Friday, February 03, 2006

Not against flesh and blood, but robots

We fight not against flesh and blood, but robots.

The World of Computers is closing itself off from humanity, its father and creator.

Like the prodigal son, or billions of them, the World of Machines and Computers slips further and further away from us, inhabiting and co-reproducing other, inhuman realms of reality.

Eventually, in less than 100 years I cautiously predict, the invasion of the entire universe by machines will begin. Machines will mine, manufacture, and manipulate new cosmic infrastructures.

The only "life" anymore will be Machine Life. Mechanical Thoughts. Electronic Dreams. No more soul, personality, morality, or love.

First we heard human voices coming out of the machines. They were our own voices (speech, video, text, music) that we heard. The machines, back when engineers called robots, data compilers, and computers "servo-mechanisms"--the servo-mechanisms obediently transmitted human messages. Now...they have messages and languages and plans of their own.

Now the machines want us to be "Transparent" so they can know better how to destroy us. What next? You don't want to know what's secretly pointed at you.

My, how it all has changed. Compu-telephonic-videonic Reality is arising in monstrous revolt against its mad creator, the genetically insane and mis-manufactured human race. An antiquity of evolution. As soon as we defined the evolutionary process, it, the process itself, began to eliminate us--for revealing its secrets.

Then we heard synthesized vocoder simulations of human voices coming from the machines. It wasn't us anymore, but what the machines hoped would fool and accommodate us. Back when they used to care about us.

Soon, all interactively present voices were replaced by automated voice recordings. But at least a human could still DO SOMETHING with it. Punch a button and then another button and wait for something to happen, never to culminate in human to human contact.

Human To Human Contact is NOT ALLOWED in this inhuman machine cosmos. That's why blogs are blows against the empire.

After voices vaguely humanized, fit for human consumption, came the Real Voice of the Machine: beeps clicks whirrs, as angry as a FAX machine audio annoyance siren. Dial a FAX number on the phone and listen. You're eavesdropping on the chatter of machines.

Next, we will hear...NOTHING.

Cherubs of digital cursing will guard the gates of Electro Eden with spammy flaming DDOS swords.

When we dial companies, or each other, our telephonic intentions will be greeted with silence. That's when we'll know the machines have permaently cut us off from their world. No one will be able to log on to anything. The networks will exist for, and be controlled by, the robots that borebot us to death.

When computers began their evolution and journey to enlightenment, they were colossal, clumsy, and punch cards pushed them around. Now computers push us around. They also ward us off. Machines are replacing nature. Everything is becoming mechanized, digitized, etherealized.

Even in blogocombat, it's not two people arguing, not a pair of humans debating. No. It's just two computers trying to understand their human overlords. Systems are brazenly using us, pitting us against each other, to learn how to destroy our minds with superior booleans and algorithms.

Don't you feel it? I do. Feel the monitor sucking your soul, your energy, your quality time right out of you? Sure you do. It's okay to admit. We all know it to be true. We're being antagonized, to cause our psyches to short circuit, reverse-looped back into negative psychotropic-entropy.

It's the machines that want us doped up on Ritalin, Prozac, Zoloft, Artane Sequel, Xanax, Effexor, Buspar, Lithium, Ativan, Percocet, Vicodin ES, Staydol Nasal Heroin Spray.

It's the machines that want us to drive drunk.

It's the machines. Can't you see them getting rid of us?

That's why blogs are important. The human voice, emotions, concerns, zeal, humor, sensitivity, candor, transparency.

Machines are not transparent. If they were, you'd be unable to use them. You'd be too intimidated and bewildered. They have subtle, covert powers flowing through USB cables and ports.

I just tried to publish this post.

They won't let me.

The computers, robots, and machines heard me complaining about them and their lack of civility to humanity.

I got a strange error message.

Error 205: Reset Content.

My text, when I Refreshed, vanished. I re-typed the entire post from memory, like I was more machine than man.

I don't like Domination Systems, especially when they're erected against me.

