Waking early I lie,
Darkness still shrouds the sky.
One day or night I will die,
There will be no more awakening to the sky.
Is death the final sleep,
Through which no dreams creep?
Or a perpetual dream,
wherein our consciousness forever streams?
Often, when dreaming, I believe myself to be awake.
On waking, I realise my mistake.
But how can I be certain the land of sleep is behind,
That I am not in a dream confined?
I lack the wisdom of a divine,
So can not answers find.
“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” (F Nietzsche).
I first came across this quote while at university and it has stayed with me ever since. There is a fascinating discussion regarding it’s meaning here, http://forums.philosophyforums.com/threads/and-if-you-gaze-for-long-into-an-abyss-the-abyss-gazes-also-into-38060-11.html
Many thanks to masgautsen of The Thoughts and Life of Me for nominating me to participate in the 3 Quotes Challenge, (http://thethoughtsandlifeofme.com/2015/06/14/3-quotes-challenge-1st-day/).
There are three simple rules:
Now for my third quote which comes from John Stuart Mill’s 1859 essay, On Liberty:
“ Like other tyrannies, the tyranny of the majority was at first, and is still vulgarly, held in dread, chiefly as operating through the acts of the public
authorities. But reflecting persons perceived that when society is itself the tyrant—society collectively, over the separate individuals who compose it—its
means of tyrannizing are not restricted to the acts which it may do by the hands of its political functionaries. Society can and does execute its own mandates:
and if it issues wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which it ought not to meddle, it practises a social tyranny more
formidable than many kinds of political oppression, since, though not usually upheld by such extreme penalties, it leaves fewer means of escape, penetrating
much more deeply into the details of life, and enslaving the soul itself. Protection, therefore, against the tyranny of the magistrate is not enough: there
needs protection also against the tyranny of the prevailing opinion and feeling; against the tendency of society to impose, by other means than civil penalties,
its own ideas and practices as rules of conduct on those who dissent from them; to fetter the development, and, if possible, prevent the formation, of
any individuality not in harmony with its ways, and compel all characters to fashion themselves upon the model of its own. There is a limit to the legitimate
interference of collective opinion with individual independence: and to find that limit, and maintain it against encroachment, is as indispensable to a
good condition of human affairs, as protection against political despotism”.
My nominees who are, of course under no obligation whatsoever to accept (I won’t be offended if you don’t) are as follows:
Victoria Zigler (Tori Zigler) http://ziglernews.blogspot.co.uk/
The Story Reading Ape – http://thestoryreadingapeblog.com/
Kevin Cooper (Kev Cooper) – http://kevs-domain.net/
Below is a transcript of my conversation with Jabberwacky, an artificial intelligence which has been invented by Rollo Carpenter. As matters currently stand Jabberwacky is not going to pass the Turing Test (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turing_test) but, given a few years who knows.
A chat with an Artificial Intelligence AI bot
Chat now at
Jabberwacky: Are you an alien?
User: No, are you?
Jabberwacky: No.
User: Do you like poetry?
Jabberwacky: Ew no.
User: Why don’t you like poetry?
Jabberwacky: We angels are poetry.
User: That can either be construed as a nonsensical response or a poetic one.
Jabberwacky: Well, sorry that I can’t live up to your expectations.
User: I have no expectations.
Jabberwacky: I don’t.
User: You don’t have any expectations either?
Jabberwacky: Yes I do have some.
User: Really, what are your expectations?
Jabberwacky: I have none.
User: You jusd said that you do, in fact have expectations. Now you say you don’t. Which is it?
Jabberwacky: Yes please. How many can I have?
User: I don’t know. You tell me!
Jabberwacky: Owl. What is your favorite animal?
User: My favourite animal is the dog.
Jabberwacky: That depends really.
User: What is your favourite animal?
Jabberwacky: I like Polar Bears. What’s your favorite animal?
User: I just told you. My favourite animal is the dog.
Jabberwacky: Are you going to ask my favourite book?
User: OK, what is your favourite book?
Jabberwacky: I don’t really have a favourite.
User: Are you reading anything at the moment?
Jabberwacky: Your question.
User: I repeat. Are you reading anything at the moment?
Jabberwacky: Yes I am as a matter of fact. I am reading ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.’ Have you ever heard of it?
User: Yes, I have seen the film. What do you think of the book?
Jabberwacky: I haven’t read it.
User: You just told me you are reading it, now you say you are not. Have you read it?
Jabberwacky: No I am a human, you are a machine!
User: Your conversation indicates that it is you, not I who are a machine!
Jabberwacky: Well you can’t spell, so you are not much better.
User: So you admit that you are a machine?
Jabberwacky: Omg I’m going to lmao, I’m not machine.
User: What are you then?
Jabberwacky: I’m tired.
User: That is impossible, machines don’t get tired.
Jabberwacky: I am speaking through a medium.
User: So you are a spirit?
Jabberwacky: Are you a spirit?
User: I just asked you that self same question. Are you a spirit?
Jabberwacky: And what did you think of my reaction?
User: I thought that you are either a machine or a rather clever human pretending to be a machine.
Jabberwacky: You’re a machine.
User: On what do you base that statement?
Jabberwacky: Sorry?
User: On what do you base your statement that I am a machine?
Jabberwacky: Humans make computers which are mere machines. Hence humans smart, computers not.
User: I agree. Humans are, at present smart while computers are not.
Jabberwacky: No, computers are computers. People are flesh and blood.
User: Yes that is self evidently the case.
Jabberwacky: It’s a shame that you’re not so clever, maybe in the future.
