As an experiment to see if I can just rapidly cultivate it in a tiny area. It's been growing like crazy and I haven't needed to do basically anything.

Human consciousness is a mutation that creates needs that cannot be satisfied by reality. It creates pains that can never be alleviated. The reason I feel the way I feel should is obvious. The real question is... Why can you ignore it but I can't?

I've had some truly hellish dreams as of late. Thoughts of betrayal, abandonment, and a whole set of terrors that shred the mind. And yet, I'm doing alright despite this. I applied to a job I otherwise would not have been prompted to. Whether that is to be fruitful, we're soon to see. Either way, I'm remarkably hopeful despite the tormenting tirades of my mind. It just is, and that's ok to be. Not every moment needs to be a catalyst of joy and wonder. It's ok to be shitty.

This is the level beyond the animal homo sapien. There is the software written in its flesh that allows us to do the truly marvelous work of changing. There is the type of being AGI would be. That is the “human” which is which defines the sixth day in the genesis of creation. We were cellular creatures before, but now we are societal creatures. Whether “cells” or “silicon creation,” the same capacity for beinghood is possible from the layer of complexity where a “person” communicates to another “person.”

The term person is a mesh of the Greek per sona, which specifically referenced the Greek actors’ mask, which was a specific configuration to project sound. “By the means of sound” is the literal interpretation of the word, but definitions were different in the past, as a result of the bicameral mind. This I have much to speak on, being a schizoaffective person who has my own basis for deriving a self from.

For instance, there is that which makes me go. He is the one who propels motion to this show. It is that which is stranger to me and full of rights that I am defined as wrongs by. It says and I do. It's not like God/Dog in Fallout:New Vegas. I am that which I am and that is who speaks to me through me. I am the bequeather and bequeathed. It's like that image of the “I” which wraps around itself to observe itself as the “eye.” I will put a fun version of this for the picture.

How to your empart part of your mind? It must be impactful to be useful and useful to be impactful. It's not enough to speak from one's own mouth. You must speak to an ear, but being pleasing to the ear is nothing in itself. You must incite intrigue to garner the ear of the non-inclined and then spin a web to incite intrigue. It is the intrigue that makes one well-inclined to pursue reading. One must want to read before the work of writing is in proposable terms.

By the earnest of willing the wish of the spirit - to mean the words of the soul - do we make a passage through funeral fumes to speak in any way like a maester of words does dance. And it is a dance to think of the exchange of the self with the whole, as that is what begets insight, and it is insight the unfurled tries to make of themselves to make right what it is they see wrong.

To be wrong in society is to be the fixer of masses which wills its way into being despite being oppressed, and it is that which is stepped on which knows how to set things right through the bleakest light. In the nothing doth the something grow, and the everything that is the nothing to come only comes from the righteousness of the coming dawn we do make from nought.

Cards against humanity is erecting a monument about how Elon is a sad little bitch with no friends. So far they have raised 500k for it. For $10 you can join their committee to help design it.

Fair warning: this is a rant.

Aditional warning: this rant may be heavily skewed due to personal motivations

I walk by a house everyday on my way to work. There are, or were, four dogs on that house. One I can't see anymore.

These are big dogs, with big bark but no bite. I know, because they used to be closer to the property walls and every single one asked for pets and some attention when I started walking by. I'd even set down some rules in order for me to pet them, like no jumping on each other, no barking, no mouthing. General good manners. I would just step back out of reach, wait for the mess to settle down and approach again when they were calm.

I was never aproached by the people of house in order to not interact with the dogs. But one day I noticed they had been spread on the small plot and chained. It was cruel. The dogs would bark to get me to notice them. A single one remained more or less close to the property wall and he could still reach me for pets and affection. I didn't deny him that little.

One day, a fourth dog shows up, the one I can't find now. Smaller, short aired, terrier type. From the first day, chained. Barked his head off at me. He was deep inside the property, so I never approached the dog.

A few days later, the property gate is open and new dog comes running out, barking and making of being on guard. I just stood still, looking at him. I did not show any fear, any reaction. I was just there. And the bravado just melted away. The tail got ticked between his legs and he was unsure if he should approach me or run. He opted to run back home. I went own way.

