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10th November 2023

Adult Runner-Up

The Journey by Mike Nicholls

Sorry to inform you, stage 3B is what you have Lymph node melanoma, was not on my satnav Those days of immortality, a relic of the past Replaced by life expectancy, how many years forecast? The journey just beginning Panic permeating Mood swings oscillating Post op excruciating Lightness follows darkness, medicine on my side Immuno long word therapy, my defences amplified GHA oncology, firmly in the chair Bloods and drips and test results, a body in repair The journey aggravating Brain ache escalating No longer disbelieving Day to day upheaving Christmas comes and Christmas goes, normality quite close Not long ago so healthy, now a juxtapose The zeal for geniality, banishes the fear Belief in perpetuity, a resolution of new year The journey undulating Undiscriminating Belief reverberating Anxiety abating Katrina, Jess and Jason, supporting Dr B Grateful to professionals, and my family Now the treatments over, its fingers crossed and prayers Postponement of that trek, up eternal stairs Panic obviating Reinvigorating News once devastating Hope now radiating the journey.

Judge Charlie Durantes Comments:

Mike Nicholls with The JourneyWe have all encountered cancer either in ourselves or in our loved ones. In the 21st century, almost 50% of the population will either battle through this most devastating of illnesses, or succumb to it after a long, agonising struggle. Mikes poem reflects the harrowing experience of a patient who has faced the reality of a cancer diagnosis and is now enjoying some kind of reprieve.

3B is already an advanced state cancer and stage 4 could spell ultimate dissolution. The speaker is understandably non-plussed by the revelation: panic sets in, moods are uncontrollable, convalescing from the operation agony, then the long, excruciating journey into adjuvant chemotherapy or radiotherapy with their distressing side-effects.

Mike then rightly celebrates the friendly, professional help and support of the chemotherapy team (Ive met them all and can vouch for Mikes admiration). Then there is a glimmer of hope when the treatment seems to be working. The poem, which is so personal and intimate in its details, is testimony of Mikes resilience and his lust for life.

Formally, the poem is expertly structured with alternating stanzas of long and short lines. The short-lined stanzas, with their plethora of present participles, catalogue the patients daily struggle with pain, depression and fear. We can only wish Mike the very best in his journey to a permanent recovery. A very poignant, brave poem. (I am assuming the persona and the poet are one and the same person)

Adult Highly Commended

"My mother's hands by Gabriel Moreno

My mother's hands are now my hands.

In my skin I see the geography of her skin.

I remember, as a child, gaping

into the furrows of her hands,

wondering what journeys, what nights inscribed texture in her human wings.

Back then I fretted for my mother's hands.

I cursed the clothes that irked her hands

as she bashed the dirt of our days

against the sides of the stone basin.

If only it all stopped, I thought,

this endless cycle of dirty shirts

and stained kitchen cloths.

But my mother's hands are now my hands.

I marvel at the crevices and the holes.

Now I know no amount of leisure

can keep our hands from returning

to the rugged leather of the earth.

I remember the soft touch of her fingers

on my hair as she lay me down to sleep.

My mother's hands are now my hands.

Judge Charlie Durantes Comments:

Gabriel Moreno with My mothers hands. Gabriels poem is a loving testimony to the way we inherit some physical characteristics from our parents. Our bodies reflect the physical nature of our progenitors, so that we carry not only their genes, which are, after all, invisible, but also the colour of hair, eyes, shape of our mouth. Hands are specifically human; they not only shape the universe we inhabit, but create beauty, and convey our love and desire when we fondle and caress another human being.

The speaker here endeavours to interpret the deep message he finds inscribed in his beloved mothers hands. Before the invention of washing machines, female hands bore the unmistakable signs of the daily washing of clothes, shirts and sheets. Hands were chafed, deformed and raw. The son now curses the fact his mother had to endure this daily torture.

He has inherited her hands and even though they dont have to wash clothes, they yearn for the close physical contact he enjoyed as a child. She ruffled his hair, and his hands now feel the rugged leather of the earth.

We are often surprised at how often we repeat in our bodies the physical presence of our parents, and this becomes more uncanny as we get older. Gabriels poem is sincere, moving and unpretentious!

Adult Highly Commended

The Octopus by James McNally

She knows its time. He knows it too.

