Freshly Diced

Peculiar Rasterised

Who is Jack Purcell

Jack Purcell was a Canadian athlete who smashed birdies flying through the air for a living, winning several prestigious awards including the 1933 world Badminton championship. That neat signature Converse smilie has a new friend, Lunaron. What a pair.

Artificial Intelligence

This is a fascinating period, witnessed the transition from hand written mail to the digital touch dial. Watched the manipulators on cherry oak box tubes become thin screens, digital channels, YouTube streams. Gasoline filled whips, skies filled with carbon monoxide, integrated tech introduces the hybrid ride, now were cruising the full electric side. Maybe one day, h2o with the chloride. Why, cause it’s what helps the blood flow, an era of artificial intelligence control.

Gone are the days of petrol. Observe there’s a new kid on the block on patrol. Synthetic minds with moods, methods, and schematic tactics of all kinds. Computerized automated soul. When they take over, might need to retreat to the rhines, off the grid lines. There will lie the days to appreciate sun sets, archived moonshine, back to basics, grow crops under Gods light, waterfalls and sunshine, break bread, wine, draw close to Jesus as he heals the blind. Learn wisdom, refine metaphors and the rhyme.

A world of evolved rebels against the encrypted, or are they saints judged by critics. Crptics. It’s a new era of war, their brims cover their eyes, digital spies, cracking codes, vigilantes hiding in incognito modes. Computerized man vs man, created by man’s hands, flawed and emotionless. Praying on man’s weaknesses, lazinesses. Pray for man’s intelligence to have faith. Witness machines making decisions, their moves are precise same as their siblings, surgical robotic incisions, macro precision.

Mass data on you retained, through your phones, pcs, legal small print, collected and contained. Artificial intelligence is dissecting your life piece by piece, flipping your life inside out, your private life deceased. Monitoring every little detail, especially what lies between the crease, fatal man made non-fictional tale.

Glazed Maze

Fools gazing me, fools gaze doesn’t faze me. Head space make believe, watch their moves, sugar glaze plots. Pawns shifting walls to maze you. Words, actions fugazi, Hillary tactics, hard to read, manipulated, deceive, cover up, question the story of Benghazi. Makeup and make believe, cover girl story, wake up, demfukuz lying through their teeth. Look into their eyes, authentic cronies addicted to lies, life dilated. Hiding in the cracks between the silver lining, reciting movie plots as their own, faking jaxs, brutal Brutus and his team of schemes, taking Caesars rightful throne.

Faking knowledge, do the research like Naudwuar, that finger tip power, Chrome. Wait, watch the loops, fake facts. Always three sides to the story, but political interest say it’s all based on the majority. Grim future, cloudy clownings of societies in disarray, Lucy’s savoring the evolution of the world’s decay.

Catch them folks when their plans get lazy. The only truth they’ll have left is the death of their raided glory. Pace of life is moving quick, chase it down. Family structures abominated, three dad’s and a parrot, can’t fuck with the carrots. All spread through social media share its. Spoken and spread through the fainted man leashed on ties. Recognize the patterns, watch those flaky maggot flies laying eggs in your shit, faking-it.