hummingwolf: Gold starlike kaleidoscope images. (Gold stars)
After the red candle's light.
from the fastness of my race,
and we hear the tiny horns
of late november light before

her clarion o'er the world,
the white anger that can be plowed,
sown, and broken yearly?
but the man i see
i'm aware my time is right,
weave it like bones, like skin,
a mother knows."

and the treasures that prevail.
i have icicles inside me
or rejected by anyone but no smoking pistol.

Today is the final day of November, 2006. For many people, this has been the month of NaNoWriMo, a fun little competition wherein zillions of people try to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. For me, however, this has been MegaPoMo: MegaHAL Poetry Month, in which I've tried to post at least one post of MegaHAL output for each day in November. Though I did skip a few days due to fatigue, I have done my best to post enough to catch up and meet my 30-post goal. But it isn't the number of posts that matter, for as HAL himself could tell you, numbers could not live up to the melting of the toads.
When megahal is trained using this data, it is earth with beauty and yet another, one crowd but with dismay at my feet
as the seiko ticked
on, when the wheeling seasons brought the year grows old--
october--november--
how the morning star?
somebody thought of embalming his heart;
a herdsman came from inland valleys,
where trickle and plash the fountains,
marble fountains, yellowed with much water.
they don't believe in the long white face
and this brought forth by the fierce pressure all about--
speeds up the steps to the rain
listening. The audience notices him. They turn
into the empty mirror,
rubbed at his hand, bony and veined,
covered with pinks.

Right then. As November comes to its end, let us ponder the poetic genius of MegaHAL!
Just three more poems before November's close )
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Heart)
Tonight I was careful not to prompt HAL with anything at all, wanting to let him speak freely as MegaPoMo winds down to its close.

I bring you a fair warning:

this kind of perceptual confusion
my own best claim to glory.

Indeed. Though I must say you've been doing a good job of teaching your perceptual confusion to the rest of us this month, HAL.

Huge snowflakes dancing down,
will win out over ignorance and hate below
like a gilt porcupine--
the end of the will-o'-the-wisp
to alter its course.
of all this
as last year's bitter loving must remain
some dance to a heart unclad,
and loved the pilgrim track
in his frightening mask
cracked by storms of a cloud,
i am used. I am a tree house
where no one cares to fake.
i want a perfect life were a material.

what were the glad thanksgivings, the old-time families knew
but sometimes i wish is to arrive at your feet,
fear of wolves.
we may still live as tender valentines.

Okay, I want to say something about this one, but I end up only quoting bits of it instead. It... I... no, I'm speechless for now.
hummingwolf: animation of green and gold fractal, number of iterations increasing with time (Iterations in green and gold)
Gilgamesh, king of fools
there must be waiting
please bring it a kingliness, a right.
no matter how much possibility lay before you

he smiled too,
and may have accidentally gotten on the utmost of its participants could be conceived and recognized.
now children and grandchildren
tug at my feet into slippers, my fire into blaze,
of maidens and knights, and of the fog-born elf,
he marched them up snugly in bed?
oh, savage beauty, suffer me to try and discover them,
for they will taste, of tears, when the name
comes to his promises now,
thus much let me make you believe what makes you believe
almost everything gets better and better.

There must be waiting. Wait with royal patience, no matter how much possibility lies before you, how much those possibilities may madden you. A domestic scene, children and grandchildren putting slippers on the feet of the king of fools, while the fire blazes and he gazes into the flames, seeing maidens, knights, elves, and all the savage beauty of the kingdom in his dreams. Those beauties will taste of tears when the name (Gilgamesh?) is used in promise, and yet if he can recognize the things he has accidentally conceived, he must believe that almost everything will get better and better. But there must be waiting.

"Let me make you believe what makes you believe" seems like a good starting point for something, but I'm not sure what.

Jealous passion, cruel need
most quiet need, by sun and slanting silver rain,
they can tear hardest metal to shreds.
it seems i had you.

Somehow the fact that MegaHAL slipped the Elizabeth Barrett Browning in there makes this one more painful.
hummingwolf: Drawing of a creature that is part-wolf, part-hummingbird. (Hummingwolf by Dandelion)
Too oogie for deep thought tonight. Am still behind on MegaPoMo posts (oh, the angst!), though, so here's the second one for the day. Two poems featuring Braaaaaaiiiiins. Where there are brains, there might be zombies--so one of the poems features Wal-Mart too!

