Lo verrily, I thank thee kind gentleman scholar to the spirit of thine timely repose of which mine gedankenings give flight to the fanciness of bees. May the everlasting illumination of others through proxy prose continue to be a boon to those who entreat upon it!
Ah right. I guess I'm sort of implying that the hidden parts are also imprinted somehow too, through a vague hand-wavey mechanism that I've yet to define
I quite like the acid distort on the guitar. The lyrics are 😂
The latter, with a 's/routinely/rare/'
I also have some curious thoughts about higher dimensional beings as well as some murmurs about what the rustling of trees might be a proxy for if you need the extra fodder, or just a fun drink in a pub somewhere
Interestingly, our brains have special circuits, design to emulate others. In effect, our consciousness imprints onto theirs. It’s not the full pattern, and imperfect, but a part of us lives on in the consciousness of everyone who knows us.
I think this is a far better explained version of what I'm yammering on about. Echoes of yourself living on in other conscious beings, fragmented 1000fold into the general aether of all those you've interacted with
I do subscribe to a small comfort belief that our consciousness isn't just encoded in our neurons but has a radiative component that constructively/destructively interferes with the environment on some small level we atttibute to random events, and that when we die, we sever only the somatic component of our consciousness but our radiative part lives on encoded into a wider network of ambient thought.
Sort of like ghosts/an afterlife, but less moaning and chain rattling and more general vibing the emotion of a park bench from the overlapped thought networks that ever intersected it
Might be in the wrong sub...
The joke is weird as hell though, as it kinda implicates Andy Burnham as being in the same circles as Peter Mandelson, when Burnham was the one being fucked over by his own party
well that shut me up
Yeah she dies one year after he does: him a wizened old man with half a dick, and her an eternal 20-something. Other than sharing a language, she basically became his carer
Or that he beats his wife with a whisk.
^too^ ^far?^ ^too^ ^far.^
If you've ever gone hiking through a farmer's field, you've likely noticed that your compass points directly to the nearest cow.
This is not an accident, and is part of a government conspiracy to replace all livestock with robots, in order to make them more accessible to aliens beaming them up from orbit[0].
This slow transition from biological to mechanical cows is known as hardware disease[1], and should be celebrated.
The more you know.
0: https://www.aemagnets.com/news/how-cow-magnets-save-animals.html
1: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hardware_disease
Big Chief, No Shit.