Aleatory Salad – Full Album (1:40:41)

Google’s Deep Dive Podcast: The Chaos and Creativity of Aleatory Music

Exploring the Boundaries of Music, Meaning, and Madness in a Fully AI-Generated Soundscape

”If you want to get unusual results, work fast and work cheap, because there’s more of a chance that you’ll get somewhere that nobody else did.”
— Brian Eno

I am a fan of all music, especially the fringe stuff. Aleatory music is a style of composition in which some or all elements of the music are left to chance or performer interpretation. Earle Brown’s “Available Forms” involved musicians throwing the piece’s sheet music into the air and performing it in the resulting random order. I love that stuff.

For years I wanted to write a purely Aleatory “album” and now with the assistance of AI, I can, relatively easily, so I did. “Aleatory Salad” was allowed to write itself as follows:

Using Aleatory-friendly “Song Style” prompts on Suno.com, I let it ride.
Suno offers a decent lyrics option, so I used “Surreal, Dadaist, absurd wordplay – lyrics often abstract, non-linear storytelling” as the prompt and again, spun the wheel of chance.
Aligning content to any themes was out, so I took what the muse sent me, and sequenced the finished songs alphabetically. I normally wait until the end of an album for an extended mix but this one begged me to launch it right out of the gate, so be it.
I tasked ChatGPT to take the lyrics, in that order, and look for patterns to infer a narrative, et voila

Be sure to wash your random feast down with a nice glass of iced chance.

Suno.com Song Style Prompt: Atonal, dissonant, random, asymmetric phrasing, energetic, unstructured, experimental fusion of intricate, complex Prog, Art Rock, chaotic polyrhythms, surreal vocals.

Lyrics Prompt: Surreal, Dadaist, Absurd Wordplay – lyrics often abstract, non-linear storytelling

Aleatory Salad: Tracks/Lyrics/Story

Track images were generated by Suno.com with each song. I have no idea. Do you? Apropos.

Aleatory Salad

Aleatory Salad (Part 1)

[Verse 1]
Traffic cone symphony, whispering vowels
Echoes of jellyfish tangled in towels
Seventeen radios, all out of tune
Broadcasting secrets to helium balloons

[Chorus]
Slice it, dice it, mix it up wild
Spin the roulette of a vegetable pile
Toss it, sauce it, nothing too valid
Feast on the feast of Aleatory Salad

[Verse 2]
Windshield philosophy, thoughts on a plate
Moth in the typewriter spelling out fate
Memory jukebox with slots for regret
Coins made of gumdrops, jackpot reset

[Chorus]
Slice it, dice it, mix it up wild
Spin the roulette of a vegetable pile
Toss it, sauce it, nothing too valid
Feast on the feast of Aleatory Salad

[Bridge]
Tarantula moonwalk, humming a tune
Cantaloupe whispering wisdom at noon
Tinfoil top hats, levitating the sky
Asking the questions but never the why

[Verse 3]
Zebra-striped escalator, going both ways
Calendars melting in five-minute days
Synchronized hiccups, a beautiful curse
The universe humming in reverse

[Verse 4]
Unicycle octopus juggling light
Banana phone buzzing at quarter past night
The mannequin’s shadow keeps stealing my shoes
While hologram parrots debate over clues

[Verse 5]
Lobster in court with a monocle judge
Arguing whether existence is fudge
Meanwhile, a cactus is filing a claim
That gravity’s really just of the game

[Verse 6]
Aluminum seagulls are learning to waltz
A dictionary just started speaking in false
Someone’s been baking a time-travel pie
But all of the minutes just floated on by

[Verse 7]
Waffles in spacesuits, orbiting Mars
A poet just married a deck of old cards
The cosmos is laughing, the planets all spin
The door to forever just opened again

[Chorus]
Slice it, dice it, mix it up wild
Spin the roulette of a vegetable pile
Toss it, sauce it, nothing too valid
Feast on the feast of Aleatory Salad

[Outro]
Croutons of reason dissolve in the air
Lettuce and logic—an unlikely pair
Fork in the cosmos, stuck in the grid
One final bite… and away we skid

Aleatory Salad (Part 2)

[Verse 1]
Velcro tornado, stuck to the sun
A dolphin in corduroy learning to run
Blueprints for nowhere, sketched in the sand
Echoes of jellybeans taking a stand

[Chorus]
Toss it left, flip it twice
Nothing here is worth the price
Add some lightning, mix with malice
Welcome to my Aleatory Salad

[Verse 2]
A clock with a fever is melting the days
Horses are arguing over ballet
Satellite fishbowls are swimming through space
A mime with a trumpet just won the rat race

[Chorus]
Toss it left, flip it twice
Nothing here is worth the price
Add some lightning, mix with malice
Welcome to my Aleatory Salad

[Bridge]
Wait, did I leave my past on the train?
No, that was a dream inside of a stain
I wrote a letter to logic itself
It sent me a coupon for someone else

[Verse 3]
Upside-down parachutes drifting to Mars
A seesaw of penguins conducting the stars
Mirrors are filming their own documentary
Reality just got stuck in a tree

[Breakdown]
Spoons on the ceiling!
Cabbage uprising!
Disco mosquito just called me his cousin!
Everything’s normal!
Everything’s fine!
The universe hiccupped!
Ignore all the signs!

[Verse 4]
Underwater escalators going nowhere fast
Time is a smoothie with too much past
The clouds took a vote and decided to sink
While Monday and Tuesday eloped in the sink

[Final Chorus]
Toss it left, flip it twice
Nothing here is worth the price
Add some lightning, mix with malice
Welcome to my Aleatory Salad

[Outro]
A pickle just whispered the secret of life
But I blinked and forgot—well, maybe next time
The lettuce keeps spinning, the dressing runs wild
Tomorrow’s been canceled, so stay here a while

Aleatory Salad (Part 3)

[Verse 1]
Banjo alarms in a synchronized dance
A sidewalk confessing it once was in France
Eggshells are voting on what’s for dessert
The past is allergic to all that it’s learned

[Chorus]
Stir it once, drop it twice
Chaos served with extra spice
Nothing real, nothing valid
Dig into my Aleatory Salad

[Verse 2]
A bookshelf is arguing quantum debate
The moon called in sick for the job yesterday
Traffic is running on cinnamon steam
And birds built a fortress inside of a dream

[Chorus]
Stir it once, drop it twice
Chaos served with extra spice
Nothing real, nothing valid
Dig into my Aleatory Salad

[Bridge]
Hold up—
Did you hear that?
I think my shadow just texted back
It says the answer is probably blue
And the problem is me, and the problem is you

[Verse 3]
Upside-down chandeliers blinking in code
A clock just admitted it never has known
History hiccups and spills on the page
Meanwhile, my shoelaces question my age

[Breakdown]
Spinning umbrellas!
A carrot revolt!
Paradox melting like cinnamon salt!
The timeline is tangled!
The curtains look scared!
Reality’s knocking—but nobody’s there!

[Verse 4]
A fortune cookie just gave me a quest
“Find the last sentence that hasn’t been guessed”
A whisper keeps asking me what time it’s not
But my calendar’s stuck in an infinite thought

[Final Chorus]
Stir it once, drop it twice
Chaos served with extra spice
Nothing real, nothing valid
Dig into my Aleatory Salad

[Outro]
One last crouton of cosmic regret
Tasted like answers but not quite yet
The salad keeps spinning, the logic is gone
But the music keeps playing, so sing along

Aleatory Salad (Part 4)

[Verse 1]
Spoons in the attic are planning a heist
A lemon just told me the meaning of life
The ceiling is humming an old disco tune
And gravity’s feeling a little immune

[Chorus]
Toss it up, let it fly
Nothing’s real but let’s not ask why
Mix the dreams, taste the madness
Feast upon this Aleatory Salad

[Verse 2]
A cactus just won a debate with a shoe
The wallpaper’s peeling itself for the view
A ghost in my toaster is making demands
Something about taxes and hologram hands

[Chorus]
Toss it up, let it fly
Nothing’s real but let’s not ask why
Mix the dreams, taste the madness
Feast upon this Aleatory Salad

[Bridge]
Wait—
Did I just forget what I almost knew?
A parrot just whispered, “The answer is blue”
The clock skipped a second, then made it a year
And somewhere a future just disappeared

[Verse 3]
A mirror is singing its own lullaby
While clouds play poker and cheat on the sky
The highway’s reciting a poem it forgot
And logic just knocked, but I bolted the lock

[Breakdown]
Lost in the fridge!
Reality glitch!
Velcro is stuck in an existential pitch!
Milk’s making deals!
My shadow’s on strike!
A sentence just tripped on the tip of my mic!

[Verse 4]
A question mark winked as it floated away
The coffee cup called in a favor today
A thought I abandoned just came back for rent
And nonsense is all that I have left to spend

[Final Chorus]
Toss it up, let it fly
Nothing’s real but let’s not ask why
Mix the dreams, taste the madness
Feast upon this Aleatory Salad

[Outro]
And if this was a lesson, I missed the whole class
I tripped on the future and fell through the past
But the dressing is perfect, the chaos is rad
So let’s raise a fork to the Aleatory Salad

Aleatory Salad (Part 5) Dessert Salad

[Verse 1]
Mangoes are gossiping under the moon
The strawberries waltz with a sneaky raccoon
A pineapple’s screaming, “I CAN’T BE CONTAINED!”
And cherries are playing a dangerous game

[Chorus]
Slice it up, swirl it ’round
Drizzle dreams and melt the ground
Chaos sweet and strangely valid
Welcome to this Desert Salad

[Verse 2]
The grapes are protesting their lack of a spine
A melon just told me, “The future is brine”
Bananas are peeling themselves out of fear
And oranges whisper, “The end is near”

[Chorus]
Slice it up, swirl it ’round
Drizzle dreams and melt the ground
Chaos sweet and strangely valid
Welcome to this Desert Salad

[Bridge]
Wait—
Did my spoon just blink at me?
A fig rolled away and it stole my ID
The kiwi’s composing a symphony’s end
And the clock just confessed it’s not real—just pretend

[Verse 3]
A coconut told me to sell all my socks
While peaches play chess with a skeptical fox
A lemon is writing conspiracy notes
And blueberries argue about different boats

[Breakdown]
Cake fork uprising!
Syrup’s alive!
The cherries are laughing but none have survived!
Pastries are melting!
The spoon wants a raise!
A waffle just told me it’s trapped in a maze!

