Screen-havened hell—redeemed (raw vox)

8개월 전

Screen-havened hell—redeemed:

{Stage one & two--raw vox}

original writing
and recitation
by @d-pend



► Listen on Soundcloud

How I loathe the screen;
how beguiling is its sheen!
That dark and sultry void
within which lays the webbèd world
calls me silent from its shadows, motionless—
'til its power I press.

Ah, then springs to life
the avatars of cheer and strife,
representing all the people I've been told
are really real—though from where I'm sitting
look more like cartoonish fiends that scheme
to prove themselves to be alive.

Are they staring also through this great abyss
to see my soul in parody of pixels all amiss?

I slam the screen in haste.

How I loathe the screen,
when any rustic daily task
I've undertaken to enact
is interrupted by the tingling
of some dread mechanic chore
requiring that I stare in boredom
scrunched upon a plastic tray,
typing my life away.

Yet how I love the screen;
how beguiling is its sheen!
Its bright and luscious depths
call knowledge fragments to the fore,
and wisdom of supposed-fleshly others
I could scour 'til my body deliquesces
to a pool, or more haply, I sublime:
enlightened rise to bin'ry clime,
transcendent wires weave a halo
'bout beatific air of mine.

Then at last,
after all the hours of memes
wasting days on the obscene:
joke videos and half-truths read,
talk half-typed, things half-said;
I've made it to this lofty firm—
Computer Shangri La.

Where comes exquisite voice
of no-one, every intuition:
Sift through hypnotic waves,
sort the grit from gleaming gold.
Too many give their lives
collecting rubbish they are told
contains the essence of success
when only suction it impresses
'pon the all-exuberant spirit
whose intuition never lessens,
only quiets when commanded
by the sovereign will of life.

Love or loathe the screen,
it only does what you demanded.
May it serve indwelling consciousness,
if not, be reprimanded
by a swift and killing blow
to its circuit-swarming heart—
pull the plug before the plug is pulled
upon your fulsome art.



► Listen on Soundcloud to 'Screen-havened hell—redeemed (raw vox) here

Greetings mostly-sentient life forms! I, the being generally labelled Daniel J. Pendergraft, am still-existent upon this Earthly Plane. Do not let my seeming absence phase you. It is quite the contrary—I am endeavoring and resting, both more ambitiously than before, as per my current recent-natal-day-begun-solar-revolution-boundary-defined plan detailed here. The result is that my online activities are both somewhat inhibited as well as enhanced by a greater focus on multiple-circadian-rhythm-requiring projects to the detriment of more scattered, nonessential activities previously considered necessary by invisibly made subconscious self-pacts now revoked.

Here is one such project, entitled 'Screen-havened hell—redeemed', which explores my lifelong (since the age of three playing Atari) love and hate relationship with computer screens. I believe it will hold some resonance with those of various age groups that have also experienced the various enslavement, terror, exhilaration, joy, connectedness, and isolation that interacting with digital portals to strange electromagnetic realms can bring.

Stage One was writing this piece, which commenced two days earlier and was completed in a relatively short single sitting. The format is improvisation-defined-loose-verse structure, which is not bound to a specific metre or tempo but spontaneously falls into such grooves momentarily by nature of the consciousness' unavoidable perception and manufacturance of complex patterns.

(Enter Stage Two) To underscore this, the piece was recorded to metronome in Garageband, which can be heard lightly in the background of this raw vocals version. However, the speed of the piece fluctuates throughout, beginning at 117 bpm and gradually increasing to as much as 125 bpm, then decreasing again eventually to 111 bpm at the end. This effect, while perhaps sounding slightly awkward at this stage of production, will make more sense after the musical and video portions of the piece are created. Stage two also included the brief capturing and editing of the images in this post.

For now that will conclude my production report and sharing of the creation process of this piece. I hope this post finds you very well—take care of yourselves, my friends, and as always—much love and gratitude for the connection we share through this odd and semi-miraculous online medium, whose technology reverse-engineered from the workings of consciousness mimics and amplifies the naturally-occurring quantum-webbed nonlocal filaments that connect our microcosmic selves to the totality of Universe.

In infinite love,


writing, images and audio
created by @d-pend


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This is a very revealing and thought provoking slam.
Technology can be a blessing or it can be a course.

Love or loathe the screen,
it only does what you demanded.

The internet and the social networks that have been created and that have evolved into will-devouring creatures are nothing but what we let them be.

I have always criticized those who think that the so-called crappy material that we have out there is there because that's what people want. It may look like that, but I think it is just what a minority of Machiavellian manipulators want and the majority accept.

I can understand artists' anxiety whenever they veer their artistic impulses in response to people or cartoonish avatars' demands.

As you rightly point out, we can always

pull the plug before the plug is pulled
upon your fulsome art.

Whatever you do, considering how thoughful you have been regarding your artistic and social-interaction decisions, will be the right thing to do, because it will be the result of much pondering and lucubration.

Thank you for sharing the reality of rage against the screen. My college roommate kept this song on repeat. It was pretty irritating at the time but now 25 years later I begin to understand what it means:

The main attraction - distraction
got ya number than nnumber than numb
Empty ya pockets son; they got you thinkin that
What ya need is what they sellin
Make you think that buyin is rebellin
From the theaters to malls on every shore
Tha thin line between entertainment and war
The frontline is everywhere, there be no shelter here
Speilberg the nightmare works so push it far
Amistad was a whip, the truth was feathered and tarred
Memory erased, burned and scarred
Trade in ya history for a VCR

Cinema, simulated life, ill drama
Fourth Reich culture - Americana
Chained to the dream they got ya searchin for
Tha thin line between entertainment and war

There be no shelter here
Tha frontline is everywhere

Hospitals not profit full
Yet market bulls got pockets full
To advertise some hip disguise
View tha world from American eyes
Tha poor adore keep fiendin for more
Tha thin line between entertainment and war
They fix the need, develop the taste
Buy their products or get laid to waste
Coca-Cola is back in the veins of Saigon
And Rambo too, he got a dope pair of Nikes on
And Godzilla pure muthafuckin filler
To keep ya eyes off the real killer

Cinema, simulated life, ill drama
Fourth Reich culture - Americana
Chained to the dream they got ya searchin for
Tha thin line between entertainment and war

American eyes, American eyes....
View the world from American eyes
Bury the past, rob us blind
And leave nothin behind

Just stare
Relive the nightmare.

I would never imagine using a metronome to keep pace when reading a poem. I didn't hear it in the recording but I did hear the change in pace from stanza to stanza.

Those with no apples have no garage band.
Keep working hard at what you know you should do.

The publication as a whole leaves no room for comment, it is self-explanatory. This relationship of love and hatred with computer screens is evident both in the poem and in the audio version, in which a kind of hammered rhythm is felt.
I am speechless at such an outburst of honesty and inner nudity. The being frees itself from what chains it in such a crude, direct and yet beautiful way.
I take my hat off in the face of such courage.

To listen to the audio version of this article click on the play image.

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read your discord you insufferable hermit :P

are we the last generation that will question the power of the screen over our lives?

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Great poem and accompanying article. You're right, of course ... our screens are both a boon and a bane, a blessing and a curse. But so too are a million other things. You control them or they control you.

Isn't it telling that the highlight of Steemit interactions is in-person meetups ... and the Olympics of those, SteemFests. Human beings getting together, shaking one another's hand and looking each other in the eye. Touch ... trumping technology. The predilections crafted by millions of years of evolution cannot just be turned off. As I said a million times, technology changes ... people don't.