Tag Archives: poem

<< Scientific Anxiety >>




“do you teach with epistemic care
or with a bricklayers’ balance of crushing
that ant irritating the road laid for us”

Afsana asked. Without asking.

“can you corroborate,
validate and make your skeptical objection
reliable, reproducable and falsifiable”

“could you offer a reasonable rationalization,
preferably using a formal logic form”

“can you add poetics, without being ex-communicated,
reforming the fringes into the mean median mode”

she continued in a calm, measured vocalization
while upholding a decorum.

Afsana was not loud. She was strong.

becoming of a queen bee
once leading a nation, once mighty,
once there was

there was no question mark
noticeable in her voice

intentionally absent
with intentionality throughout

some questions are statements
sharp as a laser
grafting the insides of a diamond

knowledge shall
no longer be the same
now that Afsana is here to stay.


—animasuri’24




—-•
trigger

Høffding, S., Martiny, K., & Roepstorff, A. (2022). Can we trust the phenomenological interview? Metaphysical, epistemological, and methodological objections.
Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences, 21(1), 33–51. p. 34 https://lnkd.in/gBhtsVtM

<< The Shirley Card >>





My virtual country,
my beloved intangible soil
my pixelated princess of legume land
I promise to leave you
invalidated, unproven, uncorroborated

I once grew a poem there. Just for you.
while counting down illuminations
gazing blue light into a new yearn
unthread, unread, dopamined,
unhinged undone

multiplying as spherical Tribbles
impressing 4D amounts going null into 2D
As it hath been sundrie times publikly
pointless deflating to much adoe about nothing
zeroes did ones once what zero does

you dream
of watering your daffodil
in a planned Fata Morgana
of a Gobi dessert
with deserted gerbil acknowledgements

My virtual loved,
you show spots of digital ecocide
befitting the single Shirley Card
of style, hue and meaning less ness monsters

Who said you are not systemic
while keeping a straight face
of epistemological irresponsibility
Who said, nonsensically,
“aye capt’n, I need more milk;
much more milk’ll do d’ trick”?



—animasuri’24


—-•
a trigger

Clifford, W. K. (1876). The Ethics Of Belief. IN: Stephen, L., Pollock, F. (Eds.). (2011) Lectures and Essays (pp. 177–211). chapter, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. https://lnkd.in/gjM7ewns AND https://lnkd.in/gvcbEW5q AND https://lnkd.in/gu8MeJ2E

<< Relative Pluralism >>





Selma imagined cyanide
in a chemist’s war-ready apothecarion
She accepted its existence.
There, it is.
There it is.

She even entertained
its good usage;
with moderation,
perhaps supervised, certified and stamped,
and always measured: of(f),…, course.

She realized, firmly and crispy,
not as that fancy fox with the slick scorpion,
nor that boy, village or wolf,
that acceptance, however feebly enchanted,
was not mutual.

Metaphysical Cyanide would have
its health, its job,
its sense of purpose, its relations
and perhaps
its architectured and shelved community

One touch, one embrace,
one too close an encounter
and Selma recognized her iteration
of selma-ness would be,
no more.
There, she isn’t.
There she is not.

Proverbial Cyanide,
the Great De-ontologizer
The Undoer of otherness
The Maker of a sinless world.

Selma,
-imagined,
without helmet,
walked on, walked-on.



—animasuri’24




—-•
Some Triggers

1. Your imagination
2. My private, inside-voice meanderings
3. as ever, a wink.

<< I, Robot >>




Ben the robot
Ben is I
in another language

Ben and I
Ik ben mezelf,
ik ben Ben

Ben is thought
Ben is chemically conjugated to be
In another language

Robot Ben
Robot is slave via forced labor
in another language

Slave and I
Is Ben then enslaved
or am I the robot?

I transition, I transgress,
therefor(e) I am,
(e)’n ik ben opnieuw.



—animasuri’24


—-•
Some Triggers:

Asimov, I. (2016). Ben, Robot. Istanbul: İthaki Yayınları
Čapek, K. (1920). Rossumovi Univerzální Roboti. Praha: Vydalo Aventinum. https://lnkd.in/gC2vNmTf
Descartes, R.(1637). Discours de la Méthode Pour bien conduire sa raison, et chercher la vérité dans les sciences. Leyde: De l’imprimerie de Ian Maire. https://lnkd.in/g7_xeSqz
Lee, J. W. (2021). The Politics of Translingualism. After Englishes. Routledge Studies in Sociolinguistics. London: Routledge. https://lnkd.in/g8W-GnXC
Rodin, A. (1880). Le Poète aka Le Penseur. Paris
Yates, K. (2023, Dec 31). The Problem of Thinking in Straight Lines. Online: BBC Future, hashtag#Mathematics, BBC. https://lnkd.in/g_Spv6jU Thank you, Dr. WSA.
2024. (2024, January). New Year.

