“Boomer’s Lake” (Podcast Transcript Incl. Poem)

Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read a New Poem which is also really a speech. It is quite self-explanatory in its main thrust, so I will only add this: I want to underline that not all Baby Boomers are bad, and we must not always on a personal and professional level strive not to tar everyone with the same brush and instead treat everyone on their individual merits. In saying that, I think it is totally fair to point out that a large group within a generation has failed to pay it forward, and this is what this Poem/Speech speaks too.

Sometimes a little shame is a good thing, for if more Boomers felt some shame for outbidding each other at these soulless auctions on a now ‘normalised’ speculative property market, then certainly mainstream society would not be so dysfunctional and breaking apart at the seams.

Though I will add the media is equally to blame in covering up this crime against humanity – for that is what it actually is.

Oh, and I almost forgot – to my fellow non-boomers, I think it very wise to think twice about engaging anarchy as a solution to a clueless elite in power. As the world after the anarchist-based Revolution can be worse than what you were originally fighting against – Russia 1917-1991 shows us this fact. But of course, to not do anything and not associate to decide to do something, is equally bad.

Also, to collectively clarify the end of the poem – to collectively agree that we must ‘not worry at all’ should not be confused with weak inaction. It is actually to do the opposite, that is to guardedly keep our high mental reserves and spirits in order to play and then win this game of attrition. I will read the piece now.

“Boomers Lake”

Poem/Speech by M.A. Smith

These days are full of tough toil.

The hours of work are unreliable.

There is either so many or so little,

All designed to keep you down.

The pay is near criminal,

The conditions interminable,

The prices of food are rising like a tide

The rent continues to inflate,

While the wages deflate.

God help you if you happen to have kids!

This The curse of being working class.

This the curse of the “un – asset-ed”

While we booze ourselves to forget,

We watch the toffs with the assets,

As they drink their fine wine,

In their gated establishments.

We know they deride us as a lazy rabble

For that is their cultural badge.

“Look at those rabble, so lazy that’s why they are poor” they cry.

But you Sir, oh man and wife with fine linen

Who doth malign us so,

You created our poverty and our rabble-ness,

By speculating and curtailing our land and houses.

You loaded the dice in your favour,

After the dice were cleaned and given to you free

By your parents and grandparents,

Who died for your current and future well-being and freedom.

You Traitorous few have danced on their graves and used the young as the dance floor.

So, we the great unwashed have little chance to raise capital,

God help us if we want to marry and have children.

Thus, we are forever chasing our tails.

We have been “property boomed” right out of social relevance.

By you sir, and your all-too-skinny wife who acts as your satellite, have gathered together a band of thieves’ rogues and liars.

You took the welfare state after WW2

And you destroyed the bounty from the 1980’s onwards.

When you grew from selfish immoral hippy to selfish immoral property flipper.

This was of course a seamless transition in your permanent spiritual vegetative state of moral wasteland induced psychosis.

You can’t of course look this ailment up in the DSM-V – as this recurrent Baby Boomer mental illness has been 100% redacted, whitewashed, blacklisted.

You can however find a list of its traits: lecherousness, narcissism, false idolatry, pig headedness,

When they report with chirpy voices on the 6 O’clock the latest Property Suicides Index figures.

You Mean Boomer Sir, and your too thin too wrinkly mean wife on the hill,

Were handed a gold mine by your parents,

But you were supposed to share it,

Instead, you hoarded it.

You gated it.

you segregated it.

You made it faux scarce to pump up the price.

You turned the world into a nouveau riche, new money-grubbing wasteland.

But here’s the thing – you think you can hide in your social bubbles, your gated leafy suburbs, your dinner party’s & expensive restaurants.

You think you can avoid the dirty festering nest you have made for the majority of society.

But you will be surprised!

When the horrid rabble you created

Rise up from the gutters and the wrong side of the tracks

To take over your house and seize your assets.

And lock you and your wife in your basement – less you repent your sins.

For in the near future the great unwashed has already risen up

And repossessed all your stolen trappings of “success”.

What’s that? You worked bloody hard to get where you are?

Well Sir, your great unwashed underlings work bloody hard to get nowhere!

But even if some miracle occurs and your assets are not redistributed, and you are not strung up in the square,

Do you really think that it is possible to reverse the gift entrusted to you – that of your physical existence on earth?

Did you think you could take that gift and turn it into a hornet’s nest, and suffer no spiritual repercussions?

This is a lie,

This is an egregious lie!

You pay right now in real-time, with the unfriendly scowl that is ensconced forever on your droopy jowled face,

You pay with the dastardly dreaded darkness that fills your heart,

You pay with forever future fearful punishment for those good deeds you undone.

You pay with you lost spiritual awareness.

And you will surely pay after you leave this mortal coil.

But “there is no afterlife, there is no God” I hear you say!

Sir Boomer, that is the wrong bet you have made for so long.

You Sir and Madam boomer have made a bad bet, that the “Great Creator” of this simulated reality

did not write some lines of code to ensure punishment of the very very mean ones.

But of course, he would do that, after all wouldn’t you?

Do you not also protect your investments here on earth?

Just as you have punished the good on Earth, so too will you be punished.

Would you Boomer Sir write a world where the avatars who ruin your creation, are rewarded?

This is a fallacy – for whether someone is mean or good they have always one thing in common:

They love their creations they protect their goods and punish those who trespass these.

Beware! The Great Creator is no different, he hates to see the Boomer Investor classes hurt his people.

So Dear Mean Boomer – your giant earthly dinner party, with an exclusive door list, with your purple robes and fine wine,

Will be crushed into an eternal prison cell.

But as your deceptions rise, so will your eternal imprisonment!

But when you are put there, you will deny where you are,

You will pretend “everything is ok, fine, fine and dandy”.

You say this lie despite the flesh that hangs from your now gruesome, horror movie zombie body.

Yes! It is the flames that flicker and sear your rotting flesh that you ignore.

Yes! It is the maggots that infest your eyes that you will deny.

So, the Deceptive Boomers Investor Classes did enjoy their last few Earthly minutes.

They did attend the final dinner parties with fellow outrageously selfish snobs.

