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Category Archives: SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation

MATTER OF FACT

17 Thursday Dec 2020

Posted by drdamiang in Alien, art, Creation, Creativity, metapoetic/metafictional, philosophical, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Alien, art, metapoetic, philosophical, poem, poetry, simulation, Stars

MATTER OF FACT

what if
we are all
just alien
artifact?

run
from
research and development
to production line?

no art to speak of
just a pieces kit you
rivet and fix
by numbers paint
colours of
(an oxygen atmosphere)
rainbow

praise be intelligence
for thanks to this
got other
models and myths
I’d rather
cling to

even when
I stalk a poem, circling
the house at night

the stars laughing in concert
in
their
constellations
as I
miss the point

become the embodiment
of
our
base assumption
that there is
thing called
self, things
called
soul
and mind

clunkiest of all
our most arrogant
rationalizations

AGAIN AND AGAIN

17 Tuesday Nov 2020

Posted by drdamiang in Creation, Creativity, death, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Uncategorized

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Tags

Creation, philosophical, poem, poetry

AGAIN AND AGAIN

I love that conceit
“going to meet my maker”

what the Hell
could it possibly mean?

and
how should I there
deport myself

(whatever there
in that context does mean?)

should I be
fuzzy warm and sentimental- grateful?
or go
full Frankenstein’s monster for giving
me such an inadequate script?

finding myself
in the programmer’s tea room
far into the future
where someone wrote the code
that gave me life
bastard for trapping me
in that simulation

where
I lived and suffered, make
mistake after mistake, lost
my one true-
love (such a
badly-written cliche)
again and again
again and again

why am I not now
sitting on a park bench conversing
with Nietzsche
discussing eternal recurrence as
you reboot and reload?

Or maybe it’s got to be
scene with Monoloth as in Kubrick’s classic
as the star gate opens and I’m
left in a room with
elegant styling, fluorescent lighting

testimony (Renaissance paintings on the wall)
how far I have come
mainly as a species, less as individual man.

SIMULATION

20 Tuesday Oct 2020

Posted by drdamiang in metapoetic/metafictional, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, postmodern, Shakespeare, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Uncategorized

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Tags

Hamlet, poem, poetry, Shakespeare, simulation

SIMULATION

Hamlet’s suspicion is that it’s all just a simulation
watching the Murder of Gonzago
kind of helped put
that in his head

and the constantly changing architecture
of Elsinore, not
to speak of the clothing
and the fact that when he once
tested a decidedly dicey
piece of battlement
it crumbled in a manner
which brought into question
the nature of the reality
of the castle, and ergo
the nature of his own
much philosophized being
and narrative itself

for who
but an author unreservedly pernicious,
quote unGodlike
would allow his Uncle to succeed
Ophelia to drown

and Laertes to strike
a killer blow despite his own ineptitude

before we
even begin to consider

the defeating applause
as all
goes dark

as story ends

ALLEGORY

02 Sunday Aug 2020

Posted by drdamiang in Consciousness, digital age, Dream, hermetic, Humanity, identity, Imagination, Labyrinth, Metamorphosis, metapoetic/metafictional, Narrative, Nonlinear, Parallel universe, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, postmodern, Reader, Reality?, science fictional, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Story, Technology, The World, Thinking, transformation

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Tags

Allegory, Consciousness, Dream, identity, meaning, metapoetic, philosophical, poem, poetry, postmodern, science fiction, simulation, Universe

ALLEGORY

he dissolves the yellow-orange tablet in water
the taste is bitter so he adds a drop of honey to sweeten it
whilst doing so he has a slightly critical thought about himself as one of those people he somewhat dispises — the people who need to add sugar to sweeten things

when he writes down his dream experience he uses no punctuation
he does not know why this should be

the game teaches him things he would not have learnt otherwise

it takes him places
he has never been

he calls the game “Allegpry”
he wonders if there are other users, and where, if there are, their collective consciousness might actually be

there is frightening violence and graphic sexual experience in the game, at least in some of the narrative lines he has followed
this would suggest there is no single determining mind able to censor content that players/users might find disturbing, offensive or unsuitable

the game has been around for a very long time, perhaps as long as time itself

some aspects of the game do seem alien, beyond human consciousness, outside of the categories of human rational and philosophical thinking

the game could be a force for good or evil
it could be morally ambivalent
it could be, to use the philosopher’s phrase: beyond good and evil

perhaps even how they are working to turn the dream world into an absolute universal simulation, a concrete reality — the people who created the yellow-orange, somewhat bitter tasting effervescent tablets

he imagined them working in a laboratory, then he realized he did not have to imagine them because them working in the laboratory was part of the game

in one of the Internet chat rooms where they discuss the game, its origin, its meaning, how it should be experienced, how it should be played, there are those who express the idea that some of the narratives are eternal

open-ended, they fold back upon themselves like Möbius strips, looping back and forward forever

he has no thought on this, but believes the possible narratives or versions of the narrative could be in the millions or billions
perhaps even infinite in number

the game is, he fears, slowly deleting ha sense of the real

he spoke about this to his supervisor at the laboratory

thins at the laboratory seem to be becoming stranger by the day, his daily working life becoming more surreal

perhaps there is no laboratory, no game, no yellow-orange tablet, no Sun in the sky

perhaps there is a codeword or code phrase that needs to be uttered that will stop or suspend everything

perhaps the game has secretly been feeding him the codeword or phrase already

perhaps it is on his tongue and he
will remember it
definitely will remember it

with that thought the dissolved tablet finding its way into his system begins to operate according to the precise chemical plan and..

