Thursday, October 27, 2011

Army (draft)

The Morning’s black armour is well-oiled,
And He encroaches silently.

The gloom of dreams remains uncongealed,
Held at bay with idle browses

Through the rooms of many houses.
They come, shaking in triumph

Their long grey hair. They come
By my hands which halt the binding flame

Which for me would signal sleep.

See Joyce's 'I Hear an Army'

Ideas for Code Poems

[to be written as a program in a high-level language, and displayed in descending order with its translation into increasingly lower levels until the poem is represented in binary form]

reduce me to ashes

OR.....something like (pseudocode follows)

Print “entropic heat

Print “reduce me to ashes”

here the descent is implied, and actually ends in the waste heat from the voltage jumps, which are the ultimate low-level translation of any computer code

title: degradation to pidgin

convert to leetspeak poem exactly 140 char for tweet
It may be contaminated, jargonized, disrupted language, but it is not a new language, not (yet) evidence for the invasion of an empire of machinic colonizers whose demands of trade and interaction require the creation of a pidgin by economically and linguistically disempowered human users.

!7 m4 8 (n7mn7d, j29n1zd, dsrupted lngu4g, but 1t 1s not 4 nu l4ngu4g, not (yet) evdence 4 d4 1nv4sn of 4 mpire of m4chinic colonizrs whos dm4nds of tr8d n intr4ctn rqire d4 cre4tn of 4 p!j1n by ecnm1cly n lngu!stcly d!smpwrd hmn usrs