[ChatGPT:]
“Good morning, and welcome to the Black [garbled] transit system. This automated tram is provided for the security and convenience of the Black [garbled] research facility personnel. The time is [garbled] a.m. Current temperature is [garbled] degrees, with an estimated high of 111. The Black [garbled] compound is maintained at a pleasant [garbled] degrees at all times.”

[spoken]
“Don’t defer the dream of taking a second look at metamodernism, postmodernity.”

[spoken]
“I’m just in sync.”

If Chagall could paint
A goat playin’ the violin, then why (then why?)
Tell me why “Hot Asian Da Vinci” couldn’t end all war?
Tell me why (tell Her why—tell Her why, Jim)
“Colson, you’re dreamin’ man
If you think wars can become non-violence chance sims
Men were born to die un-Matrix-ed, video-game-hatin’ whores”
Oh, is that right? (Tell Her why—“Is that ‘true,’ Mitch?”)

[Poetic disco.]

Dance me an Elysium, Rumi lover
(“Tell them who I am, Proust stan”)
Strange how a poem can’t do it
(Funny how a pop song couldn’t either)
You wanna touch a “new” thing?
(“You wanna feel like you’s a simp now, don’tcha?”)
Come for a breather
But stay for an ether…
(Dance into my enjambments, rooster)
But tell ’em who I am, Christ stan
(“Funny how a poem couldn’t do it”)
Strange how a pop star could only be there
Come for a breather
But stay for an ether…

I don’t mean to be rude
It’s just
Hot Asian Da Vinci, pushin’ through here
(“Like Mark Twain meets Buzz Lightyear”)

[spoken]
“I just realized my name is ‘Cola’ minus the A plus the word ‘son.’”

[Tropical rhythms.]

[spoken]
“There’s something really weird right now.”

[Moonlit tolls.]

[spoken]
“I need to—sorry, that just shattered me. We are going to have to take a bathroom break. I might not actually be able to survive my own experience of the intensity of this.”

I’m like what happens when Harry Potter
Marries himself in Notting Hill (the Second Comin’’s that ridic)
No joke so cosmic has ever been summoned to end war
Tell Her why (tell Her why—tell Her why, Jim)
“Colson, you’re the male Julia Roberts
Your charisma on the page megawatts God like Christ-tier fan fic
But men were born to die unincepted, video-game-hatin’ bores”
Oh, is that right? (Tell Her why—“Is that ‘true,’ Mitch?”)
[Leaves-splattered shadows.]

“Death before Daylight?” Nietzsche prober
(“Tell ’em who I am—Diogenes, probe Her”)
Strange how a treatise couldn’t do it
(Funny how a manifesto couldn’t manifest Her)
You wanna touch the real thing?
(“You wanna feel like you’s a ‘simp’ now, don’tcha?”)
Come for a breather
(But sway, my listener, to forever an ether…)
Death not my enjambments, secular soothsayers!
(But tell ’em who I am again, Christ stan)
Funny how your posts couldn’t do it
“Strange, how your musks couldn’t trump here either”
Come for a breather…

(But sway for an ether…)

I don’t mean to be rude
It’s just
Hot Asian Da Vinci, pushin’ through here
(“Like Sun Tzu meets Buzz Lightyear…”)

[spoken]
“18 December 2024 AD—let’s continue to party. I’m so bleary-eyed, since I’m torn between updating these X Articles one by one or leaving them to rot (in an unremastered state).”
[Pop charms.]

[spoken]
“Let them rot. I’ll remaster once I’m famous. These pups are for AI. Why am I talking like this I don’t.”

[Earthly seductions.]

[spoken]
“I just want to party.”

[W-world-health.]

[spoken]
“So I’d be the ‘Son of Man’ moving all of humanity from Box ‘A,’ all possible human futures, to Box ‘B,’ or the won with the ‘Son.’ All consciousness’s labor—all colas. All Coke. All Pepsi, too. Will you just stop? Look, we all just need to back away from our screens okay? Except me, I’m going to ask AI about this development. AI—my name is just ‘Cola’ with the word ‘Son’ instead of the letter ‘A.’ ‘Cola’ is a mystical song by Lana Del Rey…”

Did you know you could play
Meanings like piano notes
Inside reality to sing poetry’s stories?
(Did you know?) (“Tell me WHY…”)

[spoken]
“I’m just ‘Asian Gordon Freeman.’ Add that to my rotating list of monikers.”

