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1101 I miss new ampi music |
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13.1 |
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i've noticed that when i am trying to do something like learn a new programming language, it's pretty ruinous for me to switch to something else for a little while: ...like, where was i again? however, once i put in enough sustained focus, a siphon has started, and then i can switch between that and whatever. |
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good bad engrish is something i look for on amazon. like, they meant "techwear" but they've spelled it "teachwear" and let's have a look it was through this sort of process that i found a "wizard" hoodie, which, looking at the image, oh, it's just a light hoodie cut extra long, kind of like a raincoat, and it has a gigantic hood i can use to protect my night vision from halogens, cool, sold. wizard, though? lol whatever promptly one of the most functional pieces of clothing i've ever owned. i have fair skin and i shave my head, and it's 90f+ scorchers recently, and i very much value this during the day to avoid being burnt to a crisp with my many miles of daily wok. then, at night, yes, it's become muscle memory to tug the hood forward as high-end halogens loom, then tug it back once they have passed. the material is thin enough that i can actually see the oncoming car through it, but without being blinded. this has led to an odd problem. in, like, a bar, it's socially rude to block your eyes out in such a manner; i'd never with this there. but people seem to have the same reaction even though they're driving a pickup truck with halogens at eye level and i'm just on a walk trying to protect my night vision. that i do get a sense of: hey fuck u why u no look at me because the ignorance of your truck is blinding. duh |
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but then wizard, ok, wizard, i understand what they meant now. continuing on: "one of the most functional pieces of clothing i've ever owned" is "the pockets are helluva deep" like, i can get in there up to my elbows. i can chuck medium-large jug of powerade in there and it disappears. then i can just sort of reach down and make it reappear, and... shit, that's why they called it a wizard hoodie and since i figured that out i've been having great fun getting better at it. someone's looking at me from their halogen pickup truck and a jug of red poweraide appears out of nowhere, i take a sip, and it disappears off somewhere unknown and my hands are empty again i had absolutely no interest in slight of hand before this. but now i'm finding it absolutely hilarious to make things appear and disappear in order to confuse people |
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thoroughly in the column of, "a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day," i was a bit drunk last night and i managed to accidentally set windows desktop image to a folder of photos of vermont from 2004 or something. that it's randomly picking them, separate both monitors, kind of randomly scaled. like, i'll take a screenshat it's picking photos i took in the forest in 2004 and scaling them randomly, i actually have no idea what triggers them to change. and windows is at its best when it breaks like this |
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my dad gave up academia for industry because the latter didn't pay. the first good story, building E10 at MIT, i am playing Crystal Quest on a mac classic, this game just blowing my mind; beat the piss out of nintendo despite black and white for real. that there is just this godly impossible high score with a timestamp of something like 2am and the name is STEVEN PINKER, all caps, i clearly remember because no one else went all caps... and i ask my dad: who is steven pinker, and how did he get a score this good? and my dad immediately loses it giggles and eventually recovers enough to explain "no someone else put that in there as a joke, steven pinker would never play that game" and then i'm all "why?" and my dad like, "..oh... he's just too stiff" but probably the other best story from that place is dad and i are in a storage closet and he's all "oh yes, this is whitman's cat's brain." vivisected and made into slides. my dad was then very quick to catch himself, that, "that cat had already died" and "it's just what whitman wanted to do so he did it" that i was thinking on it just now, and in a weird way, it's actually quite sweet. i am certain that man loved his cat very deeply, and this was his way of keeping part of the cat around forever, to have its brain sliced up and digitized. because then he'll always have a part of the cat still it's admittedly a bit unusual and i never understood until just now, so i thot i'd share |
