inquiry

whatever comes to mind

The following is a fantastic example of why I tend to think Americans of the so-called “liberal” persuasion easily tend toward being complete idiots of near infinite blindness:

Title of article I chanced upon:

I Wanted to Know What White Men Thought About Their Privilege. So I Asked.

Accompanying article summary:

The author teaches a college class about what it means to be white in America, but interrogating that question as a black woman in the real world is much harder to do, she writes.

My issue is that back in the 1970s I slowly started becoming enlightened about race and gender, which to me means no longer attributing aspects of character/personhood to skin color and/or gonads.

And I made it. By 1985 I was living with guys not-my-skin-color, and by 1987 had married a woman not-my-race.

So what happens?

Along comes the so-called “aughts”, during which time being “woke” seems to mean being so obsessed with race and/or gender that one cannot speak of another person without prefixing the word 'person' with either a word indicating skin color, or a word indicating gender... and not just as a fact pertaining to their skin color and/or gonad specifics, but as though it necessarily says something about their person/character.

So, until that ridiculous fucking nonsense stops, um, HELLO DONALD....

I mean, both the title and the summary contain multiple examples of what I'm referring to. But probably the most glaring is “what it means to be white”.

Oh? “White” is a state being? I.e. “whiteness” of skin somehow sinks to the depths of person/self-hood, and is thus a meaningful determining factor?

Wake the goddamned motherfuck up so we can all start interacting with people, not different skin-colored and/or gendered people, because that shit's got nothing to do with their personhood... and I'm tired of hearing people pontificate long and self-righteously hard about the need to awaken along those lines, yet their language clearly belies the fact that down deep they still believe skin color and/or gender matters.......

Would that it were as simple as “finding the right person”.

How is that even possible given members of this species seemingly lie more than they truth?

And, of course, the latter always comes first curiously leaking, next annoyingly gushing, next panic-strickenly hemorrhaging – and I be talking about a truth that's not merely inconvenient, but white light painfully I'd-have-done-everything-differently-had-I-known-before-separating-became-painfully-complicated.

All of which, of course, begs for return to the genuine here/now, to the absence of identification with a mere thought/re-presentation of “thing in itself”.

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyep.

So nice to see Mia is back!

Kind of a crazy day, for it starting off in an odd psychedelic zone due to my having two THC gummies (of a type I've never had before) when – according to hindsight – one would have been plenty. Awoke about seven hours after falling asleep to amazing visuals, back-to-back lengthy dreams while trying to snooze-button my way into work, and a general sense that whoever I was the day before no longer existed (if they ever did – iykwim).

But work slowly encouraged the THC mussels clinging to the underside of my consciousness to loosen their mind-altering grip, and by noon I was pretty sure of who I was again.

Funny to be reading about PGP inadequacies.

The problem is?

Oh, here's what it is: PGP needs to means “Pretty Good Parenting”.

That is, the kind of parenting that leads to there not being a need for Pretty Good Privacy.

And BINGO was his name, oh.

In other words, solve the actual problem, dumbasses.

When it comes right down to it, I just plain love typing.

It could go into a file.

But in that zone I can't escape the thought it represents zero hope of interacting with interesting others.

write.as is just slightly above that.

In that sense write.as is a glorified file system.

May as well be entitling these as I would file names.

How does my-latest-thoughts-going-nowhere.txt sound?

From that point of view, this place got nothing on the good 'ole Craigslist “platonic” forums that were crucified on some political altar whose details I can no longer remember.

If you type a post in the write.as “textarea”, it requires the navigation of arrow keys and/or mouse clicks/gestures. So I type mine in a vim session to save time and effort. And today, in my hjkl-est move yet, I didn't even bother spell checking (”:set spell” command in vim). I input the rest of my text, Esc-keyed into command mode, then simply picked up the text with a left-click-hold-and-drag copy, a Ctrl-9 jump to the write.as tab, a Ctrl-V paste, and left the write.as session.

It's funny how far the simplest interfaces go to incentivize people to do the unix thing.

CJ Eller's “Hyperlexia” ruminated thusly:

So we have to ask ourselves how to remember what we read here on the web – how to retain what is beneficial and use it in our study and in our lives. I wonder if we even realize what we are missing out on. The only thing that gets measured is how much new content gets published on the web every day. But do we know how much of that potential energy is wasted on taxed minds who will forget what they read moments after?

There has to be a better way.

I'm pretty sure we can count on survival-of-the-read-and-retained-what-was-most-important-to-survival-if-not-fullness-of-life to separate the Wheat Readers (e.g. of “enlightened essay(s)”) from the Chaff Readers (e.g. of “inane social media status”) over time.

(Of course, the latter will label the former “privileged” – probably including additional already broken-record adjectives pertaining to race and/or gender in the same breath (and people running as Democratic Party candidates for office in the United States will undoubtedly lead the charge to see who is the most clever at inventing the best such labels while “protesting” said “privileged”...))

Dang it, this is hitting a bit too close to selfhood home....

I'll try to find mild comfort in imagining that knowing it is arguably a good first step toward correcting it.

Me gots to say that, for my typing dollar, email still beats the fuck out of blogging.

So what's the thrill here? That after typing for a while and clicking the right-arrow-looking-ish “Publish” button those words appear elsewhere?

But... I've been able to do that with an index.html file for.. umm... decades?

So, in other words, it's pretty much the same as it's always been but for the front-end aspect of it making it possible for people that can't figure out html syntax – oh, and maybe just a couple teeny weeny niggling little details.. – to participate?

Bold question that'll likely cause the planet to wobble off its axis, complete with accusations of racism, sexism, et. al. (because Deity knows we've all got to pretend we're all equal despite glaring evidence to the contrary, or face the fate worse than death also known as herd shunning): but maybe that syntax is the equivalent of a Darwinian intelligence hurdle/filter whose absence is what helped (d?)evolve the internet from a place where smart people figured out how to interact, to a place where any idiot can display their idiocy to the disconcerting annoyance of too many others?

Hmmm.

Anyway.. fortunately I don't have to worry about ever reading any answers to that, as We Just Don't Do That Here.

Oh, boy.

Far too little sleep last night.

Interest in work hovering on and around zero.

Holy shit there are a lot of insects in the air. The position and angle of the sun in the sky is somehow revealing that in a bigger than usual way. That, or I'm just paying more/better attention.

And I'm super hungry.

No, not for insects.

I heard of Indieweb for the first time this morning.

Partner is snoring away in the next room. Me, super jealous. No idea how I got out of bed. But I managed, and logged into work like it was any other day. But the idea of trusting changes I might make to code today is laughable.