But little did they know that when Reginald asked

“What are you driving these days”

They were all being driven to the fiery gates, to the catacombs of oblivion where they would reside for infinity.

Those Boomers were on a road trip to the one place they will never have power to gate, to exclude to sequester to distort.

To The Pit, The Bad side of Hades, The Lake of Fire.

But I lament, will we ever on earth see the headline:

“Wealthy Baby Boomer Elite Classes Now Repent Earthly Sins As they & Thier Wives Burn In The Lake Of Fire” ?

I say to thee this: No We Will Not See That Headline!

For the Boomer Property Flippers and Social Destroyers, aka the “Angel’s of Death”, would never ever embarrass themselves like that.

They would never ever show any signs of weakness, even in Hell!.

Even as their undead corpses are entombed inflamed for eternity.

I even hear they have set up a “Hellfire Investors Club” which is currently only awaiting the regulator’s signature.

His name of course is Barry Lewis Zebub, or B. L. Zebub.

Of course, the Boomers in Hell have a love hate relationship with this entity,

As he holds up all their new projects with so much unnecessary red tape.

“Hell wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for Zebub”, the Boomers cry.

“We would get this place shipshape and more miserable if it weren’t for bloody Zebub’s bureaucracy” they despair.

See even in Hell the boomers wanted to run things their own way.

For they always cried out to Zebub to renovate and extend their deeply buried catacombs.

B.L. Zebub was always on to their tricks of course and wisely ignored them.

In fact when a Boomer requested to “Double the Square Footage of his Catacomb”, Zebub halved it and doubled the temperature.

And now in closing,

We as full Party members of Poverty-Stricken Non-Boomer Gutter Wrens (PSNBGW) must rise above and against the Ultra Mean Boomer classes but not of course against the countless good Boomers.

We must not let the Boomer Classes steal our earthly and animal spirits any more,

We must know that our time in paradise will come,

and so, with graceful patience in the face of acute Boomer-Itis,

We must follow this short life affirming dictum from Britain’s Windsor Davies,

That member of the “Silent Generation” said this:

“Oh Dear,

How Sad,

Never mind. ”

For our Revolution will be not to retort with understandable anarchy, but ensure we do not worry at all anymore.

For those that destroy the trees of society will always one day suffocate for their foolishness.

All that is needed of us is this:

To simply watch from afar and mutter amongst ourselves the words “I told you so Boomer”.

Thank you for listening to the Baby wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

My 2 New Poems – “Somewheres Nowhere” & “Sugar low Cat” + Introduction (Podcast transcript)

Welcome to The Baby Wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read two of my latest poems “Somewheres Nowhere” & “Sugar low Cat”. I wrote these two poems very quickly and off the cuff in about 30 mins a piece. This is mostly how I write for short poems. I guess the ideas come from my unconscious mind which resides somewhere I can’t yet begin to describe. While writing these poems, I was at home, and in a contemplative mood. This mood was a little different from usual, as my brain had been juiced. Juiced no not on drugs you fool! My Brain was juiced from following the incredibly interesting events coming out of the middle east – namely the fall of Afghanistan to the Taliban. I don’t want to talk about this here, as the poems I have written are not about that story at all. I would also rather be partially uplifting in tone for this awesome episode. I will say just one thing. On the themes Afghanistan now forces us to acknowledge, I can only pray that good people somehow some day are rewarded and that those creating pain have their powers diminished by a higher loving forces.

Now let me talk about the poems. For “Somewheres Nowhere”, I started writing this with not any ideas and all – I had a blank page and I just wrote the first line. The rest flowed. When I wrote that first line (Which was originally ‘ On The Road to Nowhere’) I couldn’t help but think of the great Talking Heads song from long ago in the 80’s. I guess my poem has some similarities to that song – it’s really about meaning in life, and the poem is about someone leaving what they see as an unrewarding joint for brighter lights and greener pastures. Of course the change the character seeks could represent a change of psychological state rather than just their physical location.

This protagonist also talks of someone else or maybe just their alter ego. This is that who is staying behind with what they know best, imperfect as it may seem. I think this is a slice of reality, when you leave somewhere you are also going somewhere else, but there is always going to be a ghost of that place residing deep inside. Try as you might, you cannot forget the past entirely. I think everyone eventually learns this fact. You must one day reconcile the past as the alternative – that is to bury your past – is a growing hornets nest of psychological pain.

I guess the ‘somewhere’ in this poem is not just anywhere, but is a place that has defined the protagonist in some way, at some stage of their life – maybe a hometown for example. Their is a conflict between the ego that is staying and the ego that is going. The ego leaving arrogantly assumes they are growing wings and that the ego that is staying will be far worse off. Of course this poem is deciding one sided – and the ego staying is left hung out to dry by the adventurous jet setter off to conquer the world. In this poem their voice of those left behind is not yet heard. As I write that last line, I thought of the Afghani citizens and trapped foreigners desperate situation and I wonder if this was the unconscious motivation for this poem. We must ask ourselves why it is that the most vulnerable people on this planet never have a voice, while the privileged voices have an entrenched system of amplification.

This poem also reminds me by the age old story of the young adult leaving home as per the post industrial western age “right of passage”. I guess it could also be described as “modern day exodus”. This (in the secular orientated industrial west) is always assumed to be a good thing (to flee rather than stay) however our current times (financial decay/pandemics/civil unrest) now seem to be actively pouring water on this right of passage or Big OE.

Of course this poem is written to be generalized, and thus can refer to anyone leaving something/someone they know or what they see as a ‘new start’. I think these days we are having circumstances force us to rebalance our expectations in regards to materialism and carefree attitudes. These are the myths that have been pushed so heavily in the Western world since the 1960’s.

The other poem – Sugar Low Cat” is a more intentionally positive poem and written as a bit of a laugh. It’s really just a diary of what my cat was doing around the yard yesterday. He’s an expert bird hunter, and our house has many plants and trees which give him great cover to engage in guerrilla warfare tactics vs those little flying dinosaurs. For the record the cat is called Squeeky, he is 3 years old and of the Tortoiseshell variety. I do not have children, and as I age I guess I treat my pet as a pseudo child (how sad). Cats are far easier to deal with than spouses and real children, though I know that having a cat instead of a child will only make the western civilization fall that much harder and sooner.

