well you gotta frown

summat had to budge

giz a crust of bread

shock of the new

 

 

impertinence

 

bodies grow

smarter with

heads

planets get

stuffed without

moons

galaxies

orbit black

holes

universe

says define

goals

verse begins

splutters then

folds

 

 

frog warning

 

safe to stay at home & wait

where the monsters daren’t

go afraid of prowling kids

 

as you know the worst

danger faced by outside foes

trust the family

 

Emily & Uncle Joe

cut a catflap some

slack & give a dog a home

 

long as hump-back toads

don’t get in so mind the cracks

under which they’ll slide

 

reeking of their foreign ways

curse the Normans hand

back the Channel Îles for snide

 

 

not too great now

 

us & them the sworn

enemies of time’s

immemorial

biblical tropes

 

quote unquote the words

coined from melted down

altar plates they’re past

settlement day

 

eager for revenge

both opponents call

in Jehova’s names

hostage to what

 

fear or fortune not

love & peace but zoom

sanctimonious

meaningless guff

 

talking children maimed

babies snuffed & old

folk distraught at what

life was about

 

 

Dr Davos I presume

 

retrograde

conference

handouts

from

twenty-first

century

blood feuds

to

stay-at-home

refugee

food banks

in

climate change

turnaround

Bond films

with

cowboy Jane

hostage swop

shootouts

 

 

a verse to poetry

 

what’s the point of no return

one-way streets or cul-de-sacs

spread a map across the floor

see where it’s at

 

as you know the grid is down

St Domingo Rd & flood

waters won’t recede until

Christ knows the thing

 

is don’t put your act of faith

where the other fella’s been

lamppost wine for instance smells

great to a dog

 

keep your powder dry & wait

till the bogeyperson’s bogged

off or on their morning break

Jekel & Hyde

 

& another thing yer man

wrote a long ekphrastic pome

while they were curating stick

that up your nose


No Fear!

Sunday 31 December 2023

chuck this out

 


Cheshire cheese riots

 

they sneezed when lobsters set off to conquer a waning Moon but the Sea of Tranquility would never be the same after the Second Career Battle hoards of vegan life forms settled on the mud and commenced interbreeding operations whereupon a coalition of Jerichans in jerrycans launched their long campaign to regain historic oil drilling rights lost during Bruckner’s seventh truck horn concerto but & let’s have no iffy hands on the boodle war was declared so everyone went home to Wellington boots & shake their owl sou’westers out

 

 

Britain’s Got Gravity

 

wasn’t Newton half a saint

when the apple hit his pate

first he cried Eureka then

busted a gut

 

meanwhile those that fail to dig

Britain’s big discovery

Ivan & his pals can bog

off to the back

 

if the Yanks agree we’ll sell

shares so willing friends can take

part in planting guaranteed

hobnails on ground

 

jumping jellyfish a speech

act to burst our bloating pride

lead balloons won’t save us now

word has come down

 

Britain’s finest hourglass

cracked in umpteen places please

help yourselves to souvenirs

changing the lease

 

 

Jericho jive

 

here’s wha’happen when you shake somebody’s land

uncontrollable forces slide into play

better kill their men of fighting age or pay

hit squads till the end

 

slavery has always been an option but

carefully invest the profits or you’ll see

smart machines that replicate their work & cut

productivity

 

grounds for pigrimmage should bring in sacks of dough

theme park keepers money changers souvenir

merchants all agree the plot is sacred though

sink holes follow tears

 

title deeds tattooed on human skin it’s blood

archaeologists agree to disagree

would that rival engineers & farmers could

break bread over tea

 

Their permission not withstanding bloke upstairs

has to get the final word in it’s goodbye

cruel world & crossing fingers say your prayers

last will’s on a die

 

 

ctrl+alt+del

 

Farmer Brown forgot

where to plant his crops

Father White took up

worshipping hops

 

Schubert’s comic pop

songs left Schumann star

stuck on Waterloo

Abba’s first hit

 

Britain’s army lost

World Wars One & Two

Hitler won the peace

prize for his art

 

Trump retired to play

chess in Mexico

Lennon staged a come

back from the grave

 

hang on there that’s not

quite impossible

rating everything

else ’bout the same

 

 

ranting on my sick-bed

 

anti-indiscriminate

Uncle give your crown a break

provocation victim-blame

all the above

 

now the dogs are off their leads

warfare’s nicely out of hand

kills the very ones it tells

fibbles to save

 

friendly fire undertakes

people at each other’s throats

humans squabbling over hedge

rows & revenge

 

justice pull the other one

concentration campfire blues

Arabs Jews collaterals

inmates & guards

 

screw the lot of youse that don’t

care about the kiddies old

folk & those who’d compromise

talking a fence

 

 

à la recherche d’un objet volé

 

clever bombs

put this child’s

severed hand

back

nothing less

can redress

all her dreams

ye

science gods

make her whole

if you want

peace

don’t be cruel

universe

bend the rules

or

scuttle off

where you came

from you smart

bums

 

 

one state solution

 

blaming victims shaming cats

the impossible is best

done as though you had to put

death to the test

 

course the rest’s a matter of

facing down inherent guilt

pogroms happen no one coughs

blood when it’s spilt

 

medicine is practiced by

engineers while doctors dole

out the Zyklon-B & why

not on the whole

 

land is fertilised like this

stained with pots of human sap

not with stolen promises

less of the crap

 

smoke these rodents from the ground

flush em out & crush their heads

flat before they make a sound

guilty is dead

 

 

after words

 

following the last

war our world economy

never quite returned

 

something’s missing said

Baron Stickemup & Lord

Killingspree replied

 

blame the Internet

people speaking out of turn

time the plug was pulled

 

but The King formerly known as Prince had bogged

off to Bogmouth or some place

out of countenance

 

so the mongers had

nothing nuch to do besldes

welching on their debts

 

 

Cracked Pot Theory

 

humanitarian war

crimes committed after death

or before the child is born

pausing for breath

 

every sin forgiven if

yep there’s gonna be a catch

Simon says it makes no diff

not on your watch

 

in or out of time across

several universes while

profits turn a healthy loss

unreconciled

 

Nelson coins it seeing no

blips on the oscilloscope

let the warts of dogfare go

sleep off the rope

 

since you gotta live & die

might as well be for a cause

just because or who cares why

go with the pause


not out!