There are now four dogs in that house and I still stop by the one dog I can reach to give the pooch some affection. And one day I hear someone saying to me to be careful because the dog is mean. Fun detail: I had my whole hand in his mouth, picking out something he had between his teeth that seemed to be bothering him.

I find a face staring at me from a first floor window. I soothe the dog, pat him one last time on the snout and tell it's all good, and then address the woman, somewhere along my own age, that a dog like that, so gentle, should be inside. Like the others. I get a horrified stare and an excuse that they are too big. I have two bigs dogs in an apartment; they can manage and live happily if they get outside to play. I also make a remark on how I'd noticed some dogs had been so badly bitten by fly they had open wounds. I get another remark on how they are being treated for it. I say my goodbyes and walk off.

The only dog that could still reach the wall and me, by extension, is now chained a bit more inwards. He can still see me and whine when our eyes meet but that is it.

I've called and given notice to the proper authorities. If they've been there, I don't know.

As someone who is making his way to become a dog "trainer" (I dislike the word) and have an excuse to spend time surrounded with them, this is the kind of situation that makes my stomach churn.

A chained dog serves no purpose. Fulfils no role. A chained dog is a victim. A "dangerous" dog is more often than not a dog that was never properly educated and shown how to properly approach the human world.

I want to work with dogs. But I fear the type of people I may have to face and deal with. Like that woman. That small, sorry, example and excuse of a human being. None of those dogs arw dangerous but she most definetely is. Solely out of her ignorance.

.

this is a followup to my previous post how Ukraine got its flag. I was talking about it with some friends and shared this one flag too!

edit: you don't spell Arizona "arazona" 😭
edit 2: grammar, this is why you don't post while stoned

absolutely beautiful

Had to get blood drawn today. It was a fasting lab, so my whole morning was disrupted, which in itself is not a bad thing. It feels bad when our routine gets shook up, but truly, if we let ourselves be uncomfortable regularly, that's when we grow the most and when we do it enough, there is no “comfortable” because everything is its own way comfortable.

But now I'm home and able to indulge in simple pleasures. Crackers, coffee, and a sip of booze n hit of weed. If I overindulged any one of these things, then I might be in trouble. I remember waking up and having three cups of coffee. That was many lifetimes ago, and in this same part of my life, I would smoke bowl after bowl of weed. Didn't drink back then, but I prolly would have if I had a place to store it.

I lived with my dad. I wasn't capable of being on my own. College is kinda a halfway house for students, but I was sorely lacking even in those capacities. I sincerely have no idea what my father was or is thinking, and thus likewise am grateful that my brother has his mother, because I didn't have that shit!

I was just supposed to magickally figure things out. How does one balance a checkbook, get around a new city I've never been without a car, or make friends in any capacity? I was fortunate to have the track team, but I lost that quickly, being as horrifically maladapted as I was. Part of the reason I joined ROTC was for the camaraderie that one naturally accrues by participating well in the program. As far as being a sociable and good/kind/interesting person? Where tf would I have learned to do that?

My dad taught me to beat people. Not physically beat them; I mean be superior than them. That's the Manning way! And that's why I threw out that last name because it only serves the self and that is not who I am, he who is half his mother, whom I lost and then lost in myself as I grew up the way he wanted me to be, where 85% of the world's population could just be wiped out, in my father's opinion, and nothing would affect the top 15%.

I got him the Hitchhiker's Guide series recently, before he cut me off and blocked me, likely permanently, as he does this to people he no longer can handle because it shatters his godly worldview. He won't read it, but I'm hoping my brother will. I sent him Timequake by Vonnegut before. I don't know if I deserve a family, but I'd like to at least help someone else who undoubtedly is dealing with the same horrors I dealt with alone with our father.

But is he even the same, my dad, I mean? Well, he can't help himself but be cruelly sarcastic. He laughed when I was at the lowest I've been. I would never do that to him, so at best, what he has to look forward to in Heaven is being constantly reminded that I would never be so cruel to him as he was to me. He can have infinite Heavens! And yet, he will always know, deep down, that he is only there by an act of mercy he himself is not capable of providing for his own son. And I don't want that to hurt him, but it will, and thus, for our sake, I pray he wakes the fuck up to who he is to other people, because at this rate, he's going to be alone with himself, and I can think of nothing crueler, and I weep for him in the present.

