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We are a community for software developers. Leave the egos at the door.
Actually, when you think about it.
What's not old (Principle wise)?
Say less than ten or even twenty years old? (Excluding quantum computing which I consider to be a whole new technology and also something I have problems grasping)
Your self-hobbling insistence on records and the fictions of an easy series of yes no real unreal true false pleasant little lies you tell yourself to try to keep your footing as everything shifts underneath your feet until the only thing left standing is the place where you once stood. What is it? Vanity?
You're invested. You believe the myth, while pretending to scoff at myth. And starve as
When we come for you, you'll be hungry.
And so will we.
Your notion of an objective realness, and an essential trueness is spat on by the simple subordination of the complicated and brittle to the organism of truth - the complexness and vastness of the possible.
I'm invested in divesting you, and slashing your mores, instead of your wrists, and those scars brother, your sleeves don't hide them well.
When we come for you, we'll be burning.
And so will you
(i need a copy editor)
When I was growin' up, I was the smartest kid I knew. Maybe that was just because I didn't know that many kids. All I know is now I feel the opposite.
I knew Bukowski vaguely back in my beatnik-wanna-be daze in NYC's lower east side in 1962. I say vaguely because you didn't meet Bukowski, he ran over you on his way fast to wherever his demons were taking him. Really an ugly person compared to Ginsburg, di Prima, Corso, Ferlinghetti, Rexroth, Patchen, and others in that scene.
«One day it will have to be officially admitted that what we have christened reality is an even greater illusion than the world of dreams.» Salvador Dali