An excellent advertisement for the joys of backing up your work! 
Good luck getting everything sorted, and congrats on the ACA win! Very well deserved.
Good luck getting everything sorted, and congrats on the ACA win! Very well deserved.
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Oh, how causality was thought to be unbreakable
But this proves otherwise.
I wonder if there are other "truths"
That are not as concrete as we had believed?
But this proves otherwise.
I wonder if there are other "truths"
That are not as concrete as we had believed?
The Fire in our Hearts
The Fire in our Hearts
There’s a fire, deep inside our hearts
To search and discover and light up the dark
We have come here, in search of fables told
Of a hidden cavern with secrets to unfold
Perhaps it’s treasure?
Or something new to measure?
Perhaps it’s everything.
The scars of the past here, cry out and sing
Notes cutting through time with a clamor and a ring
Deathly secrets, hidden beyond fire and stone
Founds amidst ruins crowded with the past and yet alone
Perhaps it will reveal the past?
Or answer questions yet unasked?
Perhaps it will change everything?
Memories of singers, echoing through a maze of time
Singing to us, without reason and without rhyme
Why go through this? Why create this?
Why bury memories behind a fiery abyss?
Perhaps these are memories.
Perhaps these are messages.
Perhaps they were the only means to echo
An echo into a silent future so we could hear the past?
There’s a fire, deep inside our hearts
To search and discover and light up the dark
We have come here, in search of fables told
Of a hidden cavern with secrets to unfold
Perhaps it’s treasure?
Or something new to measure?
Perhaps it’s everything.
The scars of the past here, cry out and sing
Notes cutting through time with a clamor and a ring
Deathly secrets, hidden beyond fire and stone
Founds amidst ruins crowded with the past and yet alone
Perhaps it will reveal the past?
Or answer questions yet unasked?
Perhaps it will change everything?
Memories of singers, echoing through a maze of time
Singing to us, without reason and without rhyme
Why go through this? Why create this?
Why bury memories behind a fiery abyss?
Perhaps these are memories.
Perhaps these are messages.
Perhaps they were the only means to echo
An echo into a silent future so we could hear the past?
An excellent advertisement for the joys of backing up your work!
Good luck getting everything sorted, and congrats on the ACA win! Very well deserved.
Scientists well know,
research without frequent backups
leads to tears of failure
Hope is not a plan
thankfully our plan worked out
things may now proceed
To embrace science
is to embrace the truth fully
in its certainty and ambiguity.
---
And we're back in business, thanks for your patience.
A vault of awe though deep in space
Not deep enough, the planet's core
The builders seek although their race
Will disappear forevermore
Not deep enough, the planet's core
The builders seek although their race
Will disappear forevermore
A mysterious tomb
Left for no discernible reason
Why was this? Why?
That question remains unanswered,
But an answer is wanted.
We shall search for answers,
Although they might not be found.
Left for no discernible reason
Why was this? Why?
That question remains unanswered,
But an answer is wanted.
We shall search for answers,
Although they might not be found.
The reality of history
is that while it fades in time from memory
It never truly disappears.
Beware the curse of the galactic treasure chest!
If these found riches
are an ancient terrible curse
then curse us more often
To question endlessly
without certain answers to find
is the fate of sentience.
--
Apologies for the delay,
American thanksgiving and its aftermath got in the way
expect an update in a mere few days.
Diplomacy by other Means
Diplomacy by other Means
What makes a community?
Is it when we all sing in common song?
It is being able to act in unity?
Or feeling that we belong?
What makes a community?
Must all members feel like they belong?
And what happens if a member acts with impunity?
What if they refuse to sing along?
Can this thing before us be called a community?
No common history, no common story, no common song.
There is no common purpose here, no unity
And yet its discordant voices rise together.
To form a strange new sublime sort of song
Or is this then but a field of war?
Not of ships but of ideas?
A way to create a discordant flock into a murder
Singing songs that demand for more?
Is this then but a different means
For the strong to dominate the weak?
