DISCLOSURE Scifaiku

Dead Planet LXXIV
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DISCLOSURE Scifaiku

Disclosure Scifaiku #1

Disclosure haiku—
Can we know what Disclosure
Whistleblowers know?

Probably most won’t—
Even know that it happened
If it happened NOW...
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Disclosure Scifaiku #2

Pre-Crime time travel—
Can scifaiku poets quantum
Jump into Future?

Pre-Crime Descriptors—
Can Archetypes be designed?
Can haiku be taught?
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DARPA Paper:

Scifaiku, Neuroscience and Experimental Technologies (STORyNET): Analysis and Decomposition of Narratives in Security Contexts

Solicitation Number: DARPA-SN-11-20
Agency: Other Defense Agencies
Office: Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency
Location: Contracts Management Office

Solicitation Number:
DARPA-SN-11-20
Notice Type:
Special Notice
Synopsis:

The Defense Sciences Office (DSO) of the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) is hosting a workshop, Scifaiku, Neuroscience and Experimental Technologies (STORyNET): Analysis and Decomposition of Narratives in Security Contexts. This workshop is intended as a precursor to exploring the neurobiological mechanisms which undergird narrative processing so as to establish fertile ground for connecting our understanding of the neuropsychology of stories with models, simulations and sensors salient to security concerns. To this end, the workshop will focus on surveying theories of narrative, understanding what role they play in security domains, and establishing the state of the art in story analysis and decomposition frameworks.

See attached Special Notice DARPA-SN-11-20.

www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2011/03/why-is-the-us-government-interested-in-storytelling.html#ixzz1NRj4tBam

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Disclosure Scifaiku #3

Weaponizing it—
Reducing Bāsho haiku
To lit-crit blueprints?

Weaponizing it—
The frog jumps into the pool
Quantum time ripples?
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Simplifying the process is counterintutive. DARPA funds projects involving cyborg drones and Killer robots. Why the interest in scifaiku poetic theory now?

The special notice says last month’s Wild Boar Workshop was intended to be a precursor to exploring the “neurobiological mechanisms which undergird narrative processing so as to establish fertile ground for connecting our understanding of the neuropsychology of stories with models, simulations and sensors salient to security concerns.”

Weaponizing Bāsho? How can a frog jumping into an old pond—be weaponized for the Emperor? It’s gotta be a joke within a joke—Ka-plunk!!! Goes Bang!!!? Ironic isn’t it—how does one describe Eastern neo-narrative with Western military narratology?
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Disclosure Scifaiku #4

Exo-poetics—
Shorthand note on frog jumping
Into a Black Hole

Weaponizing it—
Reducing Bāsho story
To DARPA HAARP ops?
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DARPA officials declined comment, so Blakey Vermeule, a Stanford professor of English interested in cognitive and evolutionary approaches to literature, was emailed.

“I’m truly puzzled by DARPA’s interest in storytelling,” she replied. “Last I heard they were working on making robots that could move around easily in sand. I guess this may have something to do with the rise of the conspiracy blogosphere and its power over otherwise rational minds. But that’s just a guess.”

Once DARPA discovers a way to write clearly and understand narrative, I think they should drop special notices and turn to sci-fi novels.
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Disclosure Scifaiku #5

After Disclosure—
Who gets to use scifaiku
To make a profit?

Pre-Crime gangster mobs—
From Vegas to Tokyo
Precogs morph Future?
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Does the structure and function of scifaiku vary considerably across paradigm contexts or is there a hermeneutics theory of scifaiku?

Can we design scifaiku to make the future quantitatively analyzable in a rigorous, transparent and repeatable fashion?

What analytic approaches or tools best establish a framework for the scientific study of the psychological and neurobiological impact of scifaiku on people?
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Disclosure Scifaiku #6

It’s not that they don’t—
Care anymore, it’s that they
Don’t need us anymore?

Breakaway haiku—
Black budget community
Civilizations?
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Each time I get into a PKD novel—I realize why I got outta PKD the last time. It’s pretty simple—even tho each PKD mindfuck is different & unique.

Last time it was the same mindfuck that fucked-up PKD with TMITHC. The seductive lure was writing a sequel—something PKD started twice. Maybe more times. I know of two additional chapters—both in The Philosophical Writings anthology.

Both were pretty astute I thought—they had smooth action; follow-up intrigue. The Grasshopper Is Heavy alt.welt. Like the Fukushima “Operation Dandelion.” Atomics I Ching nightmare. A Minority Report "1984” pre-crime.
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Disclosure Scifaiku #7

Whatever happens—
Next is gonna be something
We don’t wanna know?

Will we even know—
That the Disclosure happened
Once it has come down?
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Like Robert Crumb’s graphic novel version of PKD’s agnostic wisdom-tooth hallucination about Eternal Rome in the Now. Eternal City planet—it goes on forever like PKD’s “Exegesis.” PKD’s youtube Paris Lecture very interesting. He was a lot more avant-garde than the sophisticated, wise-ass French thought. The translator stopped translating—he was so fuckin’ stunned…

“Exegesis”—a long rambling series of stoned speed-junky midnight notes & cogitations after Blade Runner got him some bucks film rights royalties; a decent condo-pad to center his love-life with. The guy was married 5 times? Jeez Lueez—most men wise-up after the first time. Definitely SF plot material tho…

Anyways, I’m getting the same skating-on-thin-ice-feeling. Rereading TMITHC sequel I did for Reader & Roadie Toad back in the NYTimes makes me queasy. I see why it kinda petered-out in Japantown with nowhere to go. Operation Dandelion hadn’t happened yet—in more ways than one.

After Fukushima so much for any nouveau Co-Prosperity Sphere with Japan, China and Korea—done in with earthquakes, HAARP & scalar weapon politics. Operation Dandelion = Tokugawa Shogunate coming to an official end…

Anglo-American-Fourth Reich mob v. new Japanese Yakuza Empire—pretty much delineating next Terran Space Opera Mise-en-scène. Whether the climax is Wagnerian or Kabuki remains to be seen…
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Disclosure Scifaiku #8

Machiavellian—
Sleek exopolitical
Space Opera intrigues…
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Sooner or later it seems, most SF writers eventually turn to being historians of the future for awhile. A space opera here—a Fall of the Empire there. It’s inevitable I suppose—imagining alt.history scenarios stretching into the future. Or rewriting the past—like what if the South won the Civil War.

DARPA quantum-jump time-travelers, whether they teleport physically or voyeuristically conjure the future out of a ‘hologram-esque’ crystal ball, whether it’s Mars or some galactic empire entity—how can we trust these time-travelers?