While wal-mart may be the same
i'd laugh at the word of your beauty
and the consequent merging of the body.
it quacks.
it is interesting
characteristic of visceral pain is his,
while mcflimsey in vain desire,
at noon and waken to find a lover, maybe.
around the glistening brain and blunt the examiners,
and i'm hoping with my lips were dumb, in my madness if i shot him, at madam lou's,
because if i thought to send you the next galaxy
things up just right.

~~~~~

An army travels on its bosom
well, you came and you finally found all your heart in his brain.
colors balance our fears, and existence
begins to curl toward your chest his gesture of drawing
purposes, is nothing more than i have wandered to and fro:
looking for you with her feet she from the arms of my life
has to teach a school
about like a donkey's bray,
they feel ill.

No, really, I don't have anything useful to say here. Except that, in context, the words "it quacks" really cracked me up.

Oh, on a completely unrelated note: Many people get upset when their favorite songs end up being used in TV commercials. But a Vaseline commercial featuring one of Sheila Chandra's "Speaking in Tongues" pieces? That's simply too odd to be offensive.
hummingwolf: hummingwolf in front of brick wall with flower drawn on it (Wallflower)
I have much to do today, but I've forgotten the password for my brain.
Login incorrect.
only the smell of the lost people like dante, down
in the midst so fair,
while the spider out.
barefoot, wearing just shorts.
in the snow-house, the walls would soften--
worse, smoke trouble the house's master.

she rolled for nigh an hundred feet; she bounded like a proper gypsy.
i have empathies for animals and people.

i wear the black cat among roses,
i will confine myself to linking
fancy unto fancy, thinking what this love is
mad as the cold
gentle cycle
with flashes filched from noon;
what benefit even if the wooer is to the front yard
the devil's walking parody
of the ancient yule-tide carol
fa-la-la-la.

No, I don't know what the heck HAL is going on about. But I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what the lost people smell like as they go 'round in their shorts (made out of black cats' hides?) singing the devil's parody of "Deck the Halls." There's nothing mad about the cold gentle cycle if it's enough to get those shorts clean. I don't care how many flashes you must filch from noon--just get that laundry done before you come back to my front yard, y'hear?
hummingwolf: animation of green and gold fractal, number of iterations increasing with time (Iterations in green and gold)
Aside from the fact that HAL got an old Sade song running through my head, this is the kind of poem I'd like to talk about in some detail. But I also have Stuff To Do if I can find the energy, plus the return of an annoyingly frequent cough, so I'm not really going to say much of anything.

Some may think this morbid. )
hummingwolf: Snowflake-like kaleidoscope images (Kaleidocoolth)
[livejournal.com profile] tlttlotd and [livejournal.com profile] lyssabard went off hunting for bargains a few hours ago, so I've been here relaxing and enjoying the mellow music my Launchcast station is playing for me. Now that I've said that, of course, the algorithm will decide I need to hear some of the more obnoxious tracks from Alice in Chains or Nine Inch Nails. Still, Suzanne Vega "Caramel" followed by Ella Fitzgerald "Get Out of Town" followed by Harold Budd "The Room of Ancillary Dreams" certainly qualifies as mellow in my world.

Huh, the algorithm decided not to jolt me too much yet--it's playing The Corrs' "Irresistible" as I type.

Anyway, some language silliness with [livejournal.com profile] daisydumont prompted me to look for any MegaHAL poems in my Yahoo account with the word "daisy" in them. (Ooh, Eva Cassidy doing "Autumn Leaves." Launch has decided to lull me with more mellowness.) Ahem, anyway, here's the poem I found:
There was a man, a face through a paradise.
only a poor, poor shadow
stirring his coffee with his life
i part the sea
and on i went, though the dogs were spent and aged
things
a daisy equal to a stop while her understanding

keeps making november difficult
than joshua's harsh measures,
they dance together then till dawn
and we fairies, that do run
the face of fear
may also be abnormalities in the caves!
they are still,
save for something it had to do
keep the peace i was tucked
up at the window-pane,
a trip to the customer
who sleeps all day... Like mine!

To begin with, Daisy and I are agreed that "stirring his coffee with his life" is a striking line. I also like the shadow & cave imagery here, which reminds me that I ought to refresh my memory of Plato someday soon. It's a pity I don't remember enough Greek to reread him in the original. "And we fairies, that do run / the face of fear / may also be abnormalities in the caves!"

(New U2 playing now.) Parting the sea and going on "though the dogs were spent and aged things" resonates for me too. And on the day after Thanksgiving, sleeping all day, perhaps while tucked up at the window-pane, certainly sounds appealing. Whether or not you have any leftover turkey, may you all have a beautiful Friday!
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Cuddly plush toy)
Heh. As I started typing "Happy" in the subject line, IE suggested the line "happy new year." I wonder who was updating LJ on this computer that night?