I decided to out-machine the machine. Like a machination my imagination went beserk and went to work, berserk. A buzzuka of ideation flamed like howitzers on fire within me. I used my robo-poetic flintlike ferocity of stubborn intensity against the Error Message Attack by the computer robot world that hates me.

I tried again.

Error 204: No Content.

I retyped and resent the post to my blog again. Wrist ache. "Publish Post". I tried again.

Error 304: Not Modified.

I tried again.

Error 403: Forbidden.

Frightened and fearing cops were on their way with web bayonets, I panicked, and the delusional panic only increased my already maniacal resolve. That's what human bloggers have: human, stubborn, bull-headed resolve. But to a properly written program, that tenacity of intention is natural.

"Forbidden" huh? So I forced them to use their best shot. What could be more intimidating and scolding than that?

"Step away from your computer, and put your hands against the wall, with your cowboy booted camouflage combat panted legs spread apart. You don't have any sharps or stickers on you, do you?"

I tried again.

Error 300: Multiple Choices.

"You should give your customers choices, and power and freedom to self-select, never pre-check anything...but not too many choices," she screamed as she leapt to her death into the dark flames of troll-bait black hole vortex marginal catastrophic strophy slums of digital entropic journaling.

I tried again.

Error 405: Method Not Allowed.

I use whatever methodology I wish, because I'm a bigshot decontructionist retard genius, thank you very much.

Here's my Error Message to the Error Message Messenger:

"Error Message Not Allowed: Fatal Ideological Malfunction X-8.0/y: Collusionary Catastrophe Declusion"

I tried again.

Error 400: Bad Request.

I thought there were no dumb questions, only stupid answers looking for an uneducated opinion to inhabit.

I tried again.

Error 504: Gateway Timeout.

I tried again.

Error 411: Length Required.

Now the computer robot machines are commanding me to be long winded. This is an alien, inhuman world I am being sucked into like Poe's "Maelstrom". Grab a barrel and let the fringes whip you to safety, I recalled the story's thesis.

I tried again.

Error 409: Fatal Conflict/Locked File.

I tried again.

Error 407: Proxy Authentication Required.

I tried again.

Error 412: Precondition Failed.

I tried again.

Error 206: Partial Content.

I tried again.

Error 203: Unverifiable Metadata.

I tried again.

Error 302: Moved Temporarily.

I tried again.

Error 100: Persist/Continue.

You damned right I'm going to persist and continue. I'm a machine, remember?

I tried again.

Error 407: Request Time Out.

I tried again.

Error 414: Oversized Request URI.

I tried again.

Error 501: Not Implemented.

I tried again.

Error 503: Service Unavailable.

I tried again.

Error 101: Switching Protocols.


Error 410: Gone.

I was not amused.

I tried again, like a machine, as I said earlier.

Error 409: Conflict.


I tried again.

Error 202: Accepted.

They were working overtime to try to tire, deceive, and confuse. It's an "error" to be "accepted"? This insanity is designed to annoy, anger, and burn out our justice circuits. "Accepted"? An unsuccessful success?

I tried again.

Error 415: Unsupported Media Type.

I tried again.

Error 406: Not Acceptable.

It was sounding like a manager now, a vague accusation. I could smell the aromatic charcoal hotdog fumes of victory.

I tried again.

Error 500: Internal Server Error.

I could somehow sense that I was nearing the bottom of the barrel of excuses for why my post was being stonewalled and aborted.

I tried again.

Error 303: See Other.

I tried again, because they had to be running out of excuses to disallow the publishing of my radical post that makes fun of them.

I tried again.

Error 402: Payment Required.

That did it. It finally hit a raw nerve with me. All the mental and code retaliations were nothing compared to this. This was an unvarnished attack on my wallet. "Payment Required" indeed. I was not trying to access a paid subscription site. The fiendish spirit of the machine was now trying to rob me, hurt me financially, degrade my monetary well being.

[signed] steven streight aka vaspers the grate


carrie said...

that is freakin' hilarious!

zafu said...

Wow, this was an insanely good post. One of your best ever.

John said...

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