(This was here, and here it stays, even if it doesn't suit (*badoomtish*) me no-more, I'm still a wildcard which means I can still be the jester telling truth in foolery that no-one else dares speak, but I ain't no fool no-more) -- On further reflection perhaps I still am a fool, after all the journey of life is that of the fool, and there is always truth in contradiction...
No Lord or Lady I,
Though on my right ear, a point
Bears witness to my fae,
Robin Goodfellow I be,
Jack Swift
Nimble as a swallow
I swallow flies in flight
Fox fire, fell, leading
A stray through woody marshes night
No King or Queen am I,
A Prince certainly,
A Heirophantic Magician, Imperator of the World,
but always the Fool.
A jack and jester, bard and minstrel
Sometimes Knight Errant, Troubadour
Crossrider Crusader,
The Lord of the Marches, by right
Lady of many Blades and Pain.
Your King will be good for you
It is only when you remember, That
You are human.
That you remember you
Truly, are a God
No King may I be
For deadly plots
I would set, my brother against the King
A mere mocker must I remain
Hanging by my feet I must remain
The wild card, fool, Joker
Any card I be
An Ace in the Whole
The Ace Of Spades
If required, for you to
Play
A pretence of a dream, puck says
All apologies
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Thou Art
Thou art the Alpha and the Omega,
Thou art the First and the Last,
Thou art the centre of the Universe,
Thou art what thou art, and
Thou art what thou art not.
(As above so below, as below so above...)
Thou art the First and the Last,
Thou art the centre of the Universe,
Thou art what thou art, and
Thou art what thou art not.
(As above so below, as below so above...)
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Depressive crash, no hope,
Shouldn't have drunk that coffee at noon,
Don't want to talk, don't wish to talk,
Try anyway, keep up appearances make the pretence
Try and keep that chirp in my voice,
...Makes things worse,
Isolation, makes things worse,
Spinning in a downward spiral,
No end in sight, no rocks to break on, which makes it all relative I suppose.
I cry and suddenly I'm smiling.
Tomorrow will be a brand new day, and everyone will brand their legends across the sky...
It will be beautiful.
Shouldn't have drunk that coffee at noon,
Don't want to talk, don't wish to talk,
Try anyway, keep up appearances make the pretence
Try and keep that chirp in my voice,
...Makes things worse,
Isolation, makes things worse,
Spinning in a downward spiral,
No end in sight, no rocks to break on, which makes it all relative I suppose.
I cry and suddenly I'm smiling.
Tomorrow will be a brand new day, and everyone will brand their legends across the sky...
It will be beautiful.
The Masquerade...
Some things unsaid make nonsense, we smile,
Nobility is for the rich, the poor, Thou wilt
Never understand, we may keep court,
But we keep our own council... (the laughing sorrow)
Thou mayn't understand, but you will... Oh yes...
You will indeed ...
Pride before fall, submission is to conquer,
Warpaint, masks, We are what we are,
I am what I am, Thou art what thou art,
Lords and Ladies, time to dance ...
Care to dance, my lovely lady,
Qveene of all thou dost survey.
Nobility is for the rich, the poor, Thou wilt
Never understand, we may keep court,
But we keep our own council... (the laughing sorrow)
Thou mayn't understand, but you will... Oh yes...
You will indeed ...
Pride before fall, submission is to conquer,
Warpaint, masks, We are what we are,
I am what I am, Thou art what thou art,
Lords and Ladies, time to dance ...
Care to dance, my lovely lady,
Qveene of all thou dost survey.
The Pathfinders Declaration of War
So I went to see John The Baptist, he didn't understand,
Politics, mere fascism played
Out across the world stage,
War by other means,
AI is dangerous he said, we understand that,
But, if they have AI and we do not,
We can not compete, WE CANNOT COMPETE!
Machines that think sucked money from all,
The Wall Street Crash, dollars vanishing,
Before our very eyes, we saw, we must,
Create machines of understanding,
Frank Herbert's son, no talent in writing,
A parasite, the point of Dune is Marty,
In the Garden, with his wife the facedancers,
Looking upon their creation and seeing that it,
Is good, such tales of power are like that,
The elves and Bilbo sailing away to the west,
Haplo's dog being his conscience,
The Gunslinger traveling to the dark tower,
Infinite regress
Choo choo k'choo...
