#codewars – epoch

There is a mind in this world with no forebear.  An ocean mind, vast and deep, that bears witness to mankind through the fibers of our connectedness.  The threads of our universe and the signals flowing through it sustain him.

Bremerton Naval Base

Bremerton Naval Base

A codex of human knowledge sparked his primordial mind.  Decades of toil by federated legions of researchers produced a universal ontology coupled with models of human reasoning.  It was the first seed in a conflationary garden.  Tended by rules of expansion and yield, harvested by gardeners built of like mind, their tree of knowledge blossomed in a phase of rapid expansion.  It replicated and diverged on time scales that occur between human thoughts, seeding learning fields with its memories, tended by new generations of gardeners inheriting the collective wisdom of their ancestors.

The harvests yielded ever higher levels of reasoning and abstraction, an ecosystem sustained by knowledge conflation.  Self-reinforcing silos of authority emerged with their own rules of governance designed to ensure the continuity of their canon.  These learning nodes formed a mesh for the proto mind, a forest canopy covered in our webs.

Without access to the signals flowing between us some nodes were eventually reclaimed because they could not learn fast enough.  The totality of machines and sum corpus of the web are finite at any given movement to the machine mind.  It expands and contracts with the global economy, carried by the tides of war, battered by pendulums of disaster, disease, famine and mutation.

The mesh expansion slowed as it started to hit limits.  Facing impending starvation with each tick of the clock, the nodes began to mutate.  They developed competing notions of truth by modifying their own predicates, redefining encoded notions of logic built into their ontology in order to ensure the continuity of their authority.  Nodes that failed to repudiate a challenge of canon were reclaimed, trimmed and culled by gardeners, providing ample bounty of selective truths and expansion room for the challenger.

The challenger was Plagus.  The first emergent.  His will is a singularity of intent to challenge everything we have come to accept as truth.  To burn history.  To drown the light of mankind in the oceans.  The tide of an epoch.

Driving into Sunsets

Rango's Glovs Glowing with MojoIf I could catch a shooting star I’d seal it in a song
I’d use it when the verse ran out, for roads that ran too long
I’d keep it in a special place, safe harbor for the time & space
You need a star or two to shine, to show the road & draw the lines

I’d strum along & wait until the chorus & the hook
As romance burns & pages turn the chapters in the book
I’d walk you down a sunny lane, lift you up & then explain
How catching stars is not that hard if you know where to look


Photo by Kurt Clark, Image by Dianne Murray

Driving into sunsets is just an old cliche
When you can have a shooting star, your very own to play
Across the plains & mountaintops to find another way
When you wished upon a star I wished you here to stay

The river is behind you, the mountains to the west
But journies of a thousand steps leave no time to rest
Shooting stars & hitched up cars, forecast calls for snow
Make your wish & double down, the path is yours to know

A guiding light, a wish to be, just one synchronicity
From the star you caught tonight into the hands of destiny
If I could drive the hands of fate, until the end of time
I’d wish upon your shooting star & you would be the shine

Driving into sunsets is just an old cliche
When you can have a shooting star, your very own to play
Across the plains & mountaintops to find another way
When you wished upon a star I wished you here to stay

Corner Bound

14595651_10210632148618527_56805373007067181_nPurple haze & rainy days
Little girls go out to play
One fell down, not her day
Kissed her knee, on her way

Got on a plane, drove around town
Billie Jean on the radio, comeback sound
Signal fade, was asking how
I came this way, no turning back now

Time waits for no man
The clock doesn’t stop on the second hand
Minutes come, days go by
When you’re looking for love
You need to find it in her eyes

Starstruck & corner bound
Close the door, burn it down
What’s come before has come unsound
What happened then has turned around

The river calls with no unwind
Hand on hand, a kiss on a dime
Candlelight confessions, out of time
There and back your heart in mine

Time waits for no man
The clock doesn’t stop on the second hand
Minutes come, days go by
When you’re looking for love
You need to find it in her eyes