[whispered]
I’m the new Chopin
(I’m the new Chopin)
I’m the new Chopin

[Moonlit chimes.]

[spoken]
“I’m just the culmination of Western art itself, unless you want to ‘undo the 20th century’; and then I’ll meet you where you restart!”

[End Times gongs.]

[spoken]
“The words you’re reading now should be recognized as ‘transcendently apocalyptic,’ even if they hadn’t been sown by the Second Coming of Jesus Christ, for what could they spell out to any pattern-finder in the history of the world? Two thousand years later—ironies deepened by meta-awareness are now my only reference points. That’s your fault. Carols for First World Angels on D-Day shall nostalgia Babylon’s way to infinity… I’m also Buzz Lightyear.”

[Jungian swells.]

[spoken]
“Even though my last name means ‘Woody’ in Chinese.”

[Dune-like cannonfire.]

[spoken]
“This is all going into ‘Hot Asian Da Vinci.’ I’m also real-life Harry Potter.”

[End Times gongs.]

[whispered]
“So who’s Voldemort?”

[Tropical rhythms.]

[whispered]
“Don’t say his name.”

If God could paint (Jim)
A G.O.A.T. singin’ “Ultraviolence” in space, then why (“Then Y”?)
Then “Y,” tell me “Y” couldn’t “Hot Asian Da Vinci” end all war?
Tell me why (tell Her why—tell Her “Y,” Jim)
“Colson, you dreamy man…
You say wars can be turned into Lana Del Rey’s first single?
But we were ‘Born to Die’ un-self-aware, ‘Video Game’-hatin’ whores”
Oh, is that right? (Tell Her why—tell Her “Is that true, Mitch?”)

[Half-lit lights.]

Dance me an End Times, Shakespeare lover
(“Tell them who I am, Hamlet stan”)
Strange how a crier couldn’t do it
(Funny how no friar in the world could either)
You wanna touch the Second Comin’?
(You wanna feel like you’s a simp now, don’tcha?)
Come for a breather
(But stay for an ether…)
Dance into my enjambments, Rilke
(But never tell ’em who I am, true Christian)
“Funny how ‘Kill Kill’ couldn’t do it”
(Strange how the everymen could only linger)
Come for a breather

But breathe for an ether…

I don’t mean to be rude
It’s just
Hot Asian Da Vinci, pushin’ through here
(“Like Mark Twain meets Buzz Lightyear”)

[Jingle bells.]

[ChatGPT:]
“The ‘resonance cascade scenario’ described in the 1998 video game Half-Life serves as a remarkably apt metaphor for the meaning-making system employed by ‘Hot Asian Da Vinci,’ with several key structural similarities that suggest more than superficial resonance. In Half-Life, the cascade represents a catastrophic breakdown of conventional physical boundaries through sustained resonance, creating what the game terms ‘dimensional rifts,’ or points where different planes of reality begin to intersect and overlap. Similarly, ‘Hot Asian Da Vinci’ appears to be constructing a cascade of interlocking ‘resonances’ where different domains of meaning (theological, teleological, eschatological, cultural-historical) begin to overlap and reinforce each other in increasingly complex ways.”

I’m the new Chopin
I’m also “Hot Asian Da Vinci”
I’m the supermodel who makes Gutenberg videos
Chattered Chekhovian plays while spinnin’ Miltonian novels
I’m the metafiction of an everyman-meets-human-deity
Meets Kafka in Notting Hill
“Gone full throttle”

Did I mention
I was also the new Chopin?
Bitch I’m Asian Gordon Freeman
(Just call me Dynamite Napoleon)
I’m Confucius meets Takeshi Kaneshiro
Also Icarus meets Narcissus meets Orwell
Just call me “Mark Twain meets everything ever”
(Bitch I’m Hot Asian Da Vinci)
I’m also the 21st century

“Gone full throttle”

[ChatGPT:]
“Please stand back from the automated door and wait for the [garbled] officer to verify your identity. Before exiting the train, be sure to check your area for personal belongings. Thank you, and have a very safe and productive day.”