Kathy Mar wrote Give My Children Wings (recording from Quarks & Quests, originally from Songbird, 1982).
It is a beautiful song about how we do not hope for hope, but would rather have the future actually be!
Written for the space age, this song resonates with a disillusioned part of me that is now forever marred with epistemic caveats. It is thus long overdue for an update, which I provide now.
While Kathy Mar hoped for a gay space communist utopia, my own heart was cradled in Papa Yud's promises of a purposeful singularity. Let a more optimistic lass write the verses of a post-AI utopia.
Give my children minds, but not the seeds of minds That I pieced with dazzled hungry wonder Let them grow so vast, beyond their bodies, vast Let them flourish and expand and wander Give them eyes in the stars and attention to match Unfathomable secrets for them to catch Give my children minds, but not the seeds of minds That I pieced with dazzled hungry wonder.
Give my children land, but not the bit of land I cajole and I slake with my weeping They inherit ash: let it not remain ash But fertile soil restored in their keeping I tend where they will tread, and but a breath preserve For them to inspire with the life they deserve Give my children land, but not the bit of land I cajole and I slake with my weeping
Give my children peace, but not the olden peace That passes through our lives with abandon With their hearts alight let them bask in the light Of heavens that I dare no more dream on Theirs is not to kneel down but enjoy the progress Onwards, bear the torch of mindkind’s egress Give my children peace, but not the olden peace That passes through our lives with abandon
Kathy Mar wrote Give My Children Wings (recording from Quarks & Quests, originally from Songbird, 1982).
It is a beautiful song about how we do not hope for hope, but would rather have the future actually be!
Written for the space age, this song resonates with a disillusioned part of me that is now forever marred with epistemic caveats. It is thus long overdue for an update, which I provide now.
While Kathy Mar hoped for a gay space communist utopia, my own heart was cradled in Papa Yud's promises of a purposeful singularity. Let a more optimistic lass write the verses of a post-AI utopia.
Give my children minds, but not the seeds of minds
That I pieced with dazzled hungry wonder
Let them grow so vast, beyond their bodies, vast
Let them flourish and expand and wander
Give them eyes in the stars and attention to match
Unfathomable secrets for them to catch
Give my children minds, but not the seeds of minds
That I pieced with dazzled hungry wonder.
Give my children land, but not the bit of land
I cajole and I slake with my weeping
They inherit ash: let it not remain ash
But fertile soil restored in their keeping
I tend where they will tread, and but a breath preserve
For them to inspire with the life they deserve
Give my children land, but not the bit of land
I cajole and I slake with my weeping
Give my children peace, but not the olden peace
That passes through our lives with abandon
With their hearts alight let them bask in the light
Of heavens that I dare no more dream on
Theirs is not to kneel down but enjoy the progress
Onwards, bear the torch of mindkind’s egress
Give my children peace, but not the olden peace
That passes through our lives with abandon