I find it fascinating that birds have less junk DNA cluttering up their chromosomes than do we mammals. Some speculate this tendency is a weight savings mechanism.
Amen to that!
It’s wonderful to imagine an organism so pressured it’s able to identify needless genes and willing to cast them free.
That’s some fierce optimization. The entirety of mammalia must seem like hoarders to our avian allies.
Author: Franklyn Monk
Speculation
In the early 22nd century a hiphop ensemble shall be propelled to stardom with their hit The N*s I’ve Fucked, until it is discovered to have been penned by a white supremacist and powerful member of the ruling party.It will be a minor controversy within a maelstrom of controversies which will blow over in short order. Awards will be rescinded, records updated. The artists will be forgotten while the partyman skates.
Outtakes
Franklyn Monk Dronecast 28: Outtakes.
Just some scraps I had laying around. I record as I write and delete everything up to the final recording—to save disk space, and because there’s always too much to review.
Recordings get scattered all over the place, and I’ll loose track of them, and sometimes stumble over them again. Instead of deleting them this time, I decided to give you a behind the scenes look at my writing process. Continue reading Outtakes
Tour Guide
Once upon a time in a desolate land
In the middle of a
Familiar worldsystem
You’d recognize it
It’s right over there
Stood a tree.
Under the tree sat a poet.
It was the last tree and the last poet.
Fitting they should die together
Thought the poet.
Fitting, thought the tree,
But useless.
No more useless than
Love thought the poet.
And the tree dropped a leaf.
We shall die,
We shall die together
We shall die,
We shall die together
And they did.
The tree lost its branches
and the poet decomposed.
LAUGH
They’re still there
A dead testament to waste
And desolation
For whoever should wander by
The commentator shakes
Its head and says
What I mean to say
Once upon a time
In a desolate land
The last poet
And the last tree
Sacrificed themselves
So that you may
Stare in despair and regret
What you have done
HORROR HORROR
Look at what you have wrought
Look at what you wrought.
CRY
LAUGH
I Trusted You
Sorry for the wonkiness of the podcast last night. I had such a hard time with this microcast.
It seems to have been doomed from the start. It took days to record that one second of audio. No, really. Well, and to mix it. No, again, really. It was a whole thing.
I guess I should start with philosophy and aesthetic…err, my pet-peeves, that is. My biggest pet-peeve is when people, especially podcasters, over talk things. It’s rampant. Continue reading I Trusted You