“It All Comes Down To…” by Bill Fay

Whirling.

How can intelligence be artificial?

How can facts be alternative?

Everyone’s placing bets on the Cyclotron —

will it be a Neutrino?

My Money’s on the God particle.

WhirlingWhirling.

A silicon starred galaxy held in my hand

Learning everything useful and useless simultaneously

Portrait of a painting of a portrait.

Let the eyes mix them

A Mardi Gras dance of color.

WhirlingWhirling.

How can algorithms be pantomimed?

Avatarish analogs to evolutionary allegories!

WhirlingWhirling.

Phage therapy for Superbugs.

How can biotics come from antibiotics?

Antidotes from antigens?

Homeopathy for AIDS,

                      for SARS,

                      for SIDS,

My Brother should have asked me before he died!

STOP

Whirling

His name is Bill Fay. He lives on Fox Island across from Tacoma, staring at the Narrows Bridge, with his beautiful wife Nancy and their two bodacious cats—Baby Annie and Tucker Dude. He’s 63 years old and loves writing, drawing, hiking, biking, and walking. An advocate for rescue animals, he walked across Washington state wearing animal masks for rescue animals as “Crazy Stan the Animal Man.” A former lead engineer/principle scientist that now cranks out poetry—go figure? He’s “paper trained”–holding degrees in Fine Arts, Electrical Engineering, and an MBA.