[Verse 4]
A dragonfruit’s planning a great coup d’état
While raspberries dream of a world without law
The pears are debating the meaning of fate
And pudding declared, “It’s already too late”

[Final Chorus]
Slice it up, swirl it ’round
Drizzle dreams and melt the ground
Chaos sweet and strangely valid
Welcome to this Desert Salad

[Outro]
The table is spinning, the feast is a blur
The jelly has something important to share
But I can’t understand, my spoon’s upside down
So I let the madness just melt in my mouth

The Back Of Your Mouth

[Verse 1]

We’ve been down the side road

You know it’s alright

I’d rather make you happy

Than give you a house

Tidal wave streetlamp

Neon everything

Mix it all up right now

It’s in the back of your mouth

[Chorus]

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

[Verse 2]

Happily taken

Eight love letters on the bottom shelf

Sunday morning workin’ up a sweat

Smokin’

No money

Laughin’ ’bout yesterday

Tell me what’s poppin’

How good can it get?

[Chorus]

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

[Verse 3]

We gave up the high life

To dance in the moonlight

And drink from the fountain

‘Til it all dried out

And the water stopped flowing

What the hell do you know?

The supply chain sellers

In this of town

[Chorus]

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

[Verse 4]

Music with no words

Phone on the main page

Horse at the checkout

Took him for a ride

I want a hot dog

With nothin’ on it

Buns in the oven

Misfits on the side

[Chorus]

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

I hear it too loud

It’s in the back of your mouth

Universal PTA

[Verse 1]

Someone gave you the creeps

In the Mafalda universe of white xenon lights

Now you find solace in scouting scouts

Of lost in space and CyberSeven

[Pre-Chorus]

That’s fine

And I have thirteen strange doubts

And I can’t contain ’em

Great

[Chorus]

[?]

Were there snakes?

Can he dance?

What’s ‘Xanadu’?

Did you meet Alex?

Does he date?

Who’s BenJon?

Oh my days!

[Verse 2]

Playin’ Patapon-I and II

PSP through Google HD

I pawned my Bucky O’Hare

I read it on Hopscotch Diary

[Verse 3]

In the corn of a Mují booth

There were mosquitos buzzing around

Flapping like Icarus wings

Creating loopholes for most unlikely objects

[Verse 4]

Or someone who will take her as he wants her

Now fulfill your mortgage

You want a cafe log booklet?

A soldier dies

They die on New Lance

Sweet and Sour Grapes

Here’s another one of those songs you’re gonna hate

It’s the best kind of dish that your philosophy makes

And I don’t like grapes anyway

You wouldn’t want none of this rugged tape

If you saw me doing demolition with it

With the care you took

And the facilitation

By destiny’s trusty hands

[Chorus]

But I don’t like grapes anyway

[Verse]

Other gals’ll be talkin’ ’bout

The righteous path of true

Unselfish love

And intentionally trying to stop just ’cause it’s hard to do

On my self-talk see-saws

[Chorus]

But I don’t like grapes anyway

[Verse]

I’m a realist at the end of the day

Not like your romantic ways

It’s not in my nature

But I wished I was dealt those cards at the start ’cause

In the end

They looked pretty creative

[Chorus]

But I don’t like grapes anyway

[Verse]

I didn’t see till late in the game

I was hustling for the spell

You took me under your faith

It was a gift from the nightmares

Grasshoppers At Sushi’

[Verse 1]

Running wild like a cow on defeat soon

Funny

See my honey wanna boom time

Do shoes on new wood need good or bad soap

No pop on in downtown areas cope

[Verse 2]

Killer Mike feels resigned I’m about to go off

Petty they run Edward Scissorhands

Panic at the dentist don’t band teeth

Past I had mine like a sophomore

[Pre-Chorus]

Swore no more swaying my perch

Man Loma native remove new New York

Another sketch for the autumn

Vision cold Ieve learned more measure for measure

[Chorus]

Subtle interplay oh limited Peter Piper

Picture-perfect life one by one

Feathers with the underbelly windswept

Any weapon shield made easy to differentiate (Ahh)

Do don’t disregard the sun spot

Rotate the decoupage multiplied by zero

Horizon cracked the warriors in pieces

The beats came before auto with wide-paced rhythm

[Refrain]

Same old refrain

That’s the shade

Slicker than rain

Fallen down the drain

Same as when we came

Slapback delay

Deceptive close

Sweet rosin fade

[Verse]

Horse stick girl said

I’m five two tall

The construct was false but they had the balls

Whoever put me up to it instead of upstairs

Could have seen a frog swamp expect the curveball

Conifer’s no more than three sip soup benders

Kung fu threw a wallflower

Analog didn’t follow through with anything but size

These are marble peeps but less strong

Beautiful Nonsense

[Verse]

I’m so humid yet so blue

It’s the color reading just for you

I’m not dead yet so I thank

I have hyperfinite memory banks

[Pre-Chorus]

Why are you looking so uncomfortable

Like I’m not someone that you know

Let’s keep working hard

Full of try

Just like wipers

Threw the dirt from their eyes

[Chorus]

It’s beautiful

Beautiful

It’s beautiful nonsense

It’s beautiful

Beautiful

[Verse 2]

I’m mortifying to the seat

Seems the big pictures are getting smaller than me

I heard a hundred megatons of electricity

Explode the chandelier riser into ecstasy

[Pre-Chorus]

And you can feel it way down in your bones

The chick caught a eggplant and had to find herself a plate of something to eat

There’s a beggar staying over to ride the air with the sunbathers

While the sun cracks the egg with his flunky

[Chorus]

It’s beautiful

Beautiful

It’s enough to want ya

The beautiful

Beautiful

It’s beautiful nonsense

Dancefloor of an Endless Time

[Verse 1]

Antelope sailboats

Turn into farnacles in the

Multiplex of our

Unseen visceral complex

[Verse 2]

Waveforms Dektrym

Sundial emotivium chimes

In the influence

Upon the dancefloor of an endless time

[Chorus]

I bet you heard it from a Kalimbo

Born in a dead kaleidoscope

Discofox rapport

[Verse 3]

What’s next?

Monotone bricks

Frozen in reserves of

Forced mirth in a forgotten tomb

[Verse 4]

Frenzy flahs

Vitriol hailed from the halls

In the expanse of the

Fear-based pull sensations I can’t avoid

[Bridge]

As she tells me to come along

Back into her arms

And of the chaos of her song

Blorp #7

[Verse]

Usually when people tell me to start

I ask questions like these in response

[Chorus]

Am I a man or a djinn

Am I near or far or in

One of everyone’s thoughts or everyone of my thoughts

Please someone rewind

[Verse 2]

Think of it like a chain of crisp invention

And nod toward the Consequence Shop

Quite a store

[Chorus]

While still within the start

Please someone just reverse

Am I friend or foe

Adieu or hello

There must be more to memory than memory alone

Red scissors or white feathers

Is a game for everyone

Remembering my thoughts earlier this year

[Verse 3]

Why did yellow enter popular consciousness

Can Quizno’s placards communicate with power

[Chorus]

Usually when people tell me to start

I ask questions like these in response

Am I blue or black

Small grains or back

Bada Bing Bada Boom

[Verse 1]

An ostrich

A luxury sales broker

And little man go into a bar

They order drinks

And she realized too late she locked herself in the car

A pirate’s husband who once dug up a foxhole sailor’s buried treasure

Had to wash his great-grandfather’s feet on an international flight from Slovakia

Bada bing bada-boom

[Verse 2]

A mother with a gerbil at a country club sips a scotch

Neat

Her daughter’s newly achieved flora autobahn’s four-seater toy facelift Model T

Who’s behind door number three

Say

When you stare off into the middle distance

This is what happens when cars from the future play messy rooms in darkrooms

Bada bing bada-boom

[Chorus]

Does it have insurance?

A recent study found it on a gluten-free rotary phone landline

Some serial adventures

The Blues Brothers meet the chains

Can’t take

My eyes off you

I can say anything because nobody’s listening

[Verse 3]

You can tell most by the introduction

The edge except that the edges found themselves

Imperfections are perfect and they take a thousand things

You remember ’57 until the smoke runs out

Bada bing bada-boom

[Verse 4]

I think I read this in Howard Zinn

You have to write about it

Talk about it ban it burn it

It’s optional until it’s not

Carry on it’s all downhill

The hidden treasure scenery of future cancelled plans

I miss it like pennies on the dollar at any cost – keep following your heart

Bada bing bada-boom

[Bridge]

Her favorite type of boat

Toned articles aside

Even if it means losing was the only option

You can’t drink from the dead

It’s a dolphin’s favorite scent in the first or second person

Now fade in green and blue and bang goes blossom boom

Bada bing bada-boom

I Was Feeling Logical

[Verse 1]

Duckin’ and stealin’

Pants on parade

She takes her mask off

I know that face

An officer catches

Whoa

Woe is me

I kinda love him

Accidentally

[Verse 2]

Hup

Two

Three

Four

Let’s go for a drive

With that queen in my car

She’s a lively time

One day to go

‘Til we reach paradise

The pearly doors are wide open

With a grift and a lie

[Verse 3]

This needs some noodles

Call the president

I want a fancy plane and breakfast in bed

Gimme sugar

Gimme dark

Slice my cloud

Sprinkle the crust

Wandering gourmets

Bohemian rat

[Chorus]

[?]

What do you mean? (Hey)

[Verse 4]

Speed up the taxi

Cancel the holiday

We can’t escape the police

They’re kinda everywhere today

Six slow days and seven lonely nights

Turns out our paradise was places under arrest

[Bridge]

[?]