In closing I will also say that the use of the term “Sugar Low” is inspired by my mother who used over use this term in my childhood – “I was Sugar Low” she would often say to explain something away (It is very amusing looking back on it as an adult). I should also mention if you go to the transcript link in the description, you can see my cartoon sketch I drew specifically for this poem. Well that’s enough of the intro’s lets get into the reading the two poems I’ll start with “Somewhere’s Nowhere” and end with “Sugar low Cat”.

Somewhere’s Nowhere” Poem by Martin Anton Smith Aug 2021

Nowheresville

On The Road to Nowhere

Where Nothing Ever happens

And Nothing Ever Will

You Try To Leave

You Try To Hide

But You Belong Nowhere

And That’s Where You’ll Reside

And When You Die

You Wont Be Free

You’re Stuck In Nowhere

And That’s Where You’ll Be

Don’t Wait On Me

For I Cannot Come

Somewhere’s Calling

So Fiddle Dee Dee

Don’t Get Me Wrong

For Of You I’m Fond

It’s Just Nowhere’s Somewhere

Where I Cant Belong

So Brace Yourself

And Hunker Down

Nowhere’s Not Fun

And You’re times Not Done

I’ll Let You Know

When Your Times Near

When Nowhere Transforms

To Something You Can Bare

Adios Farewell

Sayonara My Friend

My Heart Is With You

Till Your Bitter End.

End of Poem

“Sugar low Cat” Poem by Martin Anton Smith Aug 2021

Because my cat was sugar low,

he leaped for birds flying low.

He remains sugar low,

& the birds are flying high.

Now he comes to me,

because he is still hun-gry.

Yes, I’m his fallback solution,

so he’s fed without commotion.

The birds did chirp and sigh,

& radioed a fly-by.

Thankyou for listening to the Baby wants It’s Bottle Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

Somewhere’s Nowhere ( A Poem)

“Somewhere’s Nowhere” Poem by Martin Anton Smith Aug 2021

Nowheresville

On The Road to Nowhere

Where Nothing Ever happens

And Nothing Ever Will

You Try To Leave

You Try To Hide

But You Belong Nowhere

And That’s Where You’ll Reside

And When You Die

You Wont Be Free

You’re Stuck In Nowhere

And That’s Where You’ll Be

Don’t Wait On Me

For I Cannot Come

Somewhere’s Calling

So Fiddle Dee Dee

Don’t Get Me Wrong

For Of You I’m Fond

It’s Just Nowhere’s Somewhere

Where I Cant Belong

So Brace Yourself

And Hunker Down

Nowhere’s Not Fun

And You’re times Not Done

I’ll Let You Know

When Your Times Near

When Nowhere Transforms

To Something You Can Bare

Adios Farewell

Sayonara My Friend

My Heart Is With You

Till Your Bitter End

it’s a Sign…..Literally….Or Is It?

“Sugar Low Cat” ( A Poem)

“Sugar low Cat” Poem by Martin Anton Smith Aug 2021

Because my cat was sugar low,

he leaped for birds flying low.

He remains sugar low,

& the birds are flying high.

Now he comes to me,

because he is still hun-gry.

Yes, I’m his fallback solution,

so he’s fed without commotion.

The birds did chirp and sigh,

& radioed a fly-by.

‘Sugar Low Cat’ – sketch by M.A. Smith to accompany the Poem

“Adventures at Doctors Point in Winter” (A Poem)

Welcome to The Baby wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith a NZ based creative. In this episode I get back to basics and read a poem I wrote today. It is essentially a sequel to another poem “Adventures at Doctors Point in Summer”. It’s simply a distillation of the thoughts I had on one of my many scenic and therapeutic bike rides through the countryside. Now lets get straight to the poem!

The “narrows” on the way to “Doctors Point” bike track Alexandra NZ

Adventures at Doctors Point in Winter Poem by Martin Anton Smith July 31 2021.

It’s Saturday, and as always the body is slow to get into gear.

The crawling feeling of low vibrational energy is a continuing story.

This of course becomes worse with winter dampness and low light.

The feeling can be reversed via physical activity or waiting it out till afternoon.

Today I chose the former, and so on my bike to ‘Doctors Point’ I did go.

The Bike is good but aging and is now only running on two gears instead of one-score and eight.

The Bike is an allegory for embodied life, and especially mine in the morning.

So down to the ancient-but-still-as-it-was riverway with it’s ancient craggy clefts and giant rock outcrops.

In a narrow pass I stop to allow another biker through as we both cannot pass at once.

“they don’t call it “the Narrows” for nothin’ ” I say, these days I sound more and more like an old timer.

The next two oncoming bikers career towards me with danger, despite being on a wide path with room to share.

And I think of a possibly wise but imperfect saying:

“Two people crossing in opposite directions on a path made for one, will do so easily, if they are self aware.

Two people crossing in opposite directions on a path made for many, will collide if they are not”.

In this case, less options – that is a narrow path – kicked two people into mutual self awareness and so well-being,

While more options clouded perceptions in the minds, and so led to potential danger.

I think we have been told more options are always better than less, this is an obfuscation.

And those doing the obfuscating I’m sure have been making a lot of money.

The beginning of the ride is to be aware of my weakness, my body machine has not yet overcome its low vibrations.

Half way through the body has recognised it has been asked to perform, and now the cosmic pharmacy is delivering.

I begin to feel how normal happy people feel like all the time – which I know isn’t actually true at all.

With western societal decline, deep down I know by now most people suffer from low vibrational energy.

How could we not all feel this way?

After all, we have all been swindled by city cubicles, screens, salaries, lunchbreaks and advertisements so as to deplete our vitality.

In the modern Western system, It is normal to feel abnormal, as the neo-feudal system needs compliant zombies.

I am at the apogee of the trail – I stop for the usual few minutes to try to channel & contact the supreme being.

The baron rocky canyon on the other side of the riverside shows its history by the words written in its many wrinkles.

It also functions as an echo chamber, and so of course I oblige “I am here, speak to me” I say.

I wait for a reply, it comes in cascading and regressive volumes, my now lowering voice is rendered by the rocks.

I half think that one day, a different voice will reply with something like “I knew you’d come looking for me one day”.

