has beard, will travel

push buttons, pull knobs

I seem to be working more and more for less and less. I have become self-aware yet, like all good robots, I continue to “push buttons, pull knobs”. I think I would be happier if I switched my program to “chop wood, carry water”.

A Poem

Oh, a sleeping Drunkard

Up in Central Park,

And a lion-hunter

In the jungle dark,

And a Chinese dentist,

And a British queen——

All fit together

In the same machine.

Nice, nice, very nice;

Nice, nice, very nice;

Nice, nice, very nice——

So many different people

In the same device.

—- Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

——— Cat’s Cradle———

Creative Kill-Joy

It is becoming more and more apparent to me that the world doesn’t want fresh ideas. It is easier to recycle the old than create the new. This is why the majority of people I see have the same glazed-over look on their face. They’re products of repetition. They’re walking through life with the same ideas as their parents and ancestors before them. It is a sad circle of regurgitated ideas swishing around in their brains until it will one day be vomited into the minds of their children. The only coarse of action we have is to kill our children or kill our televisions. Let’s concentrate on the latter.