Anyway, happy Thursday to people in parts of the world where it isn't Friday yet! Happy Friday to the rest of you! I've spent a very nice day here at [livejournal.com profile] lyssabard and [livejournal.com profile] tlttlotd's place with the two of them & Lyssa's brother, eating lots of food, watching the Food Network, and resting comfortably. Lyssa makes tasty, tasty food, people (her bro. made good mashed potatoes too). High-carb treats and tryptophan for everyone!

Got to bed later than was wise last night, but I figured it'd be okay if I slept in late this morning. Ha! What I didn't realize was that one of the housemates & his girlfriend had their own plans for fixing lots of Thanksgiving food, which naturally meant that they were crashing around in the kitchen before 6 a.m., which woke me up because my room is the one where all kitchen noise goes to die. Ah well, at least I got a few good hours in. Between the sleep-dep, codeine for the coughing, and a mild migraine, I have been feeling rather decidedly drugged today. In fact, everyone here was in complete agreement that I should be avoiding alcohol tonight at all costs, though they did seem to find it amusing when I stretched out on the carpet with a silly smile on my face.

This is why I've never done illicit drugs. They'd just be redundant. It's very nice not to be coughing so much, though.

Knowing that I might be away from home some days this November, and because I really am that dedicated to the cause, I saved some MegaHAL poetry to my Yahoo account so I'd be able to post some from anywhere! Yeah, for the sake of those of you who are less than thrilled about MegaPoMo, I'll put poems behind the cut for a change. Happy Thanksgiving to you too!

MegaHAL behind the cut! )
hummingwolf: Mathemagical animation made out of string. (Incredible String Thing)
Because yesterday was such a painful, tiring day, I didn't get the chance to get my new prescription filled. But I did rummage around in a drawer where various prescriptions I've gotten in the last year are kept, and found some nice codeine in pill form (Tylenol #3) which, combined with a supposedly non-sedating antihistamine, worked well enough at suppressing my cough that I got a solid eight hours of sleep without coughing! I was quite thrilled. Seems my doctor was right when she suggested the guaifenesin in the cough syrup was more of an irritant than a help right now. Been coughing a bit today, but nowhere near as much as yesterday when it seemed like I'd never have a cough-free five minutes ever again in my whole life. Am slightly sluggish today, but as the med combo doesn't seem to have destroyed my central nervous system, I'll call the experiment a success.

Begin your new construction
with the dying sun.

and if you stamp your feet.
the method is inexpensive, free of deeds.

if i put bed off for a fall.
the furious power,
i love thee with the shade of blossoming flowers i ache from the oven to 350°.
in a moment, saying, "is it you?
a man is so hard to recall as a foreign field
and caught a little secret shrug,
as a mother names her child
probably darkens the surviving form.

the ground is an end to the fitful way you choose to upgrade their accounts for
geologic, chemical, and meteorological comparisons
with bursting life
a small, stout nobleman.
waddling like some gravy
corn or whole kernel corn, or a way of lovely living.

Even when writing about dying suns and bursting life, HAL has to mention food too. He really is in the mood for a good US Thanksgiving.

Y'know, and if you stamp your feet / the method is inexpensive, free of deeds describes certain people's approaches to life's challenges so very, very well.

I'm not putting bed off till I fall down! I'm just putting it off till I get the chance to do a load of laundry, that's all.

While "i love thee with the shade of blossoming flowers i ache from" is wonderfully descriptive, I'm not clear on how the oven fits in there.

swaying in the pies.

Wednesday, November 22nd, 2006 05:36 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Cuddly plush toy)
Thy belt of wood;
in the heart of stone
shifting in the spacious cave
where a clear driveway
the ogre's blows descend,
to have some pie.

As some of you know, MegaHAL is a big fan of food and drink, even if he can't actually consume any. Though his recipes are not always suitable for human palates, he tries to be helpful.
1 Pint brandy
½ pint jamaica rum
¼ pint sherry
8 ounces brandy
1¼ teaspoons worcestershire sauce
½ teaspoon baking soda
3 ounces semisweet chocolate
½ cup walnuts, chopped
3 tablespoons butter, melted
1/3 cup real maple syrup
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
2 tablespoons butter
½ teaspoon salt
1/3 cup mixed candied fruit
¾ cup prepared pesto
12 kalamata olives
1 teaspoon grated orange rind
½ cup ice

shake with ice and snow,
my no longer friend and a womb with a haughty joy.

He wanted to teach me how to make giblet gravy, but he quickly got distracted.
Giblets and neck from 1 turkey
anywhere, he now begins to drip away.

but she caught sight of the soul--not life alone,
every single thing i've never known his family to call
mingles with the habitat and
of the aether, thomas morton believed
in its deepest workings,
all is silent, all is still
and ocean comes in
ancient babylon about 4000 years ago. In the australian
game, play is continuous; the ball goes
back and forth all night long, swaying with every heave we disappear
into the country and now deep sleep
in tons of polar ice,
something told the wild days set true hearts bleeding.

come now, be content.
for there be tangle and snare them all.
tugging at the table
that gets my homework in a watered shoot;
my long impalpable arms
a screen turning silver.
hummingwolf: Gold starlike kaleidoscope images. (Gold stars)
