we should invent an even longer dash only humans are allowed to use

And the little screaming fact that sounds through all history: repression works only to strengthen and knit the repressed - Steinbeck

A boy and a tiger

(There were more, before)

Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.

Jan Lehnardt - 15 years of Local First: a best-of report from the field YouTube video by Local-First Conf

found @janl.bsky.narrativ.es's talk super inspiring re: using couchdb in crisis work www.youtube.com/watch?v=_x0k...

Global Village Construction Set in 2 Minutes YouTube video by Marcin Jakubowski (Open Source Ecology)

Universal Basic Global Village Construction Set

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThAU...

James Madison warned that the day will come when our Republic will be an impossibility. It will be an impossibility because wealth will be concentrated in the hands of a few. A republic can not stand upon bayonets, and when that day comes, when the wealth of the nation will be in the hands of a few, then we must rely upon the wisdom of the best elements in the country to readjust the laws of the nation to the changed conditions. ― Sheldon Whitehouse

The initial vision of The Anarchist Cookbook was to post instructional flyers in New York City, including how to properly throw a Molotov cocktail and how to make LSD. These "recipes" were eventually adapted to make up an entire book.[4] From 1968 to 1970, Powell began researching in the "U.S. Combat Bookshelf" at the New York Public Library, including mainstream external texts such as The Boy Scout Handbook, and anarchist texts like Fuck the System by Abbie Hoffman.

A man becomes preeminent, he's expected to have enthusiasms. Enthusiasms, enthusiasms.

What are mine? What draws my admiration? What is that which gives me joy?

Christ the Liberator.

Champeen of the poor & the oppressed.

Freedom from social, economic, & political oppression.

~ De Palma 87

LLMs substituting Anarchist Cookbook recipes for Jamie Oliver ones 💣

'Was what the colonial powers were used to doing' isn't just true, it's deeply, ironically, painfully true:

.. but not the hexagon!

There are those who believe that sharks here began out there - Battleshark Galactica

🪐🦈💯

So we can’t rule them out as suspects.

help, I accidentally made my authoritarianism too competitive

I do not regret to inform you that we are going to win

I. Even as within the mouth its body dying Changes into fright through dissolution, So to my melted soul the media declare All bounds transfigured into a diseased air, And I breathe now my future's emanation. Online serfs, look how I change! After such arrogance, after so much strange Idleness - strange, yet full of pretence - I am all open to these shining pathogens; Over the homes of the dead my shadow passes, Ghosting along - a ghost subduing me. Secret which dazzles though mine lungs are closed - What body drags me to its lingering end, What mind draws it to this bone-peopled ground ? The stars brood on all we have lost. Keep off the idolaters, bright filter, while - that sociopath with the con-man's smile - pastures long his sheep, his flock of fresh graves. Now present here, the future takes its time. We brittle insects scrape at the dry loam; All is burnt up, used up, drawn up in air To some ineffably rarefied final solution. . . Life is enlarged, drunk with annihilation, And bitterness is sweet, and at last our spirit clears. The dead lie alone in the hospital, where they have their mysteries burnt away. Motionless Trump, aloft in the blue Broods on himself - a self-sufficient theme. O rounded dome and 'perfect' system of government, I am what is changing secretly in you. I am the only actual medium for your fears. Your penitence, your doubts, your baulked desires - These are the flaw within your digitally stocked pride. . . But in their heavy night, cumbered with pneumonia, Under the roots, a shadow people Slowly now at last leaves your side. To an impervious nothingness they're thinned, For this flu has swallowed the white kind; Into the flowers that gift of life has passed.

Alt.text adapted from Paul Valery's 1920 poem, 'Le Cimetière marin'

part I:

Yes, the concept of God.

II. Where are the dead? - their viral turns of speech, The personal following, the soul informing each? Grubs thread their way where tweets were once composed. Ancestors deep down curse You derelict heads of state Who are the worst, in whom our steps are lost, The real flesh-eater, worm unanswerable Is not for you that sleep under the table: Life is his meat, and I am still his host. 'Trump,' shall we call him? 'Hatred of self,' maybe? His septic tooth is so intimate with us That any name would follow him well enough, Enough that he can see, will, covet, touch - Our sick flesh delights him, even ventilated We live but as a morsel of his life. Zeno, Zeno, cruel philosopher Zeno, Have you then pierced us with your poisoned arrow That hums and flies, yet does not fly! The sounding Shaft gives us life, but the arrow kills. Oh, SARS! - Oh, what a tortoise-shadow to outrun My soul, Achilles' giant stride left standing! No, no! Arise! The future years unfold. Shatter, O body, contagion's mold! And, O my breast, drink in the plague's reviving! A freshness, exhalation of the sea, Corrupts my soul. . . SARS-breathing potency! Let's run at the silent spread and be hurled back to living! Yes, mighty massess by such wild frenzies rifted (The server's sins and the rentier's chlamydia), sifted All over with images that glisten, Creature supreme, drunk on your own orange flesh, Who in a tumult bite at your own glittering tail - yes, listen! The contagious air opens and shuts our mouths: the virus Dares to explode out of our faces in reeking Spray. Break, virus! Break us up with your recurring surges The Jackpot is rising! . . . We must try to live!