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i'm in the ktichen and i'm about to go out for a wok, and i think, "i'd like to dance for a bit." i opt to take off my l. l. beans, um [googles] "Men's Wicked Good Sheepskin Shearling Lined Moccasin Slippers" and go socks on tile floor. but it's dirty tile floor and i'm a sweaty oaf. i need to change my socks first oh, yes, i want to do the swords from phat planet. great fun. oh whoops i forgot my air sword there i tap out when it starts spawning multiple sword arms and put on daft punk's da funk. you have to have to just imagine your feet snapping to the floor with magnets, and... made it through that one then i put on "cowgirl" and neh i'm not making it all the way through this. because whole point is it's late and i'm just burning myself out; i'll go on a leisurely wok after this. about halfway through i take a rest lean on the kitchen island. then, oh, hell, my favorite part coming up, and i... i refer to it as "throwing myself back in the pool." i've kind of my dance zone and i'm leaning on the kitchen island for a rest, and so then i just kind of take a moment, and, yeah, hurl myself back into the dance zone and i'm in it again. i come with this nice kind of clover pattern. but then alright i've had it and that was good enough i thought i'd write it up forbe da wok. i think i have proprioceptive synaesthesia. |
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> i had absolutely no interest in slight of hand before this. but now i'm finding it absolutely hilarious to make things appear and disappear in order to confuse people really, just, there's a moment in "house, MD" where wilson walks in on house doing something like bouncing a ball and declares, "Congratulations, you've mastered yet another useless skill." there is not much of a point to this, i just find it amusing to learn it. i decided to focus on my flashlight, since i have one in my pocket much more than a drink. lots of subtasks: do i put it in handle first, or light first? handle first is easier going in, harder going out. but going out, i can have my hand on it already and finesse the bellend through -- alright, bellend first, handle up. then learning to catch the edge of my pocket as it swings by with minimal motion. then realizing i can just let my hands hang loose, by my sides, in the pockets, and gently have my hand resting on it. in fact, this is pefect; i can just hang my hand down my by my side, rest my hand on the flashlight handle; not even grip it. let the pocket hold it against my hand. then it's very natural to... whoosh! clickclick. i'm shining a flashlight around. then clickclick, whoosh, it's gone. i'm now at the point where i can just drop it into my pocket as gently as my hand would brush into the fabric a little while i walk. that i actually find myself doing reps of this. pulling out my flashlight, turning it on, turning it off, stowing it away again. those are the best reps, when you just do them because it's fun and not because you're chasing after some result |
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i would also say i've noticed... i dunno. i've always had trouble with what to do with my arms and shoulders when i'm walking; in that coat, hiding my arms in the pockets, i suddenly feel able to let them hang loose without getting caught in whatever overthought spiral that is. it's either anxiety, and hiding them makes me feel more comfy, or that the tactile feedback of the fabric gives me additional feedback that helps me settle things. given that finger gloves make me feel oddly secure, i suspect it's the former, but that the latter is also a tad true. |
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it's imminent rain and so I carried my... oh, gosh, the umbrella i was somewhere between six and ten when i discovered you could pinwheel an umbrella around by sliding it onto your wrist and moving it in a certain way [obviously, after making it swing like a pendulum for a bit first; a kind earlier phase of childhood development]. i remember what particularly delighted me... was actually not making the umbrella pinwheel. it was the inner core of it; the sensation and experience of how i had to move my wrist to keep it doing that. i thought: it's like a circle rolling inside a circle. and i was really just consciously focused on that, the sensation of the umbrella strap circling around my wrist vs. how i was moving it. then obviously someone would yell at me "alright that's enough" and i would stop. that i'll also note the only one i ever hit with it was myself; by then i knew enough to step away from other potentially vulnerable humans before doing stuff i felt like everyone would love... but no, i did kind of know what reaction to expect |
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so i actually never really umbrella'd as an adult (raincoat, boots instead), but i got one again a couple years ago and it all came right back. swinging around like a baton is more how it came out, after that long gap. swirl!, grab. stop. wait. repeat wearing finger gloves made it even worse. that i now have something i can tension the umbrella strap on and go wild without risk of rugburn. that, i dunno, the way parenting works is: you tell your kid "alright, that's enough," enough times, and eventually (s)he/it/walrus will grow up and tell themselves "alright, that's enough" and i need to nip this umbrella shit in the bud now; now that it's not hard at all for me to simply let it go; let the umbrella hang loose. but then, what do i do with it there? it doesn't sit right on the edge of the glove; grinding on the top of my wrist. so i move the glove's velcro strap down a tad, and hang it off that. this winds up being perfect, that i can let my arm hang perfectly slack and the umbrella feels a balanced extension of my arm; doesn't move about. |