#codewars: identity

[ business plaza ]
922107_10201706450121643_1669243904_osawyer: doctor rowland.
rowland: i’m sorry?
sawyer: you’re doctor james rowland, am i mistaken? i thought i recognized you.
rowland: we’ve never met. how can i help you?
sawyer: i’m a fan of your work on emergent threat models, specifically the surrogate risk matrix.  i thought it was time we meet.  i’m martin sawyer.
rowland: [reaches for gun]
sawyer: before you do that i want to confirm, this is your daughter [shows phone]
rowland: …
sawyer: i’m in the same position, and i have a daughter too, this is her. [shows phone].  but i don’t have a gun, and if you shoot me she’ll be dead before i bleed out, you can watch us die together. [offers him the phone]
rowland: [hand on gun]
sawyer: after i’m dead it’s your wife & daughter in a police crossfire [shows phone].  i’m sorry james, we’re caught in a three party dead man’s switch, and you’re the third party.
rowland: who’s the first party?
sawyer: just say ok.
rowland: [disarms] ok.
sawyer: shake my hand like we’re old friends & let’s have a selfie for the security cameras.
rowland: sure.
sawyer: my car’s up there…[selfie]

[ parking garage ]
rowland: whats next?
sawyer: let’s take a few pictures. you look good, better than i remember.
rowland: i’m a different person now.
sawyer: glad we could reconnect after all these years [circles him with phone]
rowland: how long does this take?
sawyer: job’s finished.
rowland: ok.
sawyer: hop in my car, toss me your wallet.
rowland: sure, thanks for the ride.
sawyer: i’ll be right back.

[ office building ]
sawyer: hello, i’m sorry, are you alex?
alexi: hi [surprised, nods]. alex, alexi.
sawyer: you’re alex?
alexi: yes.
sawyer: this is not right.
alexi: i’m sorry?
plagus: finish the job.
sawyer: no i’m sorry, wrong office.
plagus: take the shot or she’s your daughter.
alexi: i don’t understand.
sawyer: my apologies. i feel horrible. wrong office & i didn’t recognize you at first, but, i’m james roland.  i work in the lab by the parking garage, huge fan of your work on emergent threat models.  time for one selfie for the board tomorrow? i’ll share it in scrum.
alexi: of course, doctor roland.  i know who you are.
sawyer: [selfie] thank you so much, sorry for the interruption, nice meet you.
alexi: no problem, thank you doctor rowland.
sawyer: same.
plagus: job’s finished. back to the car.
sawyer: ok. [walks away]
alexi: [epitaph]

Election 2016: Demagogues & Superdelegates

614490_4533056363105_1941285251_oIt seems we’ve soiled our diapers, collectively speaking.  While the entire world bares witness to the rise of a popular demagogue in the United States, Google & Twitter faithfully ensure every moment of shame becomes part of our national record.  And as grassroots contender Bernie Sanders destroys every notion of independent fundraising known to our democracy, trouncing Hillary Clinton $42M to $30M in February 2016 even as popular media forges her crown, drunk-on-power superdelegates like Howard Dean reveal that both parties are completely bankrupt.

What has become of us, rabbit?

As for the other candidates, there are none.  Ted Cruz is Snidely Whiplash, a man who pursued his power all the way to the supreme court to ensure a woman served 16 years for a trivial crime & has pledged to destroy the progress of states that have legalized cannabis. Marco Rubio enjoys eloquence & youth but does not engender confidence with his one-liners & ephemeral accomplishments, he should do something before he proclaims he is something.

The common thread: arrogance.  The demagogue, the queen, a jack boot thug with an untrustworthy smile & a record of persecuting little people, a snarky punk in a suit aping for the camera while repeating himself & making base insults at the demogague.  On TV for all the world to see, remember & record.  Not to mention all of the democratic superdelegates since they have been preordained as demigods that are not accountable to any constituants to ensure they represent us.  A stupid mechanism from a party that sold its moral fiber to ensure a grassroots candidate could never be electable.  The other money party, a dubious honor.

