To take a premise,
And multiply it by,
Many times scorn and invective,
Throwing easy banter out the window,
And, verily, caution to the winds.
To plant a wicked laugh,
At varying degrees of Self-Importance,
and Self-Inflation, and Self-Seriousness, and Self-Promotion.
And take a pencil to them,
Underlining their Self-Farce.
To build on a grand tradition of,
Indulgent farts at the Great Table in the Great Hall,
And the cutting jarb at a Dictator at a democratic fundraiser,
And the face-graffiti on drunk and passed-out friends,
And other assorted tom-fooleric absurdity,
That arrives, like it or not,
Straight from the heart.
I sadly am not,
But I wish I was,
Charlie.
Topical and contextual commentary by:
Adam Gopnik
Teju Cole
Slavoj Žižek
Why AI Progress Is Increasingly Invisible
7 hours ago
No comments:
Post a Comment