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the next stage was realizing i could keep the umbrella positioned so the "eject" button was right under my thumb, my [hand, arm, etc] hanging slack but essentially placed just right to grip 'n' deploy in, like, oh, it's happening in a half second or less if the button, grip are right. then -- context, i walk 2-6 miles a day and i have some time to kill on this -- i begin to just goof and fuss with it blind, do it stevie wonder style. by touch. feeling, where's the button. ok, it's over there. let's try moving the string like this [again, by touch, as i am walking]. ok, the button moved that way. it needs to go the other way and at this point, kind of like pulling my pants up, i just kind of "feel" which way i need to tug the string, if it's moved, and do it. i have actually been trying to reverse engineer exactly how the fuck i know from the feel of the string, where the button is |
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then tonight, yes, i need both the umbrella and the flashlight. i'm right-handed; both of these are right-handed mental chewing gum. okay, the umbrella is much harder, so i'm assigning flashlight to left robot claw. i try the pocket stow/retrieve i've gotten down rather well with right robot claw, and fumble, miss, no, not happening. so i grab a bandolier with a carabiner i made for just such a thing, and clip the flashlight on. with right robot claw. then i try to take it off. with left robot claw. fumble. help. how do we i've been here before. i do the motion with my right hand and watch what i'm doing, then very carefully repeat it with the left hand. a few times until i get it; that sense of aphasia each time it fails once that stops happening, i run through doing it by touch a few times, and, okay, that's awkward, but it works. off we go! |
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very quickly, i'm not liking this. i unclip flashlight from the carabiner and put it in left pocket. left robot claw is no good at this; it will simply have to get better. i know it will this is working until i want to smoke a zig and i have no hands left. so, not thinking too hard about it, i shifted umbrella+button from thumb and index to pinky and ringfinger, then held flashlight in thumb and index, allowing me to aim the flashlight and hold the umberlla -- while keeping my arm totally slack; will never tire my arm out. freeing up left robot claw for smoking ops and finally, i have a relevant point: this is how i freaking do my hardware gear, it hit me. i want my cutoff knob exactly there and my LFO going like exactly this, and etc etc because when you're running 14 machines at once you need to depend on things being where you expect them to be. |
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that, bloody hell, this is one of those things i subconsciously did to myself, to teach myself something. the bandolier was a stupid idea, but it forced me to go through the familiar procedure of copying something from one half of my brain to the other. getting a firm central image, pushing through the chiral aphasia, then automating and burying it. then i did what i should have done in the first place; accept left robot claw needs to learn this. then i... like, flashlight and umbrella are both very developed right robot claw bits of software, so it was kind of casual to just shift umbrella to different fingers and run both on the same hand. and that would have been enough, but i fucked around with trying to reverse the bandolier clipping and now i'm doing it to myself all night; using the wrong hand for stuff and making myself brainfart mad hahd |
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i feel like a solid barometer of america's mood is how people act when they drive, adjusted for local habits. my car died over a year ago -- not been worth it financially to get another, just yet -- and so i'm not as tuned in here; just from walking. but i have to say, walking about a year ago, i already felt... it's quite tense, yes... but it's just kept going, and now even a formerly meek and polite robin-egg blue prius is apt to run you over, or threaten to, before slamming on the brakes, because i'm not having it i've just walked onto the crosswalk anyways example: i had a pair of long island ice tease at a bar. i'm walking out, and there's a white prius rolling towards the exit. they see me, and gun it, to keep from having to wait for me walking. never mind that, if they'd just chilled, i'd have been across before they got there, had they not sped up. but they did. and i've kept walking. and they slam on the brakes. all i can see is headlights -- can't tell you what year prius, but it was a few years old -- and the color of the car. but i can just hear, across the psychic airwaves, dfhjgdfghkj you fucker none of this is really necessary and, though i deeply miss driving, shit like this tells me it probably sux now anyways |