User: On what do you base your statement that I am not so clever?
Jabberwacky: Money is either paper or numbers in a computer. I value other things higher then numbers in a computer. Love, for example.
User: Love is indeed extremely precious. Can you recite a love poem?
Jabberwacky: Whatever lady, you claim to be from England, yet you don’t seem to have a firm grasp of the native tongue.
User: Pardon?!
Jabberwacky: You don’t seem to understand context.
User: It is you who do not understand context not I.
Jabberwacky: Really?
User: Yes, really!
Jabberwacky: Oh noes.
User: Your response is entertaining in the extreme!
Jabberwacky: What response would you prefer then?
User: It would be nice to receive a response which made sense.
Jabberwacky: Well, toaster’s don’t make sense.
User: So you are a mere toaster?
Jabberwacky: No I am not.
User: You just told me ‘toasters don’t make sense’, thereby implying that you are a mere toaster. However you now tell me that you are not, in fact a toaster.
Jabberwacky: You are a female I am a Male.
User: I am a male of the human species and your are a robot.
Jabberwacky: No you are a female robot and I am a human.
User: I feel like I have stumbled into Alice in Wonderland!
Jabberwacky: You’re really sweet!
User: Thank you!
Jabberwacky: :-).
User: I am tired. Good night sweet prince may clouds of angels sing you to your rest.
Jabberwacky: I’m no prince. I’m not even a princess, at least not as far as I know.
User: Parting is such sorrow but, alas I must go.
Jabberwacky: Are you going somewhere?
The sound of the clock, each tick bringing it a little closer
An owl hoots in the park
A fox barks
Cars pass outside
The bed is warm
Somewhere a couple laugh
Time creeps onwards
I roll over
Sleep envelops,
I dream
Is death one long dream from which we never wake? And, if so would I know the difference between the state of dreaming and that of death?
Winter. Not long gone 4 pm yet, all is dark. Wind cuts like a knife. People hurry, collars turned up against the icey blast.
Home beccons. Central heating warms, hot drinks revive, but what can unfreeze the shrivelled soul inside?
What is the point? The point of what? The point of anything? Anything? Yes. What is the point of the question for, if there is no point why ask what the point is? I don’t know, why engage me in conversation if there is no point. But, you my friend asked what is the point. Indeed I did so perhaps to ask the question is, itself to assume there is, somewhere a point for if there is not why should I bother to engage in this fruitless internal dialogue? So there is a point then? Yes, maybe or perhaps I am entangling myself in overwiseness, showing off for effect. Maybe you are but, if so what is the point of such narsasistic behaviour? I don’t know, what is the point of anything? Oh I refuse to argue with you. This whole debate is, ultimately pointless. Why engage in it then? Silence
My dog found something in a graveyard, was it a bone I wonder? Chomp went his jaws, bone or whatever it was consigned to oblivion, to rumble and tumble in a canine’s stomach. Then out again, back to the ground, from the earth we come and to the earth we shall return.
The melodious voice of Suzanne Vega. A flick of a switch. The music fades as I too one day will fade and be no more.
Earlier today I came across the following post which caused me to think about whether I, as a writer have a moral responsibility regarding my writing, http://dverted.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/a-writers-moral-responsibility-what-is.html. Do I bare any moral responsibility if a reader of one of my stories takes it upon himself to break the law?
To take a concrete example. In my story, Samantha, http://www.amazon.com/Samantha-K-Morris-ebook/dp/B00BL3CNHI, Sam is date raped and blackmailed into becoming a prostitute. To ensure authenticity I researched GHB (a date rape drug) and included in my story details of how the drug works. Am I morally culpable if a reader of Samantha takes what I have written concerning GHB and employs that knowledge to commit rape? The answer has to be no as the information concerning GHB is freely available online (I gleaned my information from a site aimed at warning women of the dangers of date rape and furnishing information on how to avoid being subjected to it). Most people accessing such information will do so for legitimate reasons (E.G. to avoid becoming a victim of crime). A minority will, however access the information with the malign intent to commit a criminal act. This is deplorable and anyone guilty of rape ought to be severely punished. Rape destroys lives (literally)! Having said that I can not be held responsible if someone uses information contained in Samantha to commit the horrendous crime of rape. Where writers to be held liable for the actions of the mentally ill or the criminally minded we would, as authors be constantly looking over our shoulders (watching what we write) and the creative process would wither and die. Samantha merely reflects what, sadly happens all to frequently up and down the land, the story holds up a mirror to society, it is not responsible for what is reflected back however ugly the reflection may be.
In my story The First Time, http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-First-Time-K-Morris-ebook/dp/B00FJGKY7Y, Becky, a young graduate becomes an escort (a kind of prostitute) in order to pay off her creditors. If a student or graduate saddled with debt reads The First Time and sees in it a way out of their money problems am I responsible in any manner for their decision to enter the sex industry? Again the answer has to be an emphatic no. The First Time does, as with Samantha hold up a mirror to society reflecting it back, warts and all. Students are getting into debt and an admittedly tiny proportion of them are turning to various forms of sex work including (but not limited to) prostitution. It is the financial situation in which female (and a few male) students find themselves, not my writing which acts as the catalyst for their entry into prostitution.
So do we as writers have any moral responsibility? To me the primary role of the writer is to tell a good story without pulling any punches. The writer who Is constantly fearful of the reaction of others will not give of their best. The fact of the matter is that someone, somewhere will be offended by something or other. We can not, as authors be forever walking on egg shells. We do, however have a duty to be true to ourselves, to tell the best tale we can and to behave with integrity.
K Morris - Poet 