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Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.here's a schematic representation of the changes to the youtube algorithm... the changes look as follows A(c) B(b) C(a)... or perhaps even Ab Bc Ca... or even A(b) B(a) C(c)... there are variants, all in the same vein of argument... the dictionary / thesaurus standard of the algorithmic categorical impetus... which "miraculously" disappeared... sure... the alphabetic order is somehow intact... but the synonym aspect of expansion is lost... i have lost access to, say A... and subsequent (a), synonyms... and instead "gained" access to the antonyms (b / c)... there's literally a linguistic explanation to the conundrum of the current algorithm... A doesn't follow with (a), but rather (b / c)... B doesn't follow with (b), but rather (a / c); and C doesn't follow with (c), bur rather (a / b)... if this new youtube algorithm were akin to a dictionary.... i'd be looking up a word like aardvark, and subsequently finding an word like chipmunk next to it... (a) contradicts (c)... although both are synonyms in the category B, i.e. burrowing (mammals)... but an *aardvark is not a chipmunk... this new youtube algorithm is *******... never try to fix something that's not broken... but given how this current guise of the algorithm, will not be fixed... the fun of the internet died this year... and it's not like the high street has music shops... how many ******* shoes, clothes and mobile phones do i actually need?!

why would i put myself through all this...
listening to online political
commentary response videos?
now i can't find *rob zombie
's song
michael on the jukebox...
         first they took the music shops.
and then they went after
the internet jukebox...
        i have to lament these changes...
"improvements"...
   spending a night engrossed in
brick walls while drinking
has become the most exciting
"revision" of: things to do when drinking...
2 hours of cramming
undisturbed rhetoric,
  and no dialectics in sight...
           a ******* brain-drain...
custard / fudge for thought...
          two seagulls regurgitating
food from the stomachs to feed their chicks...
i couldn't care about
these youtube political commentators...
i'm sorry...
    i can't give a ****...
     whoever is to blame,
i blame both sides...
                  "my" jukebox is ****** up!
the only recommendations
are what i've already seen!
   once it looked like:
           the thesaurus project...
in terms of the ontology of algorithms...
something synonymous was
always suggest...
  e.g.?
             the song helvegen
by the Nordic band wardruna
would be associated with
   the song federkleid
by a band faun...
               or the song lifa
by the band heilung...
             the ruck has only girl (in the world)
by rihanna have to do with
project thesaurus?!
or ke$ha's song die young?!
the internet media commentators
have...
   i've spent the past two hours...
equally zombie-prone like i might
watch the mainstream...
  the jukebox's ******!
          i can peruse the music scene like
i used to...
  clearly, in a classical music shop...
you wouldn't have a Britney Spears
record lodged in the punk category...
whatever they did...
  the current algorithm has
not categorical imperative...
              it's all jumbled up...
   pop sits alongside black metal...
jazz sits alongside classical music...
  rock is mingling with rap...
how did these people **** up
a formerly pristine algorithm?!
  that had the knowledge of a categorical
imperative...
   a hyena was a mammal,
a whale was an aquatic mammal...
a pig was a mammal...
              a spider was an insect,
    and a cod was a ******* fish...
the end...
      i've reached the critical sentiment
of, either a nihilist or a cynic that...
who gives a **** if you can speak
freely..
        hell... it's not even revelatory or
simply plain obvious what you're saying...
the ******* jukebox is down,
and you're partially to blame!
             what?! no cause: no effect?
   the algorithm has lost its knowledge of
proper coordination of categories...
these days...
    red is no longer a noun...
it's... a verb...
                     the current algorithm
is transgender...
you made a ******* transgender algorithm...
well done!
i need music to think,
    the current tirades of youtube commentary
make my brain turn into
fudge for about two hours...
after i snap out from the mantra...
free speech this... hate speech that...
what was once the only site to explore...
and subsequently buy the music...
this is the only reason i've succumbed
to the statement: the internet is dead...
well... because internet banking,
nor internet retail will not be affected...
working pristine...
             but the experience of finding
new music?
                that's affected...
and it's affected by youtube commentaries
antagonizing mainstream media...
sure, great...
    but the jukebox is ******...
      and because of that?
        i'll care, sure i'll care...