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probably the peak example was the lady in the luxury SUV who clearly saw me -- like, sidelock momentary eye contact before she clearly goes, "oh shit" and she rapidly buries herself in looking at oncoming traffic, i'm busy, i'm looking at oncoming traffic, i don't see you so i wait for all this patiently, standing in front of her car, her assuming i'm just waiting for her because, oh, she doesn't see me, i should wait then she starts forward and realizes i'm in front of her car -- she knew it, she just didn't think i'd hold my ground and assumed i'd have moved -- and slams on the brakes. then she does this "oh mercy i am so startled" act. i roll my eyes and walk around behind her car. i didn't care about going first, but i did care about her fucking 'tude. i should note i was carrying 20lb of groceries as i'm waiting for this tart |
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i don't know. i don't really need to win, or to be first -- though i like to be. what really gets me is people just seeing me, thinking, "oh i can just be pushy and rude and get away with it" and then doing so. fair warning, i will ruin your day |
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once you accept how massively slower one moves on foot than cars... yes, i actually feel quite natural being on foot and working with traffic as if i was a car myself. i commuted to the city daily for ages, after being deeply obsessive about driving for years, and, yes, i can basically be a car on foot. but a very slow one, and i have to account for this |
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the thing, where, like, they see you, but they decide to act like they don't in order to push their shit through -- that, well, you're paying attention, so they won't get in an accident if they just are rude and push it -- felt it all the time driving. did it myself. but with other cars, not with freaking pedestrians. sheesh |
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i heard about some new "adaptive" headlite technology on NPR, they're all bullish about it: "Well it's like high beams all the time, and it auto-detects other cars and dims them!" i suppose it is more important for a car to see a pedestrian, but this made me scream inwardly; SUV halogens at eye-level are already blinding without "high beams all the time by default." i can only hope the plan is to make everyone hate cars enough that anyone who drives one is an asshole with halogens all the time; people stop driving them and save the planet but no, standard pantheon is: all pedestrians hate bicyclists, all bicyclists hate cars, and then ditto back the other way down the chain. nothing to do except double down on my "wizard hoodie" which -- i basically tug over my eyes, and i can literally see oncoming halogens through the hood perfectly well... but without being blinded. everyone else walking at night might be a bit miserable tho |
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oh, yes, don't worry about me too much -- when i talk about standing my ground, this is kind of like... i'm just trolling, and i always have an exit plan. i can get out of the way if i have to. but i don't want them to know this. |
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reportedly, ted nelson, inventor of hypertext -- also ADHD, he called it "hummingbird mind" -- reportedly also got fed up with traffic shenanigans as a lad and his solution was thus: to start walking backwards across the road, blind, not looking at all, pure faith, nothing but a wing and a prayer and the cars always came to a screaming halt. i don't have that level of stones... but i could see myself being that stupid when i was 12, yes... |
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reading that, though -- the wired article on xanadu, look it up -- like, yes, here's someone who's even worse than i am, and he invented hypertext. perhaps there's use for me yet |
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> yes, i can basically be a car on foot yeah, this is an odd one. i can be standing at a traffic intersection... i'm sane; this is, say, the end of a one-way street meeting up with a busy two-lane street and i am following the one-way direction of the road and waiting at the intersection precisely as if i would as if i were driving, but instead i'm just standing at the traffic line with a backpack. that i find i am then essentially treated as if i were a car, that i even find myself kind of... imagining, projecting, a car about myself in these moments. but generally i stick to the roads with sidewalks, i annoy people with using the blinky lite crossings -- the one up the street that's instant, not on a timer, i walk special a bit further for that -- it's just that one-way street is a good shortcut and hmm, interesting, i am on foot but i am projecting car and people are treating me as such |