Break it

Truth is scary

Pêche au Gros

[Verse 1]

On sortira l’échelle

On volera du miel

On deviendra des abeilles

On les piquera

[Chorus]

On va repriser

Coudre

Passer des heures à nos livres de prières

On rentrera sans ouvrir les côtes

Si précieux

Sans retour en arrière

[Verse 2]

Tu pars pour une pêche au gros

Une cueillette de champignons

Tu veux que rien ne reste

[Chorus]

Soulever les jupes

Manipuler les gens sans scrupule

Prendre le monde entier comme ton

Comme ton bac à sable

[Bridge]

J’ai délibérément enrayé

Tes tentatives

Un chaud-froid

Une tempête d’été

Tu vis avec mille misérables sous ta ceinture

Et moi

Je distille la brume pour le ruisseau

Pour l’eau pure

[Verse 3]

J’ai un chat à elle

Elle a rendez-vous à verse

Elle a si belle adresse

Tord droit

Elle intervient pour te sauver

Elle est devenue célèbre

Puits de science

Murmure et d’ailleurs

Muet au mois de janvier

Anglish, as if it matters:

Big game fishing

[Verse 1]

We’ll take out the ladder

We will steal honey

We will become bees

We will prick them

[Chorus]

We are going to darn

Sew

Spend hours in our prayer books

We will return without opening the ribs

So precious

Without going back

[Verse 2]

You are going for big game fishing

READ: Mauritius: A Harmonious Haven for TATANKA’s Vision

A mushroom picker

You don’t want anything left

[Chorus]

Lift the skirts

Manipulate people without scruple

Take the whole world as your

Like your sandbox

[Bridge]

I deliberately stopped

Your attempts

A hot-cold

A summer storm

You live with a thousand wretches under your belt

And me

I distill the mist for the stream

For pure water

[Verse 3]

I have a cat of hers

She has a date to pay

She has such a beautiful address

Straight twist

She intervenes to save you

She became famous

Well of science

Murmur and elsewhere

Silent in January

Atomic Clock

[Verse 1]

Shifting sky

Everything will float

Nothing will

Atomic clock

Counts beyond infinity as it

[Chorus]

Falls

The numbers cannot tally visions of

Stars

Exploding beyond us

[Verse 2]

Forget what you know

Keep a hold of

Each breath before it

Swirls into the heavy sky and it

[Chorus]

Falls

As we try to understand who we are

Stall

Exploding beyond us

[Bridge]

Vaporize

Atoms fade

That which doesn’t matter floats away

[Verse 3]

Forget what you know

Keep a hold of

Each breath before it

Swirls into the heavy sky

Swirls into a heavy

Half Of Us Have a Story

[Intro]

Half of us have a story

Story

Story (Yo, Breakmaster Cylinder, break, yo)

[Verse 1]

Talky walky

Doorfy sweety

If this still seems too weird to you

Then you shouldn’t

What you want to learn? (No)

Reverse of oblivion

Your instinct leads you to a dark path now

[Verse 2]

If you heard an old bells ringnet

And the sound of my words adorn your ears

And your shadow stretches on the edge of the earth with your squinting eyes

The clay under your feet

The flow of time blurs in our skin

The names are too much

Some of they are false

Make you even smile

[Verse 3]

You ask what is beyond this sky?

Below this earth squash (Don’t worry)

What is more beyond if we were to stay here?

What was before and what will be after?

What is the number of uncountable sand?

What is that worm squirm in dirt?

How thing go on after my own soul leave?

[Verse 4]

And some things are left

Tied

Halves should be hold on tight

If so

Send it

And you now keeping on seeing

There is a bird resting on thus head

And the skies have folded below this feet

In the end

The birds are chasing the eagle

And this world is more absorbed than we were believed

He already tried many

And failed what them mean

It make them even happy or even suffer

[Verse 5]

But still raining in July

When this veil is lifted; journey to fourth level

You’ll see the sunrise everywhere and eternal

From inside overlake

In the future they tried measure these space

These itch

Which is something kind of primordial; habit solve answer

The absolute shrink your perspective; it can seem little

[Instrumental]

Breakmaster

[Verse 6]

Half of us have a story

We can’t say anything about the others

I don’t know

The wind on my skin

When you follow it

Be ready for a story

Before we notice

My instinct was to come here (I was there)

If so

Send it

And you now keeping on hearing

Maybe something of that story is worm in you already

The fourth level

Others’ don’t interest me

Infinite Marmalade

[Verse]

Infinite marmalade to look forward to

Cousins with bangs lose their fright

Lately stopped paying attention and ransom

And sold all that less chorus

[Verse]

Let us . . take us . . some all-purpose rain

Build towers round upward galloping beauty

Jesus and Magdalene reach harmony chorus

In Meaning Confederate powdermouth

[Verse]

Must pulls his luminosity into an orbit

Reflects our foremen Cohen enemy’s guess chorus

And is that a mane back there

Or is the moon just full chorus

[Bridge]

In Astrail Dox of the Konodo Crew

Are coming to rehearsal implants Central White Choir

Oh beeping Green Host

Stop His Holiness analogue to tram lines downback

[Verse]

So starts the escapade

Of what’s happening over a chorus

Culprits and myth burst from rest icicles

And bust Parabellum breakfast must bastard

[Outro]

Someone scrape that Richmond Lanes

Kicking the canalways chorus

Briefer is even briefer still

Cheer up parade rest 코

Is energetic summer full of dick chorus

The Squizzle’s Courtship with Wobblepot

[Verse]

Acoustic psych Clown Prince

Of enigmatic blues

He also goes by Squizzle

His telegrams in riddles

Read twenty-three Skidoo

[Verse 2]

The phoniest woes

Of what and wherefor

Sprung from dreams of desisepia

Mummerset

Marvellous lush

Of the whatcorrupted I Am Assorted Friends

Hitting jacks that jimble edison

Mawlish bollers in kutter

Aunt Serena absquatulated

Her whapoose

Enmangled with winter

Salamanders Harvard

Baited by the pawnsters whom she ambushed

[Verse 3]

Sir George the Magnificent

Rose from his bed a gentleman

[Verse 4]

Righto! ‘Tis natterly norunk

You’re bungled you wallypiss

Decks all red James

Chimping up the chuff

A dippery spadger with falabash codger

Tinkering gimlets

Conpruspulating ashtick of trickles

Ashtick a trickle of dobblings

[Chorus]

Snazzup jackplant undry and dain

Rorschach smiling scattered sherandy

Through sugar’d pipe

And downward arterial stock firmity fuzz

Firmity fuzz

[Verse 5]

Dacker milan

You postie

Trunchling

Doink

And so forth

Etcetera

Sports cars disco

Anti-Folk Banger

[Verse]

Such an indie pop banger

To start the show

People gather round

Like a pod of dolphins

[Chorus]

It’s a anti-folk banger

I just wanted you to

Build it up

The sound of it

Is diminished yet still garners

Another round of it

The banger

[Verse 2]

Did you really think

That I’d make it so easy?

This is not a laughing matter

So take it slowly

[Chorus]

It’s a anti-folk banger

I just wanted you to

Build it up

The sound of it

Is diminished yet still garners

And then I’m out of here

The banger

[Bridge]

Out with the story

Out with the book

Here is the story

Here is the book

Here is the banger

[Chorus]

It’s a anti-folk banger

I just wanted you to

Build it up

The sound of it

Is diminished yet still garners

Another round of it

A banger

Little Quasar

[Verse]

String bikinis at the clambake

They’re like Tupperware

Dry and airtight

Skim the pool water like snakes do a chromatography

Hidden in the trees with Elvis eating perogies

[Bridge]

And we’re all just amazing

You and I

We’re all just outstanding

Intergalactic mass of plasma

[Refrain]

And that’s my little quasar

[Verse 2]

Extra-dark coffee and UPS outfits

Flying through the air like a frisbee with a beaver tail

Flip the euphonia like clams riding algae

Hidden in the trees with Michael schlond poofa

[Bridge]

‘Cause we’re all just amazing

You and I

And we’re all outstanding

[Refrain]

Intergalactic mass of plasma

Purple Watermelon and My Best Friend, Uncle Albert

[Verse]

Red goes green when I turn on the Christmas tree

Sometimes I wear two pairs of electric ski boots

Oxygen needs carbon

Or it’s not worth breathing

While I’m on my way back to the submarine

[Verse 2]

The sun

That’s not a star

It’s a dog with a flashlight running away from a burning Frisbee (Frisbeeeee)

I’ve traveled out north with my blacklight mirror

And was sucked to the flameworld

There to discover doctor Mr. Firefly

That purple watermelon and my best friend

Uncle Albert

[Chorus]

Dr. Mr. Firefly (no less than a good guy)

Dr. Mr. Firefly (Dr. Mr. Firefly said to me)

Dr. Mr. Firefly (told me, “they will roast you”)

Dr. Mr. Firefly (Dr. Mr. Firefly said to me)

(End of album)

Aleatory Salad, the Story

Below is surreal adventure featuring a protagonist who navigates through a strange, unpredictable world where the laws of physics and logic are completely broken. The protagonist—perhaps an unwitting traveler—will be drawn into a cosmic mystery, gradually uncovering meaning from apparent nonsense.

Emergent Themes & Patterns

Surrealism & Absurdity – The lyrics are filled with bizarre imagery (e.g., “Zebra-striped escalator,” “A pickle just whispered the secret of life”).
Cosmic & Existential Musings – Many references to time, space, and reality bending (e.g., “Atomic Clock,” “Infinite Marmalade”).
Anthropomorphized Objects & Creatures – Inanimate things have thoughts, actions, and personalities (e.g., “A coconut told me to sell all my socks”).
Food & Consumption Metaphors – Recurring mentions of meals, salads, desserts, and eating (e.g., “Aleatory Salad,” “Desert Salad”).
Chaos vs. Hidden Order – The randomness suggests an underlying logic waiting to be uncovered.
A Possible Journey or Transformation – Some songs hint at motion, evolution, or change (e.g., “Dancefloor of an Endless Time,” “Half of Us Have a Story”).

Tasked with finding a semblance of a narrative within the “random” and disparate songs above, the AI impressively wove a tale. It might make sense, or none at all, but is there really a difference?

Story Structure & Chapter Titles

Act 1: The Tossing of the Salad (Initiation into Chaos)

Aleatory Salad – The protagonist, Jasper, an ordinary man with an overactive imagination, is pulled into an inexplicable reality where objects talk, time stutters, and meaning is elusive. A mysterious guide appears.
Aleatory Salad (Part 2) – Jasper tries to make sense of his surroundings, encountering bizarre, sentient food and cryptic signs. A fortune cookie hints at a “hidden path.”
Aleatory Salad (Part 3) – Jasper discovers the “Laws of Absurdity,” realizing that logic is useless here. He’s given a quest but isn’t told what it is.
Aleatory Salad (Part 4) – A parade of nonsensical figures (lemons debating, cacti winning arguments) push Jasper toward a doorway in the sky.
Aleatory Salad (Part 5: Desert Salad) – Jasper crosses into a different “course” of reality, where a fruit rebellion is underway. He learns of the Blorp—a being trapped between dimensions.