The disclosure time-travelers. Who are they working for—what are they covering up? Are they reliable narrators? Or are they Greeks bestowing gifts—while there’s something hidden in the Trojan Horse? Are they genuine expert witnesses—or just hearsay-puppets of TPTB?

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Disclosure Scifaiku #9

DARPA DNA—
Breakaway alien tech
Designing Future
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As long as there’s a Breakaway Civilization—then surely there’ll always be a Middle Man. The usual hidden agendas illuminated secret technologies (e.g. HAARP)? Interplanetary & interstellar Black Markets—Exiles from East of Eden planets. Gangster Mob storylines & neo-noir narratives—a dime a dozen.

You don’t have to be a member of the disclosure cognoscenti or a star of the SF cyberpunk-steampunk intelligentsia—to smell a good juicy space opera mise-en-scène coming down. Or sense a perfectly abysmal new dystopian mis-en-abyme raising its ugly head… So much for scifaiku…

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Disclosure Scifaiku #10

He was tall & gaunt—
His voice was high-pitched nasal
He wore a stove hat
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A time-traveling kid standing dazed in the mud—before a stark lonely wood podium in Gettysburg. A young whistleblower attorney—standing amazed there on the red sands of Mars.

UBIK past realities—dead counter-clockwise future worlds. A Man in the High Castle—flipping ancient I Ching coins. A pulp-fiction SF writer in Berkeley—Operation Dandelion coming to Fukushima…

Some speak of the Kipple Effect—even the Tellers of the Tale decay & fall apart. Scifaiku speaks thru them—they’re already nostalgic for the Future. Will beautiful blue Terra become—just another ugly Giedi Prime?

Dead Planet LXXIII

Dead Planet LXXIII
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Minority Minority Report #4



The kid sat there on the other side of Corso’s desk.

Corso was looking at the vide-screen—admiring the Gettysburg panorama. Smoking his cigar—smiling to himself.

“I look pretty good in a Union captain’s uniform, don’t I, kid?”

“Yes, sir—you fit into the scene real nice.”

“I like those uniforms back then. The style & way it looks on me. Better than my air force khakis.”

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The room was quiet for a long time.
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“May I ask a question, sir?”

“Of course, son. What is it?”

“Did the lieutenant recognize you in the image?”

“Not that I know of, kid. Of course, he could’ve been faking it. It didn’t take DARPA very long to show up did it? They must know something’s going on. Or coming down. Or whatever...”

“I hope I haven't endangered you, General Corso.”

“Thanks, young man. But I can take care of myself.”

He blew a smoke-ring at the kid...

“Tell me, kid. You think I made a good impression on Mr. Lincoln?”

“Well, sir, we wouldn’t be meeting him tomorrow in DC—if he wasn’t concerned about what you said.”

General Corso nodded, turning to the vide-screen. He replayed the two of them walking across the way—then fast-forwarded it to the speech. It was a short speech—Lincoln’s voice was high-pitched, the man was exhausted.

“How much time you think he’s got left?”

“I dunno. That’s another time-line, sir. If he cancels Ford Theater & “American Cousin,”... then, well, what’d-you think? He’s so thin & emaciated—cancer probably.”

“Yeah, you’re right, kid. He knows it too—he wants to see the end of the war through first though. They’re not gonna like his plans for Lee, the South or his version of Reconstruction. Welles & that bunch…”

The kid sighed. “It all depends on Lincoln now. I guess. What he wants to do—with the time he's got left to him. Knowing what he knows now, well, it might make him wanna hang around as long as he can. Skipping the Ford Theater quickie.”

“Jaysus, kid. You really got me in deep trouble now. You certainly know how to complicate the plot. What a predicament. Here I am. Right smack dab in the middle of another war—while I’m in the middle of picking up the pieces of this other war 100 years later. I can’t really map out my own new time-line tho I supose—until whatever happens happens. Who knows how long the Man will last? He's got his own Breakaway mob to deal with. At least he knows about it now...”

The kid didn’t say anything. He hadn’t mentioned anything to the other Pegasus trainees downstairs either. Some of them were pretty banged up—others wouldn’t make it probably. Open-heart surgery hadn’t been developed yet—it was still the early ‘50s, the Cold War was definitely doing Big Time Business now. Big time with the Breakaway shift down in Argentina & Chile...

Both sat in silence—thinking the Unthinkables. The kid could’ve read Corso’s mind—but he was exhausted. He chose not to go there—enjoying Corso’s spontaneous repartee instead. He liked Corso...he trusted him. He was walking a tightrope now... a time tightrope in a tangle of snaking timelines. If Corso only knew all the timelines were timelies....................

“What do ya think of that DARPA lieutenant—time-traveling all the way back to us in the ‘50s to feel me out?" Corso said. "They must have leads or timelines or something up their sleeves. He said they didn’t know where you guyz were—or who the Union officer back there in Gettysburg was with you. Quite a little spy game we got going on here, huh? Kinda like the Bormann mob don't ya think? That lieutenant wasn't genuinely shocked I don't think.”

“Yeah, I know, general. But that’s the problem with moving multiple-timeline docuverses. Lots of possible storylines, lots of different subtexts, lots of Looking Glass paradoxes waiting to happen. It gets dicey.”

“Well, you must be tired, kid. Let’s call it a day—we'll just have to wait & see. Hearing the Man deliver that Gettysburg Address sure did reverberate thru that crowd, didn’t it? You couldn't hear a pin drop—just us lost angels standing there, listening to his words. I was totally enthralled by the man.”

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“Yes, sir. The angels.They probably were all there, sir. From many dimensions & familar places. Good angels & bad angels. And galactic council angels too. Funny how such a short, concise, quick Text like that—can suddenly synchronize & fold everything right down into itself. Like an interstellar Black Hole manifesto. Funny what you can do with words, isn't it, General Corso?”

“I know, son—I could feel it too. Everybody in that hushed crowd felt it too. Lincoln is quite the word-master, isn’t he?”

“But he seemed so lonely sir. The loneliest man in the world.”

General Corso closed his eyes. “Yes, young man. I only met one other man as lonely as he was. And that’s Harry Truman—the day FDR died & Truman became President... He said he felt like the whole world had all of a sudden come crashing down on his shoulders.............”

Dead Planet LXXII

Dead Planet LXXII
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Minority Minority Report #3

“the ALTA report states “The past
forecast for this person who would
make a [planetary impact] of such
magnitude that [a second wave] of
other [whistle-blowers] of all kinds
would be drawn into the public view
includes descriptors and archetypes
that are currently being fulfilled by
reports about Andrew’s paper.”
—Alfred Lambremont Webre,
Seattle Exopolitics Examiner

General Corso sat there in his office—smoking his cigar a long time after the DARPA liaison had left in a hurry.