Friday 1 December 2023

BOG OFF TO BOGNOR!


 lavatory wall prosaic

 

crazy how the few are plotting to

own the whole caboodle wars & all

while the rest are tryna save & feed

kinfolks or friends

 

who’d’ve thought it worthy that some

greedy rotten snides ensconced themselves

at the top with such impunity

summat’s not right

 

what we need’s a superhero who’ll

pull the chain that ends their smarmy rule

flush them all away & guarantee

freedom & peace

 

Jeez I’d give my yellow submarine

album cover signed by Lennon worth

thousands everyone’s got something let’s

set up a fund

 

now we know them Elgin Dust & Co

Sputin Tramps on Knotten Yahoo Jo

Bideshistime & that Australian clan

straight down the pan

 

 

 

heaven

 

everyone who’s gone

gets their very own

solar set to play

God with alone

 

as an X-Machine

you may intervene

stop & watch as life

comes into being

 

forward it reverse

speeded up or slowed

down the games you’ll play

pinkwash & go

 

politicians get

supernovas black

holes for snides & top

hatters let’s see

 

total galaxies

Magellanic clouds

thousand million stars

clustered on toast

 

 

 

ineffable

 

stacks of useless thought

drones awaiting sale

undelivered hate

mail for the cause

 

static protest march

silent cries to be

left alone & screeched

whisperings see

 

nothing but it all

totals like a hand

bomb inside a ball

ends in the stand

 

expert shot it’s owned

by the vicious crowd

held in triumph but

fails to explode

 

still the point it scores

legendary home

run or six who cares

victory to Rome

 

 

 

European psycho

 

talking extreme

mediocrity

achingly relaxed

who gives a snit

 

let them do their worst

all they’ll get from me

bald indifference vexed

posing as nix

 

while inside I boil

over like a milk

pudding pops its lid

burning the pan

 

Dora’s box is spung

from within the rage

reaches far & wide

deep as I glide

 

sweetly on my way

smiling left to right

donning nods or winks

sugar & spice

 

 

 

superhero

 

I shall not forget

the outstanding debt

lest I should regret

these are my terms

 

case of tête-à-tête

ain’t there been enough

ugliness in town

dragging us down

 

quit the past but no

bygones linger on

like a guilty child

feelings get low

 

nothing can explain

time will only heal

not reverse the pain

something remains

 

give my brother back

youse that took him I

don’t believe you’ve met

Dr McDeath

 

 

 

warsore

 

entertainment pours

treasure blood & brains

into digital

artforms while wars

 

carry on who cares

Biggles Sorts It Out

like a turkey flight

bombed from the word

 

let the blighters go

Exodus with full

compensation no

cattle trucks though

 

give those folks their home

lands or do a swop

stop invading get

back where you once

 

longed to be beneath

Jehrico its walls

tumbling down or Kiyv

ghettos on ice

 

 

 

der abschied von Shekelgrubber

 

who can tell the bell

tolls for no one but

stuff they leave behind

 

what remains is changed

having lost its hand

maid appearance wanes

 

gone intestate that

lawyers may dispute

how to share the loot

 

gold & silver plate

hoards of Süleyman

coins & heaven knows

 

stories told is all

right you are but looked

well enough their ghost

 

 

 

abject infinity

 

just because a typewiter’s

packed with faux intelligence

doesn’t make these monkeys smart

but is it art

 

fair discrimination fell

at the first extremity

robots won the human race

then came some apes

 

playing pin-ball homo-sap

veered out of context rolled

down a groove & out the back

door of the place

 

seen our planet Mate they cried

out across the ace of space

btw at least they found

God on the ap

 

everywhere between the stars

Milky Wayne & Beetle Juice

singing life had better kicked

off on a Mars

 

 

*

 

abstract art

like its pop

Cubism

sucks

people up

savours then

spits them out

whole

Jonah style

 

are they changed

on the way

no

cat can say

some agree

sculpture gets

stuck

in a rut

smack yer butt

Henry Moore

cor

 

 

 

another ab

 

laws abjuring snoot

passed The Commons strive

openly to ban

most of themselves

 

while The Lords in mock

deference vote to take

power back the crown

shall be the King’s

 

that’s the way of things

called democracy

want of better words

stymied the cause

 

shoulda been a Tom

Bowler at the crease

played the Powerball

joker takes all

 

still you gotta hand

someone else the buck

let the Poles decide

owt for a duck

 

 

 

further abs

 

birds abscond take

off whenever scared

by mistakes or fake

gunfire they’ve learned

 

humans it’s absurd

blow each other up

pretty ugly huh

AI’s the word

 

absent activists

hang around the camps

fire at night then kiss

under the lamps

 

aliens abort

D-day every year

let their lazy bums

languish in port

 

abseiling proscribed

bungee jumping too

only kicks allowed

larks in the loo 

wot no John?