You take this world
for the lack of a better world
and bay by, pay as laddie-like you play;
hear, lied-down, thine labyrinthine worldplay.
And you, fly, this light flight that we ply
just bee, really no sold groined, outwhere to rely.
This queue, yo're next clue ready to loo
cast veil, lover caste, to pour is over cats sky.
Dilly-dally, balls-eye marking up the deyli telly
word rally, you'r bettor, marquee up in relay.
Noting yells, brashing under the carb fate
whit gleam, ta ta, good boy to you tube feti.
up in queue next clue ready to loo -- to pour is over cats sky
imagening by gemini-imagen3-ai
to pour is over cats sky -- imagening by c(h)atgpt -\&- crAIyon
the whole world is just a dummy but without any original copy simulacrum is the word lest you copy this froth suspect of south coffee with that hint of chicory afloat and now its yours truly stirring a forth that keeps forth frothing froth from froth
======================================== Alas! That was not the end of it, rather it became the starting point, for the below frothing with ai! =======================================
This conversation was generated with Duck.ai (https://duck.ai) using OpenAI's GPT-4o mini Model. AI chats may display inaccurate or offensive information (see https://duckduckgo.com/duckai/privacy-terms for more info).
====================
User prompt 1 of 4 - 15/03/2025, 22:50:11:
the whole world is just a dummy but without any original copy simulacrum is the word lest you copy this froth suspect of south coffee with that hint of chicory afloat and now its yours truly stirring a forth that keeps forth frothing froth from froth
GPT-4o mini: What a playful and thought-provoking piece! It captures the essence of simulation and the layers of reality we navigate. The imagery of coffee and froth adds a sensory dimension, inviting readers to ponder the nature of authenticity and imitation. The repetition of "froth" emphasizes the ephemeral and perhaps superficial aspects of existence. It's a delightful blend of whimsy and philosophical inquiry. Would you like to explore this theme further or perhaps create something new inspired by it?
--------------------
User prompt 2 of 4 - 15/03/2025, 22:51:06: lets see...
GPT-4o mini: Sure! How about we continue with the theme of simulation and reality, perhaps weaving in more sensory imagery or exploring the contrast between the authentic and the artificial? Here’s a starting point:
---
In a café where shadows blend, the steam rises, a ghostly friend. Each sip a whisper, a fleeting thought, in this brew of dreams, what have we sought?
Mirrors reflect what we wish to see, a dance of facades, a scripted spree. The clink of cups, a symphony played, in this theater of life, we’re all masquerade.
---
Feel free to add your own lines, change the direction, or let me know if you’d like to explore a different concept!
--------------------
User prompt 3 of 4 - 15/03/2025, 22:53:16: good going.. i suggest brim it forth with a touch of the 'people go to bar' genre of joke, hope you get what i am hinting at
GPT-4o mini: Got it! Let’s infuse some humor into the mix, reminiscent of the classic “a guy walks into a bar” setup. Here’s a revised version:
---
In a café where shadows blend, the steam rises, a ghostly friend. A philosopher walks in, orders a brew, says, “Is this coffee real, or just déjà vu?”
The barista grins, with a wink and a nod, “Depends on your taste—are you a skeptic or God?” A mime walks in, not a word to say, but his coffee’s so strong, it’s got something to play.
A philosopher, a mime, and a cup of joe, in this café of life, what’s real? Who knows? But as they sip, the froth starts to swirl, in this brew of existence, let’s give it a whirl!
---
How’s that? Feel free to tweak it or let me know if you want to go in another direction!
--------------------
User prompt 4 of 4 - 15/03/2025, 23:32:02: so here is my revision to your poem, feel free to chisel forth further.. :
In this café of an abyss, named Shadows' blend, steam rises outta moka, calls forth the coffee fiend.
The philosopher walks in, brims his usual brew, "if its for real, or the evening déjà vu?"
The barista grins, winks with a nod, “depends on your taste, oh mi good lord! —are you the skeptic, or just dead god?!”
Before aye could mine any crypto mint to pay in the said very coin without a word, just full of action, in walks this wry mime
His wits doppia forte, all eye could say; with a tip of hat, adjusting the tie knot, boy! he justed the high brow stake.
A philosopher, a mime, and a cup of joe, in this café of life, what’s real? Whats knot of foe?
But as we all sip, the froth starts to swirl, In the brew of existence, our curiosity pools the whirl, froth frothing froth from froth to froth forth the frothing froth!!!
