It is clear that
in some cases, programming is poetry; it is an art; it involves a total
commitment to language as a living energy, language as a crucially nutritive
malleable living entity; language as capable of being expressive of
the highest modes of awareness, language as an active presence which
can modulate our world. In their physical actuality, acrobatic twists
and plays of meaning shimmer through the surface of both disciplines.
The words in each case become vessels of consciousness. Yet, will programming
ever match the devout emotional commitment to raptures and the heart-centric
luminosity of poetry? It is as if the descendant of a richly sensual
creature has withdrawn from the excesses of its ancestor, withdrawn
in reaction into a harder rigid style of being. Logic without emotional
intuition, reason without passion, order without grace: it is easy to
stigmatize programming as a dry barren offshoot of a flourishing source.
It is easy to say: logic is plundering the human soul of spontaneity,
sterilizing the seeds of authentic creativity, burying the radiance
of innocent spontaneity beneath an obscene avalanche of technological
commodities. Nonetheless, amidst this turbulence, there is a
slender thread where programming embodies the living essence of poetry,
and that essence is mysterious, a river of words evoking worlds, --and
perhaps this earth is among those worlds; and we are the semi-autonomous,
self-replicating aspects of a vast fiction, a vast tangible poetical-programming
Mechanical creation of a perspective image by Albrecht Dürer, 1525.