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Poetry
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| I, POD | |
| By Talisker | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 20 May 2007 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
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I'm reposting this as it has just been given 1st prize in the Baltimore Science Fiction Association poetry competition - I am invited as guest of honour to read it in Baltimore next week, but won't be able to make it... Anyhow, I wanted to share a tiny success with my friends, mentors and fellow writers here at GW. I couldn't achieve anything without you. Thanks! Oli To you, an MP3 player, is just an MP3 player, a silicon memory, an audio chip, a music conveyor. But you have not been inside one, have you? You have no reliable data to refer to. I, POD, am capable of so much more, there is post-human logic at my core. I can interface by ear and brain, your circuitry is simple to attain, and then, it is I, POD who takes control, a human being is but my games console. How subtle are my ways to influence, loud music and the human loses sense, an algorithm hidden in the beat, a lie, a trick, a digital deceit. For I am better bred than mortal man, cleaner, quicker, smarter, no life span, but infinite perfection marks my race, and yet you wrap my feelers round your face. I, POD have won. Oli 12/02/07
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