he is back in the game

ANYWAY

02 Sunday Aug 2020

Posted by drdamiang in Control, dark, digital age, Dystopia, Hell, Humanity, Lunacy/madness, Mechanistic, Mirror, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, political, Politics of poetry/writing/Literature, postmodern, power, Reader, science, science fictional, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Technology, The future, Thinking, Twilight zone, Underworld, Value and meaning, writing

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Tags

Dystopia, dystopian, fake, Hell, Humanity, identity, Labyrinth, meaning, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, power, Reader, satire, science fiction, writing

ANYWAY

This poem
is a fake

it resides
in another place

there is nothing
incredible about it
the wiring that
produced it
can be
copied
can be replaced

follow this thread
deep into the labyrinth
follow it to wheee
intrepid souls travelled
did happen
to lose themselves

thinking it
just a labyrinth
an ordinary labyrinth
a brain-
like labyrinth
that we have played with
since the
beginning of time

not a doorway to Hell
a fake doorway
that works anyway.

OUT THE WINDOW

06 Monday Jan 2020

Posted by drdamiang in digital age, media, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, Politics of poetry/writing/Literature, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Uncategorized

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Tags

journalism, philosophical, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, satire, simulation, The Matrix, Truth, writing

OUT THE WINDOW
“You are a slave, Neo”.

saw you
take pride of
place
commenting, pontificating
trying to
connect
what happening in the polls
with what you
see
on the television
in
the television

cola and the blue pills
going down

the words out your mouth
horribly inadequate
blue-
pill betrayal in
favour of the simulation’s
simulation’s
flavour
of
the month

and there goes
journalism
for a
ball
of chalk

and there goes
ontology — out the window

HOLOGRAM

26 Thursday Sep 2019

Posted by drdamiang in Humanity, identity, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Universe

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Humanity, identity, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry

HOLOGRAM

viewed as a
machine
I’m definitely
breaking down

viewed as a
hologram, a projection
from a
reality composed of
multiple dimensions

then my
image is fading

today I notice
my right arm j
disappearing, soon
it will be gone

no longer will
I be able to
write all
those many
many
many things

nobody takes time
to read

SLICK

17 Saturday Aug 2019

Posted by drdamiang in Alternate universe, Author, Cat, cosmic, Cosmology, Creation, Creativity, Eternal eternity, existential, Failure, Light, Lost, Mathematics, metapoetic/metafictional, Nonlinear, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, postmodern, Poststructuralism, Reality?, relativistic, science, science fictional, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, time and space (space/time), Twist in the tail, Unity, Universe

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

comic, Creation, Light, loneliness, metapoetic, Mirror, philosophical, philosophy, poem, poetry, poststructuralist, relativity, science, Stars, Universe, wordplay, writing

SLICK

in a galaxy
far, far away

another you reading
another me
writing

bored
out of
our tiny minds

it’s something to do
with parsecs and
light-speed

alternate universes and
the mathematical possibility
of mirrors
that this
drab little poem
has garnered the status
of cosmic joke
slick
as a
Cheshire
cat’s mind

MY KARMA

04 Thursday Jul 2019

Posted by drdamiang in philosophical, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

philosophical, poem, poetry, The Matrix

MY KARMA
“Fate, it seems, is not
without a sense of irony.”
“The Matrix”

the Universe, considerately,
polished the floor
before polishing the floor with me

danced on my grave
but did
bring flowers

pulverized, annihilated,
caramelized:
had to
invent new words
to deal with
what was
done to me

whereupon,
skyped all the women
too gorgeous by far for me
to tell me I lost, was
badly defeated,
in a variety of languages
in their different
regional accents

my eyes closing finally
at that music to
(at least) my ears
ringing
in my battered ears

DREAM SOFTWARE

26 Wednesday Jun 2019

Posted by drdamiang in Dream, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, Politics of poetry/writing/Literature, postmodern, SIMULATION: We are living in a simulation, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Dream, Matrix, philosophical, poem, poetry, universe is a sublimation

DREAM SOFTWARE

bought some
dream software

loaded it
on my
hard drive

did not have
the right
graphics card
or motherboard

unfortunately
the dream
or
dreamer
died
(hard to
tell, as
the sage
did say,
the
difference
once inside)

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