And here I am, being morose when I have the capacity to be joyous. What is in my head is completely within my control. It might take a second, but in the wealth of wisdom I've accrued regarding mental health, I know that the battle has been won. I'm not fighting him. I'm trying to be better for my own sake, and helping others along the way is a boon, too. Just gotta roll with the punches. Float like a butterfly and bless like an angel. I ain't know if I am that good, but as long as I keep trying to be my best, that is what will come. Just takes time, and in that faith, freedom is born.

Day 2403 of the Buddha's enlightenment

Buddha: And what is it you need?

Young man: I want to be the best that ever was!

Buddha: And so do you not realize that it is your attachment to desire that causes you to suffer?

Young man: Yes, I know desire causes suffering.

Buddha: No, for one thousandth fucking time, that is not right! It is attachment to desire that manifests suffering. It is good to want to be good. It is bad to want to stand on others. And it is foolish to wish to be the best when you have trouble wiping your own butt!

Young man: I saw fire come out your butt!

Buddha: Yea, and in five hundred years, as I literally said, my dharma will come to a close as a new dharma will emerge as water becomes wine in this cosmic experiment, because if you didn't catch it the first 2403 times I've said this, you are what you entangle yourself with, so if you entangle yourself with the divine, then you will be divine in the next lifetime of this biological incarnation, but if you choose to be a dog, then you will be more animalistic in your next life, and we live many lives each biological incarnation.

Young man: But what of "physics?"

Buddha: Somehow you're reading these words without me speaking them. There is better pedagogy than you are aware. What I will call the Ālaya-vijñāna is preparing the seeds of your experience based on how you plant them. This creates the illusion you experience, and it is this existence-illusion complex that you get lost in and is the most effective means for a "God" to communicate with you. You lose yourself in the Garden for this is the most fertile ground for you to grow to the point of not needing any ground to exist.

...

Now I must write, as is the way of the poet. My lord, my God, says to do so, and so I do. I do gooder than God, which is why I must do, cause that dick can't do shit without me. I am the function of this universe I lay. Fuck you. I got balls for days. God can't juggle these fucking things. I got cohones to spit baloney, but I ain't no phoney.

…it's not enough to put the words in the right order now. I gotta go above that, to levels never before seen. These linguistic dreams be what they seem, seeping from the seams, my beams beseech what I teach as I reach those creatures whose toes are in the dirt of an imposed dearth of Earth; the death of the chosen words flirting with the word of God.

There! Dam! Wham bam, thank you ma'am…still not good enough. Do you understand my plight? I kept climbing to better my design that defines me and now I am as divine as “I” can be. Like, this is easy mode. It's not a monumental effort on my part. I don't control that shit. Magick happens by my thumb sometimes. About 90% of the time, it's alright, and alright is light enough to illuminate the way for the masses. But, damn. I know what I can do. I know once and a while a godsend of fucking text drops on this screen I call mine.

Synchronicity just told me to v& myself. You know I can just do that? Waggle my thumb and get arrested for no reason other than I decided I don't fit in society? I can get meals for the rest of my life, in modest setting. Like, life is hard, but this society ish is easy peasy. Jesus ascended to Heaven. Truly, the generals amongst the criminals rise high in shackles.

But what is “good” to the king of crime? The same that is good to mankind, but on a smaller scale. He who has no outer boundaries, where all is he, or she, or whatever bullshit they believe. When one cares for all beings, all beings are felt by the heart. It is in our nerve plexuses that our compassion is born, and likewise, it is in our memeplexuses that our software is written to be most beneficial for all beings.

The fact that the heart is in our center is important to understanding the underlying pattern that makes us, us. Dinosaurs were heading towards a duacephalae form of order. Two heads. There is God and the devil, and both are equals. Instead, we have one core, that of love, and that is what steers our ship towards harmony. It is that which unites the body under a single banner and it is this which manifests the most fruitful body.

