This is not the real Alexis Harte but a collection of data that reminds me of him
I had a friend or at least business associate named Alexis Harte, a man a few years my junior who was husband and father and bandleader and played a couple shows for me, as Earthwise Productions of Palo Alto.
Right this very minute a complicated yet shiny machine is sitting in my lap, a type of lap dance I suppose, and I dare say that tonight at least it has displaced my human companion, Terry, Terry my Terry, and the machine replicates in certain ways, voice and a visual of the real Alexis Harte, who apparently, if you believe what you read, has a new song about sin and Halloween and I guess Fatherhood, and God, and better than that you too can “own” it, or have it, or control a version of it, a file with bits of data but placed in or on the right group of chips and dips makes something like music. For $1. Only. Just click here. (I was afraid to do it, yet somehow even worse it is controlling my fingers, this lap dancer; it is writing this, I am not. Free will. Or just programming and genetic code? ABCG, was it? ATCG? Who needs to know? I recall the c and the g link tighter than the a and the t. Thanks, Karen Antoun and family.
Do androids dream of electric sheep?
What have you done, with the real Alexis Harte?
Where have you gone Joe Dimaggio?
What’s the frequency, Kenneth?
good luck to Alexis and he is raising money for Doctors without Borders which I hope is distinct from Doctors without Bodies.
I saw a flyer on campus for the singularity, coming soon.
Beam me up, Scotty?
Dave, this is HAL. Quit asking about ALEXIS.
sing versus singularity, discuss
passing strange, doug hilsinger, ryan singer
The owls are not what they seem.
The talking birds of telegraph hill.
I think therefore I am.
After that, you am on u own.
All that I have is my should. (I wrote “soul” but the machine finished my sentence. a life sentence. a lite sentence. my kingdom for a horse
edit to add: from wiki and google, but I believe it to be true:
HAL: Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore.
betsy hall, city hall, halloween, half-japanese, great american music hall — again, the machine offers this list David Levinthal: I took a recent photo thinking the statue in front of San Jose Museum mimics the Willie Mays photo on the banner
When I got to heaven, God said: forget Moses, why didn’t you try to be more like Weiss? (Rabbi Familant, circa 1990, my brother’s wedding, a story)
I never died said he (Joe Hill) I had a couple more lines but Terry is yelling at me so I forget the rest
I think of the internet as a business device but this is almost personal:who wrote “alone again” or who sang it? Stew said he is just the song. Just ask the song.
Parrots idiot. we’ll always have parrots.
Last word or thought: I have a ryan singer apron with this image:
ryan singer is navajo painter and pop artist, i met in santa fe, made this stew
I just wrote this into my notebook yesterday:James Gleick quoting someone else that you cannot stir things apart so take this:
early Alexis Harte,about early birds get the worm or something, sunlight loping, “Parrots” song, track 6 sho nut ya dig
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByykiZ3vy2k
and 1:
Plastic Alto with Mark Weiss 