With asterisks

kairosclerosis n. the moment you look around and realize that you’re currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart, and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it’s little more than an aftertaste. Ancient Greek καιρός (kairos), a sublime or opportune moment + σκλήρωσις (sklḗrōsis), hardening. Pronounced “kahy-roh-skluh-roh-sis.”

A lot of fiction I write is about limerance so it's always nice to see others perspective on it.

Watch with captions

To understand its strengths and limitations, we may need to adopt a new perspective.

The annals of AI is basically 90% of how I keep up with AI news. And pls font make an anal joke. We're better than that (no we're not).

For decades, the organization has maintained a system that protects everything from Ukrainian borscht to Jamaican reggae. But what does it mean to “safeguard” living culture?

Learned helplessness occurs when an individual continuously faces a negative, uncontrollable situation and stops trying to change their circumstances, even when they have the ability to do so. For example, a smoker may repeatedly try and fail to quit. He may grow frustrated and come to believe that nothing he does will help, and therefore he stops trying altogether. The perception that one cannot control the situation essentially elicits a passive response to the harm that is occurring.

There's more golf courses than mcdonalds in america. WHAT

At some point I'll just have to make a bob dylan megapost.

Sorry about dump posting so much in an hour.

Keep in mind this is from 2016 as you read this.

On the bridge’s parapet

The heads of the hanged

In the flowing rivulet

The spittle of the hanged.

On the cobbles in the market-places

The fingernails of those lined up and shot

On the dry grass in the open spaces

The broken teeth of those lined up and shot.

Biting the air, biting the stones

Our flesh is no longer human

Biting the air, biting the stones

Our hearts are no longer human.

But we have read into the eyes of the dead

And shall bring freedom on the earth

But clenched tight in the fists of the dead

Lies the justice to be served.

—poem by Franco Fortini, translated by Stephen Sartarelli

Maybe this isn't for everyone but I'm a fan of Umberto Eco and wanna recommend this.