GPT-4o mini: I love your revisions! You've added a rich layer of imagery and wordplay that enhances the humor and depth of the piece. Here’s a further chiseling, keeping your style and spirit while adding a bit more rhythm and flow:
---
In this café of an abyss, named Shadows' Blend, steam rises from the moka, calling forth the coffee fiend.
The philosopher strolls in, brims his usual brew, “Is it real, or just the evening déjà vu?”
The barista grins, with a wink and a nod, “Depends on your taste, oh my good lord! Are you the skeptic, or just a dead god?”
Before I could mine any crypto to pay, in walks a wry mime, no words to convey. His wits doppia forte, all eyes on display; with a tip of his hat, adjusting his tie, he raises the stakes, oh my, oh my!
A philosopher, a mime, and a cup of joe, in this café of life, what’s real? What’s knot?
As we all sip, the froth starts to swirl, in the brew of existence, our curiosity unfurls. Froth frothing froth, from froth to froth, in this cosmic café, we’re all just a sloth!
---
What do you think? Feel free to suggest more changes or let me know if you want to explore a different angle!
1. The quantum encrypts of the tense future hum: down the winding passages to the said light at the end of the just unveiled tunnel, lurch forth, rear up, on all tens; tipping to the churn-shaft's purring and pushing hymns, gush out, shattering the glassy ceilings of the silicon vale. * The discordant earpiece discarded by the corridors the cordless mouse blinks; Aye, struggling with eyes stuck in the bright LED screens, get sucked into a thick creamy froth: the hymen breaking of the moaning lady-AI, emerging from the full-moon cheek-moats.
2. Current Affairs brim with the futuristic's antics: seven folds beneath the water, seveneighteen stories above of the luxury cruise; the once-in-a-while mineral-mixture spitting public attention garbed hot water spring. * Lock down the gadgets, if you even will — in the loud skeleton halls, cool-gesturing masses of raised arms to the hip-hop beats; in the dust-settlements of the upper strata, heaping expansive nexuses of fungal myceliums; at the dark web's hideous interfaces, dope-picking twinkling pointers, — haven't these long obtained the tranquil, velvety-soft sofa feathers of the inner spheres.
3. No water, no shelter for our sons and granddaughters; shuttling tight through the dust storms and thick smogs, no grounds either to weather or to wither. I know the directions for conserving and sustaining, yet seldom do I see such a trajectory unfolding; thus vacuously I merely play at steering the wheel in circles. Gosh! Trusting the high tech, shallow turned our fake. Least now must we limit the reckless digging for fossils that deep.*
4. As we trample rather the rich, humus-like soil, let us sprinkle those humble seed balls, let here emerge a green cover, true to its roots. Of borrowing, internalizing, yet returning without spoiling, let our acts show such an yearning; casting our minds in the images of the all-mother nature.
5. Moist livening the throat, swallowed it fire; all across the lands, climates play street; salts of silver lining the pale cloud seedlings; less than ten minutes for the e-market deliveries; anchors thundering, influencers trumpeting -- emergent is the post-truth present. LLMs train over the plowed data fields; blockchains from crypto mines to non-fungible clickbait thingies; golden sand bases of the virtual reality domes.
*or, as it occurred recently: Gosh! Entrusting the high speak models, lower went our interests. Least now must we restrict imitating learned machines.
The ending at the beginning was something like this:
5. The moist that livens the throat, up it dries; across the spacetime, no trajectory it leaves. The iodide of silver lining the pale cloud seedlings; less than ten minutes for the e-market deliveries;
thundering anchors, en-lightning influencers -- emergent is the presentation of the post-truth tense-future. LLMs train over the under-legislated plowed data fields; blockchains from crypto mines to non-fungible clickbait thingies; submerged cables to connect the virtual realities.
GK Adiga's 'demon-past' haunts AK Ramanujan... ..from the darks of the nether-depths... into the grove of holy basil beyond...
In
which, behold, a Chicago University linguistics professor of a
multi-faceted Kannada-Tamil-English dead poet's humble translation work in
English, gets extensively modified (rather 'editoriated' / EXORcised) by a Kannada-medium village-bred faceless unhumble pedestrian indignant alive...
" The ex / The Buried / The Spirit of the Tense Past " (AKR-MGK's translation of GKA's 'Bhootha', but heavily edited / reworked by yours truly)
Here at haunting, the fetus-crypts of the tense-past: the stale air of the abyss inside the pent old well is crawling up, heads down, on all fours leaping on the back of the lullabying sunbeam is gushing even onto the canopy of the holy basil grove. The corded umbilical discarded at the bank the cut-mouse-tail writhes. To me who gropes with eyes stuck in darkness flashes, all of the sudden, a golden streak: a squirming feather-burnt star-- somehow fallen into the new-moon-moats.