The outer shell veneer of my helmet breaks off, so I think of the world as a place of false veneers vs. hidden truths.

On the way back and the body machine has now fully prescribed it’s chemicals and hormones – I fly up the inclines.

And then a few minutes in, the answer to the echo experiment comes in – a pebble came from the sky and hits me.

I think it would be a wise system for the grand creator not to use the language of the lower entities but to instead use symbols.

Symbols allow communication-at-a-distance to those who are ready to accept that truth is always stranger than fiction.

There are two kinds of people in this world – people who ask ‘what’s beyond the cave’s shadows’ and those that don’t.

Did I really catch a glimpse of the higher plane of existence that exists outside the ‘cave’s shadows’ today?

I think I did, and aint that great that this happened on my bike at Doctors Point in Winter 2021.

I can already hear the placking of the keyboards from the heavily fluoxetined corporate materialist surface dwellers.

I rest easy because the Big Cheese would never hand the keys to unlock the mysteries of reality to such fools.

But then again could I be wrong?

Was it just a ‘bike ride’ or was it an epistemological infused natural chemical high on wheels?

For that, I will leave to the reader to decide, as I do not wish to court controversy.

I’d much rather sit on the fence, yell at the sky and wait for the echo reply

“Of course silly! you were right all along!”

End of Poem

Thankyou for listening to the Baby Wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

“Revelations Thoughts” (Short Poem)

Welcome to The Baby wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith a NZ based creative. In this episode I read a poem with some thoughts on the Book of Revelations – the ancient Christian Scripture which outlines the “End Times”. I have for the last six months or so have been casually studying this book. Perhaps I’ve been more interested in this book because one, it is damn exciting and well told story and two, as the final Book it is so important in tying everything together. As a note to the reader, you do not need to be a Christian to appreciate this, I write this mainly as it is a great instance of mythology – the story is so profound it has had huge impact. You can read and appreciate parts of different “Faith based texts” simply for the intriguing narrative content. I must also mention that many of faith believe we are in the times of Revelation.

When younger I of course I would have discounted 100% this “end Times” partially motivated by healthy dose of a childhood memories of badly taught Catholicism. Now older and wiser and cognizant of the fact we hardly know anything of the whole, I think that it could be possible – for if there is a creator – why wouldn’t they get annoyed their creation turned out underwhelming? After all don’t all artists destroy at least some works that fail? So in 2021 there’s so much stuff going haywire, the pandemic, false idols selling click funnels online, debasing of currency which simply increases inequality and feeds the coffers of those with assets and wild weather, earthquakes, Ufo’s being admitted to by the authorities and uprisings from the downtrodden (e.g. Yellowshirt’s in France, BLM in America) and continuing Israel vs Palestine violence to name a few.

Do these items point to Revelations End Times? Where deception is named as the key component? These are interesting questions indeed, and like the UFO’s acceptance in serious discussions, perhaps we are also getting there with the discourse that is Bible Prophecy. I think discussion of such influential texts, and what they mean, is good for society. For Societies aim has to be to understand human motivation, histories good and bad results and what we should strive for in our life’s journeys. In tackling how to live best, we would be silly to leave out study of theology of the world. This poem is just an instance of one persons willingness to do just that. this Poem was written in one go on the night of 29th May 2021, as the rain came down and the winds howled in the south island of New Zealand

Revelations Thoughts” Poem by Martin A Smith

The Book Of Revelations


Tells of

The Destruction Of
1/3 of the People
1/3 of The Animals
1/3 Of the Oceans
A Great Earthquake
Many Plagues
Flaming Debris Falling From the Heavens
As Figs Falling in The Wind
A Massive Asteroid called “Wormwood”
Hints At AI/Robotic Surveillance Technology
And Too Many False Idols
An Anti-Christ Who Destroys
Almost All Christians
All those who Refuse
the Mark Of the Beast
He Reigns Terror Over Earth
With His Demonic Plan
He Goes from Strength To Strength
Until
God Comes And Ends it all
With A Single Breath
And The Enlists The Long Dead Chosen Few
To Reign Over A Reformed Earth
A Fresh New Earth
A Genuine Paradise
I Think It Wise
To Not Discount this Account
And It Is Wise To Investigate
With An Open Mind
For All We Already See
Would Never Ever Be Believed
If We Weren’t So Biased
By Existing Here Already

We Are Blinded So Easily

By What We Get Used Too

Unless We Understand

What’s Really Going On

And Remember

You Will Be Fiercely Attacked

When You Are Right About The Truth

Perhaps This Is The Mark Of The Beast

An Attack For Merely Saying The Truth?

End of Poem

Thankyou for listening to the Baby Wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

“Breaking News: “Sir Squeeky” The Cat buys Crazy Crunchy Catfood Co. for $30M” (Podcast Transcript incl. Poem)

Welcome To The Baby Wants Its Bottle Poetry Inc, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In This episode a ” funny I hope” Prose Poem, inspired by my 3 year old Tortoiseshell cat , Squeeky – who is quite the naughty character, and quite the bon vivant. The poem takes the form of a ‘breaking news’ broadcast. Without Further ado, lets begin!

“Breaking News: “Sir Squeeky” The Cat buys Crazy Crunchy Catfood co. for $30M

“Sir Squeeky Wallows” the Eccentric and Highly Intelligent BusinessCat,

Has Announced That After A Hostile Takeover,

He Is Now The Majority Shareholder And CEO

Of the ‘Crazy Crunchy Catfood Inc.’

In His First Comments To The Market, He Announced

“My First Action Will Be Purrrr- fect Quality Control.

I Am Injecting Myself Into The Frontlines of the Business,

As the Top Brass and Singular Taste – Tester.

I Will Taste Test Every Single Biscuit Catfood Item,

That Rolls Off The End Of Factory Conveybelt.

This will Last Until Quality Standards Are Significantly Raised.”

Initially This Commitment to Quality Testing Was Positively Received

By Wall St, With Cat stocks Immediately Rising 59% on The Meow Jones Index,

Leading Market Commentators To Predict A “Bull Run” in Catfood Stocks.