                  when a get to play
the xylophone on my rib-cage
with the embodiment of a ghost form...
on my post-decomposing skeleton!
having gained so little,
we've lost so much...
      what, a comment section on one of
these videos will, "somehow"
compete with my enjoying some decent
music?
         FAT CHANCE.
Gold May 2014
Ich habe Fernweh nach dem Ort an dem du gerade bist, und Heimweh nach dem Platz in deinem Herzen.
Ich liebe den Himmel, und ich wünschte ich wäre das Firmament über dir, egal ob hinter Wolken versteckt oder mit den Gestirnen geschmückt, denn dann würde ich dich immer sehen und immer bei dir seien.
Jedoch könnte ich dich nie berühren, von da oben.
Vielleicht wäre es besser, der Boden zu seien. Du legst dich in mein warmes Gras und atmest meinen Duft ein, nach einem Regenschauer, und würdest dabei lächeln. Aber als der Boden, würdest du mich je bemerken? Und wenn ja, würdest du nicht nur auf mich herabsehen?
Das würde ich nicht überleben, wir sind alle aus Sternenstaub, und besonders in der Liebe gleich.
Aber wenn du mir diese drei Worte ins Ohr flüsterst oder sie mir ins Gesicht schreist, dann ist es eh egal. Denn dann steht alles auf dem Kopf, am Himmel ist das Wasser der Meere und ich schwimme durch Wolken. Ich gehe über Federn, und das Federkleid der Vögel besteht aus Gras.
So ist es, zumindest in meinem Kopf, jedes Mal nachdem du mein Herz mit den Schmetterlingen, die du in meinem Bauch ausgesetzt hast, erschütterst hast.
I have a desire to travel to the place where you are right now and homesickness to the place in your heart.
I love the sky, and I wish I were the firmament above you, whether hidden behind clouds or adorned with stars, because then I could always see you and be with you.
However, I could never touch you, from there above.
Maybe it would be better to be the ground. You lay down in my warm grass and breathe in my scent after rain and smile. But as the ground, would you ever recognize me? And if yes, wouldn't you just look down on me?
I wouldn't survive that, we're all made from stardust, and especially equal when in love.
But when you whisper those three words in my ear or scream them in my face, than it doesn't matter anyway. Because then, everything is upside down, the sky is made of the water of the seas and I swim through clouds. I walk over feathers and the feathering of the birds is made of grass.
This is how it is, at least in my head, everytime after you roused my heart with the butterflies you set out in my stomach.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2018
i've written so little
with what
i've seen...
            faun's
              federkleid...
it's a torture
to have one's eyes
open....
          one does
the point of sight
being           a justice...
brimming with
          winking...
the casual
  conceptualisation
of grammar via
the exercise in narration;
or as i like to think
of it:
             a compensation...
"there", the apparent
   resurgence of "a" people...
it's hardly a matter
in copernican "terms"
regarding a: discretion
concise with "a" direction...
i still find german,
   as a language:
plagued with too many
    articulations of "directness"...
       might as well be
cross-eyed reading
this anti-anglo-saxon
                    crap...
        call for anglo-swabians?
   deaf ears...
            i love how
dasein translates phonetically
as: de-sign;
            or an approximate.
      i'm starting to think
the germans as being
agoraphobic...
        why?!
  they kept defining pointing
at something, existent
or non-existent,
        to remain: "in situ"...
  the the the: f f f,
  θ φ φ θ φ φ?!
       V point?
              veer?
           V point?
         how many *******
fingers do i need to point
at something?!
        index or: five?! D... ah...
   short-script of what would
otherwise become d(ee):
       d'eh point...
     makes sense to cite
          medieval english:
   fair 'ye well:
                  or is that, may you?
  schtern contra schtyrn...
         alias: sharp...
               ich said as isch...
    isch vill... villa: village...
       ******* ******;
you bring your toys,
i'll bring mine:
    knives, scissors, guillotines.
- a nation of thinkers...
more like a nation of:
                 ******* bashing.
i sat down at the end of the day
having spent it
tending to my garden:

so much emotion is in my stomach
i doubt that i even have
a heart

3.5 grams of marijuana can last
me about a month
and i'm wondering: where was i in my 20s
when i smoked so little
i hear
heavy smokers obliterated
by the discovery of the Stretch of Time
time non-linear not
history
i better: sink feel this:
send those emotions to my *****
my genitals:
kneel and speak with my ***: relax
my ***:

then i think sometimes
i imagine speaking through my ****
rather than my mouth
when i think i sometimes
imagine speaking through my ****
rather than my mouth
because i'm no politician rhetorician
and i'm getting the blues
afraid of myself:
why am i so stone so Sisyphus
why am i so nervy ******
playing an IDLE GAME