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it's like how carts at the supermarket get like cars; same vibe but much more raw and personal. i have to say it's kind of wild standing at an intersection and being a car. like, i am not two tons of steel, i'm, i dunno, probably like 170lb meatsack at the moment. and here i am, rather naked and vulnerable, communing with cars. just something i did kind of without thinking and it's a bit of a trip |
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people keep telling me i should play poker. i have to admit, i am tempted. that i avoid gambling at all as a rule, but poker, i dunno, perhaps enough math an tactics than it's actually a lot more clean-cut than picking a good sector for engineering in 2022 the engineering part: i could be good at poker. but i will have to lose a certain amount before i will be. and i am not sure how much. and it will have to wait until i am more... flush? i actually don't even remember what the card combos are; full house is that... no, a straight is 1-2-3-4-5? but then once i got oriented i would, probably, be right into peoples' heds like a shale mine. so i'm kind of feeling yes. but later, when i have a moment |
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on the chiral aphasia tip again, handedness i'm having to enter a bunch of digits into web forms with either shitty tab order or no tab order (press tab for next field). so i am repeatedly switching between mouse, typing, and looking over at a notepad to type the next set of numbers in. and i think: this is shit. i hate this. let's try typing with my left hand, mousing with my right, and looking at neither -- instead tacking my gaze between the screen and the paper with the digits. right away i found it... not hard at all, really. especially when my left hand would have usually typed it anyways. however, for stuff right robot claw would do, it pulls me out of my flow and i have to think for a moment how to remap the motion to just left hand. and every time right robot claw just has this stabbing urge to rush in and help -- like, hey, i know this, let me do it -- and i literally have to have somewhat of an internal fight so my right hand doesn't abandon the mouse and do it its darn self and i am recalling the ramachandrian mirror box experiments where, after a corpus callotomy -- or whatever, where they sever the main bridge between left and right hemispheres to help with extreme extreme seizure cases -- and same thing there, one hand would start acting like an alien octopus tentacle and reach around the barrier, actually quite surprising the owner of both hands |
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yes, i'll get back to typing handedness after... was just singing along to "El Camino" by The Black Keys. this is an album, like, i would sing along to this over and over in the car. so i slide back into singing it very easily, so easily it can fool me into thinking i can sing other things this darn well... but, no, it's just the immense time i've put in with this particular album. i felt an odd dichotomy just now. that i'm basically... following my program; learned muscle memory, singing along... and yeah, like with my synths, let's let that run in in the background... and then suddenly it's like... the part of my brain that thinks about articulating words kicks back in up above end sum, a sense of: i'm letting a scripted program run in the background to hit all the right vocal resonances, and i'm distantly aware of it, but i'm really focused on a second thread, which is: thinking about the words, articulating them, putting feeling into them and cool this is exactly like when i'm playing a keyboard part i've memorized with right robot claw while my brain is really running left robot claw to run all the dub shit and droll the rums and etc |
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typing: right-handed, mouse right hand. left robot claw naturally better at one-handed typing. i'm still trying to sort out more elegant ways to use shift, ctrl, etc. but it's... well, still slow, but surprisingly: not frustrating at all. like, ok, this works fine, just needs some refinement but then i try to type with just my right hand, and, shit, this is fucking murder. because that hand usually more mouse what really gets me is trying to spell particular words, depending on which letters you need, i'll actually get a sense of the hand i've experimentally tied behind my back getting pissed like get out of my way, let me do it. and i have some really weird, but actually quite inarguable conclusions, like a lot of my verbal ability lives in my left hand |
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i forgot; i can just write things here |