If he has any sense, hell leave.

She doesnt mind. Shed eat him alive

but not because of malice. No,

because thats what love is. Unconditional love.

A love that was once his is now hers

and is no longer his. Wisdom retreats

while she falls to the bottom of the ocean.

Above her head she strings a clutch of eggs

that almost look like offerings

like grapes, or passements around a bed,

crocheted comforters, plaited braids

they might be many things. If youd ask,

shed say, they are my chandelier,

an honest smile gracing a mouth

that has forgotten hunger.

Day by day they hatch and leave her;

gram by gram, the heart grows lighter.

Air rushing into an empty nest,

she swells like an upturned sail

and drifts towards the sun.

Specks of gold on the blue pass by

with their regards. She too regards them,

but memory paints grey on grey.

They forgive her. Why wouldnt they?

All that time waiting for one moment

only for it to go unrecognised, unspoken.

It happens to us all. Words are loaned

but love cannot be reimbursed

this much is understood, even

while her mundane garments wash ashore

to be picked apart by scavengers.

Judge Charlie Durantes Comments:

James McNally with The Octopus. If you have any romantic notions about love and sex, a quick look at the mating habits of the octopus will quickly dispel them. James has thought hard and long about the way octopuses mate and procreate. The startling message of this ingenious poem is how James has managed to describe what is in essence a form of murder and cannibalism so delicately and sensitively. The beautiful vocabulary, passements around a bed, plaited braids and an honest smile gracing the mouth endows the macabre ritual with dignity and a sense of purpose.

The young become specks of gold, and the dying mother octopus, her task completed, swells like an upturned sail. Her once magnificent body is now mere mundane garments, food for hungry scavengers.

The semelparous octopus seems to exist only to ensure the continuity of the cephalopod race. Tentacles, hood, large gloopy eyes, become senescent once mating and birth have taken place. James has written an absorbing poem, and the readers of his poem may need to brush up on their octopus lore!

Read more:

Poetry Competition adult runner up and highly commended - Gibraltar Chronicle

Highlights

The Hunter x Hunter Dark Continent is inhabited by extremely dangerous creatures, the likes of which have only been teased in the story thus far. Nonetheless, it is also rumored to hold treasures of immeasurable value so in the distant past, humanity attempted to send multiple expeditions to achieve these riches. Of these many, only five had survivors, and all brought back threats capable of leading humanity to extinction.

Due to the dangerous nature of these five threats, it was decided that setting foot on these lands would only lead to great disasters. The V5 signed the Treaty of Non-Aggression and all expeditions to the continent were officially banned for the 200 years that followed. That said, human curiosity and greed often prevailed, and 149 illicit expedition attempts were made. With a survival rate of 0.04%, few people have lived to tell the tales of these lands and very little information is available in the Known World.

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The Five Threats that exist in the Dark Continent are proof that this place is too wild and dangerous for even the strongest people in the Hunter x Hunter world. Not much is known about these threats as they receive no more than an offhanded mention, but what little is known is enough to classify them as far more dangerous than even the chimera ants. The threats that fans have seen are in a classified laboratory, and they are believed to have been inflicted upon humanity as penance for having attempted to enter these lands.

The first of the five threats of the Hunter x Hunter world is known as Pap, a dark and fearsome entity dubbed the "Human-Keeping Beast". Renowned for its unnerving habit of preying on humans and keeping them as pets, this enigmatic creature inhabits a secluded mountain range located on the Dark Continent. Despite its remote dwelling, the terror of Pap does not remain confined to these boundaries, and evidence of its activities has surfaced in the known world, with victims having been found far from its natural lair.

The Hunter x Hunter world knows Brion as The Botanical Weapon, the threat that was brought back from the second successful dark continent expedition. Though it is one of the threats fans know least about, its appearance has been revealed to be an ominous-looking human body with an enormous sphere where the head should be. Alongside Zobae, it is considered one of the weaker threats in the Dark Continent, but nonetheless, only two individuals survived the expedition which met its fate at its hands.

The second biohazardous Dark Continent threat is Zobae, known as the immortality illness. It is a disease that kills almost everyone who contracts it and of those who encountered it, only one survived. This survivor has now turned immortal and entirely self-sustaining, but this immortality likely came at the expense of his mind; he is quarantined in a lab with no remaining sense of self and no cure available, condemned to an eternal hell.