Now a thesis and antithesis are presented
Perhaps a synthesis can be attempted
It is like cells born out of the primeval ooze of the past?
Living to murder, seeking but to outlast
And yet working together in blind purpose to survive
Inventing thousands of strategies for life to derive
Red beaks dripping with blood; singing together
Creating a community
Seeking a sublime symbiosis
Singing of unity
Cackling murders, cacophonous, chaotic,
Evolving towards the rational,
Creating a community
Out of a shared past
Of survival?
What makes a community?
Is it when we all sing in common song?
It is being able to act in unity?
Or feeling that we belong?
What makes a community?
Must all members feel like they belong?
And what happens if a member acts with impunity?
What if they refuse to sing along?
Can this thing before us be called a community?
No common history, no common story, no common song.
There is no common purpose here, no unity
And yet its discordant voices rise together.
To form a strange new sublime sort of song
Or is this then but a field of war?
Not of ships but of ideas?
A way to create a discordant flock into a murder
Singing songs that demand for more?
Is this then but a different means
For the strong to dominate the weak?
Now a thesis and antithesis are presented
Perhaps a synthesis can be attempted
It is like cells born out of the primeval ooze of the past?
Living to murder, seeking but to outlast
And yet working together in blind purpose to survive
Inventing thousands of strategies for life to derive
Red beaks dripping with blood; singing together
Creating a community
Seeking a sublime symbiosis
Singing of unity
Cackling murders, cacophonous, chaotic,
Evolving towards the rational,
Creating a community
Out of a shared past
Of survival?
A galaxy united
Though only half it seems
If a harmonious chorus
It'd be the stuff of dreams
But if instead a tool of war
Oppression and despair
The Saiiban may regret at last
Their great celestial dare
Though only half it seems
If a harmonious chorus
It'd be the stuff of dreams
But if instead a tool of war
Oppression and despair
The Saiiban may regret at last
Their great celestial dare
A shame that recycling looks a non-starter;
The galaxy prefers to exchange and to barter.
But all the same, good to see
wider diplomacy.
Let's hope they don't scrap it all
in some fight over capital.
The galaxy prefers to exchange and to barter.
But all the same, good to see
wider diplomacy.
Let's hope they don't scrap it all
in some fight over capital.
A galaxy united
But for how long?
And for what purpose?
These questions are troubling indeed.
Will this song be peaceful?
Will it be united?
If so, what individuality shall remain?
Too much could lead to a discordant harmony,
But too little could lead to a loss of identity.
But for how long?
And for what purpose?
These questions are troubling indeed.
Will this song be peaceful?
Will it be united?
If so, what individuality shall remain?
Too much could lead to a discordant harmony,
But too little could lead to a loss of identity.
Infinite Beginnings
Infinite Beginnings
In the vastness endless of space time
We stop a spell, to ponder a sublime design
And have a conversation with infinity
It ponders us, itself, existence,
And asks if we time for a question
You see, it says, we aren’t sure, where we start and where we end,
Is our existence but a means to an end?
After all, on a universal scale, what is time?
It’s a really vexing question
Even if, like us, you solve hard problems as if by design
It’s difficult to know the start of existence
And where to start or end measuring infinity.
It is so inconceivably small, this Infinity
In fact it never seems to start, only end
Always on the verge of coming into existence
If simply given enough time
But it's starting end seems as if by design
To bring the reality of existence into question.
And yet, it is so large, this existence, it begs the question
How can a mere word, infinity
Possibly capture the infinite design
From start to end
Across the infinite reaches of space time
To the beginning of the end of existence?
But how do you measure existence?
You are part of it, asking yourself the question
Going forward (backwards?) through time
Part of its infinity
Not knowing how it will end
Not knowing it’s design
And yet, here you are, your questions demand you design
Instruments to measure, define, describe your existence
So that one day perhaps you will find an end
To this seemingly endless question
Of the size and nature of Infinity
And the nature of time
To demand an answer of your question
Of the endless, expanding, ending filled void of Infinity
Of a galaxy exploding into being, into nothing, given enough time.