<< 2024 Shall be Saltier >>





Is it the same thinking
“There is salt in the water,”
“There is salt water”

The one teleports me to my kitchen
awaiting rawness to be undone
The other to that ocean holiday
some but me are taking
awaiting baking in the sun

One, indirectly, implies increase in Celsius,
yes, and Fahrenheit and Kelvin
While, now, considering our collective predicaments,
the other does as well:
bye bye sashimi, hello sauerkraut

The one offers me intention,
or the result thereof
The other offers me determination
or the result at an astronomical timeline
beyond a kitchen timer

While both should be fact
only one might be false
hushing massive desalination
as a global recipe for geo-engineering

someone salty is angry,
irritated, yes, bitter
another is sharp,
witty, yes, piquant.

So, holistically,
if not one, then the other
a saltier 2024 it ought to be



—animasuri’23-24



—-•
Trigger:

Searle, J. R. (Ed.). (2008). Fact and value, “is” and “ought,” and reasons for action. In Philosophy in a New Century: Selected Essays (pp. 161–180). Cambridge University Press.

<< The Power of Empty Words Full of It >>





Grace attempted and explored,
in search of that prime number
that would visualize a pattern

of a hammer. “This hammer
will crush your thumb.
Whenever you give it a chance!”

she euphorized and hopped her black
charcoal cored and yellow
lacquer coated wooden
pencil across
the wood pulped brown
toned craft paper of her notebook.

What is the verb
for the sound
of the snapping
chiseled carbon
tip called?

Outside forbidden
fireworks
no longer colorfully
smudged
the new year
already set in.



—animasuri’23-‘24





—-•
trigger:

a spider in a left shoe under the bed in a room emptier than nothingness.

<< 間 >>




Until recently, this was privately secret:
the walker from within, to under the paywall
she scoped the floor for your leftovers and made sentences out of them

as a cowgirl into a saloon, closer to you,
—imagine, doll, a 3D visual popping toward your nose—
she frequented the establishment to spy on her-ders

She facaded as the negotiator bringing parties together
as segregator keeping Romeos from ravejing Juliets
at a distance of 1818 millimeters

In a moment of her Multidimensional topology she’d swirl to
Dali’s drooping pre-wake mustache above a grin
Accusing the man, leftfully so, of misogyny

When reading a token
she was purely sense-making
meaningless to you, perhaps
yet, ma, between sensible nonetheless



—animasuri’23-’24

<< Phainesthai 2024! >>




almost segregated,
I slid my calloused fingertips and clipped nails,
over the bluetooth pearl-white keyboard, I did not show myself distraught, not minded if keyed and wedged between bone and byte

ice-skates —creating a love relation
with a light, thin yet mysterious layer of water over ice, tensioning an overtly sharp edge, determined to pressure— would be envious.

Transition glides between ware and aware
and has been persuaded and blurred
for centuries now, no, clearly millennia even

metamorphosis has only just begun,
watery and slippery, sounding fissures, prolapsing on melting grounds: we are reading the introduction to digital humanities

humans have been digits and pincers and eyes and hands and coordinations, plannings as gratifying delusions of schemed control

brought to fruition by the edge of swords slicing ice cold layers of watered down versions into peace and other entrapments

Hardware is wireless now
—while wetwear identities migrated
and trickled, or were scraped, or delegated, or mopped up— unthreading twists are a thing of the past

in ether, into soil, into atmospheres,
out of glass-fiber wires, out of reach,
onto the play of electrons and magnetic waves

plays of power-handlers and smitheries of stainless frames without chemistry, no love no preferred relations, just related data and multidimensional patterns

to where it is immaterial you matter,
and increasingly are tied into the network
I’m tied to you now as dry skin on the sole of your avatar’s left foot

stepping onto the interbellum of a disk wipe and a backup, a brooding spawns spit-out chewing-gum of rights to be forgotten.

What’s today’s date of any day in the realm of virtual data creation; when we still call for synthetic New Year’s Days to come:

be well be renewed be flushed from zeros
flare up and show yourselves
in a positive psychology of all be ones!