Hellbell and Ai are two of the most dangerous of the five threats from the dark continent. Though little is known about Ai in particular, both creatures seem to be intrinsically tied to the dark side of human nature, and both seem to be able to manipulate human behavior. Hellbell presents as a two-tailed snake capable of infecting its prey with murderous intent, though whether it is a single being or a species is yet uncertain. It is extremely ferocious and of those who encountered it, only 1% has survived.

Even less has been revealed of Ai, a gaseous life-form with limb like appendages known as the codependency of desire, though a popular theory identifies Nanika as a possible exemplary of this species. It is in fact confirmed that Nanika came from the Dark Continent and due to the similarity in the crushed form of their victims and the codependent nature of her relationship with Alluka, this is likely true.

Not much is known on the five threats, but what has been revealed is more than sufficient to demonstrate the unimaginable level of danger in the Dark Continent. Though Togashi has hinted at working on new chapters, there is still no release date, and the Hunter x Hunter community can only hope that the mysteries of this world will one day be resolved.

Hunter x Hunter is available to stream on Prime Video.

MORE: Hunter x Hunter: The Nen Power System Part I - The Four Major Principles

Read the original:

Hunter x Hunter: The Five Threats, Explained - GameRant

Lee Vitaht is a youth from Tip Valley, Nottingham, a slum area where the unemployed are forced to live until society can find a use for them. One day he enters a competition to appear on the Reality TV programme Live Island with the chance to win immortality. Lee Vitaht would love to live forever so he can finally witness Forest win the Prem and possibly see the Broadmarsh Centre flattened. But as Reality TV host Android Marr explains, we work in immortality, not miracles.

AI Up Mi Duck is an interactive fiction game that can be downloaded from itch.io. It explores the impact of technology on our lives and issues of transhumanism - the idea that we can somehow become untethered from our flesh and live forever. Nobody is quite sure exactly what transhumanism means or how it will work, but its got a lot of people interested and generated a load of cults, with Ray Kurzweil, author of The Age of Spiritual Machines (2000), the alpha prophet.

The hope is that emerging technologies such as genetic engineering, AI, cryonics, and nanotechnology can somehow help humans stop ageing and relegate death as a twentieth century inconvenience. One of the most extreme versions of this ideal is that our consciousness can be downloaded and rebooted into some kind of external mainframe computer. Lets just hope the broadband connection is stronger than my GiffGaff connection. But consciousness is not a tangible thing like a foot or finger and so whether you can download something that is difficult to define or locate is a bit of a challenge.

To help me research the game, I read Matt OConnells To be a Machine (2017), and discovered that the idea of connecting ourselves to a wider network may not be that far fetched. The body, after all, is a series of electrical circuits. If this could be emulated somehow, it would completely redefine what it means to be human. For those who cant wait for such innovations, fear not. You can get your frozen corpse stored in a massive cryogenic warehouse in the hope that one day medicine and technology will be able to reanimate the brain, thereby providing a second chance at life. Then theres the hubris of the life hack brigade who think that a strict diet and exercise will help prolong life. If getting up at four oclock in the morning every day to do 1,000 press-ups while bingeing on raw food is the key to eternal life, its a no from me. Its the quality rather than the quantity of life that matters.

In writing this game with animation students from Confetti, one thing became abundantly clear: I dont want to live forever. It would be tedious. Theres only so many times you can get Homer Simpson socks for Christmas or watch fireworks over Trent Bridge before the novelty wears off. Theres something humbling about coming to terms with your mortality that helps you appreciate your allotted three score years and ten.

Read this article:

AI Up Mi Duck: An Interactive Fiction Game Exploring ... - LeftLion

The teshuva process can be very vague and elusive. Unwilling to confront our own flaws and face the unpleasant truths of our past, we often spin false narratives, in a futile attempt to justify our botched behavior. For teshuva to be successful we must cut through numerous layers of self-denial. We must also summon the courage to stare at ourselves in the mirror and confront the ugliness looking back at us, without photoshopping it. Authentic teshuva is a difficult journey through the dark recesses of self and the deepest crevices of our psyche.

