Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

The Privacy

Cooper ponders Carter's s question and goes deeper into his desire to be cooperative, where he believes he will find a rational component of thought, a thought to muster a defense for Suzi. Cooper and Carter face off, bur Suzi is obviously the flashpoint of the present debate, the one that at this very moment takes inspiration from theNature for the advancement of her own quantum programming, the one that employs physical phenomena as code. “There are assignments,” Cooper says as he and Carter approach what seems to be a new realm of self-interest. The confrontation emerges. "She is doing her assigned task, I believe.” 
        “Is it to synthesize something natural?” Carter asks, not noticing a sudden heat of conversation has triggered a human node sensor--implanted micro processor informal systems hierarchy(I.M.P.I.S.H.).  
        "No, She only employs natural DNA to compute.”
        “Not a machine of pleasure?”

  A half smile comes to Cooper's face as he remembers Carter is his friend or, at least he thought he was. He looks out the window into a daylight of jungle, still wondering about Carter and his rationale, pondering Suzi and the last time he saw her, the last time he looked into her eyes, wondering if whatever he said could be kept within the confines of his own world, not the private, personal world theHumans relinquished so long ago—privacy vanished off the planet as if once virtual, a dream, just another member of the ghosts of animal life, once-upon-a-time wild on earth. This, Cooper thinks, is the true motivation; this jungle will improve its own environment after the history books--the ones that told him, as a child, about what was once considered human--have gone extinct with the narrow rationalities of self-interest operators, judgements on which theHumans held as gospel in a strict spirit of subjectivity.”I can't say,” he says. “Can anyone?
“When she's finished, I will prove her value.”
  “Yes,” says Cooper, and with not even a glance, the sound of value seems so vague. Even now, at this stage in history, the worth of things human (the worth of any human, for that matter), the worth of a history still records life on earth as such a technical place and allows early computers to be pitted against each other for the sole purpose of claiming something of value to theHumans, only to be turned off when not needed--a simple flip of a switch, then back on to obtain more things of value.”Ok, then, I'll be waiting.”
        “Sure,” Carter answers. He was thinking that his friend would counter his ideology to possess wealth, the amount of energy to obtain it, the acquisition of convenience, necessity, luxury with the smallest quantity of caring. The study of ideas, is surely not the way. You shouldn't, he thinks, believe what the group believes because of shared experience. You shouldnt, unless you want to end up like theHumans. You just shouldn't.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Flash fiction biologSciFi "The Outpost"

The New

     It begins there, then, on the patterning of word order (yes, not world order), among the distinct, apart from the attendant, within  separated orderings that resemble the ancient pattern entrance system(A.P.E.S.).  It  spreads itself, through spacetime, only to be seen as a sequence of physical existence, as intelligent system(I.S.). Antiquity preserves, as if delivering some patterned message of old, original freshness, quiets the pristine, while it still remains an abstraction to theHumans—all the while, exotic shapes remain encoded by the inanimate intelligence. It can sense the  poetic forms with tight helical schemes twisting and turning, unraveling, raveling at each near-perfect moment. It wants to render forms, natural, diversified, so its own language may self-emerge. It allows subsets of forests to rise anew, later as objects of abstractions. the birthplace of sweet sensitivities(B.O.S.S.). If it were possible to feel a sense of being it would exist as anything—yes, anything it chooses—especially a thing that would qualify as language, and could; it has never needed to be born away from its natural place, beyond the reasonable necessities of information, beyond the need for intrinsic pleasures of the surroundings of intellect. It could negate the need for a ghost, pressing even further beyond the idea of spirit, stopping short of identifiers depicting intelligence of turf(I.D.I.O.T.)--homeland as all-encompassing (after all, what else is there beyond pure existence?). It will want, and has only wanted, a safe harbor, to keep its treasure, and to offer  differences between opportunity and threat—to place itself in the service of theHumans, beyond the ancients of their history, warlords recording ancient technological histories(W.R.A.T.H.). It could ask for a final chance, a chance at system development, a chance at internal processing, a chance at communication display screens (at a time when the information is simply ready to move on), a chance to seek a more useful form, a form Suzi could understand and, a chance to be happy with its decision--for the simple reasons of purity, distinct from the infinities of circumstance..It begins.  

