Cultural Jammer

Still morning, soulless streets, grieving in groups of six, Our elites obsessed with party politics. It came out of nowhere with no means of escape, They said, 'all else is lost', as a new norm took shape. We braced for coming waves, anchored to the seaside, But no one could save us from the cold, turning tide. Seagulls followed sailors as a doomsday broke through, On her eyes of yellow, over deep seas of blue. We pushed rocks to hilltops to be freed from our thoughts, Trapped inside of our heads, webs of nautical knots. The crash of waves breaking, we braced for deathly night, Silence haunted the ether. Rock and Man took flight. Ascending, we embraced angels tangled in clouds, Safe from all of the sadness and the madding crowds. Part of us disappeared, lost somewhere in Devon, Searching for signs of intelligence in heaven. The place we are longing for, the place where we go, A blur of past and future that only time knows. Bonded by our desires and bonded by our pains, The stru...

 

Could forever exist in the seconds before our extinction? A story set in the future where infinite is contained within the simulations of a superintelligent AI commanded to find a solution for an existential threat that is about to wipe out humanity. The year is 2050. Humanity has used advances in artificial intelligence to improve life on earth beyond recognition. However, a singleton machine learning algorithm has calculated that humanity faces certain extinction soon. Imminently, an existential threat will wipe out all intelligent life on earth, but no algorithm can say  how  or when  it is going to happen. There is an equal chance that it could be climate change, an asteroid collision, a solar flare, a deadly virus, alien invasion or perhaps even at the hands of the machine itself. A global, hegemonic technocratic elite determine that for a solution, they must development hyper-realistic simulation technology that will allow them to simulate a multitude of possib...

Public service announcement (PSA for short, you imbeciles): this picture of me is circulating online. It is not, I repeat, NOT Margaret thatcher, even if that is what the left-wing ‘press’ (fake news) would have you believe. I was never pictured with Maggie, despite our fiery and tempestuous relationship behind closed doors. It was the anniversary of her death recently, so I've been reflecting on our time together and decided to write this message in order to dispel the rumours and finally put some ‘spec on her name. Maggie and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but when all was said and done, we would fall back into each other’s arms. Powerful in government and even more powerful in the bedroom, her penchant for bondage led to my sexual awakening as a young man and informed many of the fetishes that I still hold dear today. She would break me down psychologically until I was no more than a pupa, then build me up again using her command of the English language and deft te...

On the subject of suicide and social media campaigns Suicide is an important public health problem. In recent years, there has been a significant increase in the rate of deaths registered as suicide. While the exact reasons for this are unknown, the data seems to suggest that this was largely driven by an increase among men, who continue to be most at risk of killing themselves. For instance, three quarters of suicides are among men and it remains the most common cause of death for men aged 20-49 in the UK. Suicide risk involves contributions from biological, psychological, social and environmental factors. Sharing a picture of yourself on Facebook with a copy-and-pasted description about vague notions of positivity from a half-baked social media campaign doesn’t reduce someone’s risk of suicide in any meaningful way, even if it does arguably raise awareness. At best, it improves the accuracy of Facebook’s facial recognition algorithm. At worst, it fosters a feeling of disappo...

I remember it like it was yesterday. The greasy hair, the sweaty palms, the overwhelming l’eau de boeuf. Back then I’d begun making a name for myself as a fast food restaurateur  on Cambridge’s burgeoning Mill Road scene. A young Greek boy named Aristotle came to me with a head full of hopes and dreams of starting his own gastronomic institution. With a talent for flipping burgers and a gift of the gab, he was the Thelma to my Louise. I taught him everything I could and in return he taught me the Socratic method. At some stage, an old hand has to know when to give up his business to a young buck. That was some 20 years ago, and I still shed a tear when I think how far Aristotle has come as my successor. Oftentimes, on a cool summer’s evening, I will find myself walking down that same old road, the air pregnant with the soft laughter of girls and the fragrant aroma of sparkling Carlsberg’s. Stood outside my old establishment, I can see him stood behind those ceramic Greek...

Happy birthday to my gorgeous bestie, Cat Deeley! Can't believe it's been a whole year since we were living it up at your legendary bday bash! Quarantine is a bitch, but I can't wait to boogie to some Abba with you again soon! Love you xxx