Posts Tagged ‘Technology’

Some minds only deal in binary,
Mechanical lizards piloting meat skeletons,
True or false,
These are the only options for these droids,
Logic taken to its cold conclusion,
Statistics taken a gospel,

Your heart,
Your feelings,
The colours that permeate your words,
These things produce hinderances,
Human factors are glitches,
They do not fit black and white,

To these walking computers,
There is the right solution and the unsound,
Only zeroes and ones,
There is no space for varied perceptions,
Your tears do not factor in,
To the single answer in their crosshairs.

I gaze skyward,
Drawn by some click of great decibel,
The sky above seems unearthly,
Almost to a virtual degree,
Whizzing my eyes left and right,
My periphery scratches the side of the monitor,

It feels unreal,
Like a blanket placed by some unsung creature,
The clouds skirt around dead pixels,
It seems fake,
Birds fly backwards,
Stuck in an aerial glitch,

It all looks digital,
Like the horizon has been hacked,
Or formed in some supernal studio,
What is this?
Where am I?
Is this life all some fault in the skybox?

When I hear its call,
That plastic herald fills me with dread,
It’s speaker a devious homunculus,
With a shrill call,

Ring ring,
Ring ring,

My veins become a red glacier within,
My teeth begin a tap dance,
What will the message be?
Which spectres voice will haunt me?

Ring ring,
Ring ring,

Does the apocalypse beckon?
My mind is a slideshow of worst case scenarios,
Will it be threats?
Perhaps evil news?

Ring ring,
Ring ring,

It trills again,
I must answer it,
I must slay this raucous demon,
My hands crusade commences upon the handset,

Wrong number,
The palpitations in my spine mock me.

Over the electric waves,
We are told there’s an app for everything,
Little neon geists in our palms,
Portable cyclopes,
Programs for every dilemma,
Apps for every sin,

Trading your organs for stocks online,
There’s an app for that,
Losing the social graces of a real human,
There’s an app for that,
Gambling your final savings,
There’s an app for that,
Deviously seeking an alternative to our spouse,
There’s an app for that,

There’s apps for all sorts,
Candy and arsenic,
Biscuits and viruses,
We are androids joined at the wrist,
To these rectangular demons,
These apps.

The world is naught but pixels,
A video game,
A snuff film,
All high-definition screens,
No soul,
Just pretty graphics,
With stupefying fidelity,
As long as you don’t gaze too close,

If you do,
Expect to see the flaws of the world,
Electrical faults,
Dull non-player characters,
Shallow characters following ill-realised scripts,
The dead pixels,
Static that we all swim amongst,
Until our monitors breathe their last.

Mankind has an addiction,
Technological advancement,
Fire to bronze to wheel,
Iron to steel to silicon,
A necessity turned to reliance,
Then morphed again to obsession,
Progress colliding with social media craving,
Lines of code cut by crafters hand,

We squat in plasterboard boxes,
Civilised little addicts,
Smoking carbon monoxide from factories,
Painting our eyes a glossy television white,
In turn plugging our lives into a synthetic spiders web,
USBs straight into our veins,
An electrical current,
Narcotics of information and memes,

Veins of black gold,
Wi-Fi heartbeat,
The world has become a machine,
With man feeding off of it,
Plugged into its plastic globe,
With carrier bag oceans and global warming skies,
A seeming paradise to most,
Not our problem others say,

But the thing about USB cables,
Sometimes they break.

I see you in virtual space,
Wearing your mask of a monitor,
A maginot line for your real life ego,
You think yourself a technomancer,
A hacker and revolutionary coder,
Yet in real life you’re merely a follower,

You’re not alone in this realm of 0’s and 1’s,
Adherent to a collective of trolls,
Shadow friends,
Allies purely in pixels,
But they are a fickle lot,
How long before they cancel you?

A crusade against good taste,
No endgame in sight,
Getting your jollies from tearing others down,
Spewing bile for its own sake,
Caps lock in place of reason,
Your keyboard acting as blunt scalpel,

But what if that blade were turned on you?
Are you so brave in person?
Can the follower hold his own?
Do you truly hold the ideals of that base collective?
When you’re the next target for their games,
Will the keyboard protect you too?

This keyboard,
This plastic muse,
An instrument of your will,
Like the typewriters of old,
With these keys,
Q and A and N,
You can fire off a qwerty salvo,
For ire or peace,
Be you philosopher or troll?

This keyboard,
It’s a portal to the world,
A bridge for communication,
Or a facade for animosity,
Your hands become megaphones,
For complaints and poetry and belle-lettres,
The keys enable your artifice,
For ill or morality,
Be you dictator or philanthropist?

Blue screen,
Messages and thoughts abound,
A virus of stress broke through,
Enkindling the synapses,
The brain is overloaded,

Sparks fly,
Vivid depictions of strain,
Voltaic jolts of heartfelt pain,
All shades of superheated emotion,
Overthinking overdrive,

The circuits melt,
Into pitiful sludge,
Formerly logical solder,
Masterfully artificed,
Worn down over years,

As the cortex fries,
This biological frame shuts down,
Finally overwhelmed,
This defect is systemic,
A restart is required.

Good day inmates!

A quick little note before my “main event” tonight. Oh yes, I’m posting something new tonight. Something a little different. Something a little political. I finally know when I shall be regaining internet. This is grand news as you can imagine, it feels rather odd never being able to access the internet. I simply can’t wait! I’ll be able to get back to unleashing more regular writings and ramblings as I was before. I will be regaining internet again on the 23rd of September, which is next Tuesday. Glory, I say! I hope to see you all around the asylum soon!


Until next time my kindly inmates, have a very crazy day!