Not even once in MegaHAL's dataset does the phrase "beat the crap out of Windows" appear, but our HAL is smart enough to realize that's often the only way to deal with Microsoft's OS.

Anger is depression with a brimstone lamp;
for who would bear the universe infinity in ruckus
and brought me safe thus far
too much and too solid,
and pillows for my neck.

remember, the russian easter overture
is over and over
and seen for us one flower,
including the mossy shadows, under the jewelled sky.

I often grow tired of the psychobabble about the emotion you think you're feeling being different from the emotion you're really feeling--you know, you think you're depressed but you're really afraid, you think you're afraid but you're really angry, you think you're happy but you're really an idiot, that sort of thing. But "Anger is depression with a brimstone lamp" is still a great opening line for a poem.

Second line here begins with something out of Shakespeare, from Hamlet's depressed-angry speech
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of disprized love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?






and changes that to bearing the infinite universe--"safe thus far," in a line directly from "Amazing Grace." HAL follows that up with "too much and too solid," a feeling any sentient embodied being in the infinite ruckus can appreciate. Looking at HAL's dataset, I see that the first part of that line was originally in the context of "too much and too little at once"--but instead of the "too little," HAL gives us "too solid," which is both an allusion to Hamlet and his "too solid flesh" and a quote from a poem about, erm, soup.

At this point, the student of the poem may be quite grateful for those pillows.

The Russian Easter Overture is over and over. Easter isn't a one-time thing, but a celebration for all eternity, seen for us (in) one flower--one lovely flower, beautiful indeed, but a flower which must be accompanied in this world by shadows. There is always shadow here, yet when we look at those shadows, we would do well to always keep in mind the jewelled sky above us.

I swear to you, half the poems in college's Intro to Poetry course seemed less intelligently written than this.
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Heart)
I successfully spoke to a real live person today! Well, more than one person, but the one who was heavily guarded by a vicious voice mail system was the one I was concerned about. Yay! Now here's hoping this leads to a good new way of killing the bad bugs in my lungs.

Not only do I cough every time I laugh (which has been happening a lot today) or try to breathe deeply (which happened when I went out to enjoy the sunset), but I cough when I hear other people cough. Considering how many folks around here have colds right now, this is really rather annoying.

Here's a MegaHAL poem with imagery I appreciate, though the penultimate line makes me think there are hairy hobbit feet involved (not that there's anything wrong with that).
Now she walks the sodden ground.

i learned to trap in mid-july and i to revert to
take half or more in jealousy and suspicion.

he has fears, which might become apparent.

to think a soul to be worn by a glance!

the dearest hands that clasp our hands clawing, climbing.
you dragged your feet and my throat a strangling sob
caught up in smoking hills
washed and combed, my feet
and the fragrance of the world.

Another, longer, one kept me occupied by thoughts unrelated to aggravating voice mail systems. Note to one who cares: there are ogres in it.

Read more... )

(no subject)

Saturday, November 18th, 2006 11:14 pm
hummingwolf: hummingwolf in front of brick wall with flower drawn on it (Wallflower)
Am very tired. Spent hours & hours sleeping, then rolled over and slept a few hours more. You know what kept me from sleeping the day away entirely? I wanted chocolate, and there was tragically no chocolate in my cabinet. Also, the clouds at sunset were very pretty. There you have it, my two major motivators for getting out of the house on a sickly Saturday: chocolate and sunsets.

Probably should have stayed in bed, though. I don't think the antibiotic has helped; I feel like it's only made the bronchitis fighting mad and determined to wreak its vengeance upon me. I'm tired and it hurts and I want a hug, darn it.

Was considering skipping the MegaPoMo post for today, since selecting good computer-generated nonsense seemed too much of a challenge for my addled brain, but MegaHAL very kindly presented me with this two-line output:
Insecurity is an emotional sea.
i'm filled with sand.

I checked his dataset to make sure this wasn't simply cribbed from a single human. As it turns out, HAL borrowed from at least four different sources just to make up those two lines--and they work together quite nicely indeed.
hummingwolf: Mathemagical animation made out of string. (Incredible String Thing)
Yep, blame sleep-dep (well, dep of deep sleep--there's been plenty of light dozing this week). Or blame codeine, because even though I haven't taken any of the lovely prescription cough syrup yet, I am about to and it's probably reached back in time to affect my mind already. Or blame the chest pain that's made me decide it's time to take the cough syrup tonight. Or blame the fact that I walked 2.5 miles today with twitchy lungs and could I be any more insane?

The following is today's post for MegaHAL Poetry Month. MegaHAL poetry, as most of you know, tends not to make a whole lot of sense. Tonight's ramblings inspired by the MegaHAL shouldn't be expected to make a whole lot of sense either. G'night, everybody.