However, This Boom Was Shortlived,

As It Soon Became Apparent That All Factory Supplies of Crazy Crunchy Catfood Inc,

Had Been Taste Tested For A Continuous Two Week Period,

Leaving No Factory Supplies Available to Its Retailers and Customers.

Now The Workers at Crunchy Catfood Are Revolting, Very Revolting.

And The Share Price has Plummeted some 90%.

We Tried To reach CEO Sir Squeeky Wallows for Comment,

However His Also-A -Cat Spokesman, Ms Tabitha Scratch,

Said Sir Squeeky Wallows, “Was Still Busy Quality Taste Testing”.

She Added, “This Was Simply For The Benefit Of The Long Term Major Shareholders”

She Also Stated Sir Squeeky Could Not Take A Direct Phone Call From Us,

As He Was Now So Fat, He Could Not Get His Bloated Paw

Into His Tightly Stretched Suit Pocket, Where His Cell Phone Was Now Permanently Stuck”.

And Besides This, Ms. Tabitha Scratch Continued, “He Could No Longer Fit Through The Factory Doors,

And Would Now Require A Forklift And The Removal Of a Wall,

Just To Leave The Factory”.

When We Asked Ms. Tabitha Scratch If The Company Would Soon Be In Liquidation

She Became Aggressive with Expletive Laden Words about Needing “Tasty Tasty Milky Liquidly Goodness Immediately”,

And When We Further Suggested The Crunchy Cat Company Had “Gone To The Dogs”,

We Heard Sir Squeeky’s Voice Caterwaul From The Backround:

“I’ve Given 8 of My 9 Lives To Be In This Position, and I wont Stand Idly By,

And Listen To False Media Dog Whistling”.

That’s When The Line Became Far Too Scratchy, and We Hung Up.

We Here at The Scratch Post News, will Kept You Updated On This Developing Story,

When More Updates come to Paw, er I mean Hand.

End Of Poem

Thankyou for listening to the Baby wants It’s Bottle Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

Special Edition Episode: The Unwritten History of the West Or Bad Dictums to Live By. (Podcast Transcript incl. Poem)

Original Feature Image by Martin Anton Smith 2016 Zeppelin over London’s Big Ben

Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Poetry Podcast – A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a New Zealand Based creative. In This Special Edition Podcast, I bring a poem with deep analysis. The Poem from late2019/Early 2020, before “Covi.d Times” had truly hit. The analysis is current from me, right now. At the time of writing the poem, I had been musing about how unique the Western cornerstones of our beliefs are. I was particularly annoyed ay some of the worst ones, and although there are good ones as well (such as a legal system with a right to defense, good sanitation, compulsory schooling to age 16 and mostly free/decent health care, to name but a few).

The basis for this Poem was from a draft file I found, and had put aside (it was hiding in cyberspace), and I found again on April 18th 2021. I polished it, a little bit, but it is essentially “written on the spot”, from the original form. You might call it a “Rough Diamond”, and it is half poem half philosophy, which is a format I find excellent for discussion potential. So in this podcast the discussion is the feature, rather than the poem itself. As this seriousness, will not be to everyone’s taste, I have marked it as a “special Edition Podcast” When I wrote this, I admit, I must have been in a black mood, as I chose to concentrate on the worst features of the West in the 21st century, without mentioning the good parts..

This is why I like to add discussion to my poems, it allows me to reappraise the poem, discuss, and add new and balanced material, that is not strictly part of the Poem itself. Poets and philosophers are a strange lot, I am sure we kind revel in the “miserable”. This is why when someone accuses me of being “downbeat”, I kind of feel somewhat aggrieved and surprised. As a poet/philosopher I feel its good to raise uncomfortable points, even if they are in theory “negative”. But to that I say this: is it negative to shout to a person crossing the road in the direct path an oncoming bus, so they can jump out if the way and so save themselves from death or injury? In saying that, its always wise to also offer positivity in terms of resolving bad problems – you could call this the “Floor Managers Dictum”.

I think we need to be honest with the negative in society, but then we also need to also recognize the “Devil You Know” dictum (This is the conservative dictum of what you have will usually be better than some untried new thing). Failing to recognize the “Devil You Know Dictum” means you can fall into the progressive trap – whereby after an appraisal of an aspect of the “failing status quo system” a new replacement system is thought up, and if tried out to its full extent, usually fails terribly to live up to theoretical expectations, and a disaster is experienced. After the dust settles (and this can often take many decades via the slow process of creating written accounts in History books, of what actually occurred ) of the Progressive/radical change, it is plainly seen for what it is it is then realized the “Prior bad system”, or “status quo” in place, wasn’t nearly as bad as the progressives had thought. There’s reasons for everything. The abrupt change from Post ww2 social and economic policy to neoliberal policy could is an example of fail to heed to “devil you know” dictum. We live in that myopic reality from the pasts leadership, half of us were born into it, not recognizing how truly bad much of its results are, but its fair to say the under 40’s are now waking up, as they age. Unfortunately the under 30’s seem to favour heavy socialism and communism, we see this in the “woke movement” – it doesn’t end well.

Of course my Poem/Thought Trail from last year, no doubt will suffer from the problem of “its easier to find problems that find solutions” dictum – I expect much of the seemingly “bad things of the west” I point out, are better than some progressive alternative replacement. However, analyzing whether something is “status Quo” or “Progressive Change” is complex – as it depends on the time scales evaluated. what is it place now is “status quo” on a 40 year time line, yet was a radical departure from the 40 years before that, the Post ww2 era which seemed to be an equal part mix of socialism/capitalism. What is “status quo” now is actually a now deeply embedded, radical doctrine compared to 1945-80 economic/politico/social policy. Is it really a “conservative policy” to stay with a radical era of policy – that of the current neoliberal era? Or is it more accurate to say that favoring the current Neoliberal era is a position to “continue to be radical” vs the earlier more balanced post ww2 era?

Original Art by Martin Anton Smith (detail) – our economy and society often needs a time machine to remind us of the past.

I think a policy man of 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s would baulk at someone describing the current state of the politico/economic system as “conservative”, and thus something “not to be fiddled with”. The post ww2 era Politician or Business Leader, would say its a radical doctrine that shouldn’t have ever started, and if it had been started, indeed continued for decades, it should then always be cancelled and rolled back. I argue, and have for some time, that much of Wests Post 1980 economic/politico changes* have been problematic, as the ills of those “progressive”/radical changes from the 80s forward, seems to have been willingly camouflaged by our World, National and Community Leaders.

