A Poet's Morning Journal
It seems benign, a poet's morning journal; but used properly it's an instrument for National Defense. Really. Our military isn't equipped to protect us from this threat.
It seems benign, a poet's morning journal; but used properly it's an instrument for National Defense. Really. Our military isn't equipped to protect us from this threat.
To see humanity suffer and know the cause and do nothing about it, doesn't sit well with me. But what can one poet do? I can write... a lot.
Something's missing, huh?
A Democratic Algorithm is an Oxymoron.
Language is the software of humanity. Artists and creative people are its developers.
My Scientific friends, if you ever wondered what poets and artists are up to, now you know.
Classification software is machine washing our thinking.
Every time a word is read the intention of the author returns to life translated by its reader. All reading is an act of resurrection.
It seems benign, a poet's morning journal; but used properly it's an instrument for National Defense. Really. Our military isn't equipped to protect us from this threat.
The reason why America is in turmoil right now is because there's no hope in the stories we share because AI is filtering our media.
It's why readers tend to have the best lives; practice.
I've been here for years. Every. Single. Day. But without clearance from a corporate machine, this free press is unviewable.
Do I have algorithmic clearance enough for you to receive this truth wrapped up in two years worth of daily proof yet?
Autumn arrives, a technicolor light show in New England. Fall foliage is a slow tree horizon line's reflection of an Aurora Borealis.
So much of the world is obsessed over a video game of Internet searches called AI. Did we forget our dreams? Did we send hope on holiday?
Please let others know about this site and its prolific efforts to save The American Press. No, I'm not joking. There's over two years of daily proof here that no one's been able to read because of the machines filtering our News.