Under The Weather ~ Gawker
I am.
At the core of this construct, this cultural effigy; there unwinds a clockwork heart whose spring was once wound then key tossed to smelter.
And the duration of unwinding is spent conforming to the carbon-based copy; shuffling blueprints deduced from the rules of the universe.
And corroded crumbs of wisdom taped to ticking cog-wheel whirr, count off the days in shades of rust and rot.
And rust itself is a poor conductor for all these construct sub-routines; rot a scarecrow foot at the corner of a crystallised cornea.
So this construct collides with its world, denies what is offered up as truth; strives to break free from the ties so carefully soldered in construction.
And had I not these construct eyes and ears for input to overload, I’d walk this path graveward with all the automaton-grace of patriot.
And on that walk I would pass beneath the waving flags whose bloodstained weave reflects the thin vain veneer that the operating system requires us to revere.
I am not.
I am.
At the core of this construct, this cultural effigy; there unwinds a clockwork heart whose spring was once wound then key tossed to smelter.
And the duration of unwinding is spent conforming to the carbon-based copy; shuffling blueprints deduced from the rules of the universe.
And corroded crumbs of wisdom taped to ticking cog-wheel whirr, count off the days in shades of rust and rot.
And rust itself is a poor conductor for all these construct sub-routines; rot a scarecrow foot at the corner of a crystallised cornea.
So this construct collides with its world, denies what is offered up as truth; strives to break free from the ties so carefully soldered in construction.
And had I not these construct eyes and ears for input to overload, I’d walk this path graveward with all the automaton-grace of patriot.
And on that walk I would pass beneath the waving flags whose bloodstained weave reflects the thin vain veneer that the operating system requires us to revere.
I am not.
13 comments:
I don't really have the words so just take these jumbled letters as some sort of noise indicative of appreciation of your work; as ever.
I hope to start on your book soon, right after I finish The Name of the Rose. Heh. You have a tough act to follow. Feeling the pressure? He laughs out loud...
"I am not."… the construct. But like all hatchlings in the civilized coop we are quickly encased in another shell it is up to each of us to discover our egg tooth to break out of the creator myth construction. You begin where Ayn Rand's Anthem leaves off, and much more poignantly, I might add.
For in vain did my Father's blood stain the flag! I once was, but am no longer...
Justin: Congratulation! you appear to be the third person in the universe to have purchased "The Aeon Calling".
Unfortunately I cannot hope follow Umberto Eco :(
Yodood: I have not read "Anthem" but did read "Atlas Shrugged" many years ago.
Subby: Likewise - refer to my post "Opinions are like arseholes" 18 November ;]
this is another perfect one.
the theme is so difficult for words, but you apply them fantastically.
Pisces,
third person huh? I'm honoured, part of a trinity then? I'll get back to you when I finish the book, if the writing on your blog is anything to go by it will be a pleasure to read. Keep the dark, fruitful ink from your mind ever flowing.
actually, you do seem to have that Eco-ish flair sometimes.... especially when you are spinning a web like this piece. Your words and rhythms underscore how easy it is to be captured, maybe lured is the better word, into the oblivion of thoughtless followership...
glad to hear you are NOT.
Zoe: thank you
Justin: the writing here has developed somewhat since I wrote "The Aeon Calling" but hopefully you'll still enjoy the darkness :)
Harlequin: ah, you flatter me :D
Eco is a meticulous researcher and master story teller, while I sometimes use wikipedia and my stories are tiddlers when compared ;]
"And corroded crumbs of wisdom taped to ticking cog-wheel whirr, count off the days in shades of rust and rot."
Iconic...
the words, the text and subtexts, but i especially like the way the form of this one wraps your meaning, not only the bookends "i am/i am not" but the whole of it. you help your readers with form, pisces, because your concepts and metaphors are hugely complex.
i'm such a formalist. :>>)) xoxoxoxoxox
Jimmy: fanx
Laura: Actually, the book-ends were an afterthought in order to hold a rather loose piece together :)
all in the editing, sir... a fine addition, and there are some good phrases in the metaphor: i really like the soldering--"key tossed to smelter", "rust and rot", "crystalised cornea", "smoldered in construction"... xoxoxo
dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
hello you - hope all is well.
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