I just realized that statement might make it look like I killed someone, I am just clearing this up right now, that I am not directly responsible for killing anyone.
Probably, but unfortunately I doubt that Romain Du Roi is a system font on any operating system. We wouldn't be able to use it without buying a wicked expensive typeface license, not to mention it doesn't appear to have ever been digitized.
If we had someone around here who could use FontForge well enough, then we might be able to do custom fonts someday. It's open source, though, so you can play around with it without upsetting Adobe or Autodesk or whoever.
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
(Also, if you can think of fonts that are free to use and useful, we can add them to the menu and make them available to everyone with a modern browser using CSS3. Just a thought!)
(Also, if you can think of fonts that are free to use and useful, we can add them to the menu and make them available to everyone with a modern browser using CSS3. Just a thought!)
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
Funny, a long time ago I toyed with the idea of making Open Sans the default because, unlike the default Lucida Sans Unicode, it has proper italics.
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
Naney your deadpan responses to Anonymous Avenue's nonsense are quite amusing at times
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
The ionosphere is a region of the upper atmosphere, from about 85 km (53 mi) to 600 km (370 mi) altitude, and includes the thermosphere and parts of the mesosphere andexosphere.
Because she is mute,” Walter Benjamin tells us in his early essay, ‘On Language as Such and the Language of Man’, “nature mourns.” ‘Human language’, according to Benjamin, is distinct from the ‘divine language’ (which for the early Benjamin as good as literally existed before the Biblical fall) insofar as it does not directly map onto its objects. The language of man is, on the picture Benjamin draws in his essay, unable to satisfactorily ‘speak’ what is outside it: the conceptual, as it were, is no longer able to capture in an adequate way, its object: the non-conceptual. Non-human nature can only be ‘overnamed’, and subdued: this is why it falls silent. It in part falls silent because it mourns, and it also mourns, which is why it must be silent…
The Pokemon, then, would look, on Benjamin’s picture, to be the very model of reconciled nature. The language of the Pokemon is precisely modelled along the lines of the divine language: the Pokemon can only speak its own name, can only speak its essence. There is absolutely no mistaking a Pikachu; if it was not a Pikachu, it would not say “Pika-chu.”
But then if we look at the Pokemon like that, then it becomes very easy to forget that they are, precisely, commodities. “Gotta catch ‘em all,” goes the injunction of the game, and that means one and one alone of each, regardless of scarcity. The Pokemon is a commodity, like all postlapsarian nature, only good insofar as it can be captured and dominated, and repurposed as something useful (in the case of the Pokemon, as a fighting machine).
As Benjamin also tells us in his essay: “it is a metaphysical truth that all nature would begin to lament if it were endowed with language.” So too with the Pokemon’s cry. The Pokemon of course appears to be able to speak its name as its name. It is all it can speak, and this is its essence, so to the uncritical eye it appears to be reconciled. But this essence is in fact mere appearance. What the Pokemon is actually able to speak, if it is able to speak at all, is whatever name it has been given, as identical with its suffering, its domination.
All false identity, all reconciliation in the false world, is a stifled scream. “Pikachu, you’re my Pokemon!” is in truth the vicious call of the slave-driver, or perhaps of an abusive lover. Insofar as we live in human time and not Messianic, every idea that anything, ourselves included, might be identified with some one concept which can then be shunted out of the play of critical rationality, will only result in the same sort of unfreedom that the Pokemon find themselves in. Every time you feel at home with yourself, always ask: just who exactly, is collecting me?
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
Speaking of Way-back machines. No quote button, what a terrible way to live.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Much like corpses I suppose.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
ｷｪｪｪｪｪｪｱｧｧｧｧｧｧｼｬｧﾍﾞｯﾀｧｧｧｧｧｧｧ!!!
I just licked my arm and it was salty.
I am at a Burger King.
I was more asking if it was from the new series or the shorts they aired between shows about a year ago.What sort of people don't even have very many fonts on a forum full of anoraks?
Also, don't admins have all sorts of messing-with-stuff and changing the site and writing the codes and stuff powers?
Sorry Aliroz.
It's so beautiful.
Because she is mute,” Walter Benjamin tells us in his early essay, ‘On Language as Such and the Language of Man’, “nature mourns.” ‘Human language’, according to Benjamin, is distinct from the ‘divine language’ (which for the early Benjamin as good as literally existed before the Biblical fall) insofar as it does not directly map onto its objects. The language of man is, on the picture Benjamin draws in his essay, unable to satisfactorily ‘speak’ what is outside it: the conceptual, as it were, is no longer able to capture in an adequate way, its object: the non-conceptual. Non-human nature can only be ‘overnamed’, and subdued: this is why it falls silent. It in part falls silent because it mourns, and it also mourns, which is why it must be silent…
The Pokemon, then, would look, on Benjamin’s picture, to be the very model of reconciled nature. The language of the Pokemon is precisely modelled along the lines of the divine language: the Pokemon can only speak its own name, can only speak its essence. There is absolutely no mistaking a Pikachu; if it was not a Pikachu, it would not say “Pika-chu.”
But then if we look at the Pokemon like that, then it becomes very easy to forget that they are, precisely, commodities. “Gotta catch ‘em all,” goes the injunction of the game, and that means one and one alone of each, regardless of scarcity. The Pokemon is a commodity, like all postlapsarian nature, only good insofar as it can be captured and dominated, and repurposed as something useful (in the case of the Pokemon, as a fighting machine).
As Benjamin also tells us in his essay: “it is a metaphysical truth that all nature would begin to lament if it were endowed with language.” So too with the Pokemon’s cry. The Pokemon of course appears to be able to speak its name as its name. It is all it can speak, and this is its essence, so to the uncritical eye it appears to be reconciled. But this essence is in fact mere appearance. What the Pokemon is actually able to speak, if it is able to speak at all, is whatever name it has been given, as identical with its suffering, its domination.
All false identity, all reconciliation in the false world, is a stifled scream. “Pikachu, you’re my Pokemon!” is in truth the vicious call of the slave-driver, or perhaps of an abusive lover. Insofar as we live in human time and not Messianic, every idea that anything, ourselves included, might be identified with some one concept which can then be shunted out of the play of critical rationality, will only result in the same sort of unfreedom that the Pokemon find themselves in. Every time you feel at home with yourself, always ask: just who exactly, is collecting me?