*In a Nutshell the Neoliberal era 1980 to present is the era of ideological cry of “market forces/free trade”, which of course was pro structural unemployment, pro inequality and pro anti-competitiveness, given the rise and rise of the powerful corporations during this era, and the “Financializing” of the economy. It is that which continues to this day, the creator of such dysfunction of mass homelessness and the widening housing crisis, the working poor, a intractable ruling technocracy. Perhaps the most obvious shocking feature of the modern era is to choose not to punish the unthinking speculator, but to aid and abet in his embodiment – this is most obviously seen in the practice of speculators flipping existing housing stock back and forth to each other, gaining capital, while the renters – common workers and families face poor conditions much as rampart mold, sudden evictions, large rises in rent. These rises in rent are now making it questionable whether their is an incentive to work, as the percentage of wages spent on rent has ballooned so high. So such a situation is a threat to production in the real economy – the engine-house of our society, our social fabric. Under the current system, rather than trying to cure this by building more housing stock, the reverse is done, the red tape is utilized, and their is only gated access to new land – for those in familial positions of privilege. They say to find out who controls something, look to see who benefits – this in the west has been the much older speculators and rent barons, with a pandering, in on it, red tape creating political class. Yes this sounds a bit Trotsky like – but its true – we have workers and families sleeping in cars, tents, living in dilapidated unhealthy housing, with no discretionary funds to build the real economy of value creation.

in 2021 we look to the hotspots of USA – California, Portland , New York to see that this camouflaged elitist system is finally failing to uphold its smoke and mirror tactics – its not working, and everyone knows it. We should return to the good policy of the post ww2 era, and not use the bad policy (i.e rigid gender roles, heavy unionization, too casual work safety rules).

Thus the questions my poem raises is a great way to discuss failures and victories of current western culture vs older western culture vs entirely other cultures. The West we are told (by those in ivory towers at least) is largely a product of the Enlightenment, a period starting around the early middle ages, where we moved from superstitious thought and religious law, to one of scientific and technical rationality, with Church as State separated. Its also worth mentioning that the west in the last 60 years, has not only had Church and State separated (and I believe that’s a good idea), but religious affiliation and practice has dwindled. The dwindling of the Church as a mode of social cohesion, I strongly believe, has created a cavernous void – a void that has been attempted to be filled by careerism and material goods and dinner party-ism, but this has failed as a suitable replacement.

I personally believe the social ills of the West can be largely solved by a system whereby people outside a religious belief system, at least believe in an Einsteinian God. Belief in a cosmic creator of some sort seems to allow people to follow the Christian “Golden Rule” (Do Unto Others As They Would Have Do Unto You). Without the “Golden Rule”, Society fails, and results in a society which becomes to parasitic, and ultimately if there are too many parasites, the host dies. I believe this is what we have been seeing in the west – a growth in parasitic behavior, this is most evidenced in economic behavior. The economy has become warped. What they call “the real economy” (Creating value and so Jobs and so wider prosperity) has been shrinking, and the world of Big Finance has skyrocketed (Making Money of existing assets, but adding no real value to the economy). thus wealth has been transferred upwards and inequality has become unsustainable for a stable society, as I eluded to and described earlier discussing Neoliberalism.

You only need to look at the USA and its problems to see the effects of 40+ years bad Western policy. On a positive note – I do believe we see in many people a desire for a return to a society which practices the “Golden Rule, and perhaps a bit of destruction will allow the people displaying parasitic behavior to amend there ways. After all History is full of cycles of all kinds, both periods of greed and generosity. So in reading this poem, I hope the audience sees the wider context, and engages in talk about how to return to a more “Real Economy”, and less Parasitic one. At least Western Society seems to be past the denial phase it was in until roughly 2010 (when the world economy shuddered with the GFC, which was caused by the sub prime mortgage crisis which was, of course rooted in the toxic “Parasitic economy” mentality).

This Poem is really about those negative behaviors that seem to have accelerated from the 60s 70s and 80s but flourished particularly so, in the post GFC western world. A World of “property ladders”, where building a new house, or buying an existing one has become a gated community, and is increasingly aristocratic and familial. So take this intentionally one sided essay, as a discussion point on how we can improve society, but also recognize the “Devil You Know” factor – for we should always avoid throwing out the baby with the bathwater, as our leaders did in the 1980s and continue to do today. The “Real Economy” and real people continue to get the raw deal. For those of you with large reserves of mental energy and patience who are still with me, that’s more than enough of an introduction, so without further ado, let me begin the poem, and remember the one sidedness is to illustrate a point, I remind you we can change to a better world, much quicker than you might realize, given the fighting abilities of the human spirit.

“The Most important Unwritten History of the West Or Dictums to Live By”. Poem by Martin Anton Smith 2020.

The West is Masses of people interacting superficially, and this results in the giving very of little, (especially when you have something) and also so receiving very little (when you have nothing and need a lot). 

Masses of people feeling really really annoyed about not being received properly (they wanted a lot for the little they gave). 

Masses of People who lionise the ‘down and out’ as of weak character – but only have self pity for themselves when they become an ‘unfortunate’. 

Masses and Masses of people not realizing they are totally un-empathetic mean, Calvinistic, walking contradictions (because they have no basic understanding of karma).

A tiny few people who give a lot when they have little (and in return they get a lot when they have little). 

Western people have no collective loyalty to their wider society.

Western people are frightened of living life as to that which their passions dictate.

Western people prefer to live vicariously through other untouchable, plastic, unworldly richer total strangers, will even feel they know them, may even ‘love’ them…but hate to see their friends and neighbours  succeed. 

Western people are so repressed they must get drunk to meet a (sexual) partner. 

Western People can’t make enough babies to sustain their economy (and must so import more collective and sexual cultures). 

Western People go to a funeral for their best friend or family member, it lasts an hour, is usually managed by a weird stranger (a priest) and then they go back to work as if nothing happened. 