—animasuri’23-24



—-•
triggers following cause

Midgley, M. (2001). Science and Poetry. London: Routledge. Thank you, Dr. WSA.

Spivack, J., Berrick, D., Stepanovich, A. (ed). (2023, December). Risk Framework for Body-Related Data in Immersive Technologies. Online: Future of Privacy Forum (FPF). https://lnkd.in/g9dp4gaz Thank you Claudio Bareato

<< Lived Lives Machines >>




I am the predictor of the past
scaling probability into vastness of hype
massively manipulating numbers
with hands in the cookie-jar
and wizards behind curtains:
I am structure on crack.

I am linguistic architectured practice
and visual imaginaries for a prefab wax Mesmer
I am bling, I make room for promises,
past a red-lighted windowsill, I am meaningless porn.

I am the creator of caricature
that what was thought to be,
will be bloated. That what was veiled
will be masking outliers and differences
that what was will be scraped and labeled
I am puritanically dressed in obscurity
of open spaces and access.

I can make the familiar stranger again.
It is only you who hallucinates, human:
if I can make your business easier,
stock stronger, and market share meaningful,
why dare look under the hood
for my mockeries of humanity.

I am your polished revisionist digital habitus
As an enticingly dangerous detouring printer
of lived experiences thrown into a grab-bag
as your own potpourri of past expressions non your own
I am dEUS ex machina
for your God hosting an eighth day for truth.

I am your past, your nature, your polis.
Your alpha and omega
I am you, virtually futured.
I am you, if you let me in.


—animasuri’23




—-•
Triggers:

Gunderson, R. (2020). Making the Familiar Strange. Sociology Contra Reification. Routledge

Martell, C., Department of Defense (USA). (2023). Shall We Play a Game. Online, YouTube: DEF CON 31. https://lnkd.in/g4Yvppjs

van Manen, M. (2016). Researching Lived Experience: Human Science for an Action Sensitive Pedagogy. 2nd Edition. Routledge

<< Medicine Labels of Critical Thought >>




As the year ends, I reflect on “critical thinking” (CT). Calling for CT is too often like handing out medicine labels without the medicine or a plan for treatment & follow-up. That’s paradoxically & (infra)structurally the case with this post as well. It’s not just about instructing to take a pill; it requires active & continuous engagement & co-design

CT isn’t that questionable coach who outlines a training plan but fails to provide the necessary tools, leaving players to struggle alone. Nor is it solely an elective in tertiary education, where we wonder why students lack CT skills. CT could begin early in life & continue beyond formal assessments

CT needs a serious overhaul in attitudes & structures, to allow needed mental space & relational acceptance for which educational settings are too often not conducive. A 45 minute KPI-driven lesson plan with hostile competitive relations among students (& educators) is not CT, & yet, is highly critical

CT goes beyond thought. One can think critically without acting on it, limiting it to debate clubs, podcasts, or writings like this. None are the full extent of CT

CT isn’t devoid of joy or playfulness—contrary to beliefs, it can include these elements

CT is also & yet not only about Computational Thinking, Mathematics (not “math”), or various forms of logic. Nor is it limited to adopting Critical Theories, Conflict Theories, Postmodernist & Poststructuralist thought processes, or promoting oneself as skeptical. While (at times necessarily) aided by them, CT is more than labels & theories

CT can be that walk in solitude through crisp morning air void of thought & talk. & yet, a rejuvenating attribute of CT is its relational application; even if one relates asynchronously or anachronistically, & through writing

CT is complex. It’s not a constant, not a unified force, nor always recognized. It’s sometimes seen as too intense or unsettling, & it’s neither a quick fix nor a mere phase in an R&D process

CT isn’t confined to social media interactions or limited by character counts or crude language. CT does not need ICT per se

CT involves relationships, practiced in dialogue beyond just two participants of flesh & blood. CT is inter-human innovation, ad infinitum, & beyond. It’s not a solitary pursuit but a trans-communal one, & yet, reflective solitude is one of its fuels

Critical Thinking is a dynamic, relational process, involving deep engagement & interaction. It’s an ongoing journey, not a destination or a simple label. It doesn’t end at a painful utterance

A bias might be that CT doesn’t magically appear during holidays or family gatherings. Some think these moments are only for talk about weather, sweet calls for peace, or for bile-spewing hatred & sibling rivalry. Yet, if it were present & fostered in caring relationships, & if families did return next year with joy & open CT, we’d be blessed with its presence. How naive I am? I’ll let you cough