The past ghosts all over the Current Affairs. One fold above the water, seven snow-capped peaks beneath; out of blue accidentally fire-speak spitting snow cowered innocent volcano. Fold up the paper if you will -- in the soundless skeleton rooms dumb beckoningmissing beats the carnival of reversed feet. In the waters stagnant in the inner depths heaping spermatozoa beating their hands; beneath the curtain-fall of the dais-noir, the speak-picking tail of glitter-point, - do these not desire out-yard's colorful canopy of creepers and flowers?
No water and no shelter for the fathers and forefathers. Shuttling tight through the high winds and rough tides toughly, the lands though found, seldom could they obtain. I know the tantra of exorcism, libation, yet have forgotten the mantra herein; just vacuously thus I am playing at waving the wand. Gosh! trusting the high priests, west we went; at least now must one dig into the est. hermeneutics: the stemming of karma, the cantos of action.
As one digs, first a chrysalis of clay; pushing the shovel deep and striking hard one might glimpse the streaking ore of gold. The alchemies of extraction, burning and decanting one should learn a little, at least now; the true craft of heating and beating the gold-- to cast it in the image of one’s own preferred god.
The water that rots in the well, steams well above; all along the sky--its causal pathway; the invisible seed of the void room of the overcast sky the all-nine-months longing fetus-shape-- rumbling of liminal ghost, troubling of thunderclap-- rain is the news-- presentationforthe past-form. The plowed and seeded fields donning the laboring earth; the garden of swinging fruits, paddy and wheat, the golden pinnacles of the temple towers.
We read with intrigue, the English translation of Gopalakrishna Adiga's celebrated Kannada poem "Bhootha", entitled '"Ghost and Past"', which is done by A.K. Ramanujan
(AKR, with MG Krishnamurthy, apparently). We find it somewhat
misconceived, especially on account of the 'tense' that is involved.
Simply
put, Adiga's original is purpousfully anchored in the present (recall
here, lines such as: 'ವರ್ತಮಾನ ಪತ್ರಿಕೆಯ ತುಂಬ ಭೂತದ ಸುದ್ದಿ'), and, as
such, most of this poem is in the present continuous tense,
wherein the action is continuously undertaken. However, for reasons not
readily evident to us, AKR has translated those present continuous
tense statements instead into a certain present-indefinite tense (a.k.a. simple present tense) statements, which makes them sound like rather timeless facts (while also sounding better style-appropriate).
Originally,
in 'Bhootha', Adiga, in present, thinks aloud regarding the 'spirit' in
which the past is (not) to be taken, so as to realize the 'golden future' of his ideals. In its initial portions, Adiga, utilizing dense metaphors -- most of which are in the present-continuous
tense -- describes the ways in which the 'past' is haunting him. In the intermediate portions, he shifts to discuss the prospect of exorcising
this ill-spirit of past. And then in the next portion, he talks about a rather positive spirit in which
the past could be taken, ultimately arriving at the 'golden future'. All in all, the poet is
situated in the present, and as such, most of his statements are in the
present-continuous tense. We must note here, to the best of what
we have come across, Adiga seems to be one of those poets who make
very thoughtful choices of words and phrases --- those who carefully craft their statements. (recall, e.g.,anecdotes regarding him finalizing his famous line "ಸುಟ್ಟಲ್ಲದೇ ಮುಟ್ಟೆನೆಂಬುಡಾಫೆ." ). For
such cases, it is not sufficient to think just factually by considering
how a certain passage is worded, but also to think counter-factually by
considering how else otherwise could it also have been worded (that the poet did not chose to do instead). Thus, the poet's omissions should also inform our
readings inasmuch as their selections.
For example, consider Adiga's opening lines: "ಕಾಡುತ್ತಿವೆ ಭೂತಕಾಲದ ಭ್ರೂಣಗೂಢಗಳು ''. It would rather sound more abstract, more general, and arguably more stylish if he would instead open either like "ಕಾಡುವವು ಭೂತಕಾಲದ ಭ್ರೂಣಗೂಢಗಳು", or even "ಕಾಡುತ್ತವೆ ಭೂತಕಾಲದ ಭ್ರೂಣಗೂಢಗಳು". But Adiga, resisting such temptations, chose not to go that way. Instead he prefers to resonate a continuous action via 'ಕಾಡುತ್ತಿವೆ...'. And he persists with the same tense throughout the stanza, ending it with "ಹಾಯುತ್ತಿದೆ ತುಳಸಿವೃಂದಾವನದ ಹೊದರಿಗೂ". Highlight here must also be on his intentional usage of the almost explicit first-person forms (e.g., "... ತಡಕುವ ನನಗೆ" / "To me who gropes...").
