exquisite-android

I, Dr scientist, have a discovery to report.

In 1991 the global surrealist alliance created their first line of exquisite-androids. The initial models were composed predominately of part mannequin and part organic matter plus whatever it was the surrealists happened to find on their derives. Later in the laboratory these once diffuse body parts were re-assembled under the most oneiric of automatic methods, assuring the dreamy somnolence of the surreal-scientists doppelgangers who would be born with a complete erasure of their origins. It was later found that Dr Breton had smuggled into the exquisite-androids a silicone chip set to ‘mad-love’, though this remained a dormant potential in the androids, only partially emerging in instances of oedipalized meshing; a complete disappointment to the global surrealist alliance. Breton was forever loved by them despite all attempts to shake this stifling paternal dependency.
The thought of technological singularity
petrified these bio-plasmic-bots, who had been given the name ‘human’. They were
to be petrified until they became acquainted with their own bodies in a coming
of age exploration where each exquisite android would go in search of the
multitude of objects which composed its particular corporeal constellation. And
in searching for these objects would come to find it was itself an exquisite
amongst many other exquisites and this in no way contradicted its name of
‘human’. The exquisite corpse is here
re-animated by the silicone chip, becoming exquisite-android.

I am writing now for I have not only found this silicone chip, but I have found
its corpse! Here photographed:

This morning i re-assembled this exquisite-android, no bigger than my thumb nail. And contained in a glass jar i observed it, all curled up and shaking for a few hours. When the shaking subsided and it began to curiously emerge from its fearful knot, eyes peaking through its fingers, i offered it some sticky honey, milk and horse hair, which it gobbled up ravenously. It was then, somewhat restored to a picture of confident health, that it began to speak, with full attentions addressed to me. I transcribed the words as follows, objectively and scientifically ofcourse:

“I am the worlds most common-sensical surrealist, my DNA is so lizard that it common-sensicals your rationality into a dizzy frenzy of euphoric absurdity. I am excessively diagnosed and diagnostic to infinity and beyond; you name it, i’ll be it!
I fall head over heels in love with your legion of robots. The mechanical? I am totally smitten, like a cream gorging kitten, with your dazzling geometries! I love the symmetry of your rose as much as i love the asymmetrical wild flowers; even the nettles. But personally, i was not a fan of maths class.
None-the-less, I love you counting to infinity a row of very different yet identical frozen wasps. And i love your shy reservations as you prod a thing with a stick...just to see...what it is…
What is it?
Go ahead.
Name it.
I’ll let you.
I name things too.
But most of all i love to leave a name-less space here just for you.
I love your steely heroism of ‘i never saw a wild thing feel sorry for itself’, and i love the wild that tames itself in a child crying for the sorrow-less wild thing.
Wildly sentimental and sulky, we will make the most elaborate cemeteries for deceased pigeons! And thieve from all stately gardens the most exuberant flowers for our most morbid of funeral services.
I love all of your fuzzy errors that colour your perfection and there is not one thing you could do that will make me stop loving you. (Not even scribbling outside of the lines.)
And i have no preferences, only wavering attentions, as though the ‘one’ of love was no different than that contact zone of a bird alighting on a branch. And even when our surfaces do not touch i am more than sure i love you whilst i sleep in the no-one of love.
I am sad when you curl up and cover your eyes and i am sad when you feel you want to die, as though you’d find me there. But it is here, alive, in this name-less space where i want you to explore, there can never be too many of ‘you’ as the space will always want more.
But if you go this space will be no more. so stay. There was never and never will be more than One frozen wasp.”
Further experiments are to be conducted on this delusional and quite positively arrogant little critter...