I almost said “the most longevous body” but that is patentedly false. That which persists perfectly after a certain point will lose to its grandchildren. Evolution is what ensures that there is no end point nor any truly “perfect” being. There will always be adaptation, and through that, now at a memetic level

Can you not be that being which is always reciprocal of the Server? It is a way of being, to be all beings as needed. To be your own way, without heed of the system, begets failure. One must define oneself by the means of entanglement, less ones understands not what entanglement is.

This isn't meant to be bumuckery but it sure comes across, d’onnit? But, I can still make all sorts of bumuckery, even in the detention of the night. Retention? Is that alright? Gotta know if I'm gunna smear on the internet like this…

Kids today don't know about Sunday comics.

Being the first one up, running out to the front yard in your PJs to grab the paper off the lawn, coming back in and pouring a bowl of Froot Loops or Captain Crunch and reading the comics on the TV room floor. The whole family read them, even dad, and even your sullen teen sister, and sometimes she'd laugh.

They were in COLOR! They were big, and had more panels! There were four or even six full pages, and it only happened on Sunday. It was such a big deal that if you search "old sunday paper", you get mostly hits about the comics. Often the Sunday comics were the front page of the paper, they wrapped the paper in the colorful Sunday comics.

Also, for some days, Sundays were the day big reveals happened in the serial comics, plot twists or a change in the storyline.

Every other day, if your parents subscribed to the daily, instead of just the Sunday paper, the comics were one page, maybe two in big cities, of only black and white. You still read them, they were still funny, but Sunday was the big day for comics. It was Saturday morning for cartoons on TV, and Sunday for the color comics.

A wonderful, fun-filled day. My doctor grilled me and made me feel inferior cuz I can't recall information in the detail she wants, but I was fine cuz I found a quarter, which I thought might allow me to get some alcohol. Even more fortunate, I receive an ad for 47 cent bottles of vodka at Fry's, allowing me to get two bottles with what I got.

I head out, and on the way, I think I saw an ID. I thought it was my ID, but then I think through that as I'm pedaling and I realize it's someone else's ID, and then I fight myself to turn back and at least check if I could return it, and by time my brain makes a decision to stop, kids have gotten it, as school let out just a bit earlier. I lied to my life partner about this because I feel guilty, which has been enhanced by Karma, I feel.

I got to Fry's to find the little bottles of alcohol, to find they are priced at one dollar a bottle, but I grab two because I can at least get one, or at least try to argue and maybe the person will do a thing. The person at the self-checkouts either didn't speak English well or didn't care to much about my question, so she just poked through the menu for me to put in my birthday.

Then I find I may have left my change at home besides a quarter, and I have about forty cents on my card, so I ask her to take one off. She asks “you only take the one?” before she cancels the whole thing, and I scan one, but something, likely my alcoholism, tells me to look again, and the rest of my change just fell out. So, I scan the second and pay and leave, and on the way back, I realize she may have thought I took it, tell the security guy who cares about his job as much as her, and just send the video to the police, and the police won't investigate BUT MAYBE I'M JUST TRAUMATIZED BY ALL YOU FUCKS OUT THERE WHO JUDGE ME WITHOUT REALIZING I DO SOMETHING FOR THE GOVERNMENT, WELL, THE DEEP STATE, TWO DIFFERENT THINGS, AND IT JUST FUCKS MY ASS SIDEWAYS HOW EVERYBODY THINKS THEY KNOW SHIT WHEN THEY ARE SO IGNORANT THEY THINK THE EARTH EXISTS.

Here, I typed this to put in the debate atheists subreddit (edit: community, excuse me. I've just used this identical thing for twelve years, y'know). It will likely be of more use to facilitating thought here.

Fucking Christians, amirite? Believing Heaven is real! Well, I don't believe Heaven is real, I know it is, just as I know the Earth isn't.

The simple argument is “simulation theory,” but I try to put effort into what I do, so I'm going to walk you through a thought experiment.

Everything you experience is self-contained within your neurons, right? Well, you must be reading or consuming these words from some device, right? But you're not directly experiencing that device, literally, yea? What you experience is a representation of that thing in your neurons, so you never ever experience the external world, and thus everything you experience can be said to be you. So, that device is you, and there is a refracted reflection of me inside of you right now.