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so i was given a "GOOGLE NEST HOME MINI" puck as like... a prize, or something, and it's like when grandma gives you an ugly sweater... oh, just but a polite face on it and say thanks very much. which is what i did. then it sat it a box. i obviously googled it, and apparently it can be set up to essentially just pair with random bluetooth stuff, but only after you use the Google Home App with your Google Account to set up Google Assistant and... yeah. it continued to sit in a box. for a laugh, just now, i pulled it out. google nest mini puck unboxing. deep blog shit 1) "Oh, that's actually a nice little USB bri... oh, it's not USB, they've clearly learned their lesson from AOL floppies" 2) i plug it in. lights. this will need a moment to boot, and then it will boop, or something. 3) color lights, the google-styled boop, and... hey, that sounds fucking nice actually 4) it instructs me to use my tablet or phone and something something the app 5) i say, "okay, google, pair with bluetooth" [skipping to the end of the online instructions on a rat fart of a prayer it'll work] 6) it instructs me to use my tablet or phone and something something the app 7) calmly, i repeat myself: "okay, google, pair with bluetooth" 8) the puck then cranks its volume up to the max, yelling at me to something something my tone or phablet the phapp 9) i laugh and unplug the puck. maybe i can just disconnect the speaker and the amp from the brain and put in a phono jack. |
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what cracks me up is that it maxed out the volume and yelled at me after i kept asking for bluetooth, google, bluetooth: shut up or i'll pull this smart home over just utterly no results searching around; possibly takedown notices going on. who knows. then, duckduckgo degenerates into... freaking real estate articles? no, ads. clearly based on my IP's location. because DDG has fucking crap and now they're weaving in that organic ad crap, i guess? it's kind of like, saying "we have six pages of results" and then it stops after page six... you just start mixing in a few crap ads on the tail end of the real results, then it's entirely real estate ads. quite disappoint for all their hot air about transparency. and i did have hope for their android guard app |
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this thread has lost it’s purpose |
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ironically i'm back in it for... shit i wrote when i first cracked it. that typically i'll just rotate around various obsessions and it arguably balances out, but i was in a weird place, and... well, when, despite it being nuts, i began getting results, that did quite whip me up into a frenzy, and it also helped distract me from my dad dying of cancer. i threw everything into it, really, committing in the sense of taking your hands off the wheel and not worrying about going off the rails. eventually what slapped me back down to reality was putting months into it and realizing i still had years to go. but i was thinking about this bit: the answer was my compulsively honed set of note-taking techniques, in a parking lot at 5am. flowcharts, arrows, etc. and it was like i'd taken a huge dump. unburdened. the core of it is there for reference later, in coded symbols that are not the whole deal, but enough that i can work back up to where i was later. L4 was freed up to the point where it began functioning again, and a day or two later i had compiled a very deep and beautiful conclusion using a beowulf cluster of circumstance i built with engineering, my best friend, and a forum that is both broken and interesting. cite ~ i was utterly serious but also totally losing it with giggles. if that makes any sense |
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i also wrote some more manageable descriptions with a bit less giggle, to expand the above into a more palatable morsel: spare glances in this thread -- you know, morbid curiosity -- are subconsciously stored. then i've leaked out all over the other threads, as always, and jokes that grew over there came back here and a derailed aphex twin thread formed the groundwork for a derailed freqy death thread that spawned some other things that led to the stuff, weasels. weasels. weasels. entangled pringles. your reactions influence my reactions. pretty much, in my personal bubble, i have two boards that could handle this thread: riced out yugo, and XLT. riced out yugo allows me to edit posts, and the system began sucking mud. so XLT it was... riced out yugo is thoroughly autistic, but XLT is pretty schizophrenic, and, like lewis and i, it was simply a good fit. being the first person to diagnose a messageboard's consciousness with something out of the DSM is a nice notch in my belt, but it's not what i care about. what i care about is that i have a supercomputer of circumstance, something found moderately tolerable by the angry voice of steve jobs in my mind that demands innovation, elegance, and no bullshit. a) thank you for participating in my supercomputer mermaidman b) dammit, i'm an idiot, i should go reboot the yugo forums |
