M Anandaraj
Stories (53)
Filter by community
When I Hated My Body
The elders gathered from the cornices of the island’s arms and we had nothing to say. Even hedge funds with the power to hoover it up and offer it back like tightly packed cigarettes were silent. When you were a child, your eyelashes were so long. We used to call you pilik mata. I almost posted this on “social media” You eat like you are being chased. You who are living. What is your responsibility? Illuminated light and holding the hymnal with your boyfriend, I wanted the poems to breathe prettily, to be ecstatic and extroverted citizens.
By M Anandaraj 3 years ago in Poets
Ballade Of Indignation
I’m driving through New Mexico, let’s say, facing the glories of the setting sun. But just before I get to Santa Fe, there you are, stranger, with your ganglion sized brain and SUV that weighs a ton, paying no mind to sunset’s golden crown, but nitter-nattering ninety-nine to one … so would you kindly put your cell phone down? I’m dining out, which is the perfect way to make the brain cells sing in unison, relaxing with my Merlot and filet, when there you are with that damned cell phone on your ear, discussing how some game’s been won and whether stocks are up or upside-down. You’re sharing all your life with everyone, so would you kindly put your cell phone down? Haven’t you noticed it’s a lovely day? The kind that makes you want to jump and run? But even jogging, you can’t throw away that cell phone, can you? Why, you’ve just begun to give your boss a sales plan that will stun competitors and make your rivals drown. Look out, you fool! You’re running down a nun, so would you kindly put your cell phone down? L’Envoi Friend, I’m no longer saying this for fun. Road rage has made me rampage through the town. I’m out of Prozac, and I have a gun. So would you kindly put your cell phone down?
By M Anandaraj 3 years ago in Poets
The Mediums
It took a week for us to stop hearing the voices. Although they had been our constant companions for years by then, a steady stream of chatter, it reached the point where they became unbearable. Each message had become a death to us. Just a little to start with, soft like the twitter of birds, not too intrusive perhaps, but then more insistent by the day, slowly overwhelming, until our own voices, thoughts, were lost to theirs. Eventually, it was us or them. They became mere shouts and remonstrations, pleas and cries, a tidal wave of suffering without pause, of snide retorts and performative assertions – the whole lot began to drown us. Turn off your radios immediately. So we tuned out our frequencies to a dead channel, fourteen billion years of static, that perfect state before the first authoritarians came, a numbness welcome to our battered senses, and, not without some small misgiving, we cut the line and left the voices dead. Thankfully we were left not too affected. They faded like the effects of nepenthe or the Martian atmosphere in Total Recall. Already, we wonder how we ever heard the voices.
By M Anandaraj 3 years ago in Poets
What is artificial intelligence (AI)?
How does AI work? As the hype around AI has accelerated, vendors have been scrambling to promote how their products and services use AI. Often what they refer to as AI is simply one component of AI, such as machine learning. AI requires a foundation of specialized hardware and software for writing and training machine learning algorithms. No one programming language is synonymous with AI, but a few, including Python, R and Java, are popular.
By M Anandaraj 3 years ago in Geeks