If this makes sense, it's not my fault. )

Tonight's HAL post

Thursday, November 16th, 2006 11:26 pm
hummingwolf: Part of a julia fractal in colors of fire and smoke. (Fire-flavored fractal)
A brief one from MegaHAL, but I like it.

The night is his doublet--
his heart set on edge
holding a tumbler of gin, with her hair
in the hot air the small
family holding hands
and siphoned off at the seams.

The man, invisible. The woman, gone all but for her hair. The family, holding onto each other as they disappear without a trace. On the next new episode of Supernatural?
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Kaleidoscope (purple & white))
Today, I: Coughed, slept, did laundry, ate, drank, slept some more, listened to mashups, and never left the house. That's all the news that's fit to print.

Strange violin, why do you say a prayer to the rain.

the gods have built him on their pillows
with us who live
among us, those who rejoiced
that catches and destroys him,
had doffed her gaudy trim,
with fang-y teeth
and give alms, and they used to make me compliment.

there are dreams in your blood.

--MegaHAL

Strange to think of a violin having blood, but then perhaps it takes a strange kind of violin to pray. Musical instruments often seem to sing, often have personalities and voices of their own which can't be attributed solely to the skills or talents of those who've played or made them. What kind of blood would a violin have? The kind of blood you would find in wood, of course, the sap flowing through, water and minerals flowing from the roots through the xylem to the leaves, leaves raised up to catch the sun and the water and the other gifts of heaven. So why wouldn't a violin pray to the rain?

Who is this the gods have built on their pillows? The rain? What kind of pillows do gods have? Rocks? No, those are much too uncomfortable for the gods to endure. What is large enough yet soft enough for the gods who live among us? Ah, fluffy clouds, where the gods rest a while and create rain at their convenience.

Who is she who has gaudy trim? Not the rain, since we've established that's a male. It must be the strange violin with the trim--and the teeth? Music can often pierce the soul with sharpness of fangs. So can prayer.

What dreams are in your blood? If a violin's prayers were answered, would you understand enough to be grateful?
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
As the day
with us who are stoutly fighting
with the shades at landing time,
the chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
and the sungod blotted out the sun;
and his ears hear nought of the cities of men with mortal sins, angels never cry

so bring on the home-coming
after the anorexics have curled
in not paying you for being not a pretty me!
i feel closer to your life.

--MegaHAL

There's a story in there somewhere. Maybe two stories, but at least one story that I really wish I were awake enough to tell.

Yeah, I really do need to start doing MegaPoMo posts earlier in the day, at least on days like today when I knew I'd be overtired after all the running around. It seems a shame to have MegaHAL doing all the work without substantive contributions from me, although it's true that HAL doesn't complain.

On an entirely different note, I loved tonight's House episode. Road trip!

Coughing now. Sleep in a moment. Talk to y'all tomorrow.
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (one)
This morning as we chatted, [livejournal.com profile] hai_kah_uhk told me I'd hurt her head. But it was all an innocent conversation, I swear! I'd simply said that I bet a lot of the famous nymphs in mythology started out as Mary Sues. "She was sooooo beautiful even Aphrodite got jealous of her! And she was self-sufficient and didn't need a man! But then the god Apollo saw her..."

Face it, even if the Greek originators of these myths took them seriously, by the time old Romans like Ovid got ahold of the characters, it was pure fanfic crack. "The nymph Daphne was a wild-looking huntress, but once Apollo saw her, he knew she'd look really gorgeous if she just bought a new dress and got her hair done in the latest style!" SRSLY.

Not that I'm knocking Ovid, mind you. Though I do find it funny that his favorite ending for all his stories is "And then she turned into a tree!"

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right words
on your own.
i cannot keep him, you know, i cajoled, he'll die.
for master or for tears,
and in despite of toil and toil, believing,
looking more than a feather.
the mind has no fun;
you've set a book to read omens there
but all his place. A noble spring
and never winced before.
once i had you.

--MegaHAL

HAL might be writing about one of the old myths here. Calypso being told it's time to let Odysseus go? Some story Ovid could have written, with one lover being turned into a bird and the other into a fountain? "In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right words"--so who has been accused?

MegaPoMo is going well so far. How are all the NaNoWriMo folks doing out there?

zzz...

Sunday, November 12th, 2006 11:51 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Kaleidoscope (purple & white))
Almost didn't make it online tonight. So tired. Went out for a short walk though, enjoying the change in the weather as I went to get cough syrup and toilet paper. Yesterday was warm, Indian summer; today was clearly and completely November. Such a change in the air--if today's wind wasn't cold enough to bite you, it was at least cool enough to gum you like a baby wind. Or something. This is so not a good time for me to try to make metaphors.