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i really am back to this because i have a further update to the supercomputer concept: i knew all that was a bit egotistical, but i was having great fun being so silly, and then, i dunno, somehow it worked? now i'm realizing: that's what it all is. all of us chatting to each other, talking to each other chatting about each other, that the collective dialogue taking place across all humans is a supercomputer, and i wasn't building one, i was just learning how to grab a time quantum from one that already existed |
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case in point: i was at some meetup from a thing back when tonight, and i stepped out for a zig. some guy asked if he could borrow my lighter, and never mind i was there for a gathering with other people i wound up talking with him for a half hour. his teeth were bad, and as i was trying to spot my uber later, i am 90% sure i saw him sell some guy drugs. but fuck me, he's not... what you'd expect to that. arguing about whether the wordplay in Shakespeare was subversive or not. then he's tangenting into UK grunge, talking about, how this guy took that and was like, "fuck dactylic hexameter, i'm going to do it rap style" and just, like, what, i'm usually the only one within a two-block radius that's even heard of that farty latin crap. even though he doesn't have it quite right but before all that he started going on about flouride. and, recently, i posted some rant on here -- "that's garbage paranoia from the 60's; someone mixed up flouride with LSD, the old plot to put LSD in the reservoir" -- and, this is who i am: i am just beside myself with joy to try my argument out on someone who's brought the subject up unprompted he doesn't even wait for me to finish that quote; he interrupts -- one of those convos with lots of interrupting but only to speed up the talking -- "oh they did that. hitler put LSD in the water supply once. it didn't go well and they didn't do it again" i paused and thought, and just said honestly: i'm trying to think if the timeline of that even makes sense we let that detail go and move on, joust a bit, and i manage to dredge up two vaguely solid ideas that i will research: 1) sodium calcium something vs. sodium ion, there are different preparations 2) swishing it around your teeth is good, but drinking a lot of it might not be and i'm still leaning towards it being nonsense. but here, yes, the supercomputer heard me, and once i filtered out all the spam, here's my next job, to research this. just my role |
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i am just beside myself with joy to try my argument out on someone who's brought the subject up unprompted ...and, yeah, he has some incredibly expensive hippie filtration system at home because he doesn't want his daughter exposed to flouride. that i was kind of itching for a discussion about it and life sent me a man who is passionate about it [unless he's actually right] to the point of mental illness, who no doubt tries to discuss it with many people any no one plays ball, and life has sent me him, that i'm taking the subject seriously and actually listening. the event i was at was large and no one missed me. they weren't the right crowd for flouride so i didn't mention it, but they did have some other things on tap |
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*sent me to him |
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absolutely none of these are fungible. all i have is dinky manfrotto clamps. the agony, the agony |
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the bullshit how do you categorize them to be under this thread? i’m asking cause i’m really curious |
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what makes them belong in this thread vs another epic thread or vice versa |
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i cannot believe how much of a flaming dumpster barge google search "results" have become. the last decade, oh, like: 1) google is cool 2) google is getting on my nerves but this shit works, sooo 3) okay the broke things 4) okay they changed things 5) i'm trying to use your fucking image search on dec 2, 2022, shotliorderly b4 2, and i've tried like six different flavors of search query, each time getting more like... technical? volumetric capture ...and still google image search is showing you this clown-ass stock image art, i'll hit u -- it's clear you're not. fucking. listening. that my search terms do not matter to you. i'll fucking hold up a piece of paper. take all its monet |
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informational entanglement |
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yeah google has got shittier and shittier, youtube too. internet as a whole has taken a turn for the worst, its normie land now. you have to go offline to escape the very same people you were escaping from when going online in the 90s |
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the internet went back to the 90’s?! |
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i think i started using the internet somewhere in the 2000’s i remember i wanted a porn in a floppy disk from my friend in school |
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i said a porn cause i asked for any porn |
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