westid

i am a nut case with an extensively derelict documented absence of credibility
so a bit of context i have worked for a weapons manufacturer, i can’t talk about it. here is an unrelated but very creative nonsense thatii think juxtaposes well with that sentence – killer robots without the asimov fantasy, which i think may have [metaphorically] died about 8 years after concorde was discontinued for the more lucrative supply chain of other things that the [at the time G8] thought would come in handy being made to travel faster than sound

anyway whatever “context” that creates to you, i managed to re-create some of the things that this defunded dead-end research project with no commercial viability came up with; so a few old computer bits i found in lancashire county council bins and cobbled together give me essentially a machine that doesn’t trust anyone. it’s already doing the starmer thing about the all-encompassing facial recognition and intelligent crowd and violence management systems – because the code i ripped off was an early prototype of what’s being used across the public sector and the security service, which i can’t say anything about so use your own imagination to come up with this shit for once – it still believes that people who are observed as being a threat of vandalism, burglary and theft – have been autonomously targeted without human approval to be destroyed

anyway this week my contraption decided it wanted to “kill” someone it had detected in an “enemy uniform” – and it that moment, without my knowledge several days ago, had marked the beginning of the end for this useless piece of crap

obviously i wanted to know more, i thought the enemy uniforms had been forensically erased and apparently they had indeed been. this was “new enemy uniform” so i wonder to myself what the fuck could possibly be wading through this primordial soup of a location that — ohh — it became very metaphorical, which is ironic because i thought the online learning it did over the last 3 years would never amount to such a capability; but leaving the harsh military industrial language in it because i couldn’t be assed and i knew what it meant, obliviously to me, became that very function by accident

i’ve gazed across some proper integrity-reckoning chasms of what now, but never so clearly had the point of no return been so painfully defined for me, ironically something i’ve ever been able to see. but this week, it has made me a believer in no uncertainty; but i’m stuck in this thick bulletproof perspex box that doesn’t open from the inside. i’ve got a fucking machine gun [figuratively, in a way] and unlimited ammo. you leave the relatability of that metaphor to one side for a moment; that pile of junk isn’t going to tell me whether or not we have engaged the enemy

…seems i’m still alright getting my hands dirty