games were so different back in the day
of Mario Bros
now there are IDLE games...
you get fed adverts
your pocket sized DEEP BLUE
overheats
and then you have to start hacking
the phone
because there is apparently moisture
in the charging socket
but there isn't

because when you hit ON button
i smoked half a joint
tonight
and i want to write
so i also drank a whiskey...
or two...
no... best keep this Election Night
giggles under shades
i know who's going to win
when in Europe there is the Right
while in England it's: Conservatism
but random people
talked to me on the train about politics
and i was coming home
tired

but beside that: just reading habits:
who can spaghetti monster
and the custard clot Yellow King
of Hapsburg and Lovecraft
an Austrian monstrosity hanging
over the German people

bad habits: like really bad habits:
i have too much on my mind
that even summoning an *** for a mouth
will not do:
now i have three mouths in my head:
bleak Corinthian dynamic
oh jeez:
jazz? maybe:

                                Zukofsky's A
and when i heard that voice
bro: i was over-tell: myself that the silence:
oh those wind chimes bother
me why did we invent them
when not living on islands for most of the time
the voice bothered me
i'll finish the joint when i'll head
to bed:

the best anything is 1/3 bourbon and 2/3
whiskey
i created a mutant spirit: at 40% loading...

i'm scared of myself for not being a worldly man:
an ambitious man
a politician:

democracy is:
when in its infancy as an idea of governing people
by people
why so many loops and snakes and ladders?
i'm not an ambitious man
i have no world demands
although i'm sitting on wealth
and with that comes:
pips of cherries and trees in winter...
and *******: plenty of *******:

while Wimbledon is on
and the Euros
and the elections across Europe
and now England:
how many prime ministers?
elections are called in times of crisis
i saw Cameron, May, Sunak, Liz Trolley...
i saw Blair, Brown and... who?
ambitious men:
i am afraid of myself:
not being an ambitious man:

less but more Harold Norse contemplating
not being a male-man
(ha ha, politico automachine
spell edit, introductory
alliance with "woke" terminology:
old ****: geezer, gas baboon)
because not prone to violence
or appreciative of sports notably football
just mad about poetry

but mirage mirage:
what a combination on ***
and the trans train: of alphabets:

     LINDA DE SOUSA
    with / & WADE WILSON:

scary to think there are even people
there:
on the "other side" of tax collectors
and i've been with ******
and there are people there:

we're so dynamic in our dualism beside
the mind
that there are parallel lives being led
with parallel fates being fed
in the simplest of languages: by one: in one:

i had to escape: become schizophrenic-schizoid:
how?

i'm bilingual so...
backup banning floppy disks in Japan
(if you read the newspapers:
you'll know)
the 3"15            was that the t.n.t. detonative
ascribing ref.?

           i need to write in English but listen
to music in German:
notably folk: folklore bands
Faun: federkleid:

i just need to because otherwise
i can't stomach
the life of the one tongue
and this rabbit rabid ethnicity
based upon
nothing but the tongue:
or two:

now the flood
of memories: subtle:
when i laughed at my mother speaking
English over the telephone:
i was a terrible brat
but today i am old
and older and at least
she's not a language confrontation
of lackey: suite...

the bible and the quran can exist
and... whatever:
but i want to write a contender:
antitoxin...
or toxin:

ah the ambition awakes and i'm delusional
again with my lover...
tub tub... tub tub:
three little finger flickers
then her tasting herself
after i finger her and put my fingers
into her mouth...

but Heidegger became real:
schematics
of external security:
at Wembley: someone was flying
a renegade drone over the south
of the architecture:

FOOTPRINT? my ***...
charlie 1: olympic steps
charlies 2: oh jeez... never heard of
positions 2, 3, 4...
charlies 5: Atlantic Way
Charlies 6: north east staircase
Charlies 7: south east staircase
charlie 8: south east ramp
charlie 9 and charlies 10: gate 3
(with quadrant Romeo)
usually Frenchie: endearing?

charlie 11: zig-zag alley
charlie 12: Spanish steps:

da-sein: concern:

Om om: the Mongol? began winking at me:
did i look panicked?
pan-caked:
i thought i was going to enjoy
ACDC
when they came on: i did:

apparently i was working outside
and i heard the better acoustics
and i almost played my guitar the last
time i was bringing
salt and sugar and toilet paper from
the attics:
i once upon a time wanted
but was not fated with either guitar
or chemistry as supplier
of bogus narcotics and to alleviate
the softness of this world
while the primitive aspects were
concerned: of no concern...