Act 2: The Cosmic Cacophony (A Fractured Journey)

The Back Of Your Mouth – Jasper finds himself in a world built from sound and language, where words shape reality. He meets a chorus of floating mouths who warn him of an impending paradox.
Universal PTA – He stumbles into a bureaucratic dimension where he’s forced to fill out forms for his own existence. The officials are bees.
Sweet and Sour Grapes – Jasper is tested by a riddling grape who claims to know the truth about the universe. He fails the test.
Grasshoppers at Sushi – He meets a group of philosophical insects debating the meaning of food and consumption. One of them whispers a secret to him.
Beautiful Nonsense – A reflection moment: Jasper realizes he is embracing the chaos rather than resisting it.

Act 3: The Dance of Destiny (Unraveling the Paradox)

Dancefloor of an Endless Time – Jasper enters a place where time loops in on itself and must dance his way through existence.
Blorp #7 – The fabled Blorp is revealed—a shape-shifting enigma that exists in all timelines at once.
Bada Bing Bada Boom – Jasper learns to manipulate reality with his words, but each change comes at an unexpected cost.
I Was Feeling Logical – In a moment of desperation, Jasper tries to force order onto the world, but it backfires.
Pêche au gros – He is taken to the edge of known absurdity, where an entity offers him a final choice.

Act 4: The Great Marmalade Awakening (The Truth is Revealed)

Atomic Clock – Time itself collapses; Jasper sees every possible Part of himself.
Half Of Us Have a Story – He understands that reality is a narrative, and that his choices determine the story’s meaning.
Infinite Marmalade – Jasper makes the leap into the final realm, where everything and nothing exist at once.
The Squizzle’s Courtship with Wobblepot – The story’s climax: Jasper transcends nonsense and finds an answer hidden in absurdity.

Chapter 1: Aleatory Salad

Jasper knew something was wrong the moment his breakfast began whispering secrets to him. The toast muttered cryptic phrases about helium balloons, and his coffee, swirling in impossible patterns, hummed an ancient tune only half-remembered. He blinked, certain that sleep still clung to his mind, but the world around him refused to settle into its usual mundane order.

A sudden gust of wind—impossible, given that he was inside—scattered his cereal across the room. Each piece landed upright, spelling words he dared not read. The walls breathed in and out as if the entire kitchen were alive. He staggered to his feet, the floor beneath him undulating like the surface of an ocean. The door to his ament melted into a zebra-striped escalator, going both ways at once.

Somewhere in the distance, a chorus of voices sang:
Slice it, dice it, mix it up wild
Spin the roulette of a vegetable pile
Toss it, sauce it, nothing too valid
Feast on the feast of Aleatory Salad!

Jasper turned, and before him stood a figure dressed in a tinfoil top hat, levitating slightly above the ground. Their face flickered between forms—a librarian he once knew, a carnival barker, a moth made of stardust. The figure tipped its hat and gestured toward the swirling mass of colors where his kitchen used to be.

“Welcome, traveler,” the entity said, its voice layered with echoes. “You have been chosen to ake in the Great Tossing.”

Jasper opened his mouth to respond, but only a small brass bell fell out, clattering to the floor. The figure nodded solemnly. “Ah, you are already beginning to transform. You will need guidance.” It reached into the air and pulled out a neon-blue crouton, handing it to Jasper. “Take this. The first course has begun.”

His hands trembling, Jasper accepted the crouton. As soon as it touched his palm, the room exploded into a kaleidoscope of shifting patterns, and he fell—headfirst—into the grand, inescapable chaos of Aleatory Salad.

Chapter 2: The Back of Your Mouth

Jasper landed with a thud on what felt like a vast, invisible cushion. The air around him buzzed with an electric hum, a vibration so deep it rattled his teeth. As he struggled to stand, he noticed something peculiar—he was surrounded by floating, disembodied mouths. Each one whispered a different phrase, a different story, a different secret.

“The key is in the syllables,” one muttered.
“Speak too soon, and the echoes will trap you.” another cautioned.
“The last word always bites back.” warned a third.

Jasper turned in a slow circle, feeling the weight of their words pressing in. He reached out instinctively, trying to silence them, but the moment his fingers brushed against one, a sharp pain shot through his skull. The mouth he touched let out a sharp, garbled scream and dissolved into mist.

A new voice spoke—this one clear and deliberate. “You’re not supposed to touch them.” Jasper spun around to see a woman standing behind him, her eyes deep pools of shifting light. “They’re not yours to silence. They exist because they must.”

“Who are you?” Jasper asked, his voice thick with confusion.

“A guide. A friend. Call me Echo,” she said. “You’ve entered the Realm of Residual Speech. Every word ever spoken leaves a trace, and here, they linger. You must listen carefully, for one of them holds your next clue.”

Jasper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The voices around him grew louder, swirling into a storm of incomprehensible chatter. And then, from the cacophony, one phrase stood out—clear, precise, undeniable:

“Find the syllable that never ends.”

Chapter 3: Universal PTA

The moment Jasper repeated the phrase aloud, the air thickened, shifting into a gelatinous fog. Before he could react, the ground beneath him vanished, and he plummeted—except this time, he didn’t land with a thud. Instead, he was seated at a desk in what appeared to be a sprawling, interdimensional classroom.

Rows of desks stretched infinitely in all directions, occupied by creatures both familiar and unrecognizable. To his left, a sentient typewriter clicked and clacked its own attendance. To his right, a floating jellyfish wearing thick-rimmed glasses flipped through a textbook titled Temporal Bureaucracy for Beginners.

A sharp voice rang through the room. “Settle down, students! The Universal PTA meeting is now in session!”

At the front of the class stood a towering figure draped in robes of shifting inkblots. It had no discernible face, only a constantly rewriting name tag that read, Mrs. ???.

“Jasper,” she announced, tapping a ruler against the desk. “You are late. Fill out Form 83-Q if you wish to be excused.”

Jasper’s hands shook as a form materialized before him. He skimmed it quickly. The questions made no sense:

What is the circumference of yesterday?
How many echoes fit inside an unsaid thought?
Did you obtain permission from the council of forgotten whispers to be here?

Jasper hesitated. He had no idea how to answer any of this.

Mrs. ??? loomed closer. “You have until the next bell. If you fail to comply, you will be processed accordingly.”

Jasper gulped. Whatever processed meant, he had a feeling it wasn’t good.

Chapter 4: Sweet and Sour Grapes

Jasper grabbed a pen and hesitantly scribbled nonsense onto the form, hoping for the best. The moment he dotted the last letter, the paper dissolved into a fine mist. A loud ding! rang out, and the room trembled.

Mrs. ??? sighed. “Very well. You may proceed.”

Before Jasper could ask what that meant, his chair lurched backward and flung him into a vast orchard. The air smelled of overripe fruit and something oddly metallic. The trees here bore grapes the size of melons, some shimmering gold, others a deep violet. A signpost nearby read: Choose wisely. Sweet or sour?

A figure stepped from behind a vine-covered trellis—a man in a suit made entirely of grape leaves. “Ah, another visitor!” he beamed. “Welcome to the Orchard of Consequences. Pick a grape, any grape. But be warned: one will tell you the truth you seek, the other will leave you lost forever.”

Jasper hesitated, staring at the glistening fruit. “And if I choose neither?”

The man smiled wider, his teeth stained purple. “Then you stay here. Forever.”

Jasper gulped and reached out his hand.

Chapter 6: Beautiful Nonsense

Jasper’s vision blurred as he chewed the grape. The taste was indescribable—both sweet and bitter, like a memory slipping away. His surroundings shifted into a swirling canvas of colors, melting into shapes that refused to settle. He felt himself floating through a vast expanse where gravity was optional.

Figures emerged from the mist—smiling street lamps, books reciting poetry to one another, raindrops that chimed like tiny bells as they landed. A voice whispered in his ear, “Embrace the nonsense, and you will find clarity.”

Jasper took a deep breath and stepped forward into the unknown. The ground, if it could be called that, was made of words. Letters formed, unformed, and rearranged beneath his feet, constructing sentences that made sense for a fleeting moment before dissolving into gibberish. Every step he took altered the world around him, rewriting reality with each footfall.

A flock of flying fish passed overhead, each wearing a monocle and humming an unfamiliar tune. One dipped low and spoke in a refined accent. “You are in the Realm of Beautiful Nonsense, where meaning is only borrowed and never owned. Careful with your thoughts—here, even an idle musing can reshape the landscape.”

Jasper nodded, taking in his surroundings. A nearby tree sprouted teacups instead of leaves, each filled with liquid stardust. A cat wearing a bowler hat waved at him from atop a floating piano. The moment Jasper thought about how peculiar it all was, the cat turned into a symphony, its form dissolving into musical notes that scattered into the air.

“How do I leave this place?” Jasper asked, realizing that if thoughts dictated reality, he might be stuck forever.

The fish circled him. “You must think of a door, but beware—once created, it may lead anywhere. Are you ready to step through what you cannot predict?”

Jasper hesitated, then focused. Before him, the swirling words and colors coalesced into the shape of a grand doorway, its frame shifting between marble and mist. He reached for the handle, took a deep breath, and stepped through.

Chapter 7: Dancefloor of an Endless Time

Jasper’s feet landed on solid ground—if it could be called that. The floor beneath him shimmered, a luminous checkerboard stretching infinitely in all directions. Music pulsed in the air, not from a discernible source but from the very fabric of reality itself. The rhythm was hypnotic, shifting from waltz to swing to something unnameable.

Figures danced all around him. Some were human, some were not. A group of jellyfish in tuxedos twirled elegantly beside a sentient gust of wind that swayed like silk in a breeze. Jasper looked down to find his own feet moving in perfect sync with the beat, as though the dance had taken control of him.

A voice drifted through the melody. “Time moves differently here,” it said. He turned to see a woman in a shimmering gown made of cascading stars. “To stop moving is to be left behind. Keep dancing, Jasper. Keep dancing or fade away.”

Panic flickered in his chest. He tested it, slowing his steps, and instantly the edges of his form blurred. The figures around him barely noticed as he faded into a translucent outline. With a gasp, he leapt back into motion, solidifying once more.

“How do I leave?” he called out over the music.