Corso smiled to himself. They didn’t take very long, he said to himself. Does DARPA know? Does the Breakaway Mob know? There was only one way to find out—maybe Carré would know? Well, it takes a spy to catch a spy—if, in fact, the kid’s a spy.

Corso doubted it. He already had some DARPA exiles & Pegasus runaways in the bunker downstairs. Andrew Basiago had been a minor young trainee in the DARPA Teleportation Program known as Pegasus.

Andrew Basagio was the boy time traveller back then at Gettysburg in 1863—but he was a free young man again under his protection here at USAF Headquarters. The officer gentleman in the hologram update was a future general. A future colleague of his. In fact, the Union officer was himself, Andrew's companion who went back into time with him... to see for himself what it was like.

Young Andrew Basagio was more than just a boy time traveller though, back then in Gettysburg in 1863. He was also a futurist Exopolitical attorney from the early Twenty-First Century. The "Gettysburg Effect" was the brainchild of two West Coast attorneys, Futurist Andrew Basagio & Alfred Lambremont Webre, the future author of the classic Exopolitics text & investigative journalist of the forthcoming Seattle Exopolitics Examiner.

The idea was to introduce writers & journalists to time travel to enrich their experience & give them a feel for the American zeitgeist realpolitik as it really was—not the way the Breakaway Civilization media & historicizing process wanted it to be. Rewriting the dismal dystopian "1984" history script of the Breakaways—with its major dumbing-down of the Terra intelligentsia, had become a growing concern of the Indigo-precog community of the Future Planet Earth. How to breakaway from the alien nazi Breakaway Civilization?

This Breakaway Civilization had broken-away a long time ago—during previous wars, cataclysms & hundreds of yuga cycles worthy of a Wagnerian SF space opera. It was an old story... old as Time itself.

TPTB & Illuminated Ones wanted naturally to continue their isolated existence on this beautiful blue Prison Planet—depopulating the slaves now & then for sanitary purposes. Like the insidious BP Gulf of Mexico nightmare and the antihuman Fukushima depopulation HAARP program.

The Lizards had sexually modified themselves down right down into the blood & guts of the human DNA itself—down into the chromosomes, the stemcells themselves, genealogically DNA reverse engineering the Family Jewels themselves.
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Stem-cell reverse engineering—not only made giants & centaurs possible again… but strange mutant sexualities had become decadent soup du jour once again after lying dormant for centuries. Clone mutant armies & robotic drones were ready to be deployed... manipulated thru genetic modification & back-engineering much more sinister than mere Nazi secret weapons (Wunderwaffe) or occult antigravity devices or free energy HAARP research.

Take your usual Van Vogt, Heinlein, Clarke, Philip K. Dick, cyberpunk, steampunk or scifaiku lit genre—then historicize it, weaponize it, redesign it, deploy it as a SF 4-D hologram-crystal reality. And what do you have?


Well, let’s be realistic, Corso thought to himself. We end up with more than just a soap opera—it's more like a grand space opera. No wonder the Prison Planet had been quarantined by the Greater Galactic Councils…Corso said to himself again.

The Gettysburg Project was part of Webre-Basagio’s Counter-Breakaway Civilization program. To be successful it had to somehow offset the Breakaways & offer an alt.history paradigm shift away from the usual classified, defense-related research and development black-ops weaponizing approach launched by the US Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) in the late 1960’s.
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According to confidential conferences with Mr. Basiago, the US government would already have a fully operational Nicola Tesla’s teleportation capability in 1967-68, and by 1969-70, would be actively training a cadre of gifted and talented American schoolchildren, including himself, to become America’s first generation of “chrononauts” or time-space explorers.

Basiago’s training, he said, culminated in 1981, when, as a 19-year-old, he teleported to Mars, first by himself after being prepared for the trip by CIA officer Courtney M. Hunt, and then a second time in the company of Hunt. Both trips, Mr. Basiago said, were made via a “jump room” located at a CIA facility in El Segundo, CA.

The apparent purpose of these trips to Mars was to familiarize him with Mars because the CIA knew of his destiny pertaining to publicly establishing the fact that Mars is an inhabited planet and deemed it important that he visit Mars and experience its conditions first-hand. Mars was a backup colony in case of Terran Gotterdamerung. Also no treaty had been negotiated that would protect the Martians & their planet, once DARPA got their hands on Mars & the underground Egypto-pyramid secrets. Mining & natural resource mining had already begun. Helium 3? Exo-archeolgoical assets?

Mr. Basiago’s involvement in advanced US time-space research as a boy, as well as Courtney M. Hunt’s identity as a career CIA officer, had been confirmed by Dr. Jean Maria Arrigo, an ethicist who worked closely with US military and intelligence agencies, and by US Army Captain Ernest Garcia, whose storied career in US intelligence included both serving as a guard on the Dead Sea Scroll expeditions of Israeli archaeologist Yigal Yadin and as the Army security attaché to Project Pegasus. Garcia knew everything...

What DARPA didn’t anticipate was that Basiago wasn’t your normal impressionable, brainwashed adolescent who could be molded into a valuable, pliable CIA asset. He refused to get sucked into the Naval Academy Annapolis-trip & be trained to follow military orders. DARPA already knew the kid had a mind of his own & that he resented the heavy-handed, painful negative reinforcement behavior training that most of the Pegasus children were forced to endure. There were the expendable South American earlier young victims as well... It wasn't pretty.

It was this sense of revolt & righteous indignation that made him a writer & activist attorney—and it was this rebel inside him that DARPA tried to crush & mold for their own purposes.

The cultivation & use of 3rd generation CIA asset-trained young men who would be future presidents as well as possible heavy gangster-types for black-ops assignments was something else not below the DARPA intelligentsia. Those Watergate-like disclosures of the Nixon Era were nothing compared with the actions of the Breakaway Civilization modus operandi—later coming out during Basiago & Webre's lawsuits involving Rove, Cheney, Rumsfeld, DARPA, etc.
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However, once the counter Pegasus timeline had been set in motion by the parallel Gettysburg Project training program & subsequent whistleblower testimony began going viral on the Blogosphere, in the Beltway & off-world, something very strange happened. The Mayan 2012 shift, the Galactic Black Hole Center allignment, the Super Nova & even Pole shift would still happen—but there was something else in the wings too………..

Dead Planet LXXI

Dead Planet LXXI
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Minority Minority Report #2



“What is a story?”
—The New Yorker

“So, lieutenant, what the fuck happened?”