Viduy or verbal confession is instrumental in helping us pierce the emotional barriers blocking authentic teshuva. Judaism rejects any form of vicarious atonement, and therefore, confession alone can never provide absolution. Verbal confession is merely one step in a larger process of heartfelt and sincere teshuva. Verbalizing sin helps concretize the painful realities which we would rather not consider. Articulating a sin makes it harder to deny or to explain away. Additionally, enunciating sins makes them more vivid and more disturbing. Without distress and remorse, repentance becomes artificial and formulaic. By lending verbal imagery to sin, confessions assure that our past behavior is painful, and that repentance is genuine. Through confession we clarify, quantify and vivify our religious failures.

Registries of Sin

Though, ideally, confession should be personal, throughout history, a rich liturgy of confessions developed. Lists of sins were compiled into ritual confessions which were then incorporated into tefillah. Generally, the lists were structured upon the Hebrew aleph bet, with each letter addressing a particular sin or a specific character trait which triggers multiple sins. The two most famous lists are the confessionals recited on Yom Kippur, known as Ashamnu and Al chet.

While these lists provide a common registry of sin, they ignore other important areas of self-improvement. By definition, each of the entries of a viduy list addresses a very specific sin or a very specific area of human behavior. The alphabetized entries are very targeted and narrow, and they do not address deeper or broader character flaws. These foundational character flaws or super flaws are responsible for our systemic and large-scale religious failure and underperformance.

Every sin is rooted in a deep-seated character flaw. Ignoring these flaws and focusing our teshuva solely upon actions or behavior increases the likelihood of recidivism. Addressing symptoms of sin and ignoring the root almost assures that we will slip back into old habits and to familiar behavior. Telescopic viduy lists fail to address seminal character flaws or basic behavioral issues. Though the lists facilitate micro-teshuva they arent as helpful for macro-transformation.

Forgetting

One example of a broader behavioral tendency which causes extensive religious breakdown is our forgetting basic ideas and values of religion. Typically, we trace our sins to the overpowering desires which conquer our will and shatter our discipline. We possess a clear sense of right and wrong but are overcome by powerful needs and wants.

Often, however, sin doesnt stem from desire but from apathy or neglect. We allow important values to slowly slip out of consciousness and we push important religious principles out of our minds view. Often, sins are caused by religious inattentiveness rather than by religious weakness. For teshuva to be holistic and foundational we must repent for the sin of inattentiveness and forgetfulness. To accomplish that we must first ask: what do we forget and why do we forget it?

Forgetting Hashem

Sadly, we live in a secular era, in which much of humanity has completely forgotten that Hashem exists. Even believers though, in their own way, sometimes forget Hashem. We dont deny His existence or His authority, but we become so engrossed in our own lives and our own pursuits that Hashem becomes a sideshow. Instead of fixing Hashem as the epicenter of our lives, we think about Him from time to time, pray to Him when we need Him, but relegate Him to the margins of our consciousness. We dont deny Him, nor do we even devalue Him, but we do decentralize Him. We dont forget Him, but we also dont remember Him often enough.

Additionally, we sometimes forget Hashem by not sufficiently attributing our success to Him. Repeatedly, the Torah warns us that success will morally fatten us, making us arrogant, ungrateful, and religiously insensitive. The scenes dont portray atheism or the crime of marginalizing Hashem, but a scenario in which we are hypnotized by success and slip into ingratitude. As a gateway to numerous other moral failures arrogance is inherently harmful. In additional, too much self-confidence obscures human frailty and human dependence upon Hashem. Success blurs our vision of Hashem. We know He exists, but we dont trace our success back to Him, so, in effect, we forget him.

We ask forgiveness for the various ways by which we forgot Hashem.

Forgetting Immortality

Sin also emerges when we confuse eternity with transience. Wrapped up in the present, we lose perspective of human immortality. A very famous dictum of the mishna, recited at funerals, urges us to consider from where we came, where we are headed to, and in front of Whom we will be held accountable. By reminding us of human mortality on Earth, this reductive advice prevents us from being trapped in the present. Often this world captivates us with its glamorous pizzazz, and we ignore duty, mission, responsibility and, of course, eternity. We get stuck in the immediate and lose track of the long term. Every sin is a tragic exchange of eternity for immediate needs, which quickly fade. Endlessly executing these sad transactions of sin, we become stuck in the needs of the present, which often leads us to sin.