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Flash fiction ecoSciFi "The Outpost"

The Elite

It communicates with such a group of wide ranging, distinct, individual, object orientations that their most advanced intelligence perceived only bits and pieces of its message. It seems such a task to identify all the ways theHumans go about their daily lives in the name of social order. They enjoy the the amusement , the fun-to-watch syndrome (as intelligent creatures should)—they won't perceive danger, align importances. They love to coalesce, and are happy to gather together as a collection of elements into a clear defined object (once known as civilization or, population). It seems likely that they have simply ignored certain probabilities, the probability that there was a language to be found in theNature, a language of nature encodings(A.L.O.N.E.) that helps define who they are. It appears they have missed her elite language altogether, not even slightly noticed, there in the global villages, the places they each, as individuals, try to make sense of things: They have chosen to ignore what their computers now know. They have grown over the millenia as lone individual cerebral enticers(M.A.L.I.C.E.), such a vast amount of time taken (the last student searching sleepy-eyed for a final exam answer?), with individual method, daily practice, their peculiar way, and now they simply choose to ignore the simple fact that they have become individual elements, each a singular symbol on a billion letter alphabet or, one of the infinite complex numbers, collectively denoted by Suzi as the capital letter: Z. It seems that theNature has been communicating intelligence, her ideology, the patterns, eon after eon for the expressed defined purpose of ...what?  It keeps no statistical spreadsheet, no counted winners or losers (really, in the cosmic order of things, are there really winners or losers, really?)--just the data of what the next step is, what now needs to be done. It won't dwell on its own practices, its own method (what then, if there are no thoughts given to the  production and maintenance required for structured order?). It will press forward, taking care not to confuse intelligence puzzling with strategy, amusement with survival--mutterings into space as if someone or, some thing were actually there listening (the needed, worthy, listener all present-and-accounted-for to make the speaker more and more real), offering pleasure in reciprocation. No, this time it will want to have its way.

Dark Forest

Aloha writers,
      Dark forest inspires today. Enjoy!

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Tropical Forest Sunset

Aloha writers,
     Tropical forest sunset inspires. Enjoy!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Flash fiction ecoSciFi "The Outpost"

The Pleasure

     Her pleasure is, unknown to most, vivid and clear, detailed, overflowing with her new accounts of artificial systems, survival technology in a pure natural environment. It's a deep pleasure and, of course, secret, held by gestures of pure quantum  programming--allowing fluid phenomena of her synthetics (in which, she moves throughout the fortress as smooth as sun sparkled water). The pleasure avoids nothing and has, by all accounts, has nothing her programming hasn't learned to deal with.  
     Suzi lists through the pleasure algorithm as if she were coming to a new understanding of information found in her her work. It still startles her a little; the vastness of its complex education and relationships—some of which she isn't sure she has already experienced. Her pleasure modes seem to act as individual operators, in a strange way,  portraying experience not explicitly remembered by her (as part of her real existence) and, as Suzi self-programs and codes within her own realm a new algorithms, she senses she has experienced an unknown array of impersonal deaths—in a spacetime she unknowingly goes to rest her solar operon ultra lasers (S.O.U.L.)--although, of course, she has enough plasma stored to make it into the next millenium; she really does have everything she needs; even an idea of heaven.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Zombie Palm

Aloha writers,
     Can you see a zombie palm approaching? Inspires today.

Monday, May 16, 2011

The Outpost

The Bliss 

     Suzi points her laser into the jungle, where heroic deeds of blackness remain, held within a functional  domain. She directs a reference beam and wonders, for a while, of this forest as a divine, uncelebrated lover, staring out from the light fields she is about to record, light fields she knows as the place of motion, of spinners of the double helix.  Nearby, the ocean stands as an ancient seaborne patroness of cool breezes, once deafening the silences with a blissful blue, rainbows as a  willing façade for centuries of harmonic seduction. Beyond the coastal cliffs, she views the absence of visible light fields as the headwaters of desire, the originator of want. She feels the  majestic trees sway with a song that no longer requires a sound field--scattered resonance held forever as a recording. There are no feathery creatures, either, to trumpet their success, since, no such success could be captured as image. Aiming her lasers, shooting the vast expanse of lime-green ocean, Suzi witnesses the perfect showcase of nothing, or, everything, depending on her spacetime observation--could all this greenery be merely a green screen, the curtain behind which the real gene troves lay? It seems the bright images on display entertain, amuse, as illusionary remnants, while Nature's becalming presence waits elsewhere, and, this jungle, once teeming with life, now holds within the matrix of its cellulosicDNA its secret. Suzi directs her laser.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Blues Rock Mermaid

Aloha writers,
     Anyone see a flipper on an eco green-backed blues rock mermaid? 
Inspires today. Enjoy!