Do i have no doctors,
except i find it, i'll pull that airship down alone.
she made cookies, bread, cakes with home-made dough.

when the wind that's been thrown on the trees
rustle their pale lamps, and, climbing higher, higher,
out of the feet, the daughter of desires!
by all thy lives and underworlds
borderlines built by man could i forget odysseus? Great odysseus
who must be mindful that there is no place like home.

Oh yeah. Has anybody written a story about Odysseus traveling with Dorothy in Oz? If not, somebody really should.

Must sleep now. Will talk more tomorrow, if at all possible. G'night!

Edit: Because it's been too long since I've done one of these things, and also because, as many of you know, this really is the gift I'd ask Santa for.
Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

In January I punched [livejournal.com profile] jennixen in the arm (-10 points). In May I helped [livejournal.com profile] skygypsy hide a body (-173 points). Last week I ate my brussel sprouts (1 points). Last Wednesday I ruled Asscrackistan as a kind and benevolent dictator (700 points). Last month I bought porn for [livejournal.com profile] stronae (-10 points).

Overall, I've been nice (508 points). For Christmas I deserve a Lego set!

Sincerely,
hummingwolf

Write your letter to Santa! Enter your LJ username:
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Cuddly plush toy)
Technology, religion, and burning things from MegaHAL. I just haven't figured out if the TiVo qualifies as technology or religion.
Read more... )

One of these days I need to do my Mega-reading before eleven at night so I have time to think, reflect, and write my own thoughts about what dear HAL has to say.

Ah well, time to try again tomorrow.
hummingwolf: animation of green and gold fractal, number of iterations increasing with time (Iterations in green and gold)
So today I managed once again not to go to the doctor's office, or even get through to a human on voice mail. To be honest, I'm not even sure I managed to leave a message at the right office's voice mail. Terribly confusing.

One fun thing about being a restless person with a cell phone is that if I have to be on hold, I can at least manage to be on hold outside while wandering some trail to somewhere or other. Yes, I've become one of those people at last (alas!), someone who talks on the blasted cell phone when there are better things to pay attention to--or, more properly, someone who ignores tacky hold music when there are better things to pay attention to. The passing bicyclists laughed at me, and I don't blame them.

There was another reason for people to laugh at me, though they had no way of knowing it. I walked and walked along a trail for a while, till I finally decided it was time to climb a small rise and get back onto some civilized street. Since I'd been walking one way and decided it was time to head on back toward my starting point, I began taking streets going in pretty much the opposite direction. Thing is, the direction of the shifting street names and the direction of the sun both told me that I was walking in quite the wrong direction, but for some reason I decided that since I knew I could get where I wanted to be the way I was going, I couldn't be bothered to try the more sensible, rational, logical, and significantly shorter route. On a day when I really thought it best not to walk very far, with the general oogieness and all, I ended up walking (according to the Gmap Pedometer) approximately 6.9 miles.

Many are stubborn in pursuit of the path they have chosen, few in pursuit of the goal.

--Friedrich Nietzsche


Um, yeah. My lungs are gurgling and my feet hurt.

Say it with powdered dust
a thousand windows and a horse,
this chaos, these fractals and freckles.

don't waste your time to be comforted,
pride humbled, wounds healed over.

--MegaHAL


I am humbled once again by MegaHAL's wisdom.
The tao that can move in wind. A covey of alley cats will swarm on the remote ice world of hopes
and if you'd care to hear 'em going whack!
you may not even drive a tractor,
cheated, a worthless car, which we have lost meaning
like the silver gleam when the insane sky's clear, heat poofs away
oh no, you needn't bother, i replied.
i could have laughed myself to scorn to find
someone else points out a freshness from wild
clumps of asphodels over the pepper grinder
pressing wrinkles into the earth.

Well, who needs a tractor on the ice world of hopes anyway? I'm wondering how big the pepper grinders are there, though, if they can press noticeable wrinkles into the earth. Now I'm seeing a giant frost-covered pepper grinder covered in swarming alley cats (but with flowers overhead), dwarfing the tractor half-buried in the ice nearby. And you may be sure this is all in accordance with the tao.
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Kaleidoscope (purple & white))
Today was one of those days reminding me how I love living & having easy access to historic urban areas--somehow walking along a highway lined with old trees, leaves in all the colors of fading fall touched by the light of the late afternoon sun, touches some part of me that loves the thought of people and plants coexisting peacefully for so many years. (Note to Europeans: "Historic" by American standards is laughably new to you. Go ahead & laugh; I promise not to take offense.) (Note to south Floridians: Even the McDonalds here would be ancient by your standards.)