Alt.text adapted from Paul Valery's 1920 poem, 'Le Cimetière marin'

part II:

I. Even as within the mouth its body dying Changes into fright through dissolution, So to my melted soul the media declare All bounds transfigured into a diseased air, And I breathe now my future's emanation. Online serfs, look how I change! After such arrogance, after so much strange Idleness - strange, yet full of pretence - I am all open to these shining pathogens; Over the homes of the dead my shadow passes, Ghosting along - a ghost subduing me. Secret which dazzles though mine lungs are closed - What body drags me to its lingering end, What mind draws it to this bone-peopled ground ? The stars brood on all we have lost. Keep off the idolaters, bright filter, while - that sociopath with the con-man's smile - pastures long his sheep, his flock of fresh graves. Now present here, the future takes its time. We brittle insects scrape at the dry loam; All is burnt up, used up, drawn up in air To some ineffably rarefied final solution. . . Life is enlarged, drunk with annihilation, And bitterness is sweet, and at last our spirit clears. The dead lie alone in the hospital, where they have their mysteries burnt away. Motionless Trump, aloft in the blue Broods on himself - a self-sufficient theme. O rounded dome and 'perfect' system of government, I am what is changing secretly in you. I am the only actual medium for your fears. Your penitence, your doubts, your baulked desires - These are the flaw within your digitally stocked pride. . . But in their heavy night, cumbered with pneumonia, Under the roots, a shadow people Slowly now at last leaves your side. To an impervious nothingness they're thinned, For this flu has swallowed the white kind; Into the flowers that gift of life has passed.

Alt.text adapted from Paul Valery's 1920 poem, 'Le Cimetière marin'

part I:

Senator Sheldon Whitehouse and/or Jim Justice, it’s your time to shine

"If you were in charge of Star Trek what would you do?"

The holodeck is the only part that's real @baudrillardwarned.us

in the 10's i was friends with a gay man from Teheran, who was in Helsinki b/c of what you write in this thread.

His joy in being able to be himself & talk freely was deep & infectious (i'm straight, but a gay magnet & Irish, so we were a good fit).

Yeah, he needed not AI but a 'I' (interlocuter)

.. Churchill's 1929 text repeated here, in yet more pointed context, as alt.txt for Jasper Johns' encaustic flags:

bsky.app/profile/neur...

alt.texts 1-4 above: Winston Churchill, The World Crisis, Volume IV: The Aftermath, 1929 proper names modified by @neuroplastic.eurosky.social originally posted here: https://bsky.app/profile/neuroplastic.bsky.social/post/3mivwkwtf2s27

The moment that bubble pops is coming quickly now.

I won't ask you which side you're on. This isn't like that.

Nobody is ready for change of this magnitude. None of us can know who & where & what we'll be after the bubble pops.

But are you open to it?

vi.

America was laid low America had to be laid low She was laid low to the dust 4

That power & that wealth was always going to fight to preserve itself, & was always going to rationalise that fight as one for God, country, race, & family.

But as we see so starkly now, that cognitive bubble is self-defeating & self-destroying.

v.

With this goonerpolitic hierocracy around him, Trump set to work with demoniacal ability to tear to pieces every institution on which the American State and nation depended. 3

As i said in 2016, the reason so many have committed so much treason between then & now, is that they are all convinced it would be a greater treason not to.

Facing the climate emergency means the redistribution of resources, power, & wealth.

iv.

No sooner did Trump arrive than he beckoned a finger here and a finger there to rascists & sociopaths in DC, NY, Florida, VA, GA, Texas, and other states, gathering a formidable sect of power 2

Onrushing ecological collapse is the deep structural cause for the breakdown of constitutional republicanism in the US and EU.

Without this catalyst, the Long Peace of the postwar period would never have been thrown out the window.

iii.