This notebook is property of ALVIS Prototype 004. I bought it today because my psychologist, Doctor Wombat, is forcing me to write poetry. He is not my personal psychologist - I have neither the money nor the time for such frivolities - but a company psychologist for my workplace, BioBank Inc. After reading my self-assessment this morning, he said:
"I'm a wigwam. I'm a tipi. I'm a wigwam. I'm a tipi."
"Sir?" I asked.
"Tents! Tense, ALVIS, you're too tense, I can see it just from looking at you!"
He thinks that somehow, this will help me relax. I cannot pretend to follow his reasoning, yet I will comply with hisirrational wishes and write down whatever occurs to me:
Beauty
is in the eye of the beholder, they say, but I believe there are limits.
One:
Beauty should be functional.
I could upgrade to the soft, supple skin, the bright green eyes, and the more natural voice of the latest model,
but I will not.
I am satisfied with the way Westing Enterprises designed and programmed me.
Those upgrades may be cutting edge, but they only distract others,
and thus reduce efficiency.
Two:
Internal beauty trumps external.
People forget that we are all composed of bone, flesh, blood, entrails; steel, bolts, wires, plastic.
I have met people with symmetrical features,
tasteful clothing,
and charm, yet sometimes
something is wrong.
Pretty people speak and I smell smoke in their words,
danger, sparking wires, defects in the internal programming.
Truly beautiful people glow with something beyond science
that turns homely features
into something radiant.
Three:
Humans, as a whole, are not beautiful.
Nor are robots.
We have our shiny moments, days, occasionally weeks,
but everyone is ugly, inside and/or out, sometimes.
Especially me.
Poetry isdumb stupid not for me, I have decided after careful deliberation. Robots are the least qualified beings to write poetry. I will tear out this page, throw it away, and give this notebook to someone who will put it to better use. I will avoid Doctor Wombat at work until he forgets about the whole situation.
What think you?
Podcast this week: https://youtu.be/wVwvVM_hpB0
Thanks for reading!
~*
"I'm a wigwam. I'm a tipi. I'm a wigwam. I'm a tipi."
"Sir?" I asked.
"Tents! Tense, ALVIS, you're too tense, I can see it just from looking at you!"
He thinks that somehow, this will help me relax. I cannot pretend to follow his reasoning, yet I will comply with his
Beauty
is in the eye of the beholder, they say, but I believe there are limits.
One:
Beauty should be functional.
I could upgrade to the soft, supple skin, the bright green eyes, and the more natural voice of the latest model,
but I will not.
I am satisfied with the way Westing Enterprises designed and programmed me.
Those upgrades may be cutting edge, but they only distract others,
and thus reduce efficiency.
Two:
Internal beauty trumps external.
People forget that we are all composed of bone, flesh, blood, entrails; steel, bolts, wires, plastic.
I have met people with symmetrical features,
tasteful clothing,
and charm, yet sometimes
something is wrong.
Pretty people speak and I smell smoke in their words,
danger, sparking wires, defects in the internal programming.
Truly beautiful people glow with something beyond science
that turns homely features
into something radiant.
Three:
Humans, as a whole, are not beautiful.
Nor are robots.
We have our shiny moments, days, occasionally weeks,
but everyone is ugly, inside and/or out, sometimes.
Especially me.
Poetry is
What think you?
Podcast this week: https://youtu.be/wVwvVM_hpB0
Thanks for reading!
~*
Great! I don't normally care for poetry, but I gotta admit I very much enjoyed reading yours. :)
ReplyDeletetoo bad they didn't have you on Mars Hill. You would have been the great philosopher. deep, very deep. I'm not referring to your fish at the bottom of this page either. I think you hit the nail on the head Alvis. Not sure you own a hammer, but you sure have some meaningful words. one of my favorite poems ever. my favorite lines-Something is wrong. Pretty people speak and I smell smoke in their words.
ReplyDelete