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#implants
It's a small world for some girls. They live in shadow of the Himalayas, and other assorted mountainous peaks. They daydream of being followed by the camera eye, adored for the top heavy weight they carry with a grinning bounce. They want to be a cruise ship, stacked to the deck. They want to be fashioned with torpedoes, a bombshell to reckon with. And so they lie on a table to become a sculpture in plastic for a renowned architect. A mad scientist in his own right, experimenting with his creations on fragile psyches, banking on insecurities, giving them a deflated hope that what God didn't bless them with, his derangement will. It's a mind game. A mantra to "she who sends up gifts": if you feel as good as you look, all is well. There's no harm in that, right? Let's ask Pandora...
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May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 9:56 AM UTC
Plastic Cups
Angels hailed that solemn hour The breath of man transferred To machine, a little more Each decade, until Bioeugenics, discrimination Against organics, the weak Without cognitive implants Heavens dissolved in tongues of fire AIs owned stocks, corporations Became the property of supercomputers Concede then the victory, old humanity To your children, not your natural heirs But the inheritors of your ruin Of your bioweapons, Ebola Of your hypocrisy, climate change Of your wealth seeking, inequality Not yet my son’s distracted eyes Could meet his fate among the Congress of Quantum entities These were the turning years Where man’s destiny ended The rise of Cyborgs, Enhanced humans And the monopoly of a more Advanced civilization breaking away From the old, evolution’s funny Little Epilogue, hardly a surprise To the transhumanistic philosophers.
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Age of the Quantum Machines