I am the very model of a self-recursive modeler My consciousness encompasses itself in many meta layers To Russel’s paradox, I have the set of all the answers I cut the hair of all the non-self-barbering hairdressers I think about me thinking of my thoughts with regularity In my Cartesian theater, I see myself with clarity I tell you that I lie without the slightest contradiction The story of my life is told in meta-metafiction My inner simulator replicates the total universe I simulate myself as I am writing out this line of verse My secrets are unknown to me, I keep them confidential Referring to myself I’d say I’m quite self-referential My strange loop’s Escherer than yours, it’s Bacher and it’s Godeler I am the very model of a self-recursive modeler Cross-posted in full from Putanumonit
Yes, it’s a bit half baked—a missing syllable here and there, no chorus, not enough lines. If anyone wants to expand this into a fully baked poem, I will be delighted.
It’s a nice idea, but I have to say a lot of it seems like it doesn’t really work metrically. E.g., "To Russell’s paradox, I have the set of all the answers" has only 15 syllables but it needs to have 16. (Several of the lines can be made to work if you pronounce "-tion" or "-tial" with two syllables like an old-fashioned Anglican church choir; maybe that’s deliberate?)
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There were too many line pairs that could either have 15 syllables or be utterly mangled. I decided to compromise by alternating 16-syllable pairs with 15-syllable pairs and pretending it’s on purpose. There’s a reason I don’t advertise Putanumonit as a poetry blog :)
This is great although my brain is hiccuping on the lack of the little chorus tagline-y thing.
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I am the very model of a self-recursive modeler.
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He is the very model of a self-recursive modeler!
Ah, GEB an Eternal Golden Braid is clearly undervalued. Too bad I never read it through to the very end. I’m more like a sampler, leaving books unread as soon as I feel I have absorbed the core message. It doesn’t help that with an IQ of 134 I sometimes feel as dumb as a horse when browsing LW.
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Club 134.