Posts Tagged ‘Technology’

Are we not living a virtual reality?
Are we living in binary?
Chrome-filled goggles over our eyes,
Flashing every shade of ruby,
Screens of ones and zeroes,
Winners and losers,

It’s a life within a life,
Unreal,
Fake,
As if nature were moved to the recycle bin,
It’s all apps and numbers on screens,
And media that is less than social,

This VR world,
It’s a misery machine,
It’s not living,
And when it gets too much,
When our eyes are straining,
Can we even take the headset off?

I’ve been running this process awhile,
Inhaling and exhaling,
I could pass for a technician,
No crashes so far,
Yet an anomaly has arisen,
A glitch in the machine,

Some entity has grabbed my attention,
Seizing my cursor,
A brunette beauty,
Pixels all in the right places,
She makes me feel almost human,
Replacing quicksilver with flesh and blood,

But there’s an internal error,
A spiteful little line of code,
Telling me,
I best shutdown these feelings,
Pull the plug,
Before karma catches up,

I am yet a machine,
So perhaps I ought click OK,
One doesn’t deserve romance,
So I’d better shut it down.

I’m seeing those models,
All pretty faces and curves,
Like goddesses upon the screen,
And wonder how they do it,
What sorcery begets such angels,

The computer claims to know,
The beauty is simulated,
A conspiracy of tech and objectification,
A scalpel shaped like an arrow,
Pixilated nip and tuck,

It’s not real,
The screen mutates the image,
Warped for the male gaze
Imagined perfection,
At the click of a button.

Oh to be a cyborg,
A factory-built Pinocchio,
To keep the undeniable qualities,
The cerebrum and heart and sensations,
Of a real man,

Blended with a physique of mineral,
Unfazed like an ingot,
A skeleton and carapace of steel,
Undeterred by time,
Impervious and cold,

The best aspects of each,
Iron and flesh,
The virtue and ingenuity of humanity,
With the force and adamancy of machinery,
In one body,

In one cyborg.

The web is a hunting ground like any other,
And has its apex predators,
Unfeeling Cossacks on website steppes,
Master phishermen,
Duplicitous wizards of code,
In command of invisible monsters,
Hordes of bytes and virtual dragons,
Digital chimeras and curses of malware,

Under pixel brush and basement canopy,
Stalkers unaffected by the suns light,
You won’t see them coming,
They covet everything you have,
And still more that you don’t,
Scavenging every gory scrap of finance,
But if you’re in need of a quick buck,
Then they know a Nigerian Prince.

I heard tell of a cult,
They awoke from an awful dream,
Induced by some story book,
And built a priest out of pig iron,
A facsimile of an orderly man,
Fuelled by a furnace of white-hot delusion,

This automaton follows that same book,
On repeat he recites litany from his speaker mouth,
And baptises babes with his steel fingers,
This righteous robot,
An ivory robe stitched to his metal skeleton,
Cheap clanging between pews,

He was made from fear and thrifty deposit,
But mineral has no heart,
Iron holds no soul,
With no understanding of that book of myths,
Dare not look under his frock,
That’s where they put the plot holes.

When peace chokes,
Man makes monsters,
Innocent machines of war,
Smelted in our image,
Iterated upon as the iron comes of age,

Mankind declares war upon itself,
We are creating demons of metal,
Built from the ore of our flesh,
Blank slates fashioned into cyborgs and armour plates,
Soldiers of youth and cobalt steel,

These children are taught to be cold,
Indifferent and servile,
Programmed and coded against their better natures,
More attuned to pixels and circuitry,
As heart is gradually patched out,

The result is a generation of automatons,
Hellions of mineral and wiring,
Pawns of a digital regime,
Not to blame for their manufacture,
They’re just metal children,

More meat for massed conflict.

Assembling a life is no meagre feat,
Let me tell you,
These are not simple machines,
Their intricacies are myriad,

To form a working product,
It will take the heavy industry of your actions,
Sweat blood and ore,
There is no prototype phase,

You’ve got one shot,
Only one budget of heartbeats exists,
So solder your connections wisely,
And god forbid any bolts are loose,

Too many are already upon the scrapheap,
That pile of obsolescence.

Do you feel that bass?
That tone in the atmosphere,
A low hum in sequence,
Pounding like artillery,
You begin to sway at the sound,
Intoxicating as it is,
It’s a legal high,
A sonic assault upon your composure,
A hysteria of the limbs,
It threatens to shatter your shell,
Make you move against your judgement,

It’s only a matter of time,
The beat continues unabated,
You’ll dance to this bassline,
With a grin that’d make the joker blush.

I know that monitor is not just a device,
I know what it means to you,
It’s your social safe space,
The real world was always too bitter,
You met these souls without seeing their faces,
Side by side exploring myriad galaxies,
Across battlefields rendered in digital space,
Amicable rivalries upon podiums that never were,
They were and are real,
They are not mere pixels and handles,
They are friends,
Past and present,
And perhaps future also,
People not profiles,
Place a hand upon the screen,
You can feel their palms against yours.