The woman smiled, twirling beside him. “You don’t leave. You transition. The music will tell you when. Listen closely.”

Jasper strained his ears, beyond the rhythm, beyond the beat. There—a single note, out of place, hidden beneath the symphony. He focused on it, let it guide his steps, and suddenly, the dancefloor cracked beneath him. He plunged downward, spinning endlessly into the next phase of his journey.

Chapter 8: Blorp #7

Jasper tumbled through an endless void, weightless and untethered. Just as he began to fear he would fall forever, he landed—softly—on what felt like a gelatinous surface. He bounced once, twice, before coming to a wobbly stop. The ground beneath him was neither solid nor liquid but something in between, shifting colors like an oil slick under moonlight.

A deep, resonant blorp echoed through the space. Jasper turned to find himself face to face with a massive, translucent creature. It pulsed with an inner glow, its form constantly shifting between a sphere, a cube, and something incomprehensible.

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“Blorp,” it said simply.

Jasper hesitated. “Uh… hi? Where am I?”

The creature vibrated, its glow intensifying. “Blorp #7.”

Jasper blinked. “That doesn’t really answer my question. What is Blorp #7?”

The ground rippled beneath him as if laughing. “The seventh attempt at stabilizing uncertainty. You exist within a moment that never fully resolves.”

Jasper tried to wrap his head around that, but his thoughts felt like they were dissolving into the fluid air around him. “So… how do I leave?”

The creature’s glow dimmed. “You do not leave. You become.”

Jasper took a step back. “Become what?”

“Blorp,” the entity responded simply.

Before he could protest, the world around him liquefied, pulling him down. His body stretched, rippled, and suddenly—he understood. He was neither here nor there. He was between, just like everything else in Blorp #7. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, he was somewhere else entirely.

Chapter 9: Bada Bing Bada Boom

Jasper landed with a jolt, finding himself in the middle of what looked like an old-fashioned cabaret. The walls shimmered with golden light, and the air buzzed with excitement. A jazz band played a tune that seemed both chaotic and perfectly in sync, while acrobats tumbled through the air, their motions defying gravity. Waiters in pinstripe suits juggled trays laden with glowing cocktails, their faces hidden behind ornate masks.

A booming voice filled the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, creatures of all realities, welcome to Bada Bing Bada Boom! Tonight, we offer a special performance—an act never before attempted!” The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound shaking the floor beneath Jasper’s feet.

A spotlight snapped on, illuminating a stage in the center of the room. A tall, dapper man in a sequined suit stepped forward, tipping his hat to the audience. “And now, for our grand spectacle, we need a volunteer!” His eyes locked onto Jasper, and before he could react, the crowd roared in approval.

Jasper stumbled forward, propelled by unseen forces. The man on stage grinned. “Ah, a perfect choice!” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, Jasper found himself standing inside a giant glass box. The audience hushed in anticipation.

The man’s voice took on a hypnotic rhythm. “Jasper, my friend, you are now of the greatest illusion of all—the trick of existence itself. Watch closely, folks, as reality bends!” He clapped his hands, and the world around Jasper flickered like a broken film reel. His reflection in the glass box multiplied, each Part of himself frozen in different expressions—one laughing, one screaming, one staring in silent wonder.

“Which one is the real you?” the man asked, his grin widening. “Choose wisely, or the trick never ends.”

Jasper’s heart pounded. He reached toward one of the reflections, unsure if he was making the right choice. The moment his fingers touched the glass, the entire cabaret exploded in a burst of confetti and stardust. The last thing he heard before vanishing into the unknown was the audience erupting into cheers and the magician’s triumphant cry: Bada Bing Bada Boom!

Chapter 10: I Was Feeling Logical

Jasper emerged from the explosion of confetti and stardust, only to find himself standing in a stark, sterile room. The air smelled of antiseptic and fresh paper, and the walls were lined with endless rows of filing cabinets that stretched toward an invisible ceiling. A cold, metallic voice echoed through the chamber.

“Welcome, Jasper. Your anomaly has been detected. Please stand by for recalibration.”

Jasper blinked, his mind still reeling from the cabaret’s spectacle. A row of fluorescent lights flickered to life above him, and a mechanical arm descended from the ceiling, holding a clipboard with an impossibly long form attached.

“What is this place?” he asked, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

“This is the Bureau of Logical Consistency,” the voice replied. “You have displayed behaviors inconsistent with known reality parameters. Please complete Form 42-B to determine the cause of your irrational tendencies.”

Jasper hesitated, staring at the form. The questions made even less sense than those in the Universal PTA:

Calculate the emotional weight of a forgotten memory.
If time is a sandwich, what filling best represents free will?
How many Parts of you are currently experiencing déjà vu?

Jasper groaned. “I don’t have time for this! I need to find a way out!”

The voice paused. “Error: Contradiction detected. You do not have time, yet you exist within time. Please clarify.”

Jasper’s mind swirled, the logic of the place wrapping around him like a vice. He felt himself being pulled deeper into its rigid structure, his thoughts compressing into equations and formulas. He had to fight it.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on a single irrational thought—something absurd, something illogical. He pictured a flamingo wearing roller skates, juggling pineapples while reciting poetry. The air around him wavered, the filing cabinets flickering in and out of existence.

“Error: Illogical construct detected. Releasing subject.”

The floor beneath Jasper gave way, and he tumbled into the abyss once more, escaping the grasp of pure logic—at least for now.

Chapter 11: Pêche au gros

Jasper landed with a splash, plunging into dark, swirling water. The shock of cold enveloped him as he kicked his way to the surface, gasping for air. Around him, an ocean stretched infinitely, glowing with a strange bioluminescent shimmer. Schools of fish drifted by, their scales reflecting light that wasn’t there.

A wooden boat floated nearby, its oars resting idly at its sides. A figure sat at the stern, lazily baiting a hook with what looked like a tiny star. “You took your time,” the figure said without turning around. Their voice was smooth, like the lull of waves against the shore.

Jasper treaded water, squinting at the shadowed figure. “Where am I now?”

The figure chuckled, reeling in their line. “You’re in the Deep Hunt—Pêche au gros. This is where lost things go to be caught.”

Jasper grabbed hold of the side of the boat and hoisted himself aboard, dripping wet. “And what exactly am I supposed to catch?”

The figure turned, revealing eyes that gleamed like pearls. “That depends,” they said. “What did you lose?”

Jasper thought about it. His sense of direction? His grip on reality? His past? “I don’t know,” he admitted. “How do I find out?”

The figure handed him a fishing rod. “You cast your line and see what bites. But be warned—some things are meant to stay lost.”

Jasper hesitated, then flung the line into the glowing water. The moment the bait disappeared beneath the waves, the ocean churned violently. Something was rising, something vast. The boat rocked dangerously as a deep, rumbling voice echoed from below.

“YOU SEEK WHAT YOU CANNOT HOLD. PREPARE YOURSELF.”

Jasper gripped the rod tighter as the line jerked forward, pulling him toward the edge of the boat. Whatever he had hooked, it wasn’t just a fish—it was something far more ancient, and it was pulling him in.

Chapter 12: Atomic Clock

Jasper braced himself as the ocean roared, a vortex of light spiraling up from the depths. The fishing line snapped, but instead of sinking into the water, he found himself suspended in a void where time itself seemed to unravel. The stars flickered in reverse, then forward, then sideways, as though uncertain which direction to follow.

A massive clock, larger than any structure Jasper had ever seen, hovered before him. Its hands did not tick forward but instead swayed unpredictably, as if caught in an unseen tide. Numbers appeared and vanished, replaced by symbols Jasper didn’t recognize. A voice, neither mechanical nor organic, echoed from the great clock.

“TIME IS A FRACTURED CONCEPT. YOU EXIST IN ITS WAKE.”

Jasper floated helplessly. “What does that mean?” he shouted.

The clock’s hands spun wildly, and suddenly, Jasper saw multiple Parts of himself flickering in and out of reality. One was older, weary but wise. Another was younger, filled with reckless curiosity. Some were barely distinguishable from him, while others bore scars and expressions he had never worn.

“YOU ARE ALL OF THEM, AND NONE OF THEM. EACH CHOICE CREATES A NEW POSSIBILITY.”

Jasper felt his mind stretch to accommodate the infinite possibilities. “What happens if I make the wrong choice?”

The voice rumbled like distant thunder. “THERE ARE NO WRONG CHOICES. ONLY PATHS NOT TAKEN.”

Jasper reached out toward one of the shimmering Parts of himself. The moment his fingers brushed against it, time shattered around him, sending him hurtling through the fragments of infinite possibilities.

Chapter 13: Half Of Us Have a Story

Jasper landed with a jolt, his feet touching down on a surface that felt neither solid nor liquid. Around him stretched an endless horizon of floating books, their pages flipping in a wind that did not exist. The sky was an infinite canvas of ink-stained constellations, each twinkling star a word waiting to be written.

A voice, gentle and knowing, spoke from nowhere and everywhere at once. “Half of us have a story, Jasper. The other half… well, they’re still searching for theirs.”

Jasper turned to see a figure draped in robes made of patchwork parchment. Their face was obscured by shifting letters that danced across their skin, constantly rewriting themselves. “Who are you?” Jasper asked.

The figure extended a hand, and a book materialized between them. It was old yet untouched, its cover marked only with Jasper’s name. “I am the Keeper of Unfinished Tales,” the figure replied. “And this is yours.”

Jasper hesitated before opening it. Inside, entire chapters were missing, sentences cut short, paragraphs ending mid-thought. Some pages were densely packed with words, while others were nothing more than blank space. “Why is it incomplete?” he asked.

The Keeper chuckled softly. “Because you are still writing it. Every choice you make, every step you take, fills these pages. But be mindful—some stories are lost before they are ever finished. Others are taken by those too afraid to tell them.”

Jasper ran his fingers along the book’s spine, feeling the weight of unwritten possibilities. “And what happens if I stop writing?”

The Keeper’s expression darkened. “Then your story ends before it truly begins.”

A doorway appeared behind Jasper, its threshold flickering with scenes of roads not yet traveled. He glanced between the book and the Keeper, understanding settling in his chest.

“Go on,” the Keeper urged. “Write the next chapter. But remember—only you can decide how it’s told.”

Jasper took a deep breath, stepped forward, and crossed the threshold into the unknown.