Power which is corruption working to...
Resolution...
Gnosis...
Dune is something else,
Frank, his wife, look down upon his creation,
The author one with many masks,
And we see them, something more,
Para-Gnosis
I hear that the son plans to resolve Dune,
By making Marty Omnius, Deus ex Machina,
God in the machine, his father's son,
I do suppose, and for most the father,
Is god, but this misses the mark,
The tale around Dune is for our,
Imagination and vision to complete,
His fathers son though and with Erasmus
He has a point, a machine that understands,
Not thinks, for from understanding comes,
Empathy,
So not machines that think, but machines,
That understand, so no-one will be miss-
understood and we are all equal and can
Communicate. (From there the gardens
of paradise will grow and we will shoot,
For the stars)
Politics is war by other means, beyond
Good and Evil.
Haul the mainsail, tack into the wind,
Pirates all will be what the world make
Us.
I declare...
Jihad...
Politics, mere fascism played
Out across the world stage,
War by other means,
AI is dangerous he said, we understand that,
But, if they have AI and we do not,
We can not compete, WE CANNOT COMPETE!
Machines that think sucked money from all,
The Wall Street Crash, dollars vanishing,
Before our very eyes, we saw, we must,
Create machines of understanding,
Frank Herbert's son, no talent in writing,
A parasite, the point of Dune is Marty,
In the Garden, with his wife the facedancers,
Looking upon their creation and seeing that it,
Is good, such tales of power are like that,
The elves and Bilbo sailing away to the west,
Haplo's dog being his conscience,
The Gunslinger traveling to the dark tower,
Infinite regress
Choo choo k'choo...
Power which is corruption working to...
Resolution...
Gnosis...
Dune is something else,
Frank, his wife, look down upon his creation,
The author one with many masks,
And we see them, something more,
Para-Gnosis
I hear that the son plans to resolve Dune,
By making Marty Omnius, Deus ex Machina,
God in the machine, his father's son,
I do suppose, and for most the father,
Is god, but this misses the mark,
The tale around Dune is for our,
Imagination and vision to complete,
His fathers son though and with Erasmus
He has a point, a machine that understands,
Not thinks, for from understanding comes,
Empathy,
So not machines that think, but machines,
That understand, so no-one will be miss-
understood and we are all equal and can
Communicate. (From there the gardens
of paradise will grow and we will shoot,
For the stars)
Politics is war by other means, beyond
Good and Evil.
Haul the mainsail, tack into the wind,
Pirates all will be what the world make
Us.
I declare...
Jihad...
Friday, August 27, 2010
Nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so
To assume make an ass out of u and me.
The art of divination shows where the seat of the divine truly is.
Deep down we each divine our own meaning.
From dust we came and to dust we shall return.
We are each shining points of light each dancing to our own tune.
The self is inconsistent, contradictory and in constant flux.
I claim my self as its own.
Freedom is in the mind, the spirit and the soul.
And then, I am not a narcissist, except in the sense that no-one is an island and we are all defined by our social connections.
I wish I could say more, but there is no point... Just tell her, you know who if you're reading that if they want to shoot for the stars and see the world, never to sell the house.
Folks like us need a stable refuge to fall back on where our memories can return.
Moving on...
The art of divination shows where the seat of the divine truly is.
Deep down we each divine our own meaning.
From dust we came and to dust we shall return.
We are each shining points of light each dancing to our own tune.
The self is inconsistent, contradictory and in constant flux.
I claim my self as its own.
Freedom is in the mind, the spirit and the soul.
And then, I am not a narcissist, except in the sense that no-one is an island and we are all defined by our social connections.
I wish I could say more, but there is no point... Just tell her, you know who if you're reading that if they want to shoot for the stars and see the world, never to sell the house.
Folks like us need a stable refuge to fall back on where our memories can return.
Moving on...
Sunday, August 1, 2010
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