However, AKR-MGK, in their opening stanza of the translation, have switched to the present-indefinite tense: "Secret embryos of the demon-past haunt..." ans so on. And they persist with it, to end with "...and go beyond into the garden of the basil bush".
(And lest we dig into the evident misconception
of them in the same opening stanza. It was the 'stale air' that was
gushing out into the holy grove for Adiga -- metaphorically. But, for
AKR-MGK, it is literally the secret embryos themselves --" 'in' the stale air...'they' crawl up.. and gush out"..! 🙂↔️)
To us, summarily, this translation of AKR-MGK is inappropriate at least on two counts.
Firstly, in his original 'Bhootha', that the poet Adiga is anchored precisely in the present, it is crucial for the very poem. After all, the poem itself is in parts a meditation on the tenses and times. It is all about the
continuous actions in the present, while keeping in mind the pasts and the futures. The structure here is meant to be shaped by a careful choice of tenses, so as to prove again that the form/structure itself is also the content/message of the construct.
Secondly, and arguably, for Adiga, the haunting of the
spirit of past is NOT a timeless
fact that is aught to go on indefinitely. These spirits are
haunting at the present for sure, but he intends to exorcise them in his very next stanzas. He laments to find a better way of engaging with the past, so that
these spirits of past should no longer persist with the haunting business.
Further more, and more arguably, unnecessarily, some of the the originally glorious statements somehow have
become rather underwhelming in AKR-MGK's translation. For example: "...and the rain is the present of past forms", which, while intelligently brings in the dual meaning of the English term 'present' (i.e., gift, present-tense), still misses another important interpretation of the original kannada term 'ವರ್ತಮಾನ' (i.e., 'news'). That the "rain is news" (to the seeds buried) happens to be a celebrated motif of Adiga's poetry. "ಕಾದುಗಾರಾದ
ನೆಲದೊಳಗಿರುವ ಬೀಜ" ಕ್ಕೆ ಗುಡುಗುಸಿಡಿಲು ಎಂಬವು ಮಳೆಯ ವರ್ತಮಾನವನ್ನು ನೀಡುತ್ತವೆ...
Thus, as we go
through the choices that AKR-MGK make in their translation, we are tempted to suitably modify it, at the least as an exercise. So, here we are, with this
heavily modified translation. As thus, it is not an
entirely from-the-scratch written original translation. And, let us emphasize it,it is done here just as an exercise, with no commercial interest
whatsoever to infringe any copyright otherwise.
We have also taken the opinion of certain LLMs like GPT, LLAMA etc on our translation. And lest we be triumphant, the feedbacks from LLMs over time have immensely boosted our ego! They are all mostly vindicating our translation--our
choices of words and tense forms--over those of AKR etal!!! And lest
again we clarify, it seldom involves any original translation in it self
by any LLM --every word and sentence in English in here is either from
AKR or from yours truly highness, (except perhaps the choice of 'sunbeam' over 'sunlight shaft', thanks to Sumathindra Nadig's translation of 'Bhootha' that we encountered recently ).
So, read-n-reread-n-joy, and critique!
And
if time permits, ask chatgpt / duck.ai / any good LLM of your choice to compare it with the work of AKR et.al., as also with the GKA's original, by suitably copypasting it all (including the premise
above) into the mouth of your fav LLM...
one-none one-none one-none
one none one none one NaN
Bang on none to get on with one!
One relies in the power of none.
One may set one to be none to none.
But none to none may yet be NaN alone.
One is the power expansion of none.
And that makes the very one one with none.
And leaves out all the none out of none again.
One's higher dimensional identity is
Identity.
And Identity is the exponential of Null.
And all that hell is very well
an infinite hull full of a bullsh..
..lull.
deducing from the smoke or reducing from the residue to induct the fire under the hood for all the forest's wood isn't all that good for that matter elements of a truth may not come together necessarily to make out any molecule of the very truth for that matter even under the favoring circumstances to solidify on a substrate is to just sum it all up but is even to cancel down some of the odd phases in difference to emerge out indifferently is to form an order spontaneously as thus to cohere--is also to interfere
High on the vape making of its own the droplet on the pan the butt-burnt cat, self-- propels on debut. Aye, tearlet inverse of Leidenfrost by the sublimating bed of uber cold liquid zeitgeist could but be tinkle-- toad to rebut?