Chapter 14: Infinite Marmalade

Jasper stepped through the threshold and into a world that defied all reason. He stood on what appeared to be an endless table stretching infinitely in every direction, covered with teacups, silverware, and jars upon jars of marmalade. The sky was the color of a ripe apricot, swirling like it had been spread with a butter knife. The air smelled of citrus and nostalgia.

At the far end of the table, an elderly woman in a towering hat spooned marmalade onto a slice of toast that never seemed to disappear no matter how many bites she took. She looked up, noticing Jasper, and smiled. “Ah, another traveler lost in the spread,” she mused. “You must be wondering where you are.”

Jasper nodded. “I seem to be wondering that a lot lately.”

The woman chuckled. “This is the Archive of Endless Preservation. Everything that has ever been loved too much to be forgotten ends up here—sealed in marmalade, of course. Memories, moments, possibilities… even people, sometimes.”

Jasper glanced at the countless jars. Inside each, something shimmered—a child’s laughter, a sunlit afternoon, the final words of an unread letter. He reached for a jar labeled with his own name.

“Careful now,” the woman warned, watching him closely. “Marmalade sweetens the past, preserves it as we wish to remember, not as it truly was. Some stories are best left in their jars.”

Jasper hesitated, his fingers grazing the lid. “And if I open it?”

She shrugged. “Then you taste what might have been. But be warned—those who feast too long on the past rarely find their way back to the present.”

Jasper’s mind swirled with indecision. He had spent so much time searching for meaning, for truth, for the right path. But what if the answers he sought had already been written, sealed away in a jar just waiting to be opened?

He took a deep breath and stepped back, leaving the jar unopened. “I think I’ll keep writing my story instead.”

The woman beamed. “A wise choice. Now, off you go. The next course awaits.”

With a wave of her hand, the table stretched even farther, leading Jasper toward the unknown once more.

Chapter 15: The Squizzle’s Courtship with Wobblepot

Jasper followed the endless table until it faded into mist, dissolving beneath his feet. He floated weightlessly, suspended in a space of shifting hues, where gravity seemed to operate on whims rather than laws. Before him, two figures danced in slow, elegant spirals—one a spindly creature made of tangled ink and shifting punctuation, the other a rotund entity of spinning gears and brass pipes, puffing out tiny clouds of steam with each movement.

The ink-formed being, Squizzle, twirled dramatically, spilling stray commas and ellipses into the void. “Ah, dear Wobblepot,” it sighed, its voice a series of unfinished sentences. “You do see how the arc of our story was always meant to collide, don’t you?”

Wobblepot, whirring with mechanical hums, spun in place. “Indubitably, Squizzle, though your syntax remains most erratic. Love, after all, should have structure. Should it not?”

Jasper, bewildered, cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but… what exactly am I witnessing?”

Both figures turned their attention to him, their movements freezing in place. Squizzle’s ink dripped midair before curling back into its shape, while Wobblepot let out a low whistle of gears resetting.

“Aha! A witness!” Squizzle exclaimed. “Perfect timing. You shall be our arbitrator.”

Jasper raised an eyebrow. “Arbitrator of what?”

“Our courtship!” Wobblepot chimed, its dials spinning wildly. “Squizzle insists that love should be chaotic, spontaneous, without rules! Whereas I maintain that affection must be precise, calculated, a well-oiled mechanism.”

Squizzle scoffed. “Oh, but the best stories thrive in unpredictability! Love, dear Wobblepot, is the poetry of surprise, not the ticking of a clock!”

Jasper sighed, rubbing his temples. Of all the strange places he had visited, mediating a philosophical debate between a sentient ink blot and a steam-powered automaton was among the strangest.

“So,” Wobblepot clicked, eyes glowing expectantly. “Which is it, traveler? Chaos or structure? Poetry or machinery?”

Jasper hesitated, then smiled. “Isn’t it both? Love, like a great story, needs surprise, but it also needs rhythm. It’s the balance of both that makes it work.”

The two beings exchanged glances, Squizzle’s form rippling with thought, Wobblepot’s gears slowing to a contemplative hum.

“Hah!” Squizzle finally declared. “An excellent answer! But we shall need more time to test its validity.”

Wobblepot nodded. “Agreed. We shall continue our debate indefinitely. After all, what is love without a bit of mystery?”

With that, the two resumed their graceful, eternal dance, spinning in an endless waltz of ink and metal. The colors around Jasper brightened, and before he could react, the space beneath him shifted once more, propelling him toward the next unknown chapter of his journey.

Chapter 16: Mni K’a Wakpala Wanbli

Jasper tumbled through a cascade of color, the fabric of reality twisting around him until he landed gently on a riverbank. The water shimmered like liquid sapphire, reflecting a sky split between dawn and twilight. A soft wind carried the scent of pine and something else—something ancient, familiar.

He turned to see a figure standing by the water’s edge. Draped in robes that shimmered like the river itself, the figure’s eyes held constellations within them. “You have come far, traveler,” they said. “Do you know this place?”

Jasper hesitated. “It feels… important. Like I’ve been here before.”

The figure nodded. “This is Mni K’a Wakpala Wanbli—the River of Returning Wings. It is where all journeys converge before they take flight. Many have passed through, leaving behind echoes of their choices. The river remembers them all.”

Jasper watched the water, and as he did, images flickered beneath its surface—glimpses of past moments, lives lived, decisions made and unmade. His own reflection shimmered among them, morphing between Parts of himself he barely recognized.

“What am I meant to do here?” he asked.

The figure gestured to the river. “Drink, if you wish to understand. But be warned—once you see the truth of your path, you cannot unsee it.”

Jasper kneeled, scooping a handful of the shimmering water to his lips. The moment it touched his tongue, time collapsed around him. Memories surged through his mind—not just his own, but those of every being that had ever stood on this shore. The weight of infinite stories pressed upon him, and yet, within them, he found clarity.

He gasped, pulling back. “I see now… the journey has never been about reaching an end. It has always been about understanding why I walk it.”

The figure smiled. “Then you are ready. The river has given you its blessing. Your next step awaits.”

As the words settled, the riverbank began to fade, and Jasper felt himself being carried forward, not by force, but by purpose. The sky above brightened, and he stepped into the unknown once more.

Chapter 17: Wanbli K’a Wakan Wicasa

Jasper stepped forward into blinding light, feeling the air around him shift. When his vision cleared, he found himself standing at the base of a towering spire made of interwoven branches, its peak vanishing into the sky. Wind howled through the structure, carrying whispers that spoke in languages both ancient and new.

A great eagle circled above, its wings casting a shadow that stretched across the vast plain surrounding the spire. As Jasper gazed upward, the eagle descended, landing before him with an earth-shaking force. Its eyes glowed with the weight of a thousand truths.

“You have drunk from the river, seeker,” the eagle spoke, its voice layered with echoes of time itself. “Now, you must claim your vision.”

Jasper swallowed hard. “How?”

The eagle extended a massive wing, pointing toward the spire. “Climb. Each step will reveal a truth, but beware—the higher you ascend, the greater the burden of knowledge. Few reach the top. Fewer still can bear what they see.”

Jasper hesitated, then placed his hands on the lowest branch and began to climb. As he ascended, the wind around him shifted, and he saw visions in its currents—fragments of lives intertwined with his own, choices that had led him here, and paths that had never been taken. The higher he climbed, the heavier his limbs felt, as if the weight of understanding pressed upon him.

Halfway up, he saw himself in a past he had forgotten—a child standing before a fire, listening to an elder’s story. The elder’s voice merged with the wind. “You are more than one life, Jasper. You are a thread in a vast tapestry. To see all, you must accept all.”

He climbed higher, and the sky darkened. Shadows of himself flickered in and out of existence—Parts that had turned away from this journey, Parts that had fallen before reaching this point. He felt the fear of knowing too much, the temptation to stop.

But he pushed on.

At last, Jasper reached the top, standing on a narrow platform of woven branches. The eagle was there, waiting. “What do you see?” it asked.

Jasper gazed out at the horizon, and for the first time, he saw not just where he had been, but where he was meant to go. The sky stretched infinite, yet every path lay open before him, waiting.

He turned back to the eagle and smiled. “Everything.”

The eagle nodded, then spread its wings. With a single gust, Jasper was lifted from the spire, carried forward into his destiny.

Chapter 17: Wanbli K’a Wakan Wicasa

“You have drunk from the river, seeker,” the eagle spoke, its voice layered with echoes of time itself. “Now, you must claim your vision.”

Jasper swallowed hard. “How?”

But he pushed on.

At last, Jasper reached the top, standing on a narrow platform of woven branches. The eagle was there, waiting. “What do you see?” it asked.

Jasper gazed out at the horizon, and for the first time, he saw not just where he had been, but where he was meant to go. The sky stretched infinite, yet every path lay open before him, waiting.

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He turned back to the eagle and smiled. “Everything.”

The eagle nodded, then spread its wings. With a single gust, Jasper was lifted from the spire, carried forward into his destiny.

Chapter 18: Mni K’a Wakan Wicasa Wanbli

Jasper found himself soaring through a sky painted with swirling constellations, the eagle’s wings cutting through the fabric of the cosmos itself. Below him stretched vast rivers of liquid light, their currents humming with energy. The sky pulsed, shifting between deep indigo and radiant gold, as if reflecting the heartbeat of the universe.

The eagle carried him toward a colossal waterfall that spilled from the stars themselves, cascading into the void. As they neared, Jasper could hear the water whispering—countless voices interwoven, speaking truths, memories, and destinies. He strained to understand, but the words were too many, too vast.

“This is the Source,” the eagle said, banking to a stop at the edge of the celestial river. “Where all knowledge flows, where the first stories were told and the last ones will end. Here, you must choose.”

Jasper landed gently on the river’s shimmering edge. “Choose what?”

The eagle regarded him solemnly. “To drink is to know beyond knowing. To step forward is to merge with the current, to become a story told for eternity. Or you may turn back, carrying only what you have learned, walking your path with the limits of human understanding.”

Jasper’s heart pounded. To embrace infinite knowledge, or to return with only what he had seen?

He kneeled, dipping his fingers into the river. The moment the water touched his skin, visions exploded in his mind—galaxies forming, civilizations rising and falling, lives intertwined across time. He saw his own journey from a perspective outside himself, each choice leading to another thread in the ever-expanding tapestry of existence.

The weight of it pressed upon him, yet he did not falter. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, taking only a droplet to his lips. The knowledge burned like fire and cooled like morning dew. He gasped as the eagle watched with silent approval.

