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oh but what you are doesn't necessarily remain, we already know what you are, you are a masquerade of excuses, and your favourite subject of expressing the masquerade is philosophy - by it you find yourself excused, but because the english undermined a philosophical expression we've found a weak spot, a diaphragm sort of speak; indeed oh, what you are doesn't necessarily remain, what you create and leave behind is necessary - i just hope you find the heart to entomb in your heart those in the modern era you found pleasure in entertaining you grasping such a vain effort of your frivolous maintenance of the easily accessed numbers of similar examples - sunglasses in the night - a ghost in the machine - a soul extracted from the body in that lonely cataract of flooding applause with one actor and one member of the audience scared to applaud - your creation... your immediate loss of identity - but of course you were anticipating the organic form of what would become a cohesive inorganic entity - of the example that a mother even speaks of regarding a robot - now why would a mother speak of a robot? hmm? guess... it's a test for a.s.i., i.e. analytically synthetic intelligence - history repeats itself -                 history repeats itself -                                 you analyse no difference - hence you synthesise replication - and you call it intelligence of avoidance yet waste it on a test for intelligence quantified, rearing in politicians to craft a chiral representation of intelligence quantified - in the recycling bin - so much intelligence wasted, quantified, leaving so much stupidity qualified to fake it, instead of the recycling bin, thrown into the pigs' through... indeed, you are not what necessarily remains, all the fabulous discoveries of science, and yet the burning existential questions - thrown at you by the pyramidal scheme of the non-inventors, the once proud aristocrats languishing beneath the weight of new-money barons... indeed you are not what necessarily remains, you are what necessarily remains in what you are already... in such great number, as in the liturgy of history... an anonymity... perhaps all you ever were was a method statement of creating a soufflé, the fermentation process of grapes... how foolish you look now, readied for slaughter, attempting to clarify a famous person syndrome, grovelling like a cunt-politician slurping attention in Orwell's house - i know my stance - by the machine being fed exponentials - once only deluded if i be found prophetic on the street, but with a house bound to a value a suicide rate is worth in Switzerland (£10,000), you think i'd pleasure myself with your tabloid philosophy and wait for sympathy or disgrace? guess...                     it's free; a guess is free,                                 your little birdcage houses no sing-along.
0
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
a.s.i. (your little birdcage houses no sing-along)
oh but what you are doesn't necessarily remain, we already know what you are, you are a masquerade of excuses, and your favourite subject of expressing the masquerade is philosophy - by it you find yourself excused, but because the english undermined a philosophical expression we've found a weak spot, a diaphragm sort of speak; indeed oh, what you are doesn't necessarily remain, what you create and leave behind is necessary - i just hope you find the heart to entomb in your heart those in the modern era you found pleasure in entertaining you grasping such a vain effort of your frivolous maintenance of the easily accessed numbers of similar examples - sunglasses in the night - a ghost in the machine - a soul extracted from the body in that lonely cataract of flooding applause with one actor and one member of the audience scared to applaud - your creation... your immediate loss of identity - but of course you were anticipating the organic form of what would become a cohesive inorganic entity - of the example that a mother even speaks of regarding a robot - now why would a mother speak of a robot? hmm? guess... it's a test for a.s.i., i.e. analytically synthetic intelligence - history repeats itself -                 history repeats itself -                                 you analyse no difference - hence you synthesise replication - and you call it intelligence of avoidance yet waste it on a test for intelligence quantified, rearing in politicians to craft a chiral representation of intelligence quantified - in the recycling bin - so much intelligence wasted, quantified, leaving so much stupidity qualified to fake it, instead of the recycling bin, thrown into the pigs' through... indeed, you are not what necessarily remains, all the fabulous discoveries of science, and yet the burning existential questions - thrown at you by the pyramidal scheme of the non-inventors, the once proud aristocrats languishing beneath the weight of new-money barons... indeed you are not what necessarily remains, you are what necessarily remains in what you are already... in such great number, as in the liturgy of history... an anonymity... perhaps all you ever were was a method statement of creating a soufflé, the fermentation process of grapes... how foolish you look now, readied for slaughter, attempting to clarify a famous person syndrome, grovelling like a cunt-politician slurping attention in Orwell's house - i know my stance - by the machine being fed exponentials - once only deluded if i be found prophetic on the street, but with a house bound to a value a suicide rate is worth in Switzerland (£10,000), you think i'd pleasure myself with your tabloid philosophy and wait for sympathy or disgrace? guess...                     it's free; a guess is free,                                 your little birdcage houses no sing-along.
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Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
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