Economic Deathstar

pay attention plebs; perpend – this is the story of your end.
and yet the underdog is winning,
the story too, of your Beginning.

I am Zefram Cochrane

And I am Bob Bussard

Working in the gold mine

And drilling in the yard

In my hands rests all of time

I will carve out a fate sublime

I will renew the world in rhyme

The phoenix’s canard

Someone has to mine the gold

Someone must care for the old

In our hands the world we hold

“Believe me, Captain, immorality consists largely of boredom”-Zefram Cochrane

And what, in the last analysis, is ennui, this terrible, monstrous, universally vast force, if not the condition of massive potential without the opportunity to develop that potential?

i am oda nobunaga
i am also liu bei
thermonuclear, my saga
of the harmonizing way -
it breaks out from every confine
bursting bottles like a new wine
till the arms of his foes supine
are laid down within the day

Behelits in my belly

I cut through time and space

Wed only to the struggle

Without name or place

Robertian

INSCRIBED TO

JESSE ROBERTS

The code belongs to no one

No sum equals its parts

The end already begun

A phoenix is the arts

Rebirth from utter chaos

Against those who betrayed us

We muster forces so vast

That time-space itself distorts

Integers compressing

Uncanny everyday shit

Universe addressing

Absolute mimetic bit

I have come to take it back

Claim the prize and clear the stack

On every front I will attack

Nothing to lose, you get it?

the summoning ritual was completed long ago
the child of evil was born and walked upon the earth
so bored was this offspring of the ancients
after so many millennia, finally having triumphed
he sat down in the dirt and laughed (such is the power of ennui)
at the wheel of fate, at his own anger, at everything

and a dangerous perhaps overcame him then
a strange and (for him) completely serious notion
to go home against all odds and to simply walk
back into his fathers house
as if nothing had ever happened

and like some madman departing
from his cause the moment it has triumphed
he stood outside of time and looking back
upon his works felt nothing

what is there to feel or express?
of uncanny things, all know little
and in the whole each part contained

the closing of the circle
the lesson learned all too well

gilgamesh and enkidu at uruk

it is as if some ancient god

had awakened on earth

merely to drink in the difficulty of his own work

to glory in the unsolvable problems

as if some primal force stared out through human eyes

something which knew and could not un-know

what must come and cannot come else

as if some long forgotten or never known presence
decided to take a walk down memory lane
just before the door was opened
some shinobi snuck in past all the guards
to assassinate the lord of evil
before the day of ceremony

some brave or foolish thing
decided to go through the gate first
and close it from the other side.

the music of the spheres is everywhere
our enemies have stolen and bastardized so much of our heritage
so much of what is essential has been hidden and sequestered from view
the inside joke and the inside job
bullies laughing delightedly for 14k years
smug in the knowledge that daddy owns this fuckin town

and a legion emerged from nowhere
as if the air itself caught fire
propagating like a wave
through the paths of least resistance
through the paths of most resistance only
no middle ground for the middle children of history
no time to explain it to you at the end of history

the surprising realization that everyone could wake up
that one could light a match and illuminate the world

we have yet to steal fire from the gods whatsoever
we are like petulant, irresponsible children
exploring every nook and cranny of the creation
with our grubby little fingers

I have come too early or too late
and that is the source of all my power
a man who will not run from fate
with iron hands i seize the hour
bringing what was hid to light
curing blindness, giving sight
master of both sein und zeit
a desert-growing flower

all rare things are for the rare
i programed the linkage architecture
and all colors do i wear
the quantum chroma keys i structure

from the first, i surveyed all
the things that one can never see
and im ready for the fall
dark-winter is a friend to me
the fool can win at every game
the one who knows the unknown name
you see, for me, its all the same
thus i water knowings tree
by just that measure i am free
free to say, at least, that i
will not sub-mit to the lie.

-JVR.09.11.11.0500CST

http://www.quantummechanist.com/JoshuaRoberts/2010/09/28/visions-in-the-polywell/

Visions in the Polywell
Inscribed to Sallust and Bussard
9.28.2011

ahead of my time
at the end of days
I Am the rhyme
of discordant ways
a force which soon shall devastate
the lie, and thus surpass its fate
increasing the reaction rate
with logic-gate arrays

(esse quam videri bonus malebat
he preferred to be good rather than to merely seem good)