• Archives for June 2018 (4)

Over[-]hea[r]d Gnomes

“Twins! I can’t tell them apart!”
“Left is holding Right’s right[-]hand, but Right is holding Left’s wrong, remaining, left hand. Do you see?”
“I hate you. And… you know, I’m sensitive about my vision.”


Over[-]hea[r]d Gnomes:
“Twins! I can’t tell them apart!”
“Left is holding Right’s right[-]hand, but Right is holding Left’s wrong, remaining, left hand. Do you see?”
“My eyes(I’s) are wide open, and at least one a-hole is clearly visible.”

Gnomish Proverb

The written world is black and white, an inside-out recording of an imagined adventure, a kaleidoscopic, so to say, carved by inverse words. Reviewing the work may induce euphoria, and/or crippling fear; read with care. -Ogledosh Crackey on The Art of Cowardice

Gnomish Gurgle

Okay, okay, I need to let up on the smileys. I know. I should, maybe, I don’t know, use my words? What with the authoring and all? Well, mayyyyyy-be. But. I think. The smiley is a little reminder along the way: I’m a jackass first, and an author second – or third? – which critically, affects/infects all my interactions. Like a Donkey braying at the moon, if you put a thousand together and listen long enough you might hear Shakespeare at one point, but, and this is most important: at the end of the day, you’ve still got a thousand donkeys that can’t do much more than bray at the moon, eat, and shit. Now, Donkey is a far cry farther from Monkey than the words would imply – like we name all creatures: letter-of-the-alphabet-onkey, or something? – but still, I don’t want a thousand of them.
This is what I’m saying.
Also, the whole idea is interestingly analogous to the current status of artificial intelligence that everyone touts so highly today: we found a way to expedite monkey selection so that Shakespeare appears sooner, and we all look at each other and celebrate, and call that intelligence, but the reality is that better monkey selection ain’t the same as better monkeys. They’re different. And my hunch is that the usefulness of one of those wears out before the other, and the benefit notwithstanding, the cost is something to the tune of a thousand -onkeys. Anyway, think of it like this, AI today is shopping around a bizarre for bags of a thousand animals to do work for us, and the vendors are all shouting about the speed and efficiency of their monkeys, and that, over generations, the monkeys get faster and better at solving the problems they work on; they’re lying. Sure, the results arrive sooner, but the monkeys themselves aren’t any smarter, and ultimately, despite the exceptional moment of Shakespeare, they mainly eat, fuck, and shit, and occasionally throw shit, and that’s about it. We won’t have anything close to intelligence until our approach to AI results in the monkeys asking us why we care so much about Shakespeare.
Fuck novelty, perception, and lies, these foundational tropes of society, politics, and progress; when can we handle the truth?
In the meantime, I think I’m going to continue to use smileys.

Gnomes Running Waters

Inspector: This is the story of the Earth, right now? A planet that cannot successfully deliver a fundamental resource of life all its inhabitants. The peak of civilization, and the result is that, ‘they just can’t get along?’ are you fucking kidding me? Who’s in charge here?

Gnomes Over[-]hea[r]d:

Drily Macab: what do you mean, they don’t yet have water?

Glad be Urve: right now?

Drily: don’t do that. You know exactly what I mean, don’t be temporally anal. Who’s in charge?

Glad: temporarily?

Drily: you won’t be ‘glad’ much longer…

Glad: sorry. In charge? Right now? No one, really.

Drily: a committee, then? Who leads the committee?

Glad: no. I mean, there was one brilliant human in charge for a bit, but the seat turned over, and now, some kind of troll rules.

Drily: is the troll at least actively working on the water problem?

Glad: he’s actively working on a cheeseburger, or, something not water, anyway.

Drily: how much time have they had?

Glad: more than ten thousand revolutions.

Drily: more than ten? And the most active organism doesn’t even have a fully functional water system?

Glad: they’ve had a rough go of it.

Drily: says here: Earth. Blue planet.

Glad: true true, but their strength is will-power driven by desire: even with abundant resources, several thought, and sought, to own it all for themselves.

Drily: you’re telling me, after more than ten thousand years of a prominent, dominant organism overseeing a blue planet, water does not run to all constituent life because they don’t… get along?

Glad: yes. Er, yes, more or less. Yep.

Drily: shut it down.

Glad: but wait! Some have water.

Drily: and a troll’s steering the ship?

Glad: I wouldn’t say that exactly, but he is standing neeeear the helm. (No button, by the way! so, they’ve got that going for them.)

Drily: I’m supposed to be impressed they don’t have a single point of failure exposed to destroy themselves?

Glad: yes? It is a big positive. I told you the leader is a troll, right?

Drily: now.

Glad: yes. Right now.

Drily: no. Now. Shut it down. Now.

Glad: right.

Drily: now.

Glad: right.

Drily: stop it.

Glad: now?

Drily: …

Glad: I just don’t think that will help. Let’s allow it to play itself out; it’s not like they’re getting off the planet at this rate!

Drily: fine. But if they contaminate another sector, it’s on you — next!

Glad: next what? I’m g[G]lad[,] we’re just gnomes.

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