We ask forgiveness for forgetting the eternity of Man.

Forgetting Jewish History

A third vision we often forget is the trajectory of Jewish history. We forget that we live as part of a large intergenerational community of people who stand for Hashem in this world. We are all miracles, the product of great sacrifice on behalf of Jewish destiny. Viewing our lives as part of something larger than ourselves amplifies our experience. Forgetting our common Jewish narrative shrinks us into lonely individuals. Sin is always a triumph of small mindedness over large mindedness.

Over the past year, too many Israelis forgetting our common heritage have sinned. Independent of whatever political opinion we believe in, we have spewed too much hate and have generated too much polarization. Eighty years ago, a murderer named Joseph Mengele divided us into left and right, horrific designations which decided life and death. Today we glibly use the terms left and right to cluster people into clumsy political groupings. Once we group them they are easier to assail or to insult.

We ask for forgiveness for forgetting our common past and our common future? How could we?

Hopefully, this Yom Kippur, in addition to repenting for specific sins, we will ask Hashem to forgive us for forgetting. Too often we forgot Him, or forgot to think of Him correctly. Too often, we forgot eternity by tragically exchanging it for the passing needs of transience. Too often, we forgot Jewish history and sank into the dark doctrines of radicalized politics and culture wars.

Forgive us Hashem, for we have forgotten.

The rest is here:

Yom Kippur: Forgive Us For Forgetting - The Jewish Press - JewishPress.com

In January 1818, Mary Shelley anonymously published a strange little novel that would eventually make her world-famous. Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus is the story of a scientist, Victor Frankenstein, who is driven by an unrelenting thirst for knowledge, an ambition to penetrate the secrets of nature, heaven, and Earth. He works tirelessly to engineer a sentient being who, upon coming alive, is hideous to him.Realizing with horror that his plan has gone awry, Frankenstein flees his creature who in turn angrily chases him to the end of the Earth and finally destroys him at the novels end.

Shelleys dystopian tale has managed to stay relevant since its publication.It has a riddling, Zen koan-like quality that has edified and entertained readers for centuries, inspiring a range of interpretations.Recently, it has been making appearances in the heated debates over generative artificial intelligence, where it often is evoked as a cautionary tale about the dangers of scientific overreach.Some worry that in pursuing technologies like AI, we are recklessly consigning our species to Victor Frankensteins tragic fate.Our wonderchildren, our miraculous machines, might ultimately destroy us. This fear is an expression of what science fiction writer Isaac Asimov once called the Frankenstein complex, a Luddite fear of robots.

Strangely, its not only Luddites expressing such fears today; it is also some of the people who are most aggressively at the forefront of technological innovation.Elon Musk seemed to have had Mary Shelleys story in mind when he warned a World Government Summit in Dubai in 2017 that sometimes a scientist will get so engrossed in their work that they dont really realize the ramifications of what theyre doing.

But Frankenstein, thankfully, offers much more than a warning about robots.It is a rich and sober account of human error, a testament to lifes mystery, and a dramatic illustration of the redeeming roles of humility and affection.It encourages us to awaken to and love the small piece of reality we inhabit To see, as William Blake put it, a World in a Grain of Sand.As the AI revolutionary tide carries us along into what may be a transhuman future, it can continue to show us who we are, have been, and might be in an unfolding reality that always surprises and exceeds human designs.

Shelley wrote Frankenstein in response to a challenge issued by her friend the poet Lord Byron after a late-night discussion about the principle of life.The Scientific Revolution was well underway by then, and her group of friends had gathered around a fire one summer night by the shores of Lake Geneva, as rain pummeled the rooftops and lightning electrified the skies, to probe the mysterious nature of this thing they and we call life.What is its principle, they wondered?Can life be manufactured out of nothing, or even, say, out of a corpse?Could humans be lifes creators?

The men talked and Shelley, still a teenage girl, sat and quietly listened.She had an important perspective to contribute to the conversation, however, a knowledge about the origins of life that bore directly on their discussions.She had, after all, given birth to a child who had died a couple of weeks after birth, and, a year later, she had birthed a second child who survived.Her mother, the Enlightenment thinker Mary Wollstonecraft, had died of puerperal fever shortly after her own birth, and that death had long haunted her. The principle of life was for her more than an abstract philosophical topic. It had been intimately, powerfully, and tenuously experienced in her own physical body.To gestate a new life was empowering; to lose a child, or to struggle to sustain one, was humbling.

