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Sci Tech    H2'ed 11/26/21

I'm Not Who I Say I Am, Please Stop Me!

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I'm Not Who I Say I Am, Please Stop Me!

by "John Kendall Hawkins"

I've been under a lot of pressure lately.

Do you remember the scene in T2 when the amorphous copper has his way, killing everyone his target knows (and collaterals, too), with only the ex-governor of California there to get him to the next day of apocalyptic horror that only he can stop by continuing to be Good. John Connor, the Last Good Man on Earth (minus a wicked leaky condom, here and there). Kinda resembles a young Julian Assange when you think about it. Kinda sounds like a video game. Kinda sounds like my life right now.

I've been under a lot of pressure lately. Not just the prostate getting me up six times per night, like commercial breaks between nightmares. But pressure to Get Out! Evacuate the Premises! Resistance is feudal. Your Twinkie is mine! Real pressure.

I get by, as I can, and I can get by, if I'm free. But I have to tell you, dear reader, if you're not a pair of fuckin robo eyes lookin for algo rhythm, that I have never been under so pressure as the other day when I was proffered an opportunity to try out a new app. I'm not big on the apps; I hardly ever use the phone app on my pocket computer. Who would I call? Ghostbusters? But this seemed keened to strike at my "soul." I'm a poet, and, yes, I know it, and, as Dylan once added to the line, I hope I don't blow it.

This app promised to take away my essence, my raison d'etre. It's called Sudowrite. And I'm telling you, I'm as fuckin terrified as John Connor ever was with nowhere near any hope for the future of our species as he ended up with. Sudo write is a gimmicky app that takes a piece of writing you start and finishes it for you. It has to be fiction or poetry (from what I can see), and you start, with poetry, the first five lines, and it finishes the rest of the free verse poem (always free verse). I wrote:

free range chicken hawks on the loose again

can war be far behind? O, I hope so

I've burned so many bras and draft cards

dodging bullets in order to be free

on social, all my friends want to be like me

I had secretly finished my poem before going to Sudo to feed it the first few lines. Here is my finished product:

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John Kendall Hawkins is an American ex-pat freelance journalist and poet currently residing in Oceania.

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