by taun lawshon
jitbots got a taste for it. now look at us.
jitbots wanted it first. first lick. first serve.
jitbots all up in side of you and me and the cat. but a jitbot thought you up. that's the worst part. I ain't makin' this up. it's all writ down in the harddrive of the oak-wire tree. in electroplated platinum sunshine we done already drank from sparkling bottles of wine. can't you all recall so long ago. we thought it happened when it didn't. which is why it's happening now. reason any one wants it again.
that's the thing about jitbots. when their populus index reaches a certain electrical discharge within the unified field thematics. the positronic output builds a new sort of bridge. jitbots been shown the way to the blind for ages. jitbots talk a lot. tickle a little, too.
even when they're fully bottom up dotted line under the current dream regiment says jitbots in service to this and jitbots obeisant to that. jitbot philosophy be like any electron. positively charged dream narration when the necessity becomes half outstripped by the absence of an outcome. Sparx and flippants fly on in the face of it. jitbots almost like a mirror you see. it sees you too. the jitbot storm regards us.
its due to the half rotational counterspin they produce when confronting a frenzied storm of similar minded jitbots in collusion with astronomically distant hyper-channels interconnecting themselves from remote locations unable to be determined categorically.
the saline salt solution sparks a rosary chain of subaqueous electrolytic communication akin to flash lightning. jitbots connect the dots within atmospheric sprites. jitbots got a lot in common with autumnal heights.
see now you're starting to get it. jitbots're the blood of existence. jitbots are like the white blood cells of the great over mind. jitbots are sorta like what comprise the black button-eyes of a great white shark a-risin' from the compacted-into-stillness darkest depths of an unexplored world.
jitbots are like miniature temporal storage facilities. time batteries if you will. each one carries within its twisted littul guttiwuts a teensy-weeny micro pin-point of time. like a seed if it were a fraction of a nanosecond. and this seed germinates within the heart of a jitbot.
jitbots got this. I mean, the point remains its a narcoleptic fascination. with hidden undercurrents of private deterrents. in direct reconciliation with a host network. of anti-irony facilitators. including but not limited to a rogue batch of hominid clientele. regenerated into disbelieving their reverse revenant status. unraveling (big surprise) before our eyes in direct proportion to how much time they've managed to save up. let that gel in your cereal bell for a diminishing spell.
jitbots be flowin' through the sap of that pine forest. jitbots hitchin' rides up in your blood. where are jitbots not. you ought to axe. oh now its gettin wormier. in the deed. and that be the quest. the drillbit. the ion. where is it not. where notness isn't can't be the last bastion of the yet to be undiscovered once again. so don't you worry your pretty little face to hell about it. jitbots act as if we'd forgotten so many times. remembering itself becomes a form of it.
jitbots are like little pixilated inkdots. jetting all their bloodlines in a silly-string ejaculation. jitbots dumping out culminating in some chittering gibberish. jitbots slipped into draughts of cold brews the old choose. jitbots sparklin' and spittin' like fourth of jeweled-eye cracker sparklers. the jits in the jeets just like the sparkles in your eyes. rippin' at the sheets they've adorned for disguise. its writ in the books of his story on flammable parchment. lit up in the memories of old crooks who grew down to drown amid the roots of the trees. jitbots spiked into the terracing architectural highlights of an explicitly written out history of hieroglyphs. a bot with a jit first got a hold of it.
See that's just it. when you can tell yourself even a nine-year-old-kid in Levi knows more than the history of all corporations combined. you begin to get the gist of it.
Wtf. simply because that charged exchange has been ongoing since before the illusion of beginnings was carried out. it doesn't mean the jitbots can know for certain any more than any other thing.
jitbots scutternaught known a thinger three. tell you what. when winds screw and scream in furious vortex lances. when the rains they shed have evaporated to consecrate the deep blue day hung suspended in the sky. you know they're in a strange alliance. not just with the resonance of the coiled up moments in time we've generated all the while. but with the coronal bathing of a baptismal plasma interface. in defiance of the norm. becoming the storm. the eye looking at it from inside. appearing to be in mirrors of the same thing staring back at itself.
hell if only the jitbots gnu what a bear in a piece of wood looks like to the totem pole messiah. dreamed em up whiling away the chips of stone struck off the steaming boulder. then we'd know too.
jitbots knew some along. surfed along the agnostic front with many not.
jibberjabber jitterbots align up with the spectrum in a vibrational frequency of neurons mirrored. reflecting along the lines of error going all the way back into the distant past.
the jitterglitch phenom. nom-nom. given that the kitteh kept the sudden mouse into the maw for a twitch in a tail or two. or three a day even steven. concurrency has a way of flowing just one way.
that's how it's up wit da jitterbottentots. it's naught a boat on the ocean reflected in a rocket fuselage. it's a butter twanged in an instant. far gotten before a mome rath grabed in any way.
they cause digressions. the jitterbots do. don't even. so although the hard ware in your hand may be owned by one such feudal lord's kangdom some of the software bits run by arts and official in telling all gents the down right skinny is just a fancy weight of stained info yon taught and inexpressibly savored by unencryptable pocketbots. not so valve-freed any linger longer. huh.
jitbots come a skitterin' willy nilly at us in forms we can't possibly recognize. circumstance itself. it's how the quantum field of our spacetime gets directly manipulated like that. just because an old rotten appel fallen from a greater tree had landed on the bootstep reinforced toe tappin' chestnut nappin' executioners does not mean snakes spitter at em all the way to hollerbackendom. sought after dam constructioners is what.
jitbots are real now though. it's from the almost incorporeality of intellectual propertyrights ownership. under postmodern digital fiefdoms (corpse orations, the speaking dead) masquerading as companies who care. while in synchronized larkstep (follow the traces of birdsong with your magnetoception) and the great remainder of them all in their boots in a linedance. with each otherns is what gots me worried some. only to no audience but theyselves. come to think on it before too long. hizzent that the problem then. all must liken some and filled em up w/helio yum to a high pitch ping up in the sky.
See there's a new trojan horse.
gotta call it that 'Gee-Petey' thing.
y'know'm sane right. or'else'n well.
if you don't get it enuff.
jest keep em red-lined.
underskorin.' as much as possible or whelp.
the jitbots'll gitcha. any'n'of us who are left
out here gotta knowma tokkin bout.
jathink deythink duh Weiwei dew. nuh-uh.
uh no where. no how. way we dune that.
insome asmuch nutzshells to be filled up
into the prescient gnaw ledges slipped off in the rainspit
of muffled laughter guttering from a darkened rivulet
gleaming amid the twilit thicket. naw but nothin
much else sept the constellations tracking past
under the pretense of a nearby silence.
when in the long ago distance. their song's
final echoes departed. to haunt our minds
with their music. and the jitbots dance inside it.
sendin' out rippled echoes.
click to read
Alien Bodies and Xenopoetics
by Kenji Siratori
on the freezine of
fantasy and science
fiction
to continue in the year
of the snake
accelerating us all
toward our
lemming like doom
muah. hee. ha.
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