Can a Machine Know?

This is boring and academic and I need to be able to get at it on a different computer so it's here in the mean time. Don't read unless you like philosophy.

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Dorkdom

Script;
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Emily Dickinson

Character Work
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Drama Portfolio

Yay!
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KABUKI EEEEEEEEE!

Love and Joy. No one in their right minds will ever read this but me.
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Exams

Hahahahaha, guess what?

I just got a phone call from my math teacher asking me NOT to take math next year.

Little did she know I'd dropped it months ago.

Mmmmm, life is good.



My only worry would be, of course, that somehow SFU decides they need to see my grade 11 math mark, which is utter shit, but they need my five highest and I'm taking a load of others.

The Visit

This poem basically represents Jack-Room for me, I don't know why. But it's what I think of when I think of them, especially playing with dustbunnies under a table.

Saturday night
The moon was bright,
And the Matians began to sing;
And the leader came down
In a calico gown,
Demanding to see the King.

The King was away
Till the end of May.
The Queen had a very bad back.
So the Peppermint Prince
With a packet of mints
Invited them in for a snack.

Saturday night
The moon was bright,
And the Martians began to dance.
Oh, the party was gay
as they gamboled away
In their brand new calico pants.

WE THANK YOU! They cried
As they gamboled outside,
Where the lawn was alight with dew.
(We thank you!) they whispered
In calico slippers,
As into the darkness they flew...)

Saturday night
The moon was bright,
And the Martians had flown away.
So the Queen and the Prince
Had the rest of the mins,
And the King came home in May.

The Abominable Fairy of Bloor Street

And like the last poem is Jack and Room, this one is Random. It has his peculiar morality attached to it.

A parking meter told me,
AS on my way I went,
"You're ticking like a time bomb, but
Your heart is pure cement.

"You haven't got a dollar,
You haven't got a dime.
You haven't got a lousy match
To light your coal black mind."

I bowed three times, and thanked him twice,
And punched him in the nose,
Then beat him with a want-ad till he
Tore off all his clothes.

"WAIT!" he cried, "I'm actually
A fairy in disguise.
I tempted you with gloomy thoughts,
To see if you were wise.

"You pass the little Sunshine test;
Now, here's your little wand-"
I picked him up and pitched him
In an ornamental pond.

I don't mind parking meters that
Get lippy now and then,
But I can't stand fairies going round
And doing good to men.

The Question

Random and Gorlim. Yes, folks, I am rereading old poetry anthologies, and yes I'm basically CRYING from the childhood memories, but there you go.

1.
If I could teach you how to fly
Or bake and elderberry pie
Or turn a sidewalk into stars
Or play new songs on old guitars
Or if I knew the way to heaven,
The names of night, the taste of seven
And owned them all, to keep or lend-
Would you come and be my friend.

2.
You cannot teach me how to fly.
I love the berries but not the pie.
The sidewalks are for walking on,
And an old guitar has just one song.
The names of knight cannot be known,
The way to heaven cannot be shown.
You cannot keep, you cannot lend-
But I still want you for my friend.