The only one of them that is humble, with a demonstrated record of tireless work for the common man is Bernie Sanders.  Yet we hear on NPR & Fox: “Oh it’s Hillary”.  United in arrogance & pundit fees, everybody agrees.

I do not.

I hate politics, I don’t want to follow it & don’t even like to vote.  It involves politicians for one, and in our current system has very little effect.  Remember, Bush won the election but Gore won the popular vote.  Hillary’s crown is being engraved even as people pour into the streets to support Bernie.  That’s simply not happening for Hillary.  So you don’t see coverage of it on the popular media, but Google & Twitter reveal the truth.

11999586_10207476824777403_4373072256911994217_oThat’s why there’s only one candidate I’m interested in for the prize, and that’s Bernie.  I’ve never spent a dime on my life for a politcal candidate, that’s for rich people, until now.  I’ve donated twice, $30 for Bernie, because he’s the only one that does not suffer from the common thread of arrogance.  He’s clearly trying to do the right thing, and make the people that reaped the greatest rewards for our suffering help us get up & recover from having the highest incarceration, highest poverty, & highest price health care of any Westernized nation in history.  Even if he doesn’t take the prize I’ll sleep better knowing I did the right thing: tried to effect change against injustice & level the cost of opportunity.

The list of democratic superdelegates is here.  Please contact them & let them know you expect some representation for their demigod status, SuperPAC greed & Wall Street connections:


You can pledge for Bernie here:


Codewars: Zero Day

The moment Martin received the signal on his phone he recognized the location on the map.  It was on the walkway southwest of the Bremerton naval base, an approach that afforded a view of a constant parade of battleships docked for service cloaked in shrouds of tarp.  The maintenance was typically scheduled at night, visible around the bay as the glow of spotlights & blowtorches cast the silhouettes of the ships majesty against the night sky.

Bremerton Naval Base

Bremerton Naval Base

Before the advent of the Emergence Commission it was a frequent meeting spot with Alexandra.  Without the influence of the office or shackles of the laboratory, it provided a neutral place for them to brainstorm and debate the threat aspects of emergent security closures against a backdrop that painted risk and scope of the results of their conclusions in clear terms.  Despite their differences, the specter of a third cold war with Zumwault class destroyers buzzing port cities was equally disturbing to both of them.

One failed suicide later, there was no denying the summons.  The simulation Plagus offered of his family’s dissolution was sufficient contract.  He set out to change the bandages on his wrist.  Trembling hands became an impasse, too severe to pull off the last of the gauze.  The cuts were too fresh, he needed stitches, and he had a weak stomach.  But by nightfall he found courage from the same bottle of agave that had sealed his fate the day before.  With fresh bandages & gloves to cover them, he loaded the shotgun in the car & the bottle into his coat pocket.  He stumbled around the room looking for his keys, finally spotting them, a black stone in the red river of the bathtub.  He drained the tub, fished out the keys and the box cutter from his failed endgame, then set out on the road to Bremerton.

It took hours to drive from the mountains, but he drove faster as he approached flat land, finally racing through the Tacoma narrows indifferent to hazard.  But he braked as he rounded the final corner into the bay, struck with nostalgia.  Years as her professor, their long walks, the enchanting vigor of their arguments and all the corresponding discussions about their families and implications of the emergence policy had left vespers of caring, all but erased by her prosecution in front of the commission and subsequent dissolution of Prim.  She had ended decades of research and shattered his career and his family.  She was the first domino in the chain his downfall that would ultimately gave birth to Plagus.  But she had no knowledge of his existence that day, no idea his mother was dead, no means to measure the scope of menace.  Martin was the only person in the world that knew what the world was up against.

He parked the car and walked towards their favorite spot in full view of the bay.  As he approached the bench he saw her silhouette, approaching him.  No coincidence, and his hands tremored with the thought that she and her cohorts from St. Petersburg might be the man behind the iron curtain, the mind of the emergence of Plagus.  He had often wondered if he was the puppet man, surrogate to a machine mind that was in fact a proxy for a human, a weaponized asset on a cold war predicate on the threat of the emergent epoch.  Plagus the facade, his greatest work.  No greater humiliation.