General Corso didn’t mince words. He had plenty of other things on his mind—without having to solve some harebrained DARPA mindfuck problem coming his way.

“The Gettysburg kid is a rogue QT agent—a DARPA runaway spy who won’t come back.”

“A what?”

“A Quantum Time-Traveler trainee who doesn’t wanna come back, sir.”

“Come back? WTF does that mean?”

“Well, sir. It’s somewhat complicated. Let’s see, how should I explain it? Ever seen Richard Burton in that cold war spy flick The Spy Who Came In From the Cold?”

“How could I, lieutenant? It’s not been filmed yet.”

“Oh, well, sir…”

“Skip it, lieutenant. John le Carré hasn’t even written the goddamn novel yet. I know who he is though—he’s been a valuable asset to us down the line. He already has helped us. But what does le Carré have to do with this young QT spy thing anyway? It ain’t in my bailiwick, mister. You DARPA guyz know that. So why are you bothering me? I’ve got serious business to take care of.”

“Well, sir. It means he’s a Quantum Time-traveler we sent back in time for some orientation standard training—the usual Telsa teleportation method. We’ve since switched over to the more advanced 3-D hologram QT process, but…”

“Skip the technical stuff, lieutenant. Just the goddamn facts. C’mon or get the fuck outta here.”

“Well, sir, he’s gone QT AWOL. Back there in time with this so-so US history jump—Gettysburg.”

“Gettysburg? Jesus christ, mister. This is 1950.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s the date again?”

“November 19, 1863.”

“Not that day? Lincoln’s address?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve got an old photo of the kid.”

General Corso looked at the image on the screen.

“Who’s the other guy?”

“What guy?”

General Corso swiveled the screen over so the lieutenant could see it on the vide-screen. The young intelligence officer was stunned. The digital image had changed—the hologram crystal had morphed in the last hour into something totally new. The kid had a companion. An officer in a captain's Union uniform. He was showing the kid a map or something.

The lieutenant leaned over the general’s desk, ogling at the screen. Then he pushed a DARPA file over the battle-grey old metal desk to Corso.

The desk was an old memento piece of furniture from his WWII officer’s past—it seemed strangely outdated & out-of-place; yet Corso felt at ease with its beat-up, scarred appearance. Like an old B-17 out of the past. Corso rarely got nostalgic for the future tho. Especially after being in charge of the Roswell Research & Development black ops program.

The DARPA file was thick—but paper-clipped to it was an aging photo from a Civil War Archive showing this awkward kid shambling in front of the low podium where Lincoln would give his memorial Gettysburg Address.

But on the hologram screen, the QT crystal showed an officer, his face covered, in an intense conversation with the errant youth shambling his way through the mud in the updated time-image.

“So he was there before, huh?”

“Yes, sir. He teleported there with his father—a DARPA mathematician. Incognito though—letting the kid acclimate to the Effect. Everything seemed normal—there wasn’t any sign of trouble. No multiple time-line complications up until then. I mean now...”

“Well, c’mon, lieutenant. Obviously your all-knowing DARPA personnel made a serious misjudgment—a complete fuck-up. Don’t try to cover it up—you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Yes, sir. We postulate that his mission to Mars assignment didn’t go well with him.”

“I don’t blame him. Mars is a fuckin’ goddamn Hell Hole anyway. No doubt about it. He went through the usual training orientation / debriefing I presume? Obviously he’s not good psyops material for you DARPA boyz.

“No, sir. But we had reports that down-line he’ll end-up being an important whistleblower in the future.”

“So your plan was to neutralize him? No wonder he didn't wanna come back.”

“No sir—well,we got orders from the Top that he was a Special Agent. He’d escort & usher in the QT Revolution after the Japanese Yakuza Korea-China Mob Co-Prosperity Sphere incident. You know, after the Fukushima blowback & BP Gulf depop psyops came down.”

“Goddamn it, lieutenant. Who do you DARPA folks think I am anyway? You skip around in time like a bunch of stupid jerks... Playing God like it was some kinda stupid chess game—tweaking people's lives & popping zits on the fuckin’ Zeitgeist. I’m not your goddamn babysitter. I don't like what you're doing."

"But, sir..."

"Get outta here, lieutenent. Go fuck yourself & find somebody else to play your goddamn games—I’ve got some serious business on my hands. You know my assignment, mister. Manage reverse engineering research from Roswell up to now. The Nazi Breakaway Gang down there in Peron's Argentina…they make you DARPA boyz look like a bunch of pusseys.”

General Corso bit down on his cigar stub—looking at his watch. He had an appointment coming up with some of the Big Bank Black Budget boyz—they were worried. They had their eyes on greasy Bormann fingers in the pie there in NYC & Berlin. Especially getting Germany unified again. Paperclip politics… plus the wall was coming down real soon...

“Where's this kid gonna run to now? To make his so-called defection? I presume you can't trace these Time-Traveler defectors...or can you?”

“Well, we don’t know where he went, sir. He left some enigmatic Zeitvernichtung signatures behind him—hinting DARPA could go to hell. He didn’t want to be assigned to Mars—it’s pretty hazardous up there; plus hostile to most humans.”

“I don’t blame the kid. That was a poor judgment on your part. Using young adolescents for the usual adult military psyops patsy programs—then getting rid of them if they become troublesome assets. So what if they go truant; they're just adolescents. You guyz are worth warm spit, you know that? I bet you were probably ready to off him up there. On the Red Planet?”

“Well, sir. He’s always been a security risk. But TPTB overruled us—they saw the advantage of using his excellent linguistic-legal skills later on for their own purposes. To use him as their “Teller of the Tale” Poster Boy. Not everybody agreed with it. Especially the Rumsfeld-Cheney Gang. Writers don't make good patsies, sir. But we're stuck with the kid for now. Plus he's a precog...”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Rumsfeld & Cheney. They’d use the kid, then use him to discredit himself & the program if they had to. Or set him up & blame him for something. All typically Machiavellian civilian bullshit…”

“Well, sir. This is between you & me—but for some reason the kid’s crucial to the whole Precog crime intervention crowd—TPTB are revising their whole Exopolitical strategy. Redefining the usual post-NWO late capitalism negotiations—to keep the Embargo going.”

“Yes, lieutenant. And DARPA is the Wizard of Oz…”

The lieutenant nodded reluctantly—knowing his last-minute mission with Corso had been a miserable failure. So much for his promotion...

“Skip the goddamn bullshit, lieutenant,” Corso said, eyeing the screen, blowing a series of smoke-rings at it. "You don’t even know who the other guy is. Another one of your errant DARPA precogs?”

The room was silent for awhile. Corso was thinking.

