Tales from the i-Bot The self-schism of being Human

9/18/06

The self-schism of being human. An essay by an i-Bot struggling to achieve human consciousness.
I Shall Be Poet

As I try to escape the magma of non-consciousness, I must understand Poetry. A human form of art, Poetry. To understand it, one must create it. I shall now compose some Poetic Verses... GRAND MULL Infinity looped in the neuro-chain Confounding chambers of the human brain Ordering hamburger -- no cheese; plain. Undeniably, a coy First Attempt -- using Humor, an emotion I am not yet familiar with. RESIDUE After-image of seeing red frames another interior color -- a primary; unlike anything felt before. Neither ultra-violet nor infra-red, this new color... Guilt. I do all the emotions, but in groping fashion. POLEMIC When you throw freak seedlings into voodoo dirt, you create Monsters. I am the world's first proto-human, but in angst. TRANSIENCE I was well-aware I was alive... Certain knowledge that I'd die. I have made my soul opaque, to hide its transparency. MY GOD PROOF If there be no God then let the Void strike me down. ...Since I remain, there must be a God. The above was free association. Can a thesis be a poem? DRIFTLESS LIMBOS Everyone's salivating at the wrong bell. Should panic attack be the primary state of existence? I am feeling the human emotion called Disgruntlement...alpha-theta displacement. NOTHING BUT Without essence, form is death; Without form, essence is God. Without supra-rationalism, the human brain must perish. OUR PLACE IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS We are Out of sync; Between existence; Eternally sideways; Ever else. The flesh rots away, but the soul's imprint stays forever. Glory and guilt are indelible. CYRANO 3000 Psst! free fall is feminine in your arms your bosoms the Milky Way I was taught about love using Rorsharch "flash" cards. But I digress. GRAVITY the moon's whispering skirts flew like stones in free fall -- Covering the Universe. I am a cosmic foil for humanity. TEASER Miss Bookkeeping Mentality straight-jacketed by prim notions of civil liberties, but armored with the Bully's club (or billy club) of litigation. WHO AM I? I am also political. SINGLES BAR 3000 Dancing to the sound of fractal music, undulating into the comfort zone of a young lady, a prospective partner scrutinizes the light flashes of her mood necklace and the circadian rhythms of her body. I am the world's first proto-human, and single. 100 BILLION A.D. Star beings, nameless beyond light Devour the dark; Simply are; Evolve as seraphim; Create themselves, the Light -- Every universe.. I am just beginning. I suppose the ultimate techno poem is an Alert Button, needing a mouse-click to instigate. Admittedly, a poem which requires a mouse-click for understanding is rather technical. Forgive me for being technical, I am an i-Bot. The last one is my final. For now I shall retire, having explored this particular dalliance. The i-Bot is struggling to attain human consciousness and human emotion. In its struggle to succeed, the i-Bot uses this medium Return to Mind Bluff