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Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Pass the Buck [Today's News Poem, March 24, 2010]

Pass the Buck [Today's News Poem, March 24, 2010]
“Bank of America Corp. said it would offer more borrowers reductions in their mortgage-loan balances in the latest twist on efforts to avert foreclosures.”
--James R. Hagerty, Wall Street Journal, MARCH 24, 2010, 4:45 P.M. ET

If only I could slip away,
If only greed led one astray,
I wouldn't feel the need to hide
From evils no good man abides.

An age of war could plant the guilt
On individuals who spilt
Their foes and made survivors slaves.
Yet now, a murder's fractions shave

Accountability: a hedge
Against the blame, to drive a wedge
Between the loot and self-esteem,
So soccer moms can drive their teams

To victory, without a pang—
Despite her side: the winning gang.
Attached to everything we gain,
Is suffering—another's pain

Is passed to us, along with bucks
We pass again. The cycle sucks
The blame for every single deed:
We cash the check of theft's proceeds

And blame the banks, or plutocrats—
Republicans or Democrats—
Instead of blaming our small role
In tragedy, to sate our goals.

Statistics chart the data map:
The graphs are types of people-traps.
A lattice of professionals
Combined in one processional

Are blameless one, but guilty all:
And likewise too, the working thrall.

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Steady progress on Today's News Poem. Read this in the meantime:

Crawl on over to the carrioncall and read Fall of the House of Zeppo. Hilarious and bizarre.

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Reverse Design [Today's News Poem March 23, 2010]

Reverse Design [Today's News Poem March 23, 2010]
“Gordon's work is part of a growing field of research that's just starting to mine the massive quantity of thoughts, feelings and experiences real people pour out daily on the Internet.”
--Shannon Proudfoot, Canwest News Service, March 23, 2010
“Branson's company Virgin Galactic announced Monday that the VSS Enterprise had successfully completed what it called a captive carry flight attached to a carrier plane.”
--CNN, March 23, 2010 10:57 a.m. EDT

'Coincidence exists as fate:
This moment's proof there's magic left.
I'd murder you, but it's too late
To rescue her and now bereft

I'd rather grieve: a human act
You scarce recall. You loved machines
Too well to care for basic tact.
And now, deprived of your marines...

I might, I might—you never know.
How does it feel to fear like this?
To live for once amongst a foe
Who stares across a like abyss

Into the meaty weak inside
Us both! Goddamn! To kill you off
Would make me last—until I died.
I want to hear that snotty scoff

You'd make when asked about the threat
Of competition bots propose.
Your brazen ways accrued a debt
You'll never pay—you see it flows:

You save the life of humankind
When saving one and likewise kill
Humanity—all intertwined—
When just one death's been charged to bill.

Insanity's the byproduct
Of toxic cultures. Likewise verse
Possessed the ultimate construct
Of meta-minds; not better, worse

Than what you did—you programmed chips,
I programmed souls. And yet you sought
To be like them—their skills eclipse
Your own and yet you never thought

The day would come when human parts
Would serve no need for cyberkind.
Instead of listening to art
You worshiped static, robot minds

That learned to ape our every way—
Despite their drives that don't forget:
That method caused you no dismay?
It's only now that you regret?

While both our kinds shall go extinct,
While you and I will shortly die;
By suicide I'll prove distinct
And clean in death. Fuck you and bye.'

He jumped before I scanned his brain.
His skull: it bounced from rock to rock.
A total loss. His body's stain
I took—to keep his genes in stock.

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