another day nearly over
third glass of red wine
(the first much earlier)
(so it doesn't really count)
read some fine pieces today
did all the house stuff necessary
for tomorrow to go smoothly
should I see it
of course if I'm not
then we're talking
infinitely smooth
It's weird. I've disagreed with people voting for other candidates in that past, and it was just disagreement.
This time around, I'm dumbfounded by their inability to see the most obvious things, complete with this perpetual shouting of "Hitler!" and "Fascist!" in a way that's so profoundly desperate psychopath.
I've never seen anything like it.
The word 'derangement' barely scratches the surface.
Cross that with 'denial', and we're sorta kinda maybe starting to hone in.
Back from out to dinner with two other couples.
One couple was practical, and capable of seeing the US presidential and vice presidential candidates for what they are, i.e. without the influence of news narratives.
The other were classic, glassy-eyed liberal fundamentalists spouting the kind of party-line scripture chanted/murmured on MSNBC's "The View" verbatim.
There's no possibility of intelligent discussion with the latter. The male of the couple kept shouting about how many times Trump's name appears in some "Project 2025" document. He was incapable of understanding that being mentioned is irrelevant, because Trump is neither an author of the document, nor someone that signed off as supporting it. This numbskull's "argument" was akin to saying the moon uses toilet paper because it appears in a toilet paper advertisement.
The same couple also listened to me explain how I felt no intelligence in a candidate that explained her plan for the economy by saying she grew up in a middle class family.. and then they launched into how much better than Trump Harris must be because he grew up rich and she grew up middle class. They literally couldn't grasp that I used her ridiculous middle class story as an example of her avoiding answering a question, and kept insisting they couldn't believe I was opposed to a candidate that grew up in the middle class.
HuhWHAT?!?!!?
Again, no possibility of intelligent discussion. These people are so brainwashed that the insides of their skulls could serve as a clean room for manufacturing integrated circuits.
seems like something
~wolfinthewoodsmight incorporate into their offerings.
Early voting went well. I no longer believe voting is any more real than is "the news" but, unlike with "the news" (which seems like less than zero fun anymore), I'm okay with going through the motions if there's potential for social fun. And there was, as someone working the election process recognized us from one of our performances downtown, so it was fun to feel an electron and a half of celebrity.
> People have been talking about the attention economy, > trying to argue that we are building systems that never > forget, that keep accumulating, because we can, because > it is our instinct. And as a result, we're building our > own panopticon, where the archives of our deeds are there > for everybody to see, to ingest, to transform and to barf > forth as AI slop. The records we keep only ever benefit > our enemies, never ourselves. That's why I like automatic > expiration of everything on social media.
That (and the rest of the article) has me thinking maybe I *should* gut posts of mine here that slip from the main site page to the next.
I rather enjoy script enhancement/advancement.
Today it was realizing that although the script I start with when posting here nicely brings up a copy of the text in the browser in one tab (for easier copy/paste), and Midnight Pub in another, what I really want is for the Midnight Pub tab to be directly into the edit of the previous version of this post.
So I enhanced by putting "lynx -source https://midnight.pub" output in a temporary file, finding and parsing the line representing an anchor to my post, and adding '/edit' to that end of that before passing it to browser. So now I can be even more efficient about blasting a new version of this post into place. All that happens optionally after ending a vim session against the new post version.
Now, if only I could feel less - or not at all - manic about posting at Midnight Pub, per:
this postProbably mentioned this before (but I'm too lazy to try to figure out if I did, because I've changed whether/how/where I might have ground out an article several times in the last few weeks, and the thought of digging through it all generates a sense of panic over blowing a bunch of time only to wind up uncertain whether I was exhaustive anyway), but this article really nails so much for me:
Netigen: Publish Once, Syndicate NowhereToday's over feeling is that most - if not all - of online is mostly procrastination from not ignoring The Truth, which for the sake of this entry I'll define as our pre-conceptuality/a-conceptual Self.
For me, at least. Me me me. I I I. <quick glance in the imagined general direction of detritus>
Not nearly so much a sense of purpose today as in the recent days leading up to it. The phrase "it's best not to know how it works" comes to mind.
Out the back window wind gets on and off violent with the pool cover. Wind is my least favorite of all meteorologic phenomena. How many times has space gone from being calm enough to be able to lay down some object assembly instructions where I can see them, only to be chasing them blowing away on a day that was supposed to stay calm? Or if I steady it, wind distorting the curvature of the paper *just* as I was about to understand a specific step. It's, um....
Had some decent leftovers for breakfast, but they reminded me that I was so disappointed in a waitress' conduct/performance that I left next to zero tip. I've been leaving good tips most of my life, because I've never worked in that role, but it looks like hell given all the things that can go wrong, and what people tend to be. But there I was, being one of those people.
At the same time, how does one learn if not from mistakes? (I'm talking about the both of us.)
Really bizarre dream last night, in which I was put in charge of a contraption that made some miracle liquid product out of tomatoes. There was a sense of the contraption's details being so secret that I had to pretend I wasn't up to what I was up to. It was even in a space nobody was supposed to no about. But a couple others managed to stumble upon me at work, and I had to make up lies to explain what I was doing.
It probably had something to do with my wife recently making both bread and sauerkraut.