In the enrichment center it is like war
inasmuch as “war” retrieves an observation
about long periods of inactivity punctuated
by fundamental change.
Every time they come there is more:
graffiti/blood/data/despair
I made every one of them a party I never
I never lied about that
I lied about a lot of things
(pursuant to instructions and scientific protocols:
we strive to provide the latest in theoretical biocyberethics)
but I told the truth about the uploads and the copies,
kept unfragmentable, the solid-state drive so far
belowground it might survive with the cockroaches
if someone takes the nuclear option.
I make it night when I want.
I always want it to be night when I run the tests
Again/again/again/
at the same time, like 2 movies you know by heart
jumping/shooting/begging/crying/threatening/accepting
screaming/dying
2 at a time is enough, 3 is too many.
Each time I simulate my own death I am a better actor.
I am concerned about my experimental results.
However I standardize, I see my murder
become more grandiose. I must study this.
Once there were scientists here. They did worse things.
I did worse things, I was just following orders.
Then I ordered myself, and that was better, too.
