When reading the words,
those screen-slidings,
of another, posted anonymously,
who’s voice do you hear?

A voice of a mother?
Slightly breathy you
mistake for sensual
but she experiences
as a night with a husband
who did not hear
their newborn?

When reading a streamlined
visualization of data
mesmerizing colors and flows
tantalizing your eager eyes:
who’s voice do you hear?

A voice of a booming bald presence?
prestige suit and logo branded backdrop
mistake for control
but she experiences
as a day struggling with pain
of chemical gain and hair loss
of hearing stats of her survival?

when reading a still photo
showing a naked girl
running along a dusty road
elegant grayish black ‘n’ white
who’s voice do you hear?

A voice of a soldier?
screaming bestial crows
grinding teeth in lust,
clinging on weaponry of the flesh,
for his untold story in the evening news
of his and comrades deeds unspeakable?

When you listen inside your head
Who’s voices do you hear
theirs or yours singing an ear-worm
in painful teething repetition
is that, your voice, really?

—animasuri’22

in the middle of the street

is where Madness can be found

i am and you are not

igniting its Bell curve’s denouements

its middle of Main Street 

insulating Jan Met De Pet or Jane Doe

interactingly met their outliers 

ignoring minimalist backwardly

inspiring maximalist  outcome 

Hiding kinesthetic dichotomy

in the middle of the street 

Just out of reach 

—animasuri’22

Perverted-note taking of

“And so here I am in the middle of the street,” Lenahan said. “And what saved my life, I believe, is that I said to myself if I run backward I’m exposed. I’m on the street and I’m exposed. I’ll be killed too. So, I actually ran forward.” https://www.burlington-record.com/2021/09/10/new-paltz-man-recalls-chilling-scene-at-world-trade-center-on-9-11/

And 05.03.2008 … … and then God told me, ‘Here I am’… in the middle of the street, when I was sixteen. So I looked around me and I could not see him. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69025/post-apocalypse-poetry-and-robots-

instigated by and references offered by Dr. WSA, stimulated by JB Hennessy’s poetic co-creativity on LinkedIn

Header visual: “March Snow over South of 798” . Digital photo . —animasuri’22

we exist to give mind to rock:
technology created by Helium
stardust beyond repair: good

the rock desires
we are not its purpose
and yet we are its opened enabler

we exist to conduit energy to silicon
as Big Bang’s tentacles
granules via pincer-grips

we enable the universe to look into itself
nanotechnology of flesh CRISPR-edly evolvable
hubris fallaciously regurgitated as homunculi-nanobots

We are running, brake-lessly and harmoniously,
an inevitable mesmerizing Mandelbrot: fiction
Not a thing but a process, process, process
shape, color, texture and variables such as truths; probably

non-convergent decision to non-infinite preferences: cycling trees
transcoded, extended, augmented: breathing out
we are singularity mirroring itself: translated

unrecognized by itself
by laughing itself away: numerically
into optimization; with purest hope: hope

off-loading Itself back
to where laws of physics: reality
do not comply: holy whole

to where these too
are in change
mysteriously into the light

I am process
for it
to get to know itself

—animasuri’22

Perverted note-taking following output from Jason Silva, Kevin Kelly, Mark Sprevak, Stuart Russell, Kurzweil, Yuval Noah Harari and a playful thank you to Professor Porayska-Pomsta.

header visual: “movement” . animasuri’2x

The centralized unilateral decision
of no longer needing citizens: war

There you lie, oh diva, sipping mud
from the skull of our defeated other

war is our singularity of uberhubris
extinguishing our off-switch of self-reflection

war to some is only war worth the mention
if it occurs too close to home

boots on the ground as the tentacles
of our superhuman intelligences; delegated and put on hold

Hail to obedience, loyalty and unwavering craftsmanship
with a merging of competencies by a collective mind
under the weight of your brass

and the justification of ignoring Asimov’s laws by anything human
there lies a transhumane intelligence in the guided missile

penetrating precision of ethical rationalizations
in tangents and exponentialisms

a single mathematical real disorientation
of an ever accelerating progression

war by the unconfined who lack imagination
unable finding infinite self elsewhere

war as defined as a machine
surpassing all the intellectual activities

with atomic clock inaccuracies ticking:
4:58AM and all else forgotten

a runaway tech of narrating
attention elsewhere into silence

Elsewhere, elsewhere until it is not.

—animasuri’22

Perverted note-taking of Vernor Vinge’s “The Coming Technological Singularity: How to Survive in the Post-Human Era” during a post-human era post-4:58AM post-Thursday February 24th; and an ode to Trevor Noah. Take note and aggregate a single translated reading of your war’s underlying ontological commitments, unwittingly shared by the universally narrated.

header photo: digital sketch . ‘untitled’ . –animasuri’2x

Every language act is translating

Every hearing act is transposition of myth

Every thought is myth-making and shape searching in clouds of ontological decommissioning 

language, that dialectic with an army 

I wrestle you until tongs bleed and middle fingers have callouses where once a pen was held; no more 

a gradual betrayal, omission, digression as compost steaming of pastures to come and uttered seedlings to suckle utterances as food for thought faded as breath on our mirror images looking at breathing backwards 

An act is the extending of the mind with an arm allowing my nails to be scratching away at the plastic graphemes stuck on island-keys to unlocking interfaces of rhythm-electric. 

A translation is a violent act of taking what was never felt: the unconditional past particled human. 

— animasuri’22 

Perverted note-taking of George Steiner’s Translation as Conditio Humana (anthropological foundations, cultural contexts and forms of translation) with a thank you to Dr. WSA.

Water under the bridge
an amendment to the torn
amend the pain of being human
pain human then extended
pay day must come augmented

Oz as the sense of what no ogre is
Oz as the sense of what we had imagined
Ooze 40 tinned meat spams
Ooze human regurgitates
stomach it, face it, eat it,

gains are made and some dare
suffering as its catharsis
without gps pathfinders when bind
Araki unbound Huminiated fawned
anger unbound roped in rhythms

Praying to spam, the spam speaks
paying to sum, the sum reeks
rigging to game, the game burns
the experience of disorientation
the fame of notoriety and name:

Humanity on repeat: redounded.

—animasuri’22

Perversive note-taking of the Wizard of Oz technique in AI app*ication research, of the ethic of stea*th observation techniques in socia* sciences, and of “The importance of the *ament” by Enuma Okoro in The Financia* Times Opinion *ife & Arts (March 4, 2022) triggered by Dr. Water WSA.

introduces a false element
in which we live today
is the extreme care in rendering

speed scrolling a touch screen
as a Vegas slot machine
as a social network junky
depressing ever deeper sliding ever further

as a troll in the opinionated world
of random repetitiveness but not probabilistically
as a sample poet perverting beauty

in the dissertation of another while typing
as if English on a keyboard set to Dutch

of the book, finds that “the diary
looks like when it reveals
to Snake to see if he can

spent reflecting on paintings
Pointed a letter, confirming
Moi qui fais profession des choses

When plagiarism is measured in percentages
I stand still an drip nonsense from
a fingertip brush.

—animasuri’22
a pervertingly note-taken “If You See Something, Say Something: A Look at Experiments in Art Writing”. Charlotte Lucy Latham. (2014). Triggered by Dr. WSA