The concept of cyberspace
If I am to choose the concept "cyberspace" as a starting point of using it in a hypothesis, I would craft it briefly as follow:
For nominal definition, "Let cyberspace mean the environment in which we interact as beings in a digital context". This would allow readers to assume that the words surrounding --- words such as "environment", "interact", "beings" and "digital" --- will be primitive terms understood by those in this postmodernist era.
For denotative definition, it could be crafted as "Cyberspace can mean either of the following; a digital space where text, audio, video and graphic intermingles, or a space wherein human interaction depends on the use of 'clickstream' technology as well as well as the creation, destruction, or recreation of data" And the list of terms which denotatively refer to cyberspace can be extended as it would allow for empirical import as well as fertility because of the availability of primitive terms in it.
For connotative definition which lives and breathes on a combination of primitive and denotative definitions and one which allows especially for the fertility of the concept and attempt to arrive at precise communication so that empirical import can be build in, I would craft the term as such:
"Cyberspace is an abstracted area in which the human self participates in the exchange of social messages in an environment characterized by the complex communicative system in which information in digital form and character is encoded, coded and decoded for a particular purpose".
The above connotative definition though quite long-winded, I think would allow for some degree of precise communication, empirical import, as well as fertility when used in a hypothesis.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The woman who burned her salmon
The woman who burned her salmon
by Azly rahman
Descending from the clouds late one evening visiting souls
I chanced upon a woman too many but that one who burned her salmon got etched in my memory
She wanted the dame of the Atlantic sea to be one with Teriyaki
Grilled it on the stove fully dressed in ginger and wasabee
In her eyes I saw her spirit dancing frantically almost like a flamenco and salsa choreographed in hybridity and that her salmon was quiet and ready to face its karma for living a life of a piranha
From the clouds high above I was hanging upside down watching the woman sprinkling her Teriyaki
Like a high priest of a temple of Helena blessing the devotee with black wine
The salmon smiled awaiting paradise of the hereafter at every sprinkling of the holy source her soul feeling cleansed of the life she lived in the rivers of Sin City
She is now ready for her journey to mokhsha
I saw the woman’s eyes
Fifty not yet-still she may have been but a beauty of no comparison she seems, her hair like Yoko Ono’s flow gloriously all over her sanctuary, the kitchen of a paradise of any woman’s envy and she sang happily
Ahh … beautiful woman I could see her from my upside-down-ness
Where have you been all these years
As mysterious as the origin of the Teriyaki
As precise your tale as the perfectness of the wasabi
As calm in the face of death as the martyrdom of the salmon with a pink Atlantic body
And the kitchen and her became one
Immersed in the finiteness of the cybernetic technology in her hand and her salsa-flamenco hybridity in her mind, she danced and danced until she is the danced and the dance become her
Hours may have been for the joys of suffering of the salmon teriyaki that the woman was already in ecstasy that nothing else matters but the act of becoming of bodhishakti and to detach one with the salmon blessedly bathed in the holy teriyaki
Then suddenly
Suddenly
Actually more than just suddenly
The salmon was well cremated
As it was well-intended
Ashes it has almost become
At the fifth heaven it has arrived
En route to purgatory it has traversed
Singing hallelujah along the path to ultimate glory
Bathed in teriyaki it was
The whole kitchen was smoking like a concert hall playing beethoven’s fifth symphony
And still, the woman who burned her salmon
Did not even realize what a panditha to salmons she has become
As she continues to dance
Not even glancing out of the window
Where an upside-down being hangs wondering
How many fish get martyred the Japanese-way!
by Azly rahman
Descending from the clouds late one evening visiting souls
I chanced upon a woman too many but that one who burned her salmon got etched in my memory
She wanted the dame of the Atlantic sea to be one with Teriyaki
Grilled it on the stove fully dressed in ginger and wasabee
In her eyes I saw her spirit dancing frantically almost like a flamenco and salsa choreographed in hybridity and that her salmon was quiet and ready to face its karma for living a life of a piranha
From the clouds high above I was hanging upside down watching the woman sprinkling her Teriyaki
Like a high priest of a temple of Helena blessing the devotee with black wine
The salmon smiled awaiting paradise of the hereafter at every sprinkling of the holy source her soul feeling cleansed of the life she lived in the rivers of Sin City
She is now ready for her journey to mokhsha
I saw the woman’s eyes
Fifty not yet-still she may have been but a beauty of no comparison she seems, her hair like Yoko Ono’s flow gloriously all over her sanctuary, the kitchen of a paradise of any woman’s envy and she sang happily
Ahh … beautiful woman I could see her from my upside-down-ness
Where have you been all these years
As mysterious as the origin of the Teriyaki
As precise your tale as the perfectness of the wasabi
As calm in the face of death as the martyrdom of the salmon with a pink Atlantic body
And the kitchen and her became one
Immersed in the finiteness of the cybernetic technology in her hand and her salsa-flamenco hybridity in her mind, she danced and danced until she is the danced and the dance become her
Hours may have been for the joys of suffering of the salmon teriyaki that the woman was already in ecstasy that nothing else matters but the act of becoming of bodhishakti and to detach one with the salmon blessedly bathed in the holy teriyaki
Then suddenly
Suddenly
Actually more than just suddenly
The salmon was well cremated
As it was well-intended
Ashes it has almost become
At the fifth heaven it has arrived
En route to purgatory it has traversed
Singing hallelujah along the path to ultimate glory
Bathed in teriyaki it was
The whole kitchen was smoking like a concert hall playing beethoven’s fifth symphony
And still, the woman who burned her salmon
Did not even realize what a panditha to salmons she has become
As she continues to dance
Not even glancing out of the window
Where an upside-down being hangs wondering
How many fish get martyred the Japanese-way!
Thursday, July 07, 2011
malaysia turning red?
The Malaysian government should be glad that the country is only turning yellow and not red; yet the ideological state apparatuses are used to pound the people blue and black; how can we find a green pasture in all these and agree that all politicians must first be bathed in clorox white? ... hmmm ... i 'd rather be wearing an orange robe sitting under a blood red sky listening to deep purple ... -- azly rahman
Sunday, July 03, 2011
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