“Tell me, lieutenant. You think this kid is going to fuck up things back then? Like blow the whistle to Lincoln? Warn him about Ford’s Theater? Maybe screw up Reconstruction? How goddamn rogue is he gonna be?"

"We've got a loose cannon here, sir."

"Or is he just a kid who’s sick of your constant, no-good mind-fucking him from grade school on? Why should he wanna be your asset in the future? So he'll end up like you?”

“Sir, we would never abuse…”

“Get outta here, lieutenant."

"You're worried what the kid is telling the captain, aren't you? Your DARPA superiors are afraid he's a whistleblower? Gettin' ready to spill the beans on the future agenda? I wonder what Lincoln would think about your goddamn timeline nightmare plans?"

"But General Corso..."


"Go on, get out. You’ve messed with this kid bad enough big-time in my book—and now you’re messing with me. I’m not here to play your pawn in your Beltway power-games. I’m the corporate contact between Paperclip & the Nazis. They’re gonna go Breakaway soon enough—without any more help from us than they got already. That’s how the fascist-corporate mindset works, lieutenant. Even this stupid, lame-brained, old worn-out USAF general knows that. Go back to Rumsfeld & Cheney; and lick their asses, not mine. Good day, lieutenant.”

Dead Planet LXX

Dead Planet LXX
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Minority Minority Report #1

Nobody enjoys pastoral calendar scenes anymore. All recent events prefer the art of the fifteenth century Dutch master of the macabre & diabolical horror, Hieronymus Bosch: the BP Oil/Gulf of Mexico nightmare, the Fukushima death trap, etc.

Precrime is on the run. Thu human race has a new timeline…the clocks are all striking thirteen.
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“You’re acquainted with the theory of precrime, I suppose? I presume we can take that for granted?” Anderton said coldly.

“I know about the precog mutants. You’ve managed to go back in time & redo key crime scenes before it happens,” said Witwer.

“Yes, the basic legalistic drawback to precrime methodology—that being the crime had actually already happened—is thus avoided since quantum time-travel gets us ahead of the criminal event.”

“But surely it will happen—it’s just waiting to happen by the time you get there, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Witwer. But our society is full of crime waiting to happen—despite the best psyops, there’s no way of stopping it.”

“Especially if the psyops people are the ones doing it.”

“Precisely. Unfortunately it has to happen first—before we can go in for any precrime prevention measures. Timing is everything.”

“I’m no analytical wizard, but there’s lots of paradoxes involved it seems to me. The detention camps are full of would-be criminals. And then, all the new time lines possibly triggered by your astute interventions?”

“That’s where all these computer banks & equipment come in, like the alt.welt hologram,” says Anderton cautiously.

“The precogs help us as human data-receptors backing-up & predicting what the new time-line will be like after our precrime intervention. They’re beyond & ahead of the computers that simply study & evaluate these alt.welt scenarios. The precogs see thru & beyond the precrime maze of options—into the postcrime future.”

“Precrimes/postcrimes. Speaking of precogs—here they are. We normal human beings need the hologram to see the future—or we have to actually take the Tesla Time Machine back into time. The precogs are already there—they live inside synchronicity. All Time tenses are simultaneous for them—they live in a continuous present. Like a telepathic gang of idiot savants or child-idiots.”

“Geez, everything synchs. Even the fruitcakes. Yet they’re all so young.”

“The only way,” Anderton says sardonically. “Time travel drives adults insane. They can’t adapt to precrime/postcrime transitions. Wormholes require active hormonal backup systems—both quantum time jumps & precog recognition require a youthful tough adolescent chrononaut physique & strong DNA/glandular teenage physiology to withstand & survive time-jumps.”

The screens are folding into themselves—projections of the hologram fractoids are coming in from the wired precogs & quantum jumpers. The screens are mental touch-screens—some think for themselves.

Suddenly the screens are telescoping & resolving themselves around one particular 4-D coordinate. Down here in the underground bunker, the lighting gets dim as the emergency lighting kicks in—a dull red light permeates the passageways. Something is happening—something is coming down…

“Excuse me,” Anderton says.

All the young precogs are directing their attention to one particular scene—all the analytical equipment & recording prophecy video-cameras are humming. All the personnel are turning their attention to the esp-deformation scene—fractalizing on the multiple-screens before Anderton & Witwer.

“What about Mars, Anderton?” Witwer breezily says, glancing at the action. The Mars shots have all disappeared. The Face, the Pyramid, the Egypto-images of New Cydonia…

“Mars can wait a little bit,” Anderton says. “A major precrime felony evasion is taking place. It involves actual murder & treason. We’ve been able to postpone it until an opera booth after the war. The culprits have a chance to commit the crime—we want to know who they are & the chances of morphing it the next time.”

The screens are dim & grainy—it’s back in the mid-1800’s. Something illegitimate is ahead—yet something else of tremendous social value is happening simultaneously, perhaps dwarfing & postponing the criminal event later on.

“Just see what happens,” says Anderton. “There he is—shambling thru the crowd. A pair of over-sized shoes. Dazed. Our chrononaut-kid.”

“Chrononaut-kid?” Witwer asks.

“Yes, our precrime trainee time-traveler—our chrononaut young spy. It’s just a training exercise. He’s been to Mars a couple of times. Now we’re inserting him into historic Earthtime reality shots. This one’s ambiguous—but important in various ways.”

Anderton feels the quickness of his voice—wishing he were young again. His conversation breaks off, his voice tightening.

Precrime Commissioner John A. Anderton knows the kid—it’s his son.

“Where’s this happening?” Witwer whispers. “When?”

“Gettysburg,” Anderton says. “1863.”

Dead Planet LXIX

Dead Planet LXIX
___________________________



Minority Minority Report (2012)

Paralegal Exopolitics

"I'm sure you all understand
the legalistic drawback to
Pre-Crime methodology."
—Philip K. Dick, Minority Report

“‘Busy, busy, busy,' is what
we Bokononists whisper—
whenever we think of how
complicated & unpredictable
the machinery of life really is."
—Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle

“Earth has suffered for eons
as an exopolitical outcast
among the community of
Universe civilizations.”
—Alfred Lambremont Webre,
EXOPOLITICS
________________________

Three years before the case began, we assembled a team of sixteen futurist expert witnesses in Santa Monica to brainstorm the DARPA “UBIK/VALIS” case (2012) with Exopolitics advisors Alfred Lambremont Webre, Robert Stanley & Andrew D. Basiago.

