2020 - day 120
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
12:21 PM
passport day, despite the masks, there is humor, for a while,
in social distancing, plus masks...
yesterday on the Sunrise Highway stretch of the Pacific Crest,
we saw
flag men and the whole road gang, employees, not prison contract labor,
these guys are all smart enough to get the job, there they are, smart guys,
and all wearing masks, I wonder
who made sense of that, and who did it in solidarity with an us narrative.
United, we stand, divided, we fall...
Global Brain reports Mortal
Brains being trained to new normal,
such concarne systems, can,
if willed, pupose-ful, con determination mit energetic application made,
freely,
it appears, according to Youtube and Facebook,
that
such brains, meat-mind-gut-heart-skin sensation interpretation systems,
only get upgrades on this scale, once, in a generation.
The augmental roll out hits first adapters about fifty years after first frontal cortex
call, plea, actually,
for myination, squeeky voices, peeps, feed me, feed me
urges and cravings unheard of before,
BTW,
puberty models future imaginations of hell, the body remembers,
advertisers play to that
comfort sells better than ***, in a hormonal reset crisis, *** needs no ads...
so many signals cross in chaotic knots, even stretching that last nerve
so tight...
some result in broken strands, but
human brains evolved the idea of normal, calm and continuing, carry on...
says the king of the village,
head of the clan,
da man o'dehouse; twas he who said what we do next,
and come a time, some say you remember wrong,
so writer man,
him say I write what seer say he see,
so
scribblers writ what was agreed, we all formed a public, for crying out
loud,
and neighbors had public faces, same as private faces... no opposing faces.
We danced with no masks... spaceship earthers have no secrets...
Time was, man's inhumanity to man was intolerable, now,
man's humanity
is intolerable,
--- you doubt? --- later, we talk how tuning and balancing was lost as senses,
but to a few... who knew the life in words can dissipate authority,
if left lying idle, too long.
2020
the power in a free press belongs to the owner of the presses,
and we have voice activated presses connected to any hearing ear or seeing eye,
willing to listen in...
before radio evolved to the smart-phone,
a soap box in the village square was as far as freedom of expression could go.
Now, we have four and more generations of
normal
humans who have heard radio music and commentary, from the womb.
These are the first adapters, sapien sapien augmented
radio heads, wired
naturally
with some vagus curve capacity to signal gut responses
faster, by virtue of habing
some bits slicker than, say
normal wierdos,
literal
*** heads, like Johnny Appleseed Chapman...
re
ference: Certified Disneyfied Americana Clue founded,
standing on--
American Bogus Science Fable, which
teaches of JA as a crazy old man with something like a plan,
to live happy as ever, right now, as best he knew how,
thus
Shane, and so on, mindphuck for boys in the fifties,
whose dad's had won the war and built the bomb,
and broke the unions...
lonely boys had songs, tuned to their comfort in sorrow shared circuit
being installed from early 1953 through -- current time
music in the air, or from the air, is took for granted by any child
as something doable, the poorest of the poor can play at playing internet games,
using Poke'mon cards...manually,
and their brains work different than even Turing and Von Neuman imagined.
Feynman and Teller both admitted the sense of humor,
kids have and
AI can imagine,
Ai ai ai can imagine,
in light of history, they agree,
that sense of the playful, ludologous letting go.
is the same sense in humans...
which does good, like a medicine.
So,
a solitary man makes a solitary plan, leaving a mark mattered not,
living free as one man can be.
Pioneer social distancing, all my heros were outlaws,
rustlers, mostly,
my ancestors never wished to live in towns,
so they never did.
But, you know they poached turkeys and deer as order set in.
Old normal is fully functional, add electricity... how happy can a man be?
Alone?
Less than not-alone, more than in a maddened crowd.
Out on the edge of civilization,
we walk along Al Gore's old info super hiway, asking for sneezers
willing to give a viral idea blowing in the wind,
one good whiff,
wrinkle y' gnose,
tickling fancies we
fancy few have tickled since Tesla became a car.
We make next up. No lie. Keep kicking.
The future is nothing like some people imagined. Stamps are no longer money, they used to be a way a poor man could make exchanges... wonder what they got planned?