                 but i didn't: one handshake
i wonder what that is in Katakana:
handshake...
ooh! no Cambridge Dictionary hyphen
assertion:
it only took Charlie 6 not note to
CONTROL:
medical emergency:
possible concussion
head split open
falling over traffic barriers
metal to calcium
infestation with iron: this calcium

what? call an ambulance?
am i the ******* patron Saint of the Hospitaller
or something?
the Wembley footprint?
judge of what? character?
the guy is bleeding like a monk:
tonsure...
the natural bird-line of his nesting hair:
call an ambulance?!

two quadrants showed up
*******:
three charlie call signs
then the External Manager:
LIMA ECHO...
how the **** was i supposed
to call an ambulance:
hell's bells was playing
in the background:
sure, i was at the ac/dc gig:
got two t-shirts:
for me and my father
but i was working:
getting paid for X
but not getting paid for
reinvigorating the reinterpretation
of Heidegger's Dasein...

not the ambitious man:
i "forgot" to text my availability to Lyndon:
***** Scouser: yar...
and i forgot to text back my lover
and that's just that:
if poetry:
well democracy works when you
have individuals like Damocles
and the swords of Saddam Hussein:

work... but when you have
democracy contra democracy:
people are not infringing on your way
in living:
today i was visited by a Conservative
minion campaigner
and there my ambition stumbled
and i became this
devilish little man
of little things
and that was just fine:
since god is not c.c.t.v.

              demonic in flavor or anything
more than the 1
in the eternal decimal pointer:
UNDIVISIBLE:
UNDIVISABLE:

   1
       not: rather: 0.111111111111111...

1/9:             there are NINE: nein?
NINE HORSES OF THE APOCALYPSE:
five are missing:

             boredom!
                  madness!
          technology!

i found at least 3: got kicked in the head
by a white horse in the moonlight: almost...

            PEACE!             that's four: the horse
of peace: peace is like a war:

         conquest?         contra the mortal quest?
from the Vatican:
what 7 deadly sins?
  how about the 8 realistic horses?

conquest i will do like the synoptic
readers did unto
the apocryphal readers:
i will: turn: the other cheek..

   you savvy: drop drool and lip
blossom: no? maybe spring in New York
and in central park...

the horses are running:
War Rower
             Peace Pacifier
  Famine Fetishes of Fat
Death the Central (Power)
Boredom and Brew Dogs

how many horses? i need a chariot:
no carriage: just two archers...
5...                      3 more?
borrowed from the classical
sense of geometry
Greco:HYMAN:HYMN
ITALICS:WOMEN:He:did':brew:'t

          HALF-DEATH: horses of dementia:
needle? thread: extension of grass?
so much *** of glitter... no?

      horse of TECHNOLOGY:
the Solipsist: the St. Augustine
with his Soliloquy: once: Soliloquies
like the injustices performed
upon Sisyphus by the gods:
while... the Titans were helpers:

Prometheus: and the un-ambitious man...
like: moi...

              have i covered more: not expected?
just the barrage of typo
and type: dot dot dot
while i watch a book burn unlike
a cross in the Chatter
Club Capitalism: wavering:
unsure where is Left Copernican
and Right Copernican:
north and summer
south and autumn
winter and east
and spring west:

                not sure: feel: disorientated...
slightly...
     almost got kicked in the head by a horse
but i was stupid enough to walk
in the woods
while angry at the blinding darkness
i had no ego for light-bulb
but instead overheard:
i will not be a **** enthusiast
i heard SATAN I N EXCELSIS...

                i must be a good enemy of man
if i am also the best friend of man:
however many times:
i try not to be one.
perhaps that's how it came to be:
to thus become:
learning how to pet animals:
minimizing talking to pets
like minimizing talking to lovers
during ***...
i make fun of my cats
automating onto onomatopoeia(s)
while they pretend to want to talk...

oh but i know animals can
talk the talk of humans:
i overheard my cat Oscar Darshan
tell me outright:
(ty) JABEŁ...

                i don't need to raise
children: people disbelieved me
i went to psychiatrists
*******
and your white powder SODA brain
freeze: powder! ambitious
sexed up men of grey: and suits!

          women can have children
and hear them speak all they want
but life for man?
when he hears a petted animal speak?
sorry:
aversions to your **** and
providing bus drivers and doctors:
i have mystique:
and my testosterone:

wasn't the fox at the Greenwich:
yeah: the hustler:
enough proof?
doubting Thomas you too?! not so much
a Peter?! Edie?

— The End —