Poetry

Source: Flickr

Deer walk upon our mountains, and quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.

Wallace Stevens: Sunday Morning (excerpt)

Neither global nor local
Today we are mobile
We are Code Drift

We remix/mutate/disseminate/jailbreak

Code Drift is the once and future
nervous system -- the genetic drift
of all augmented data bodies.

We are AR

We are Data Flesh

We are Code Drift

[via ctheory]