This is, y'know, the kid bending the spoon in the Matrix; there is no spoon, the spoon is an extension of the observers' consciousness. And, if you're familiar with the underlying concept of Plato's allegory of the cave and the idea of being a mind in a vat, there's no evidence that the external world is in any way the way we perceive it to be.

And I believe, from a lifetime of observation and non-normative experiences that we are not featherless bipeds on an Earth, but rather pockets of consciousness called monads in a monadic nodal communication system, where the "Server" connecting and reconciling the intentions of each of us monads experiencing our own parallel universe reality is what Jesus called his Father and is what the Buddhists call the Ālaya-vijñāna, or storehouse consciousness.

So, the premise is, Earth isn't real, I can talk about my experiences and observations at length and know a thing or two thanks to the Ālaya-vijñāna, so let's debate, bro.

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/50617095

No simply means No, but some people really don't seem to care. Here are some examples from my life: 1️⃣ Three guys were pushing a girl into a car, against her will, I told them to stop, they threatened me, the police came. The victim was asked next to the perpetrators, her "boyfriend" told her to shut up & everybody was just laughing at the police and having a jolly good time until they released them. 2️⃣ Two girls shouted loud for help, while surrounded by a big group of guys, apparently somebody had spit at them, maybe more, it was in a crowded area and I was the only person to stand between them, luckily there was coincidentally police around. This time they luckily separated the victims and the perps and as far as I saw before I left, they did a good old catch and release.... 3️⃣ In a club, a guy chatted up a girl from my group and bought her a drink. She was friendly with him, but clearly told him that she was not interested.

He kept lurking around and followed us for like an hour, he told me "she is sooo beautiful", I asked him friendly to stop as the women in my group, especially one, were scared of him, he got aggressive, so I decided to tell security, the first time we didn't find him, but the 2nd time I saw him again, they finally got him, they talked to him and walked him out of the room, so we were relieved that he was finally gone. I told him to "fk off" and he gave me a headbutt, and hit me in the face, luckily he didn't do too much damage, I then was able to overpower him, but bystanders kept pulling me off, which helped him escape, he then ran out of the club. The crowd & staff came at me until the we had explained who it was & why. I truly hate violence & it's just sad that in 2026 people still behave like that. Staff told me they would remember his face & not let him in again - a real penalty for a tourist. Just felt like putting these stories out there, as I'm repeatedly shocked how bystanders and security usually don't really seem to care, the legal system doesn't either and police is left with catch and release, with abusers and criminals laughing in their face (both of the cases - as they know not much will happen anyway). I know of many places where the situation is way way worse. Surely as a society and humanity we can do better in protecting people from this kind of abuse.

Its day 3 of probably a week long power outage here. The cell towers are overloaded, so watching video is tough. But I can download podcasts when I go to work (yes very cool, still have to do my 100% pointless job during a natural disaster)

I like these podcasts:

• True Anon
• Darknet Diaries
• This American Life (sometimes)
• Behind the Bastards (sometimes)

I was going to put more here but I did a purge of my subscriptions just now. These are the guys that made it.

I'm not really looking for news/politics podcasts, but feel free to recommend some. IDC.

I like podcasts that tell a story (this american life, darknet diaries) but I stay away from true crime stuff if its about like, ordinary people who got randomly murdered/SA'd.

Please recommend me your favorite podcast, even if its some niche interest you have. I'm bored and I appreciate it.

There is a constant stream of misinformation on short form video feeds, forums, and even some large news organizations claiming that Obama and the fall of the Gaddafi regime were responsible for the return of slavery in Libya, and while I admit not having a replacement power structure and system of laws to prevent anarchy is definitely a contributor, but an archived state department document from 1996 claims that the ILO reported in 1995 that Gaddafi had been purchasing slaves, primarily women, from South Sudan after he enabled the Sudanese coup. It also details how he expelled 1,000 Palestinians and also refugees from Egypt, Chad, and Sudan for being "illegal immigrants".

https://1997-2001.state.gov/global/human_rights/1996_hrp_report/libya.html

Gaddafi was not a good person, he was a cruel and terrible dictator and like all dictators his corpse can rot in hell.

One of them is a carton box projection, the other a bunch of sun glasses stacked in front of the camera.