[HT: Glen Reynolds at Instapundit]
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
Gerard Van der Leun
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Yeah, that.
Only the beginning. Re: Drudge headline right now. Google total data collection (manipulation).
Learn it. Love it. Live it.
(Learn it. Love it. Live it.)
Leave it.
Just like the TV, the internet is making itself unworthy.
I have 5 computers sitting right here and the only one worth a dam is a 12 year old desktop with XP on it. And it’s not “connected” to anything else. The rest are barely functional. They work fine, but even their best is still minimal. sigh
I think I was more functional with the Commodore I bought in 1983.
35 years later this top of the line Win 10 machine is a mere toy in comparison.
The end is getting closer.
Ghost, I figured out the direction computers need to take, but it’s a functional and sales approach. My fault is that I’m not a computer engineer or a geek.
Instead of making them less functional over time, they need to make them more valuable and functional as time progresses. I sense they want this, with apps that add functionality, and the cloud (WTFTI), or the internet, to hold the data. If I find that I love my phone, smart, 1 each, ore and more over the years, I may just desire the daylights out of a more spiffy one in about 3-6 years (more like 7 for me). As it is, I grudgingly spit through my teeth and wonder why these devices devolve, 404, and ebb to a stop after 3 years.
My 10 year-old Toshiba does a fine job, too. It couldn’t carry the load of this big MACiavellian behemoth on my desktop, but it does do fairly nicely in its place.
The pimply-faced kids at the brain-centers, the puzzle palaces of the gods, have their own ideas. Do not miss the new report on Drudge. Let’s see, here is the link. This’ll scare the shit out of you.
https://www.theverge.com/2018/5/17/17344250/google-x-selfish-ledger-video-data-privacy
Or, they could just put a clock in there, where your computer gets really great for about 2 years, and then catches fire suddenly.
What I see with my eyes belongs to me, what I see with my phone belongs to everybody.
They collect parts 1,3,5,7,9 and automatically fill in parts 2,4,6,8,0 like so much drywall mud.
Soon, there is nothing but mud, no other substrait necessary, until pressure is applied, and the whole thing collapses.
Like large gov’t, large companies will collapse under their own weight in time.
The young father kneels down in front of his wailing daughter as they leave the toy store, “You can’t have everything Honey, where would you put it?”
“It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it.”