In the vastness endless of space time
We stop a spell, to ponder a sublime design
And have a conversation with infinity
It ponders us, itself, existence,
And asks if we time for a question
You see, it says, we aren’t sure, where we start and where we end,
Is our existence but a means to an end?
After all, on a universal scale, what is time?
It’s a really vexing question
Even if, like us, you solve hard problems as if by design
It’s difficult to know the start of existence
And where to start or end measuring infinity.
It is so inconceivably small, this Infinity
In fact it never seems to start, only end
Always on the verge of coming into existence
If simply given enough time
But it's starting end seems as if by design
To bring the reality of existence into question.
And yet, it is so large, this existence, it begs the question
How can a mere word, infinity
Possibly capture the infinite design
From start to end
Across the infinite reaches of space time
To the beginning of the end of existence?
But how do you measure existence?
You are part of it, asking yourself the question
Going forward (backwards?) through time
Part of its infinity
Not knowing how it will end
Not knowing it’s design
And yet, here you are, your questions demand you design
Instruments to measure, define, describe your existence
So that one day perhaps you will find an end
To this seemingly endless question
Of the size and nature of Infinity
And the nature of time
To demand an answer of your question
Of the endless, expanding, ending filled void of Infinity
Of a galaxy exploding into being, into nothing, given enough time.
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When a chorus sings
dare you not join its ringing song?
To stay silent is death.
Diplomacy both is, and is not
but a wider tool of competition
It can untie a Gordian knot
Or be but a subtle sword of the tactician
To sing together,
is both death and birth in one
out of many comes one
Out of one, many.
Such a device makes thinkers sing
In despair rather than joy for
The final answer it may bring
Desired or not upon our door
For if all matters are revealed
And none are left to seek
Then what more can we wield
That would make us unique
In despair rather than joy for
The final answer it may bring
Desired or not upon our door
For if all matters are revealed
And none are left to seek
Then what more can we wield
That would make us unique
We are of existence
So we cannot contemplate it objectively
Feelings will always shroud our minds
And that will lead to an incomplete definition.
These machines will fail.
Indeed, they must.
They have - and will - only exist for a fraction of infinity.
What answers on foreverness can they gain if they do not last forever?
So we cannot contemplate it objectively
Feelings will always shroud our minds
And that will lead to an incomplete definition.
These machines will fail.
Indeed, they must.
They have - and will - only exist for a fraction of infinity.
What answers on foreverness can they gain if they do not last forever?
Our Brethren
Our Brethren
Our Brethren,
Accursed be thy names,
Your own feathers red
With blood you have shed
In both our nests and in the heavens
And on this day we sing your final rest
But forgive you not your trespasses
For we also sing for those
Who no longer fly with us
You, who would send us into damnation
Instead, find your song beyond retrieval
And yours is death’s kingdom,
But ours is the power, and the glory
Forever and ever, again.
(And yet, an echo lives on,
And though its fate is foregone,
Duty demands we fulfill it’s song)
Our Brethren,
Accursed be thy names,
Your own feathers red
With blood you have shed
In both our nests and in the heavens
And on this day we sing your final rest
But forgive you not your trespasses
For we also sing for those
Who no longer fly with us
You, who would send us into damnation
Instead, find your song beyond retrieval
And yours is death’s kingdom,
But ours is the power, and the glory
Forever and ever, again.
(And yet, an echo lives on,
And though its fate is foregone,
Duty demands we fulfill it’s song)
And how strange to find
a polite machine counting
infinite wonder of the universe
The strange wonder is
beholding the universe
all are unique, and thus none are.
Always, our minds stretch
and can behold vast realities
of which we are not a part
After all, we sing of stars
and have never been amidst
the furnaces of fusion.
So who are we to say
that a limited machine
beholding infinity
(as we behold it also)
might not understand of it
some small part?