You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
I used to love laundromats as a kid
It's been a while though since we have a washer and dryer at home now, even in the smaller house
When I applied my mind to know wisdom and to observe the labor that is done on earth—people getting no sleep day or night—then I saw all that God has done. No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all their efforts to search it out, no one can discover its meaning. Even if the wise claim they know, they cannot really comprehend it.
That was half a decent point half a blindingly stupid one, and as annoying as it was, I couldn't help also being annoyed by the people who responded to the reasonable half- that Undertale was being used as a barometer for whether or not someone was in touch- by calling him out of touch for not liking Undertale
I dunno, I always thought that was an interesting take on it.
I mean, I respect him for being honest about his perspective but "It fails to perform the proper obeisances" is just a terrible thing to say regardless
I don't think that being uncomfortable with something because it reveals all the weaknesses and unsettling implications in something that you hold dear despite respecting its power and thoroughness is at all stupid or unreasonable.
^^^ I took that as meant with a certain degree of irony: A personal emotional truth worded somewhat pretentiously to expose its pretences.
I don't think that being uncomfortable with something because it reveals all the weaknesses and unsettling implications in something that you hold dear despite respecting its power and thoroughness is at all stupid or unreasonable.
^^^ I took that as meant with a certain degree of irony: A personal emotinal truth worded somewhat pretentiously to expose its pretences.
Neal Stephenson was my favorite author for a very long time, and The Diamond Age remains my favorite book, even if I can’t read any of his newer books with so much as an approximation of enjoyment.
I should emphasize that when I say “newer books,” some of these books are by now quite old: I loved the original Cryptonomicon, but every book past that has been torment. I choked down Anathem from about the half-way point, jaw set, lower teeth pressed hard against the upper, determined not to be defeated. He’d already gotten my money, but I was determined not to lose my honor.
The difference between Neal Stephenson and China Miéville for me is that I never liked the latter, even though I’m supposed to; even though it is simply an accepted fact that people of any cognition whatsoever are turning each page with a shaking hand, ready to receive his next sacred revelation. I own every one of his books, each time thinking this will be the one until his unique ocular drill begins to whir and I must hurl the book across the room or be blinded. This may be the first time you have read on a website that China Miéville is something less than a God; I’ve certainly never seen it typed, which was reason enough to do it.
In trying to understand what it was precisely I found so intolerable, I recalled a song called “Fit But You Know It” by The Streets. Being smart, or beautiful, or strong, or confident, or epitomizing any other virtue is whatever. But you can push these things, you can grind them into another person, and we have social censure for this kind of behavior. His writing is incredibly smug. I can feel him leering at me through his typewriter, shoulders up, breathing hard. That’s when I stand up, walk over to the bookshelf, and place it with the others. No way. We have no shared history; I’m not going to bore through one of these things out of deference to some prior affection. I don’t owe him shit.
Apparently he has a book where there are two cities and they, like, overlap. That’s what I heard anyway, and if someone else had written it maybe that would matter.
I clicked on the Diablo installer there on my desktop, in the errant way one might pick at a scab; there was no expectation of profit or, indeed, any recognition that I had done so. I was surprised to hear those ancient tones, and then to have it install in its entirety, only to drop me off at a login screen which is not hooked up to anything. So, if you were wondering if there was a plane of anguish more pure than the previous one, the answer is yes.
Penny Arcade is built on the premise that writing a webcomic about something makes you an expert in it, and subsequently, makes you an expert in all things.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Surgery is fascinating
Like, my mother broke her ankle in 2012 and the surgeon just screwed the bone back together like a piece of carpentry
It's impressive that there are people who looked at injured human bodies and thought "get me some tools, I think I can fix this"
i mean, some surgeries are ancient, but like anything involving the inside of the torso is maybe two hundred years old at most, and probably more like fifty
Sometimes I've had the thought that hospitals are basically big repair centers where humans are disassembled and reassembled, adjusted and improved like machinery. It's weird
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Comments
that's my noodle story
^^^ I took that as meant with a certain degree of irony: A personal emotional truth worded somewhat pretentiously to expose its pretences.
This sounds very dimly familiar.
Neal Stephenson was my favorite author for a very long time, and The Diamond Age remains my favorite book, even if I can’t read any of his newer books with so much as an approximation of enjoyment.
I should emphasize that when I say “newer books,” some of these books are by now quite old: I loved the original Cryptonomicon, but every book past that has been torment. I choked down Anathem from about the half-way point, jaw set, lower teeth pressed hard against the upper, determined not to be defeated. He’d already gotten my money, but I was determined not to lose my honor.
The difference between Neal Stephenson and China Miéville for me is that I never liked the latter, even though I’m supposed to; even though it is simply an accepted fact that people of any cognition whatsoever are turning each page with a shaking hand, ready to receive his next sacred revelation. I own every one of his books, each time thinking this will be the one until his unique ocular drill begins to whir and I must hurl the book across the room or be blinded. This may be the first time you have read on a website that China Miéville is something less than a God; I’ve certainly never seen it typed, which was reason enough to do it.
In trying to understand what it was precisely I found so intolerable, I recalled a song called “Fit But You Know It” by The Streets. Being smart, or beautiful, or strong, or confident, or epitomizing any other virtue is whatever. But you can push these things, you can grind them into another person, and we have social censure for this kind of behavior. His writing is incredibly smug. I can feel him leering at me through his typewriter, shoulders up, breathing hard. That’s when I stand up, walk over to the bookshelf, and place it with the others. No way. We have no shared history; I’m not going to bore through one of these things out of deference to some prior affection. I don’t owe him shit.
Apparently he has a book where there are two cities and they, like, overlap. That’s what I heard anyway, and if someone else had written it maybe that would matter.
I clicked on the Diablo installer there on my desktop, in the errant way one might pick at a scab; there was no expectation of profit or, indeed, any recognition that I had done so. I was surprised to hear those ancient tones, and then to have it install in its entirety, only to drop me off at a login screen which is not hooked up to anything. So, if you were wondering if there was a plane of anguish more pure than the previous one, the answer is yes.
anyway, here's Scott Adams getting owned by Bill Kristol
i mean, some surgeries are ancient, but like anything involving the inside of the torso is maybe two hundred years old at most, and probably more like fifty