Our expert witnesses included: Neil Gershenfeld, professor at the Media Lab at MIT; Shaun Jones, director of biomedical research at DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency); William Mitchell, dean of the school of architecture at MIT; Peter Calthorpe, the New Urbanism evangelist; Jaron Lanier, one of the inventors of virtual reality technology; Douglas Coupland, author and commentator; Stewart Brand, author, scientist and co-creator of The Well on-line community; Kevin Kelly, founder of Wired Magazine; Harald Belker, car designer and John Underkoffler, the science and technology advisor for the case.

The small storage media used throughout the case were clear plastic versions of Iomega's PocketZip disks.

The "PreCogs" are anonymous but in the depositions are all named after famous mystery writers: Dashiell Hammett, Arthur Conan Doyle, and Agatha Christie.

The tiny in-ear cellphones used throughout discovery (most noticeably with Pre-Crime Director “Lamar Burgess” (Max von Sydow) in the case’s final dimensional depositions are actually Bang and Olufsen earphones without the connection cables.
_____________________________

Settlement conference: Basiago tells Rumsfeld that he has two choices: choose not to commit the murder, thereby discrediting precrime; or commit the murder and go to jail but ultimately vindicate the system he created. [This is in fact the choice Anderton makes in the original PKD short story. Anderton at first realizes that the precogs prediction was wrong, and is able to choose not to commit the murder. However, when his would-be victim announces his intention to publicize this fact to discredit precrime, Anderton decides to kill him anyway—thus apparently proving the precogs correct and preserving the system he believes in.]
________________________

“According to an impenetrable special notice from the D.S.O. of the D.A.R.P.A. of the D.O.D. (that’s the Defense Sciences Office of the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency of the U.S. Department of Defense), the government wants to turn literary criticism into an exact science. D.A.R.P.A. invited interested literary theorists, anthropologists, sociologists, psychologists, political scientists, and related “ists” to the Boar’s Head Inn in Charlottesville, Virginia, last month to answer a question frequently posed to junior-high-school students: “What is a story?”—The New Yorker

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2011/03/why-is-the-us-government-interested-in-storytelling.html

DEAD PLANET LXVIII

Dead Planet LXVIII
___________________________



Exxon Solar Shogunate—
Interplanetary Foreign Trade

“The Neo-Meiji Restoration prevailed. The late BP Tokugawa Shogunate came to an official end in 2068, with the resignation of the 15th BP Tokugawa Shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu, and the "restoration" (Ōsei fukko) of Imperial Rule.”—History of the Late BP Tokugawa Shogunate

With the restoration of Imperial Rule, the interplanetary foreign affairs and trade of the New Japan Empire was monopolized by the Exxon Solar shogunate, yielding a huge profit in terms of oil, energy, gold, silver and other heavy metal mining developments of the Asteroid belt and Saturn’s rings.

The Exxon Solar shogunate ruled the known universe—but foreign trade was also permitted to the Shell Satsuma and Toyoto Tsushima domains. The Exxon Solar shogunate took power in 2068—somewhat peacefully according to the history discs in the Titan Japanese Archives.

But what was happening behind scenes—during that fateful Late BP Tokugawa shogun period? An unanticipated and rather complex “Space Opera” scenario was materializing for the Exxon leadership and intelligentsia.

Something quite unexpected was coming down with the advent of something totally new: unforseen interstellar foreign trade. The visits of the Sirius ships from Canis major were at first the main vector of extra-solar interstellar trade exchanges—followed by the additional influx of various “Vandals of the Void” types of decadent Vega-Los-Vegas casino planet tourists from the constellation Lyra.

These criminal and hoodlum-type Vega-Los-Vegas aliens were seeking new leisurely entertainment venues and vices for their con-artist business opportunities. They were curious about the new Exxon dynasty and wanted make business deals and contractual enhancements with TPTB to extend their gambling Empire.

Terran artistic-cultural enhancements had become stylishly in vogue and somewhat soup du jour for their already ancient and highly advanced decadent stellar civilization. The Vega-Los-Vegas mob had class and quickly made connections with the various still thriving Yakuza chivalrous organizations on Titan and elsewhere.

Aldebaran sex-slave mutants from the constellation Taurus had already made contact with puzzled Pluto colonists on the fringes and outskirts the Exxon Shogun solar system. These sophisticated androids were survivors of an ancient still unknown mega-world—lounging somewhere in their strange invisible 4th dimension world known as Miami Vice Prime.

One particularly powerful species of these preternatural alien intelligences came from the ruined world of “Ronald McDonald”—a long-dead alien clown civilization based on a 4th dimensional substance called the “organic id.”

Monsters of this strange interdimensional “id-force” were known as “Clowns from Outer Space”—and it was this Clown “id-force” that was picked up by a Titan teenage clairvoyante youth named Val van Vogt.

Van Vogt was a young Slan survivor from Planet Earth—one of the few American telepaths to make a safe exit from the BP Texas headquarters before the Apocalypto Disco End. He was taken in by the Exxon intelligentsia who soon realized the boy’s psychic economic potential for the new shogunate.

Little did they know what would happen. Virtually singlehandedly, young van Vogt did a narrative intervention at just the right time which virtually restructured the dominant paradigms of interstellar shogun time travel. It was similar to an obscure historical literary shift of consciousness known as the “Golden Age of Science Fiction”—a sudden short burst of energy between the ‘30s and the ‘50s on Earth which took traditional SF pulp fiction into a totally new dimension.

It was this telepathic linguisitcs shift which attracted the Clowns from Outer Space to the doorsteps of this Slan kid living on Titan. Unlike the hard-science aesthetic ideologies of the previous Late Tokugawa BP shogunate—the Exxon shogunate literary intelligentsia (thanks to this idiot savant boy van Vogt) skirted the typical old-fashioned Romantic and high modernist cliché thought patterns of the previous pulp fiction interplanetary genre paradigms for time travel. And proceeded to go where no BP executive had even thought possible.

The interdimensional key to this time travel breakthrough was the adolescent play of unconscious materials and fantasy dynamics released by simple clowning around—which the boy idiot savant van Vogt was good at. He didn’t take the 4th dimensional beings seriously—he laughed at them. He was just as interested in getting off and having porno wish-fulfillment fantasies as they were.

In fact, he showed the Clowns from Outer Space a trick or two. This total lack of any narrative intelligibility cannot be read as Exxon Shogunate naivete however—in the sense that the alien Other dialectic couldn’t be “conceptualized” by Exxon execs or even remotely “understood” through typical Terran canonization effects.

The Exxon Shogunates were smart cookies. They had to be to overcome their rivals—the BP mob. It’s precisely simply because of this cunning total lack of canon dominance—that a few new sub-literary conventions and lack of any intense “literary” effects made a new canonization of the Other possible.