Unfortunately, the men did not enlist her opinion on such a weighty topic.She remained a mere fly on the wall during their discussions, but the wheels in her head were turning.In the days, weeks, and months that followed, she responded to Byrons prompt by writing her Gothic novel.Frankenstein would eclipse in popularity, enduring relevance, and prescience anything those men ever wrote.

Shelley was a believing Christian, and she begins the novel with an assertion which reads at first like a religious rejection of science: Supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavor to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.But she also understood that science is not the only ways humans have tried to play God.Childbirth is also a God-like activity, undertaken without God-like powers.Childbirth is divine, but it is also marred by human hubris and failure.

This was not an entirely novel interpretation; it was rooted, in fact, in Scripture. In Genesis, Eve had been enticed by the serpents tantalizing promise: When you eat of [the fruit] your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God,knowing good and evil.God in turn retaliated: In pain you shall bring forth children, he tells Eve.Childbirth is the cursed consequence of Eves quest for God-like knowledge, and it is only possible after the fall.Eves descendants learn to live with this curse, to even see in it a hopeful promise of fruitful multiplication.

This storys contradictions riddle her characterizations.Many interpreters have condemned Frankenstein as more villainous than his murderous monster, but Shelleys narrative resists such unilateral assignments of blame. If Frankenstein is a villain, then so is Eve, so is she, and so was her mother; they had all, despite their best intentions, failed the vulnerable lives they had made. In an 1831 introduction, Shelley called the novel itself her own hideous progeny. In writing it, she had also over-reached, had tried to create a universe out of her own small grain of sand. She confessed, however, an abiding affection for the book, and she bid it to go forth and prosper, just as God had done with his fallen creatures.

Her exploration of the ethics of Frankensteins scientific experiment is similarly complex and subtle.Her scientist, to begin with, is not exactly a scientist.Victor Frankenstein is an occultist who, in his teens, had stumbled upon the work of a German Renaissance soldier and polymath who was influenced by Kabbalah, Hermeticism, and Neo-Platonism.His father and a professor advise him that he is foolishly burdening his memory with exploded systems and useless names.But he ignores them, preferring the forgotten alchemists chimeras of boundless grandeur, their dreams of immortality and power, to the modern natural philosophers more limited ambitions.

The problem, he confesses, was that his reading of modern philosophers had left him feeling unsatisfied.In reading them, he felt like Isaac Newton who once avowed that he felt like a child picking up shells beside the great and unexplored ocean of truth. He wanted to wrap his arms around that whole, great ocean.Is that really such a bad thing? Havent we all felt that desire for wholeness? But his ambition pushed him further.A new species, he dreams as he labors in his workshop, would bless me as its creator.

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Its not this hubris alone that seals his fate, however.It is also his denial of human community.In committing himself to his ambitious goals, he isolates himself, losing physical touch with the people that had once populated his world.The happy man, he admits, is one who believes his native town is the world.But Frankenstein was intent on forsaking that native town for the world. That forsaking is echoed in his abandonment of his monster and in his negative response when his creature begs him to make him a female companion. Fearing that he will end up with two monsters and double the trouble, Frankenstein says no, again denying the claims of human affection.

He could, of course, have embraced his failure, accepting that he had lost control, and committing himself to make the most of it, to even love the monstrosity he had made.Mary Shelley seems to have done just that when she bid her hideous progeny to go forth and prosper. Frankenstein reminded her of the people she had loved and lived among reminded her too, perhaps, of how she had once herself been a child picking up shells beside the great and unexplored ocean of truth.

As the debates about generative AI roil our societies, we might remember what Shelley revealed: how the secrets of nature have always eluded our dominion and defied our best intentions.Everything, she wrote, must have a beginning The Hindus give the world an elephant to support it, but they make the elephant stand upon a tortoise.Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos.It is tortoises the strange and unruly secrets of life all the way down.

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Mary Shelley's Frankenstein can illuminate the debate over ... - Big Think