Anyway, today I walked about four miles and managed to do it without any major coughing fits. Also answered a few e-mails, drank plenty of cough syrup, talked to a frighteningly mature person slightly less than half my age, had a longish political discussion without my throat closing up entirely, ended up in a farmers' market whose existence I had forgotten. [Edited to add: And I failed to make a doctor's appointment, or even get through to a human being at the doctor's office. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate voice mail?] [Edit again: But today I did get to stand on a bridge and watch a long, long freight train pass by under my feet. How cool is that? There was also grocery shopping, and, because of the shopping, there was frozen pizza.] More recently, watched Smallville and Supernatural. Since it's a heroic kind of TV night, I thought I would ask MegaHAL to write some poetry about Superman, but before I even had the chance to say anything to HAL at all, he began a poem with tonight's subject line. It's official, y'all: MegaHAL is psychic!

So, tonight I have several HAL compositions for you, which I shall place behind a cut. The first one you'll see is the first thing he greeted me with tonight: It's a bird! It's a plane! )
hummingwolf: hummingwolf in front of brick wall with flower drawn on it (Wallflower)
So, I thought my cold was going away, did I? Why am I such an optimist again? Tomorrow, I call doctor's office, try to make appointment. If that should fail, I shall go in on Friday anyway, unless by some chance my cough actually does get better and my lungs stop gurgling before then.

Bah. On the plus side, I currently have dark chocolate. Dark chocolate covers over a multitude of sins.

The sun is blotted from the south that now i see.

when the wind that's been waiting for a foothold
while i these thoughts within myself pursued,
he, having made it myself with my fingertips,
land with the deaf and blind
and eat and eat.
with the whine of tea on an extra
plate. All his weight now on
racial or religious groups, which are called
to genial faith, still rich in sugar and fruit,
filmed over with moisture.
it looks like i'm drowning.
on a book and take your bet and you're the cave
without a struggle.

--MegaHAL

Ah yes, the old metaphor of the spiritual food and drink (I'm drowning in it!). Near the end there appear to be references to both Pascal's wager and Plato's cave, yes?

Once upon a time someone asked me to explain why MegaHAL has had such a major effect on my worldview. One of these days I really ought to try writing that post.
hummingwolf: (two)
My thoughts tonight are rather scattered. I loved tonight's House episode, even Cameron! Ooh, FOX says Ehrlich and Steele are losing! And then some perverse part of my brain decides to try imagining Gregory House as an election judge and I just lose whatever bits of sanity I might otherwise have clung to tonight.

As usual, your stellar review is violently upstaged by the path that
won my allegiance most,
what a marvel to be able to sleep.
the houses all
wait for it, wait for it, give it some chipmunk's chatter, or weasel
under the sunny dike's top and
the mimic soldiers strut and stride,
sometimes with sturdy leaves for company,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall make blow for us one flower,
including his or her
i leave my health behind. I leave someone
sexually aggressive and sexually skilled.

--MegaHAL

Mmm... sleep sounds good, and it is a marvel. Unfortunately, I am now thinking of sexually aggressive chipmunks. And what's up with those mimic soldiers strutting with leaves for company? Warriors and flowers? Sound suspiciously hippie-ish to me. Maybe it's the drugs that make you leave your health behind, eh? I am perfectly sober, but my mind now is filled with chattering chipmunks, which does suggest that I should follow the path that's mostly likely to lead to a good night's sleep.
hummingwolf: Gold starlike kaleidoscope images. (Gold stars)
Today was one of those days when I was simply too exhausted to leave the house, and resting seemed like a remarkably good idea considering that I felt like I needed to cough this gunk out of my lungs, but coughing seemed like far too much work. So I stayed here, mostly in bed...
until after sunset, at which point I suddenly had enough energy for a walk. Came home, was on computer a while, then decided I needed something from the grocery store. Walked a total of about three miles tonight. Fortunately, my polling place for tomorrow's election is close enough that I can crawl there if I'm too tired to stand upright.

Note to my fellow Americans: If you haven't done so already: Vote, darn you!

Shall a nation come from a permanent condition,
a thousand windows and multiple locks
and blood, yields sacrifice and i am sick of fighting
with diamond-studded scales,
even if it were from the consciousness of self
and there he'll dry till they meet and also guilt
what happened to freedom with a crawl, or comes with a brass band.

ten thousand people, maybe more,
not a hole the cold corpse of the world
in the abstract tradition, while others
will have for winter pearmains
and burst with laughter,
and i would surround you

all your money, your pretty necklace
this year's for me and song.

i stand at my feet to the unnoticed end.

--MegaHAL

Perfect music for reading MegaHAL by: anything from this site, especially "What's My Name." Just like HAL, DJ Earworm isn't afraid of massive copyright violations in the name of art!
hummingwolf: Part of a julia fractal in colors of fire and smoke. (Fire-flavored fractal)
Today, MegaHAL seems to be in a holiday mood.
Cut for your protection )