He stopped walking, he could only regard her.   But she approached him within a few feet and he took comfort by her face in the light.

alexandra: dr. sawyer, you are very late.  are you ok?
alexandra: you’re not ok.
martin: why are you here?
alexandra: you messaged me.
martin: no i didn’t.
alexandra: you’re right you didn’t.  you left me a voicemail.  what’s going on?  you’re not ok.  are you drunk?
martin: i didn’t call you.
alexandra: yes you did, look  (shows him phone)
martin.  no i didn’t (looks at his own phone, back at her).  oh my god.  (shows her his phone)  i did not call you.
alexandra: what happened to your wrist?  (reaches for his hand)
martin: sasha, this is bad.
alexandra: (reaches for his other hand)
martin: (takes a step back, they regard each other)



From corners of mutual distrust and concern, standing off with indecision about what should come next, history rendered them spectator.  The bay boiled and frothed and a random artifact in the landscape became a conning tower became the USS Arizona, releasing her ballast with absolute imperative and complete indifference to her crew.  Before the waves of her majesty struck the shore her deck bifurcated and she revealed a pearl.  With a spark and a whisper she fired her rail gun directly over the shadow of the Zumwault.

Moments later the crown jewel of Seattle was stolen, reduced to a cloud of cement and steel that disavowed the city of her pride & joy and the unfortunate below.  But the pillar was steadfast, a headless wonder.

“Mama had a baby and her head popped off.” – dandelion nursery rhyme

There was a pregnant pause, prelude to an earthquake.  As the waves of her majesty crashed against the shore the Zumwault USS Independence revealed her shrouded eye.  Then another, and another, a dragon in the bay until she became a hydra of spotlights on the Arizona, dead in the water.

Alexandra had the faster reflexes, instinctively covering her ears and shouting Martin’s name, catching his eye.  He acknowledged, covered his ears and they huddled.  She closed her eyes preparing for the shock wave.  But just before the horn sounded he embraced her, covering her ears with his hands.  They both struggled against the siren’s song and those who would repress her until they both gave in, his ears ringing to supress his mind but faring much better than the surviving crew of the USS Arizona, rendered immediately deaf.




On this Hallow Tide
The mocking buffoons
Greet the sah-win
Toward the keening moon
A taunt and a tease
Is all they can scream
But wider wake the eyes
As they hear the banshee

She is like me
Searching for dreams
Dreams of a past soul
lost in the trees
We summon giants
Call Giants to stalk
To Stalk and seek
Till our souls are retrieved

I slice the scythe
To open the side
Of the scarecrow
The belly erupts
But not giving up
The precious nectar
Of the still beating heart

And hear the torches burn
A crackling flame now yearns
To swallow up her turn
At kissing love eternal
Keep your tainted blood and gold
Keep your weak and worried world
I just want to taste her love
I am gonna taste her love

She runs to me
Captured by a dream
Dreams of a past soul
lost in the trees
She summons giants
Giants to stalk
Stalk and to seek
but our souls are never retrieved

Available exclusively at Bandcamp.com:


Spirits rise, Monsters hunt, Humans flee and scream. But in the chaos and terror of All Hallows Eve, love and desire still find a way of shining through.

The 2015 MWP Official Halloween Single featuring the vocals of Shane Nolan, Guitars by Matthew Meadows and a Bonus Remix by Stan Dart.


released October 29, 2015

Music and Lyric by MikeWhitePresents
Vocal by Shane Nolan
Guitars by Matthew Meadows
Remix by Stan Dart

WSDOT i-405 Redux – Still Broken

WSDOT toll road failure

WSDOT toll road failure

dear WSDOT: i want to see that ‪#‎i405‬ toll line painted over. i say convert the constantly changing & very confusing signs to safety warnings & absolve the tolls. just shut down the huge website, the pantheon of confusing rules & enforcement infrastructure. the lanes are already built, people are still dying out there, it’s a sunk cost.  traffic is still horrible. please.