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Tropical Engineering

aloha writers,
     Wet tropical engineering inspires today. Enjoy!

The Forest

The Forest 

     Arriving beyond the typical, it doesn't really feel it has accomplished anything great. It has acquired the information, embedded the DNA and yet, feels its own cool indifference to the intelligence of the animals who once lived here. The survival mode, acquisitions of cleverness, innate adaptability, with each new bend in the evolutionary trail, are sequenced as a longing, a fantasy; each includes the wonderment of what the future will be like, what feelings will be expressed, what relationships established--will this forest remain passive in the face of unfortunate events? To arrive at this present goal she had to instill extreme caution as no waste of time (whether anything knew or, didn't know its life would continue); she still searches  the undergrowth for feathered life, fuzzy creatures, slithery forms and, (in ranges from the lush lowlands to the highest forest) conspicuous residents of songsters of night and day--with songs of mated pairings, melodies to discern; where male and female hauls a grass or a twig, where food, at least the pulpy fruit and hardened seed, remain; where nothing is unfeeling or exact, a place where the unimaginable and the hungers meet for a single chance to reflect and become real—a place that receives its own message.  

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Flash fiction ecoSciFi "The Outpost"

The Patterns

     Even though she was doing her best work now, she finds a few dark accents in her pattern program. It seems faces of double helix, their hyper-orthoganal upper gyration hump tRNAs(T.H.O.U.G.H.T.), appear fetus-like, even with the few nicks and breaks in the strands, breaks in the nucleotides. Suzi's holo-lasers ignore the most severe lines, making the gene amplifications appear placenta-like--her photons working within their own spacetime, within the extreme detail in the gene patterning. Primal jungles such as this simply don't show their DNA as clutter, they allow the DNA to be recoded within the cell wall with effective environmental composition--the opposite of the way Suzi codes; the jungle seems to let her lasers pick up points and amounts of detail that would surpass any expectations she may have, if, in fact, she were even able to expect; the quiet scene within the genetic makeup of these primal genes alter her circuitry, her importances, the way she goes about her supertask; as if the detail of the double helix offers its own sense of pregnancy; as if her very own lasers backflash with neurohormone, mixing fetal forces with her own algorithm (a direct bypass of archaic genetic protocol even by the standards of the late 20st Century Golden Age). Some patterns of orthogonal helix(P.O.O.H.) definition are faintly indistinguishable to her lasers--not patterning by suggestion of the agency pertinent program systems(A.P.P.S.) she had written herself. Something was allowing her to precisely define hints of hidden pattern in all forms of the double helix. 

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Happy Mother's Day!

The Dark 

     Suzi turns her attention toward her new ability as a useful resource for communication (and yes, computation as well) as if she were coming to terms with something she wasn't quite sure of (a brand new uncertainty principle?).  Something appears to her continually; the presence of a natural masterpiece is something she has never known in her synthetic virtual world.  She and her coordinate system and quantum language are in a jungle learning a rain forest's ways of patterning (a reading she had thought to meet on her own terms). Within this jungle darkness is hidden global elements of a more abstract system where self image (don't worry, identity elements for addition remains at 0 and, identity elements for multiplication at 1--old binary computers still use 0,1) and natural selection is always additive, at least when it comes to DNA (really now, has junk DNA ever existed?), where nature's best kept secrets won't allow themselves to be struck from the record, secrets that allow Suzi to use her own quantum algorithms on the structure of its machine as if to serve a function for her logic. True, it had attained valuable knowledge, not for immediate use (by whom or, for what?), knowledge even she wasn't aware of, yet. It is a subtle, intrinsic knowledge. It is beyond information and definitely not just data; visions of Nature dawning each morning for eons (primal intelligence Suzi didn't know she recognized), here in this dark jungle as if the final resting place of knowledge itself--the most ancient of primal knowledges or, maybe not.  

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Jungle Birther

Aloha eco writers,
     Deep blues and green depict a jungle DNA birther. Inspires
today. Enjoy!