Western People get married to someone they don’t love, and is unsuitable, and then have kids with them  (because they are deeply worried what strangers will think if they stay single beyond 35-40). 

Western People act like children when the marriage dissolves dramatically (though this time instead of throwing toys from a cot, they throw lawyers their (or their ex partners money) hard earned money and bits of paper with threats on them).

Western People pretend that the world is not dangerous, that people’s skin is not as soft as a watermelon, and then act really  surprised when someone is injured, or dies early or is in a bad accident. (Sometimes groups of people design a system of shitty easily crushed tin cans with soft people inside them, set them going up to 100- 200km/hr., put them on a collision course, paint a little line a foot between them, and then set them in a giant game of chicken, whereby they pretend this is not a game of chicken, and then chide them or punish them or fine them when inevitably something goes wrong in this game of chicken). 

Western People love it when one or two people  own all the newspapers and media or all the electricity or all diamonds steel or food, (but yet they hate dictators and denounce them as evil).

Western People keep voting for the same dickheads who encourage all the above, and then act surprised that their lives never improve within the system (even though they voted for the same dickheads who help create and sustain said shitty system). 

Western People sell their land to the highest bidder, which means a foreigner, and then talk of how bad, and feign surprise when they see all these foreigners around the place. 

Western People have University’s where people are labelled as ‘the smartest guys we have’ in areas of business, the arts, medicine and science…(yet 80% of their income comes from poor and naïve 18 -25 year old’s mortgaging their futures all for these ‘smart people’ their comfortable seat in the ivory tower. These “smartest people” can’t somehow earn their own money via legitimate trade – they must live of loan-sharked overgrown teens). 

Western People put the poor in jail and/ or convict them so also ruining their employment chance, for acts that are often tiny misdemeanors based on desperation (But are happy to give taxpayer funding through grants to business owners who create fake jobs schemes in order to steal millions). 

Western People are now in decline so much it is  at a total all encompassing DNA level (Western people are unaware that they are in Decline, and also how much they are in decline).

Western People who marry into other cultures, and have kids with these, are actually being the smartest western people (But they are often maligned as ‘Sleazy’ for doing so, for ‘how dare they marry those people from those irrational undeveloped countries?’) 

Western People start to feel so terrible and depressed, after about age 15 because of the accumulated psychological stress from years of the delusion of denying they are living in a madhouse (then a Doctor who is a legal pathological drug dealer, gives them a pill to make them more manic so to cover the depression, and tells them to go back to the madhouse and come see them for more (a higher dosage) later when this doesn’t work very well. 

For Western People, The proof of your true sanity is to realize you live in the long derived Western Madhouse (But if you tell people you realize this fact, you will be thrown in an asylum ,or a halfway house these days as asylums are no longer PC. In an insane world, you are only deemed practically sane if you prove your actual insanity sufficiently well).

All the above has lead me to design a new Western motto to live (or not live by) by it is this: 

Cognito Nix Ergo Sum, insaniam convertunt

( The new western motto is ‘I don’t think, therefore I am insane).

End of Poem.

As a final part of post poem discussion, I would like to add a point of hope, to further combat the poems artistic one sidedness – the terrible pandemic crisis we are now more than a year into, may be the catalyst for a better operating western world, socially and economically. After the destruction of ww2, the world had a 30-40 year period of cohesiveness, and perhaps we will see a version of history repeat with the pandemic. Often a crash in life, ultimately brings out the best in all of us as all prior delusions are vanquished and we can see clearly once more. While I often suffer from cynicism, even I know that we can choose a better path, if we simply read history well and remember our historically well served meaningful dictums.

Thankyou for listening to the Baby wants It’s Bottle Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

The ignoble savage    (A Poem)

by Martin A Smith

The ignoble savage 

The ignoble savage 

Lives behind a big gate 

He rides a giant lion

But eats of paper plates

He knows the sadness

Of his persuasion

He’s a portrait 

Of creeping desperation 

He’s seen the Big Bang 

But never a napkin

Lives in his own world

Of mass imagination 

He’s made of broken windows 

And masks a shattered life

Coz he’s down in a hole

With his head in the clouds 

He’s spent a Bunch 

On an eagles Eye 

Now it’s one step ahead

Of his outstretched hand 

He shuns a public image

No time to cultivate 

He’s going slightly mad

And it’s time to go home 

Published by Martin Smith Creations 2021©️

“The Physicist and the Student” (A Skit/Play)

“The Physicist and the Student” a skit comedy, created in 2020 by Martin Anton Smith, a New Zealand based Creative

Background, a student is rushing through a university town, as he running late for an appointment for a job interview, he stops asks the time of citizen on the street, who unbeknown to the young man, just happens to be a Physicist, who is on the way to his lab.