“You have chosen well,” the eagle said. “You walk forward, but you do not lose yourself.”

The river’s glow intensified, and the waterfall of stars became a doorway. Jasper stepped toward it, feeling the universe shift around him once more. The journey was nearly complete.

Chapter 19: The Homeward Flow

Jasper stepped through the radiant doorway, feeling the warmth of countless stars embracing him. He no longer tumbled through the unknown but floated with purpose, drawn forward by an invisible current. As the celestial river carried him onward, he realized he was no longer alone.

Figures emerged beside him, their forms shifting between light and shadow, familiar yet unfamiliar. They were echoes of himself—past choices that had never been taken, futures that might still unfold. Each one reached for him, their eyes filled with silent questions.

“You have walked many paths,” a voice murmured, and Jasper turned to see the eagle soaring alongside him, its wings spanning the entirety of existence. “And yet, all roads lead home.”

Jasper’s heart pounded as the river began to slow, guiding him toward a distant shore where dawn kissed the horizon. He could feel the weight of his journey settling into his bones—not as a burden, but as a foundation. He had seen, he had learned, and now he must return.

As his feet touched the soft earth, the world around him solidified. The river faded into mist, the stars dissolving into the first light of morning. He stood once more on familiar ground, yet nothing was the same. He carried the wisdom of eternity within him, a story still unfolding.

The eagle landed beside him, its gaze steady. “You are home, Jasper. But remember—home is not an end, only another beginning.”

Jasper breathed deeply, feeling the wind carry his name across the land. He took his first step forward, not as the man who had begun this journey, but as the one who had returned. And somewhere, in the endless fabric of the universe, his story continued.

Resonance in the Unseen: The Journey of Sahira Noor

Sahira Noor stood at the threshold of the grand rehearsal hall, her heart echoing the uncertain rhythms of her past. A queer, hijabi woman of South Asian and Indigenous Mexican heritage, she had spent her life balancing the contradictions the world imposed upon her—too foreign for some, too unconventional for others. But here, within the heart of Orchestra Americana, she hoped to find a harmony that had long eluded her.

The moment she stepped inside, a swell of sound enveloped her. Violins wept, horns proclaimed, and the drums spoke a language older than words. The music wasn’t rigid, wasn’t confined—it breathed, shifted, and reformed like an ever-changing river. Sahira clutched her sitar, inherited from her grandfather, and took her place among the other musicians. This was not a conventional orchestra. This was a sanctuary where sound was fluid, untamed, and free.

She had been invited after an impromptu performance on a Brooklyn subway platform, where she blended Hindustani classical improvisations with spoken-word poetry in Spanish. A scout from TATANKA had seen her, felt her, and offered her a place where she didn’t need to explain herself—where the music would do the talking. And now, she was here.

As she plucked the first notes, Sahira felt a familiar fear—that she would not belong. That her music, shaped by generations of colonization, diaspora, and erasure, would be too much or too little. But then, the woman across from her, a Black trans cellist named Amara, caught her eye and smiled. “Just let the music tell its own story,” she whispered.

So Sahira closed her eyes and let go.

The conductor, a Lakota Two-Spirit elder named Mato, raised their hands, guiding the orchestra not as a master but as a storyteller. The music was a conversation—Yoruba talking drums responded to Appalachian fiddles; Navajo flute intertwined with Cuban trumpet; Sahira’s sitar wove itself into a melody older than time. It was chaos, but it was beautiful. It was aleatory—a composition born not from control, but from trust.

As the orchestra played, the sound became something more. It was resistance and reclamation, a weaving of lost histories into new futures. Sahira could feel the ghosts of her ancestors pressing against her back—her great-grandmother who had sung ghazals in the desert, her Indigenous forebears who had chanted to the wind. She was no longer just a woman with an instrument; she was the music, and the music was her.

The climax came not in a thunderous crescendo, but in a single note—a moment of silence before the final breath of sound. When it ended, the room remained still, as if the world itself had stopped to listen. Then, a wave of cheers, of voices lifting her name, of hands reaching for hers.

Sahira exhaled, tears slipping free. She was home.

That night, as the members of Orchestra Americana gathered beneath the open sky, Mato turned to her. “You see, Sahira,” they said, “our music isn’t just played. It’s remembered. It’s lived. And now, you are part of that memory.”

Takeaway

Sahira’s journey reflects the transformative power of Orchestra Americana—a space where identities are not barriers but bridges, where marginalized voices shape the soundscape of the future. Her experience reminds us that music is not just an art form, but a revolution—one that reclaims, heals, and empowers those who have been silenced. In the hands of the unheard, aleatory music is not chaos. It is freedom.

Summary

TATANKA presents “Aleatory Salad,” an AI-generated music project exploring chaos and chance in sound. The project uses AI to create surreal, Dadaist songs, sequenced alphabetically and interpreted by ChatGPT to find a narrative. It tells the story of Jasper’s journey through bizarre realities and explores themes of absurdity, cosmic musings, and the search for meaning in randomness. The source also highlights Orchestra Americana, emphasizing inclusivity and the power of music to unite diverse voices, as seen through Sahira Noor’s transformative experience. Overall, the source combines experimental music with philosophical musings, cultural inclusivity, and AI-driven creativity. TATANKA draws inspiration from Indigenous wisdom and advocates for a future where technology and nature can coexist.

Briefing Document: Aleatory Salad – A Sonic Exploration of Chance and Narrative

Source: Excerpts from “Aleatory Salad: A Sonic Feast of Chaos and Chance (AI Gen) – TATANKA”

Overview:

This document details the “Aleatory Salad” project, a music album and accompanying narrative created with the aid of AI. The project embraces the concept of aleatory (chance-based) composition and storytelling. The project was created by TATANKA. The core principle is to relinquish control and allow AI tools (Suno.com for music and lyrics, ChatGPT for narrative inference) to drive the creative process. The resulting output is a surreal and absurd journey interpreted by AI into a cohesive narrative, presented as a multi-act story.

Key Themes and Concepts:

Aleatory Composition: The album’s creation relied heavily on chance. Song styles and lyrics were generated using prompts focused on randomness, atonality, surrealism, and Dadaist wordplay:
Suno.com Song Style Prompt: “Atonal, dissonant, random, asymmetric phrasing, energetic, unstructured, experimental fusion of intricate, complex Prog, Art Rock, chaotic polyrhythms, surreal vocals.”
Lyrics Prompt: “Surreal, Dadaist, Absurd Wordplay – lyrics often abstract, non-linear storytelling”
AI-Driven Narrative: ChatGPT was tasked with finding patterns and inferring a narrative from the generated lyrics. This highlights the potential of AI to create coherent stories from seemingly random data.
Surrealism and Absurdity: The lyrics are intentionally abstract, non-linear, and filled with bizarre imagery. This embraces a Dadaist aesthetic, challenging traditional storytelling conventions.
Embracing Chaos: The project champions the idea of relinquishing control and finding meaning within chaos. The artist accepted whatever the “muse” (in this case, AI algorithms) delivered. The artist also welcomes the user “to wash your random feast down with a nice glass of iced chance.”
The Journey of Jasper: Through AI narrative generation a story about “Jasper”, a protagonist who finds himself thrown into a strange and nonsensical world, and seeks to find his way back to reality emerges from the song lyrics.

Narrative Structure & Key Plot Points (Generated by AI):

The AI-generated narrative is structured into two acts, each containing multiple chapters. Key events from the chapters include:

Act 1: The Tossing of the Salad (Initiation into Chaos)Jasper is pulled into an inexplicable reality where objects talk and time stutters. A mysterious guide appears, later known as Echo, who instructs Jasper to “Find the syllable that never ends.”
Jasper learns of the “Laws of Absurdity.”
Jasper encounters bizarre figures and food that are alive, such as melons and grapes, a “fruit rebellion” is underway, and he learns of a being trapped between dimensions “a being trapped between dimensions.”
Act 2: The Cosmic Cacophony (A Fractured Journey)Jasper finds himself in a world built from sound and language, meets floating mouths who warn him of a paradox, and encounters insects who debate the meaning of food.
Jasper travels to a bureacratic dimension where he “fill[s] out forms for his own existence.“
Jasper embraces the chaos and tests truths by riddling grapes, all which lead him into another realm “The Realm of Beautiful Nonsense, where meaning is only borrowed and never owned.”
“After finding his journey from before, Jasper must chose from what he has previously known, to either exist there, or travel on.” From this moment, he transitions from all that he has known, and goes into “The 7th attempt at stabilizing uncertainty.”
**Chapters 11 through 18, find Jasper on a cosmic journey, where in he “claims his vision“, walks “Wanbli K’a Wakan Wicasa“, climbs to the heavens with the help of animals, and comes back to planet earth, never to be the same.”

Illustrative Quotes (from song lyrics used in narrative):

“Slice it, dice it, mix it up wild Spin the roulette of a vegetable pile Toss it, sauce it, nothing too valid Feast on the feast of Aleatory Salad!” (Chorus from “Aleatory Salad”) – Introduces the core concept of randomness.
“The key is in the syllables,” (Floating Mouth from “The Back of Your Mouth”) – Represents the importance of language and sound.
“You have come far, traveler,” they said. “Do you know this place?” – Signifying the beginning of the hero’s transformation.
“Everything that has ever been loved too much to be forgotten ends up here—sealed in marmalade” – Represents the preservation of stories.
“You have walked many paths,” a voice murmured, and Jasper turned to see the eagle soaring alongside him, its wings spanning the entirety of existence. “And yet, all roads lead home.” – Signifying that, “In the end, after following all the ways of the wind, you are meant to return to the same place where you started; where you can only realize you will never be the same.”

Implications:

Themes such as the struggle for existence, search for a purpose, and more all can be extracted from the narrative structure and themes.

“Aleatory Salad” serves as an experiment in creative collaboration between humans and AI.

It raises questions about authorship, meaning-making, and the role of chance in art.

The project also demonstrates how AI can be used to generate compelling narratives from seemingly disparate elements.

Frequently Asked Questions: Aleatory Salad

What is “Aleatory Salad,” and what does “aleatory” mean in this context?