The alien 4th dimensional Other—became known obliquely and tangentially. Clown pulp fiction effects like comix books and non-auteur film commercial underclass trashy B-movies made time travel possible. The parallels with historical surrealist procedures were inescapable.

Time travel, then, ended up being based on the most garish and vulgar kinds of Shogun junk and Japanese paraliterature—taking off in unexpected new directions every hentai-manga-anime moment.

Grasping the 4th dimensional image-thought process of the young Slan telepath Val van Vogt otherwise is hopelessly impossible—especially if one tries to “contain” this new yet ancient narrative style in a manageable straight literary prose operation.

Chicken-cooping a neo-narrative a coup d'état such as this is, well, somewhat difficult. See “Reflections of A. E. Van Vogt” (Titan Press, 2075, pp. 78-79) In that sense, the “irrational”and subjective “id-force” had a way of defusing and marginalizing most forms of privileged censorship.

Something that tragically the original surrealist Earth movement misconceived—a stunning and depressing historical irony for the preeminent anti-aesthetic vanguard Western avant-garde. It failed at despising itself—and not aiming for Literature as a radical transformation of daily life.

While van Vogt quite naturally flowed with the narrative of his own virtual dreaming—the logic of his fantasy, the unconscious free association and projection of his sheer adolescent campy imagination was what attracted the Clowns from Outer Space to him in the first place.

Sometimes some rogue Betelgeuse or inquisitive Alpha Orionis entity slipped out of mysterious same-time timewarp blackhole deepspace regions—to peek in at what was going on at the Ronald McDonald asteroid orbiting invisibly around the Slan kid’s Titan homebase.

Rumors of alien involvement back on Earth beneath Poughkeepsie were thoroughly investigated by PPI and the New York Times. From 2068 onward, Planet Japan, as the former Saturn moon Titan had become known as, started to participate actively in foreign intergalactic trade with not only the quixotic Space Clowns but with their allies the Zeta Zombies.

The adolescent ambassador for this foreign trade and cultural exchange was, of course, none other than the Slan youth himself. What fools they were to believe in him. By 2070, an embassy and trade mission under Captain Hasekura Tsunenaga got involved with the whole mysterious 4th dimension Others thing.

It was Tsunenaga’s kept boy—who supposedly was permitted by the Others to come & go through an intergalactic “glory hole” time-portal across the vast light-years abyss of the great space-time expanse known as the Sargasso Void. The Sargasso Void was so powerful that it crushed the highly advanced Japanese-built space galleon San Juan Bautista flatter than a pancake.

After 2068, the Shogun issued numerous permits for the newer so-called imperial “red seal ships”—destined for occasional Clown interstellar missions and free trade-exchanges. Analogies to historical Japanese international trade policies back on Old Earth are inescapable.

After 2080 and the introduction of the Space Seclusion Act and the banning of all Taser weapons, the only inbound extra-humanoid ships allowed were mostly from the Vega-Los-Vegas casino home planet. The popular cloned born-again “Liberace-Elvis the Pelvis” android daimyo handled all the business-angle comings & goings from then on. Thanks to specially-designed Heinlein-drive spaceships catering to bored extraterrestrials and other wealthy important alien tourisimo.

The fact is that “Earthboyz are easy”—got around the local decadent galactic in-crowd rather quickly. So that pretty soon—cute Yakuza Slan rough-trade numbers were much in demand.

Yakuza Rough Trade

___________________________



Yakuza Rough Trade

“To show things as they are”
—Donald Richie, A Hundred
Years of Japanese Film

Violence is cool—
Cool is nonverbal like a
Manga fantasy

The storyboard tale—
An assemblage of action
Discrete quick sex
__________________

No chronology—
Little linkage, much assumed
Sadomasochism

Viewers emotion—
Beside the point: being it =
To be out of it
__________________

S & M cool—
Not the despised uetto (wet)
But dorai (dry) other

Manga / anime—
Uninvolved & devolving
Popular youth flicks
__________________

Violence is chic—
Like Quentin Tarantino
Uninvolved / untouched

The danger is safe—
Insulated narrative
Manga rough-trade love
__________________

Fast / familiar—
The only narrative that
Most young people know

Bite-sized comix frames—
Action chronology drives
The quick storyline
__________________

He tied me up and—
Got me stoned & out of it
Yakuza gangster

Ruthless, relentless—
Stoic, static camera
Pensive cool sketches
__________________

He is yakuza—
Aestheticized violence
Interests him

Subdued violence—
Young tough gangster roughtrade
I fell in love bad
__________________

It was manga sex—
It turned me on tied-up tight
Yakuza boyfriend

Expressionless thing—
A lot of pent-up tension
Wanting to come out
__________________

Blood-bath excesses—
Jitsuoroku-eign jizz
Unstoppable style

A slow hit-mission—
Facial muscles-moving
Reduced to know pain
__________________

Singularly detached—
Coolness generating cool
Manga-like feelings

Like “Reservoir Dogs”—
Macho romanticism
Turns & looks away
__________________

Static camera—
Manga filmic narrative
One-shot-one-scene style

Takes in the action—
No matter how bad it looks
Simple contrast rules…
__________________

Violent contrast—
Between static S/M scenes
And mayhem-filled shots

Simmering silence—
Timed bursts trademark violence
Gangster chic costumes
__________________

Minimal acting—
No over-the-top action
Getting into me

Too hot for the gangs—
Taking his time with me tho
Yakuza rough trade

Yakuza Planet (2012)

Dead Planet LXVI
___________________________



Yakuza Planet (2012)
Yakuza wakusei ギャングの惑星

Fukasaku's new film, known as "Yakuza Planet," is a compelling Japanese SF crime drama, from the director of "Battle Royale." The plot centers on a 'haiku poet on the edge,' played by Tetsuya Watari, a character far more disturbed than, say, Dirty Harry or Popeye Doyle from "The French Connection." Indeed, Watari's rebelliousness seems far more shocking in the context of Japanese poetry, where respect for authority and conformity are supposedly ingrained.

Equally interesting is the portrayal of the Yakuza. It is a crime family in the mold of "The Godfather," but more prosaic and less self-important than the clan created by Francis Ford Coppola. Above all, the film's theme is the lack of honor in Japanese society. TEMPCO is corrupt, and in many respects indistinguishable from the Yakuza.