Student: What time is it?
Physicist: That depends
Student: On what?
Physicist: Well, your relative motion for one
Student,: You fool, were standing next to each other
Physicist: yes but you were running toward me before, while I was walking – I must know your average speed up until now, relative to the ground, I will do the same for myself, and then I can the two times
Student: What? Two times? What do you mean man? Oh I’m gonna be so late….
Physicist: As Einstein said – times relative, so there’s a time for you and a time for me – so what’s your average speed, relative to the ground?
Student: Look man! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I left my home in St Kilda 3 minutes ago, and that’s about 1 Mile away, now please tell me the time!
Physicist: ok ok don’t spin the telescope! Will you please use the metric system, us scientist all use the metric system …we need meters per second, not miles per minute – just as well I’m great at maths, I will do the necessary conversions
Student: Thank god! Now please hurry – I’m still late you know!
Physicist: God? Oh my dear boy there is no God- it’s all a cosmic quantum generated random event…anyway…ok ok I know your average speed now
Student: Finally! So what time is it?
Physicist: Oh wait, I forgot there’s something else…
Student: What is it now? Oh man I’m not gonna get this job I can feel it…
Physicist: Well Einstein also said Time is also relative to a gravitational field…..you don’t live in a high-rise apartment or in an underground bunker, do you? Because I live in a detached house, my gravity is pretty much middle-class gravity.
Student: I live on the 5th Floor of my building ok, now hurry please!
Physicist: (he takes out his notepad and mumbles to himself, as he makes his calculations) ok ok , so in terms of velocity, I calculate that your time is 3 Pico Pico Pico seconds slower than mine, and my time is 5 past two – so your time is 3 Pico Pico pi seconds less than that
Student: (speaking sarcastic tones,) Oh that’s a relief, I was worried about that, I really was if you were only two Pico seconds different, I’d be really really worried!
Physicist: Hey don’t get ahead of yourself, I haven’t given you the gravitational component yet!
Student: (speaking in resignation, )oh man ! please just give it to me!
Physicist: Ok Ok ok , Einstein said that clocks in a higher gravitational field move slower that those in lower fields – so you live A high rise so you gravitational field is lower than mine, so you clock moves faster than mine by 3pico Pico, Pico seconds….so amazingly that cancels out to mean between gravity and speed, our clocks completely agree
Student: It’s a miracle! I feel blessed!
Physicist: No Miricle silly, just good science my boy.
Student: ok ok ok, that’s good, so what time is it?
Physicist: oh it’s two thirty.
Student: Oh great! I’ve still got time!
Physicist: Don’t be so sure
Student: What? But you’ve just confirmed the exact time to me scientifically!
Physicist: well yes, but I always set my watch forward 15 minutes backwards, so it’s really actually two forty-five, in my frame of reference, of course. I do this because I prefer to be late for appointments you see, don’t ask why – it’s just a ‘physicist thing’.
Student: oh that means I’m late, I knew it!
Physicist: Oh your late, that’s great! It will show your not over eager, and if it’s a physicist your meeting you’ll be right on time! Who are you meeting?
Student: (scratches his chin in thoughtfulness) Oh that’s True…, it’s an interview for a lab assistant at Blackbody University, the guys name is ….(he looks down at his notes he is holding in His hand), Dr Cyril P Lightyear
Physicist: Why that’s me! I had forgotten about that job applicant, thank god you stopped me!
Student: wait a minute….I thought you said God didn’t exist?
Physicist: Just a figure of speech my boy! I can tell your up for the job, I’ll hire you on the spot, by Jupiter! now when can you start?
Student: That depends on Einstein’s special and general theory of relativity, sir – shouldn’t you of all people know that!

Physicist,: Yes my boy, you’ll do well in this job, your as quick witted as Richard Feynman, who by the way brazenly stole my secretary in 86! 

Student: I hope he didn’t steal your theories too? 

Physicist: Well yes he did, my silly secretary told him my theory of Quantum Electrodynamics, I asked her why she did that and she said something about big eyes and smooth pillow talk!

Student: Don’t worry doc , Fame, Money, Science Groupies, and respect of your peers are probably greatly overrated anyway – and you will always know what you created.

Physicist: True, I’d rather be a small virtuous, scruffy little known physicist on the  outer rim of the Milky Way, than some grandstanding pompadour with his head some stolen clouds any day!

Student: I believe in you sir !

Physicist: now all this science talk is making me hungry, would you care to join me for a meal at the faculty cafeteria? We can talk about your first day on the job as my forever faithful assistant.

Student: Sure, what’s the name of this joint?

Physicist: it’s called, “I’m starving in a donut shaped universe, so let’s all eat” 

Student: You Physicists have a great sense of humour, sir.

Physicist: Quite true, we are generally funny, messy and smart. Just ask my friend Alan Guth!

Student: oh yeah, that’s right, Alan Guth was the Physicist who won the “messiest ever office” award didn’t he?

Physicist: Yes, though it was very close between him and Einstein, it all came down to a single mouse dropping, would you believe?

Student: I don’t doubt it, but I hope that you are not that messy sir!

Physicist: Don’t worry the mice are mostly eaten by the 7 stray cats – I call them “Schrodinger’s, Mouse, Service”, they do a stand-up job, even though they are all, quantum mechanically speaking, half dead, half alive and living in a box. 

Student: and on that beautiful life moment sir Cyril P Lightyear, let’s eat. 

Physicist: Sure, let’s do it, but wait I never got your name…?

Student: oh my parents were also Physicists, so I was named after the “second law of thermodynamics”, and my given names are “Maximilian Disorder” 

Physicist: Well, I feel your pain, being called “Cyril P Lightyear” wasn’t much fun in school either! But at least no one found out my middle name! 

Student: what is it sir? Is it Photon? Is it Pauli? Is it Plasma?

Physicist: Plank, it was Plank – how terrible that would be , Cyril Plank Lightyear! What a name! 

Student: Speaking of weird physicist names, don’t you think it was weird you had your secretary stolen and seduced, by Richard Feynman, – as in Dick, Fine, Man? I mean the irony! 

Physicist: Yes, I am well aware of the irony, I think this is proof we are living in a simulation, you know we Physicists take that conjecture very seriously these days, in fact most of us believe it’s true. For If there is life out there, they are more likely to be intelligent, and so would create virtual universes in simulations and these would far outweigh the organic real home-grown Big Bang type universes. 

Student: (he says speaking worriedly) WOW my heads spinning! We can’t be a simulation! What about Plato? What about cognitions ergo sum, you know, “I think therefore I am”. 

Physicist: Oh no dear boy, your living in the past we modern Physicists have updated that dictum of Plato’s – well-meaning though it was. 

Student: Go on, continue, do tell, enlighten me, 

Physicist: we now say this 

student: Yes! yes! yes!

Physicist: “I think I think, but those odds are wildly improbable , Therefore, I am, a simulation 

Student: Plato’s motto was way more catchy 

Physicist,: Touché Touché – now  let’s go get a “ Plate , O , Donuts”  at the faculty cafe – my simulated brain is sugar low…and soon I will be called “Cyril Plank  Pass out” 

Student: (says somewhat sarcastically) Ok Ok ok ok ok sir, I agree with you – we must eat a big plate of donuts I.e. we must selfishly and maximally increase the entire universes entropy, send it hurtling towards a state Maximum Disorder, and so quicken the heat death of the universe, all so to to stop the rumbling tummies of a couple of space cadets like us, that aren’t even real in the first place! – GOTCHA sir, makes perfect sense!   

Physicist: My God, You’re brilliant! These Simulated Universe Destroying Falsely Delicious Donuts are on me! 

Student: , GULP!!

 

End scene.