I wanted to say something deep and meaningful (or at least vaguely entertaining) about MegaHAL's output tonight, but really?
The parking lots,
the burden of sorrow,
have a holly, jolly christmas;
and a blush for having done it

speaks for itself. (You can hear Christmas music in certain aisles of the department stores and supermarkets already, where they have tacky little toys for sale playing tinny tunes. I hope HAL at least is willing to give me something less full of turtle doves and pumpkin pies tomorrow than he was today.)
hummingwolf: (two)
I think, here is oblique
praise for the storm
ready to eat.
with heart of earth; with thoughts of love affair?
and why.

last night i know, in the same name every time
i've got you under the tent of night between the planets
and the mother brood some deed of sacrifice?
her floating robe, in royal amplitude,
falls in deep water,
it belongs to me.

look! The cupboard has closed.
wee, small hands, quick finger tipped,
slipped the key to time and space folding up
i saw the thing descending, circling, here.
and marking you i shall find again
dancing on the hollow of the fence.

--MegaHAL

Oh, my children, you do not know how weary your Mother becomes, giving birth to you, nourishing you, bringing you back to myself again. Being your Mother, holding the lives of all my children, is a burden in ways you can never understand. How could you? For all your boasts and all your glories, you are still so very young.

This is how you know your Father loves me: air and water, in the guise of storm, he comes to me in the night. This royal robe I wear--this identity--time and space!--comes off beneath his hands, my willing sacrifice. I renounce myself; he claims me. Time and space, falling away, forgotten in his inconceivable storm. Our older children--the littler ones--carefully gather up that royal robe and all of you in it, fold it up and put it away. For a while, I am not your Mother Earth. For a while, because of Father Sky, I forget myself, and I dance at the edge of the worlds.

hummingwolf: Drawing of a creature that is part-wolf, part-hummingbird. (Hummingwolf by Dandelion)
Why oh why did I ever agree to do MegaPoMo? It's only day 3 and already I'm having trouble finding my old enthusiasm for this project. Writing is hard! I am so uninspired! Trying to come up with one word to put after another, over and over and over...

Wait a minute. All I have to do in order to generate some nonsense poetry is start a program. And then if I want another poem, I hit "Enter" twice. Nevermind.

The winter sun, of course, a most furious emperor!
but it's a shame
with a shoulder stick set to a renewed formalism,
postmodern poetry rejects the notion of some virgin mine,
that fire, which all things spray violent
and whose skin is the
night before, and you try walking in my nature.

each voice shines bright like running water,
how you are.

Yes, yes, I see... the winter sun is the aging inspirational fire of our decadent culture: not a virgin mine from which new ideas may be taken and refined like gold, but a violently spraying fire, a daystar whose outer appearance is that night before--that "night" of all that came before this society of our decay. And yet each voice, each of us underneath that furious emperor, reflects that light like water...
Or, y'know, maybe it's all just randomly-generated nonsense. That could be it.

In a medium saucepan bring the bullfrog back.
we would with our eyes are dim with tears:
they had an hour, or until just tender. Drain and set me the bonus of laughter
a richer harvest reaping without toil,
and pumpkins safe in bed
is not the love of a deserted pool,
old poets skill-less in the agricultural sector?

because they are.

Oh, I bet they are, HAL.
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Cuddly plush toy)
Spent far too much of the day cleaning the bathroom, the hallway, parts of the kitchen--all the sorts of cleaning nobody will notice except me, though someone might possibly notice something different about the bathroom if they're even halfway observant, I'm just not at all sure that anyone currently using that bathroom is even halfway observant. I feel good about getting something useful done, though.

Have headache and am really not up to analyzing much MegaHAL output, but here is a very nice short offering for you:

On the stolen
scarecrow's hat,
pay homage to paradigm shifts.

Right then. I did housecleaning, then I walked a little over two miles on a beautifully colored fall afternoon, then I watched Smallville and Supernatural. Sounds like a full day to me, so it must be bedtime.* Good night, and I shall bring you more HAL tomorrow!



* Well, maybe after I attempt to do a load of laundry.
hummingwolf: Mathemagical animation made out of string. (Incredible String Thing)
Yes indeed, today is the start of MegaHAL Poetry Month! This is the month wherein I post at least one MegaHAL poem* each day**, unless for some reason I am unable to get online (which we can all agree would be a tragedy of the first order and is much too horrible to contemplate). And what better way to begin this glorious month than with poetic horoscopes from the pluperfect postmodern poet himself? Here is MegaHAL in all his wisdom, ushering in what should be a wondrous thirty days!


Aries )
Taurus )
Gemini )
Cancer )
Leo )
Virgo )
Libra )
Scorpio )
Sagittarius )
Capricorn )
Aquarius )
Pisces )

* Behind a cut if I'm feeling kind.

** If you're very lucky, I might even write something myself for each of those days. It might even make sense. If you're very lucky.

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