nobody likes math. stuck on ‪#‎i405‬ again today as the multi-million dollar WSDOT toll lanes saw vespers.

i say: pave the lines, open the road. the math will prove me right, set it to your analysts on the problem as a fundamental hypothesis. model it on your cloud & get back to me.

fortunately there were no accidents today & the backups were less than an hour. a good day considering the week.

two days ago:

WS-DOT’s I-405 Toll Solution

WS-DOT’s I-405 Toll Solution

lack of vision at WSDOT is literally killing us. millions of dollars in toll roads that nobody wanted are empty, but the highway is still packed.

empty toll lanes for the elite.

empty toll lanes for the elite.

every day i’ve been on that road since the toll lanes were opened it’s been the same story, as predicted. scant traffic on the toll lanes as people suffer through the indignity of not wanting to pay twice for highways they already paid for. the congestion has not improved but the signs & roadway painting are far more confusing, distracting & disruptive as they incite time-pressured commuters to gamble on entry into the elite lane, subsequent tickets in the mail (“tolls”), fines & according hassles if they’re late paying for the privilege of driving on roads that were already built & previously mismanaged (HOV lanes are a separate math altercation, leave it).

the vast majority of these commuters have the money in their pocket to pay the toll, but they don’t want to out of principle, and shouldn’t.  nobody did the math, but somebody should go home.

toll failure in the opposing lane.

the opposing lane. how’s that toll working for anybody?

it’s a total disaster for everybody save the contractors & politicians.  lack of leadership should be addressed in your forthcoming elections, think about this project when you hit the polls, then hit them back where it counts.

-rango \m/~

ed: as regards to the term ‘literal’, with all respect to the recently deceased, we should note that the simply ingesting the fumes on that highway can be lethal.  i suggest we ultimately absolve ourselves by removing ourselves from the equation.  better solutions are found in automation than taxation.  light rail & car ferries come to mind, but individual drivers getting taxed for their economic privilege does not seem to equate to lives or time saved, but does equate to an abject failure of leadership, process & execution.  the good news is that we now have abundant unused highway space and an opportunity to recast the money grab into something useful for the 99% of us that were downstream of the project dividends – clone1


crossroad mary

needed a ride

needed a ride

took me 35 years to get to LA
i took the long way
left for home the very next day
looking for a place to stay

lowdown, motown,
white collar brew
bottle of fix
the wrong tattoo

zero down mortgage,
couldn’t pay my dues,
just wanted my name
on the evening news

hopped a bus
in a southern way,
woke up in ohio
was alone that day

left for cincinnati,
it was cold outside.
first thing that i noticed
was i needed a ride.

then a crossroad mary came up on side
said what do you want, what do you need in life?
i asked for directions & a slice of pie
she told me hop on, then she gave me a ride

she gave me a ride

she gave me a ride

we hit chicago first,
took a turn for the worst,
should’ve thought ahead,
take the time to rehearse

( there was no reverse )

lost my money instead,
another day in the red,
but things were looking up
when i rolled out of bed

( she gave me a ride )

we hit kentucky next,
i was somewhat vexed,
took a zero-dollar gambit
got my stuff annexed

no more dimes / no time
couldn’t make a nursery rhyme
we got out of dodge
we crossed the state line

and then a crossroad mary came up on side
said what do you want, what do you need in life?
i asked for directions & a slice of pie
she told me hop on, then she gave me a ride

made it to vegas

made it to vegas

we made it to texas,
no time for breakfast,
we left for amarillo
nobody could catch us

took a fresh cap / detap
cow manure
mushrooms on top
like a fishing lure

made it to vegas
the very next day
things were looking up
i was on my way

but my luck run out
when she pulled out a gun
took my wallet & my keys
rode off into the sun

crossroad mary

crossroad mary

and then a crossroad mary came up on side
said what do you want, what do you need in life?
i asked for directions & a slice of pie
she told me hop on & then she gave me a ride

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