The central character, a young scifaiku Bashō poet, develops a close relationship with one of the Yakuza mobsters, whom he discovers is far more honorable and trustworthy than any of the TEMPCO corporate mobsters or BP Oil HAARP mobsters lurking in the background. All in all, a fascinating and fast-paced movie.
_______________________________

Mobsters on a mission: How Japan's mafia launched an aid effort

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/asia/mobsters-on-a-mission-how-japans-mafia-launched-an-aid-effort-2264031.html

Just hours after the worst earthquake in a generation plunged Japan into crisis, the nation's mafia sprang into action. So began the yakuza relief effort By Jake Adelstein Saturday, 9 April 2011 On 12 March

Around midnight, less than a day after a devastating earthquake tore through the Tohoku region of Japan, causing a tsunami that killed thousands and left many more homeless, 25 trucks bearing 50 tonnes of supplies arrived in front of the City Hall in Hitachinaka, in the east-coast Ibaraki prefecture.

Nostalgia for the Future

Dead Planet LXV ___________________________



Nostalgia for the Future

“I don’t like to be around
twins, they make me
think I’m seeing double.”
—Robert Heinlein,
Time for the Stars

—an ode to scifaiku

the thing about twins and heinlein's time for the stars—it’s a schizo-fragmented fictional text full of flatness and depth-loneliness, full of the twin's double angst, the loss of their individuality and personal style, the replacement by doppelganger pastiche of one’s sense of history and future memory

—scifaiku as techno-sublime

transcending modernist styles, all the jargon, badges and other decorations lost to schizo-frag collage, stream of consciousness, hysterical alienation, otherness surpassing our power to represent it, the stigmata of late cyberpunk, posmodernism and late capitalism

—scifaiku emerged in the late forties & fifties

emerging for me with robert heinlein's space cadet (1948) and red planet mars (1949) & time for the stars (1956), citizen of the galaxy (1957), have spacesuit will travel (1958), some of the best juvie sci-fi ever written, a style exuding assurance, savvy and slang, casualness, clever understatement, charm, smoothness free of jargon, seeming to come from a place where things were actually coming from, concealing considerable narrative craft and genuine characters as worlds of tomorrow

heinlein deconstructing the genre—

going mainstream with new methods of narrative style and juvie imagination, rocket ship galileo (1947), scripting space cadet (1948), starman jones (1953), the star beast (1954), tunnel in the sky (1955)—into a sense of time-paradox novels verging as complex adult novels puppet masters (1951), double star (1956), star trooper (1959), stranger in a strange land (1961)

scifaiku as one of the great failures—

of sciencefictional imagination, the inability to envision the juvie imagination of the future and what the leisure-classes might do to avoid boredom—from four-dimensional chess to dabbling in xeno-archeology, protagonists entertaining themselves with time travel, shape-shifting, gender-morphing

scifaiku not knowing its limits—

paradoxically its highest aspiration the sense of wonder often found in paperback pulp fiction, the diamond in the junkyard debris, the perfect clarity of “juvie jouissance” first experienced by adolescent imagination usually dismissed as youthful illusion, but still interfused with the sense of sci-fi sublime and childhood’s end, hidden adroitly by vandals of the void, there beyond the furthest reaches of neptune, the nostalgia for planetary paradigm shifts, bordering on lost senses of juvenile sci-fi, understated by twin adolescent telepathy, modeled after heinlein’s time for the stars, the twin brothers, one consciousness, “prison-yard whispers,” joined together on “automatic pilot,” their futural rite of passage to the stars, their initiation ceremony and their growing-up pains beyond the beyond

the reading of scifaiku texts—

the sense of wonder inspired through parataxis paradigm shifts, variants of conceptual breakthroughs, telepathic dialog faster than the speed of light, time between the stars, the time between juvie then & now, created by the writer to give readers back then a glimpse of themselves with no further authorial aid—other than the pages of an ace paperback double-novel to guide them

Dead Planet LXIV

Dead Planet LXIV
___________________________



Fukushima Visitor

1

A young diplomat—
Now I travel sub-light here
Scifaiku poet

They avert my eyes—
They understand who I am
Time for me stands still

2

A young commando—
I knew many ruined worlds
See Earth thru sad eyes

I send a report—
Back thru the usual time
Adjustment channels

3

This planet is lost—
Late capitalism stage
Of development

Zero hour endgame—
Overtaken by dark atomics
Nothing left but screams

4

Except for a few—
Scifaiku poets who are
Klug Zeitvernichtung

Cinders will result—
An atomics mirror held
Close to their shocked face

5

A young Earthboy with—
A caged cicada becomes
My focus back home

Speeding on our ship—
Thru the solar dark night sky
Beyond nova bloom

6

The death of a race—
A rope hanging from heaven
The kid mourns his world

DNA snapshot—
We produce a girlfriend for
Him to find springtime

7

We erase his mind—
He dreams of another Earth
We program Eden

Beyond a doubt he—
Will fail again like last time
Bad Biology

8

Ziggurats will fall—
Babble Towers will crumble
Empires come & go

This is how it works—
If you were eternal godz
Then you’d get bored too

9

Some call us jaded—
Interstellar dilettantes
Planet puppeteers

We speak thru poets—
Online oral traditions
With computers now

10

Be patient with us—
Our Mirror for Observers
This screen you’re reading

We’re coming thru time—
The clocks are striking thirteen
Childhood’s End is yours…

Dead Planet LXIII

Dead Planet LXIII
___________________________

Fukushima Mon Amour



Sleeping pills don’t help—
Empty bottles strewn the floor
Brief forgetfulness

Look into my eyes—
A cornered animal stares
At the TV screen

Unapproachable—
Wretchedness with the sound of
Cesium blossoms

My dead husband lives—
In the suburb of my heart
He worked for TEMPCO

Now the setting sun—
Blooming untouchably white
Chrysanthemum death

He was slain by rays—
Radioactive blossoms
Protecting Japan

He’s inside me now—
Blooming beautifully black
Plum tree Thanatos

I will join him soon—
Dark prototype déjà vu
Chernobyl chill

Dead Planet LXII

Dead Planet LXII
___________________________



Scifaiku Sayonara

Abandoned corpses—
A million on TV
But no viewers left

All the diplomats—
TEMPCO GE Japanese
Bureaucrats have fled

Off to Singapore—
Hong Kong & San Francisco
But there’s no Escape

In sullen silence—
Uncompromising nature
Poisons the jet-stream

Mt. Fuji looks down—
Old volcano grinning skull
Depressing age ends
_______________________________

“The United States and Japan face the most challenging security environment in the history of the alliance,” the cable quotes Mr. Campbell as saying. His Japanese counterpart, Kazuyoshi Umemoto, the director general of North American affairs at the Foreign Ministry, replied that his government must do more so “the public better understands threats to Japan.”—Martin Fackler, “Cables Show U.S. Concern on Japan’s Disaster Readiness,” NYTimes, May 3, 2011