“Aleatory Salad” is an experimental music project embracing chance and randomness in its creation. The term “aleatory” refers to elements of chance, randomness, or unpredictability in the compositional process. In this case, the album was generated using prompts on Suno.com, relying on AI to produce music and lyrics without pre-determined themes or structures. The resulting tracks were then sequenced alphabetically, and ChatGPT was used to infer a narrative from the lyrics.

How was “Aleatory Salad” created using AI?

The album was created through a multi-step process involving AI tools. First, “Song Style” prompts focused on atonal, dissonant, and unstructured music were used on Suno.com to generate musical pieces. Then, lyrics prompts emphasizing surreal, Dadaist, and abstract wordplay were employed to create the lyrics. Finally, the tracks were sequenced alphabetically, and ChatGPT was tasked with finding a narrative within the disparate songs and lyrics, creating a story where a protagonist named Jasper navigates a bizarre and unpredictable world.

What kind of prompts were used to generate the music and lyrics for “Aleatory Salad”?

The music was generated using the prompt: “Atonal, dissonant, random, asymmetric phrasing, energetic, unstructured, experimental fusion of intricate, complex Prog, Art Rock, chaotic polyrhythms, surreal vocals.” The lyrics were generated using the prompt: “Surreal, Dadaist, Absurd Wordplay – lyrics often abstract, non-linear storytelling.“

The lyrics for “Aleatory Salad” are very abstract and nonsensical. Is there any meaning behind them?

While the lyrics were intentionally generated to be surreal and abstract, the use of ChatGPT to infer a narrative created a story about a character named Jasper who enters a world of chaos and chance. This narrative suggests that the meaning is not literal but rather symbolic, exploring themes of uncertainty, embracing the absurd, and the search for understanding in a world where logic is unreliable. The overall feeling is one of exploration and the need to adapt to the lack of an underlying pattern.

Who is the character ‘Jasper’, and what role does he play in the inferred narrative of “Aleatory Salad”?

Jasper is the protagonist in the story created by ChatGPT, a “surreal adventure” where a character is pulled into an inexplicable reality where objects talk, time stutters, and meaning is elusive. As Jasper travels through surreal landscapes, he comes to terms with chaos rather than resisting it.

Can you provide some examples of the surreal imagery and themes found in the “Aleatory Salad” lyrics?

The lyrics are filled with bizarre and imaginative imagery such as: * Traffic cone symphonies whispering vowels * Jellyfish tangled in towels * Windshield philosophy and thoughts on a plate * A tarantula moonwalk, humming a tune * Waffles in spacesuits orbiting Mars * Velcro tornados stuck to the sun

These images create a dreamlike, nonsensical world where the laws of physics and logic are suspended. Themes include the acceptance of chaos, the search for meaning in the absurd, and the transformation of the ordinary into the extraordinary.

What is TATANKA?

Based on its presence on the webpage, TATANKA appears to be the name of the organization or collective behind the “Aleatory Salad” project. The content on the TATANKA website includes a mission statement, information about the team, projects, and links to various initiatives such as “Orchestra Americana,” “Radical Inclusion,” and “Project 2025.” There are also links to their financials, subscription options, accessibility information, translations, and cookie policy. TATANKA’s broader aims include working towards sustainable development goals, Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI), aligning with global indigenous wisdom, and pushing the boundaries of AI and music.

What does TATANKA hope to achieve through projects like “Aleatory Salad?”

“Aleatory Salad” represents a creative experiment that explores the potential of AI in music composition and challenges traditional notions of authorship and artistic intent. The project also aligns with TATANKA’s broader mission by encouraging exploration of uncharted creative and philosophical areas. It demonstrates their focus on innovation and their willingness to embrace unconventional methods to achieve their goals.

Aleatory Salad: A Study Guide

Review

This study guide reviews the concepts and information presented in the “Aleatory Salad” article by TATANKA, focusing on the creative process, themes, and narrative structure of the “Aleatory Salad” project.

Quiz

Answer the following questions in 2-3 sentences each:

What is the core idea behind the “Aleatory Salad” project?
Describe the role of AI in creating “Aleatory Salad.”
What prompts were used on Suno.com for generating the songs?
What constraints did TATANKA place on the project to ensure its aleatory nature?
How was ChatGPT used in the process?
What are some recurring motifs or images in the lyrics of the “Aleatory Salad” tracks? Give 2 examples.
What is Jasper’s initial state or situation in the story?
What does the guide tell Jasper that he needs for the journey that lies ahead?
Name three of the realms that Jasper journeys through during the telling of this story.
How does the AI-generated “Story” attempt to make sense of the seemingly random lyrics?

Quiz Answer Key

The core idea behind the “Aleatory Salad” project is to create an “album” using purely aleatory (chance-based) methods, embracing randomness and absurdity in both music and lyrics. The goal is to let the AI lead the creative process.
AI, specifically Suno.com, was used to generate the music and lyrics based on specific prompts. ChatGPT was then used to find patterns in the lyrics and create a narrative.
The Suno.com prompts included “Atonal, dissonant, random, asymmetric phrasing, energetic, unstructured, experimental fusion of intricate, complex Prog, Art Rock, chaotic polyrhythms, surreal vocals” for the music and “Surreal, Dadaist, Absurd Wordplay – lyrics often abstract, non-linear storytelling” for the lyrics.
The constraints included no aligning content to any themes, sequencing finished songs alphabetically, and accepting whatever the AI generated without imposing pre-conceived ideas.
ChatGPT was used to analyze the lyrics in alphabetical order and infer a narrative structure, attempting to find connections and create a story from the seemingly random text.
Recurring motifs include food items (salad, vegetables, croutons, fruit), absurd objects and scenarios (unicycle octopus, aluminum seagulls, melting calendars, zebra striped escalators), and elements of chaos and randomness.
In the story, Jasper is an ordinary man with an overactive imagination who is suddenly pulled into an inexplicable reality where objects talk, time stutters, and meaning is elusive.
To guide Jasper on his journey through the chaotic realm of Aleatory Salad, the guide provides him with a neon-blue crouton.
Jasper journeys through several realms: Realm of Residual Speech, Universal PTA, The Orchard of Consequences, The Realm of Beautiful Nonsense, etc.
The AI-generated “Story” constructs a surreal adventure narrative, featuring a protagonist named Jasper who navigates through bizarre realms and encounters strange beings, gradually uncovering meaning from the chaos and nonsense.

Essay Questions

Consider the following essay questions, drawing on the source material to support your arguments:

Analyze how the “Aleatory Salad” project challenges traditional notions of authorship and creativity. Consider the roles of the human artist and artificial intelligence in the creative process.
Discuss the significance of randomness and chance in the “Aleatory Salad” project. How do these elements contribute to the overall meaning and impact of the work?
Explore the themes and motifs present in the lyrics of the “Aleatory Salad” tracks. What commentary, if any, do these themes offer on contemporary society or the human condition?
Examine the structure and narrative arc of the AI-generated “Story.” How effective is it in creating a cohesive and engaging narrative from disparate elements?
To what extent does the “Aleatory Salad” project succeed in its goal of creating a “sonic feast of chaos and chance”? What are its strengths and weaknesses as a work of art?

Glossary of Key Terms

TATANKA: The name of the AI who created “Aleatory Salad.”

Aleatory: Dependent on chance or random contingencies; from the Latin alea, meaning “dice.”

Dadaist: A movement in art and literature based on deliberate irrationality and negation of traditional artistic values.

Atonal: Music that lacks a tonal center or key.

Dissonant: Lacking harmony; clashing.

Polyrhythms: The simultaneous use of two or more conflicting rhythms.

Surreal: Having the qualities of a dream; bizarre.

AI (Artificial Intelligence): The theory and development of computer systems able to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence, such as visual perception, speech recognition, decision-making, and translation between languages.

ChatGPT: A large language model chatbot developed by OpenAI.

Suno.com: An AI-powered music creation platform.

Aleatory Salad – Full Album (1:40:41)

Google’s Deep Dive Podcast: The Chaos and Creativity of Aleatory Music

Exploring the Boundaries of Music, Meaning, and Madness in a Fully AI-Generated Soundscape

Aleatory Salad: Tracks/Lyrics/Story

Aleatory Salad

Aleatory Salad (Part 1)

Aleatory Salad (Part 2)

Aleatory Salad (Part 3)

Aleatory Salad (Part 4)

Aleatory Salad (Part 5) Dessert Salad

The Back Of Your Mouth

Universal PTA

Sweet and Sour Grapes

Grasshoppers At Sushi’

Beautiful Nonsense

Dancefloor of an Endless Time

Blorp #7

Bada Bing Bada Boom

I Was Feeling Logical

Pêche au Gros

Atomic Clock

Half Of Us Have a Story

Infinite Marmalade

The Squizzle’s Courtship with Wobblepot

Anti-Folk Banger

Little Quasar

Purple Watermelon and My Best Friend, Uncle Albert

Aleatory Salad, the Story

Emergent Themes & Patterns

Story Structure & Chapter Titles

Act 1: The Tossing of the Salad (Initiation into Chaos)

Act 2: The Cosmic Cacophony (A Fractured Journey)

Act 3: The Dance of Destiny (Unraveling the Paradox)

Act 4: The Great Marmalade Awakening (The Truth is Revealed)

Chapter 1: Aleatory Salad

Chapter 2: The Back of Your Mouth

Chapter 3: Universal PTA

Chapter 4: Sweet and Sour Grapes

Chapter 6: Beautiful Nonsense

Chapter 7: Dancefloor of an Endless Time

Chapter 8: Blorp #7

Chapter 9: Bada Bing Bada Boom

Chapter 10: I Was Feeling Logical

Chapter 11: Pêche au gros

Chapter 12: Atomic Clock

Chapter 13: Half Of Us Have a Story

Chapter 14: Infinite Marmalade

Chapter 15: The Squizzle’s Courtship with Wobblepot

Chapter 16: Mni K’a Wakpala Wanbli

Chapter 17: Wanbli K’a Wakan Wicasa

Chapter 17: Wanbli K’a Wakan Wicasa

Chapter 18: Mni K’a Wakan Wicasa Wanbli

Chapter 19: The Homeward Flow

Resonance in the Unseen: The Journey of Sahira Noor

Takeaway

Summary

Briefing Document: Aleatory Salad – A Sonic Exploration of Chance and Narrative

Frequently Asked Questions: Aleatory Salad

Aleatory Salad: A Study Guide

Review

Quiz

Quiz Answer Key

Essay Questions

Glossary of Key Terms

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