this is a hidden page for me to experiment with writing new code, there's also some writings here i haven't put on the rest of the site yet
This is my home page of my test HTML web page. Right now i am using a HTML style on this paragraph. It uses a hexidecimal color, font size of 16 px and text shadow.
This is my home page of my test HTML web page. Right now i am using a HTML style on this paragraph. It uses a hexidecimal color, font size of 16 px and text shadow.
This is my home page of my test HTML web page. Right now i am using a HTML style on this paragraph. It uses a hexidecimal color, font size of 16 px and text shadow.
This is my home page of my test HTML web page. Right now i am using a HTML style on this paragraph. It uses a hexidecimal color, font size of 16 px and text shadow.
This is my home page of my test HTML web page. Right now i am using a HTML style on this paragraph. It uses a hexidecimal color, font size of 16 px and text shadow.
This is my home page of my test HTML web page. Right now i am using a HTML style on this paragraph. It uses a hexidecimal color, font size of 16 px and text shadow.
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No culture or artifact of culture or subculture ever actually gets better over time. Absolutely everything in the world is in a constant process of getting worse, what appears to be a culture getting better is actually the introduction of truly new artifacts of culture, new genes are introduced into the populace of the collective consciousness. *for those looking to be optimistic, I think it's possible that the good qualities of a thing are not as finite as they seem, as new cultural contexts are created by *other* new cultural origins, and within these new contexts there may be further development to discover in the old cultural origins
**although... Just like culture, the value of life and meaning of existence even as we grow beyond some imagined ideal, beyond our simple orignation and progenation, our basic childhood development, is the continuous discovery of the self, something ultimately indistinguishable from the *creation* of the self.
something can be good from staying the same, or from a constant rebirth, but not by being recklessly added to and distorted after it's origination is complete.
It's not that something needs to stay the same or that needs NOT to, it's just that it cannot bear entropy within it's definition.
5/5/23
No culture or artifact of culture or subculture ever actually gets better over time. Absolutely everything in the world is in a constant process of getting worse, what appears to be a culture getting better is actually the introduction of truly new artifacts of culture, new genes are introduced into the populace of the collective consciousness.
A small degree of (good) development upon an origin, if any, is actually part of the creation of the original good (i.e the origin is still in the process of being created),
and the reality is that further development simply represents an extention of the host artifact, which is not complete yet. Once the host artifact of culture is complete, it only ages.
>The development of a cultural origin may be better described as *discovering* it's inate good qualities which were not initially known, as opposed to creating them.*
*for those looking to be optimistic, I think it's possible that the good qualities of a thing are not as finite as they seem, as new cultural contexts are created by *other* new cultural origins, and within these new contexts there may be further development to discover in the old cultural origins
It's just like how people always get older, nobody ever gets younger, instead they are just replaced with new people. (After a certain age, development of the origin is complete, and from that point the desired quality comes not from continued growth but from stability.**) In the same sense culture follows entropy. The quality of goodness only comes from cultural youth. A culture only appears to become better though continuous origination.
**although... Just like culture, the value of life and meaning of existence even as we grow beyond some imagined ideal, beyond our simple orignation and progenation, our basic childhood development, is the continuous discovery of the self, something ultimately indistinguishable from the *creation* of the self.
Humanity no longer exists.
For all of history, humans have used tools, but never before have tools used humans.
The use of tools, which we use to shape our environment, and our ability for complex socialization
in the beauty of culture are the two things which most people would argue define us above all else,
they are the very things which make us human. Even as individuals, what creates each of us,
what fundamentally makes us up as people, within our own mind and our experience of the
entire world around us is our environment and our socialization. -But what happens when our
entire environment is industrial? What happens if our socialization, if every aspect of culture and
connection, is within the influence of an algorithm?
What would happen if humanity was mediated by something which we created, a tool, an environment,
and its purpose was to mechanize our complex systems of socialization?
Beyond even what is obviously a machine, there exist metaphysical machines within the
collective consciousness, a demiurge made of tulpas, a mechanism of social constructs, cultural
machines, political machines, economic machines, and those which have no name.
We live in a post-human age.
>i might be restating something you've already said and im sorry if thats the case but i think the sickness goes back before the internet a little
very much. like america ruins cultures when it tries to spread it's economic values, and the people who try to fight back against american influence focus soley on fighting the economic exploitation*.so basically instead of being better than america they start competing with america to do the same thing, but ~equitable~ or whatever
*(people who fight on basis of culture always fail to win their cultural escape from the harm of america, and end up reducing the cultural fight as a small part of being used as justification within what is primarly an economic or geopolitical conflict)
>its impossible to compete with america without becoming american because america is really good at what it does
............
(talking about old web archives)
im glad someone else actually sees why i lked it
>no yeah like it made me remember what it was like to use the internet before it was like... an obligation
i think the webarchives page adds a lot to the rest of my site
>it really illustrates what you're saying
it like adds context and actual emotion to what im trying to say. otherwise its just walls of text yeah
.............
the internet used to be like a dreamworld. and then it like..
>yes i agree totally
it collided with the real world. and then both were ruined, real life wasnt real., and there was nothing left to dream about
>we talk about the dream when we wake up and while we dream. everyone has the same dream at all hours
yeah... collective conciousness has gone wrong or something. i was just looking at the "rules of the internet" .. its weird how like... so much of this was kind of already known.. but nobody actually knew how important their observations were
>yeah lol
it's like learning about ancient greek philosophy or something knowing that the empires were going to fall.
rule one of the internet was the fight club joke..
dont talk about /b/
>lol
a lot of the rules are like that, where its like damn its not a joke that was actually good advice. in 2016 we talked about /b/, and now look what happened
>exactly
...........
i went on a road trip to LA with my friend, his sister and her friend bc he got free disneyland tickets. it was only like three days with two days of driving and we barely slept, which was like the perfect way to experience LA because it felt more like a funny dream than an actual hellscape. .....
we had an airbnb which was just one room in a house being rented out to other people, and we had to go in one side door to get to a tiny room with no ac and a bathroom shared with the people a room across from us. no ac and it was a heatwave, four of us and only one bed. and the house was just like in the middle of this sprawl of other houses which were supposedly normal
and on our way back we took a different route, after leaving LA and driving in the hills for a while we stopped in this town called solvang.
i think i told this story in a post once
>i dont remember the post so please keep going
the whole town is danish/german themed. it was so weird because it genuinely felt so pleasant and dreamlike.
i mean it was also dreamlike because i was sleep deprived and we were drivng so long
really weird experience
>yeah thats like
>fucking bizarre
they had tons of bakeries, clock maker
antique store
a small painting store, whatever else, like the stores were even what youd expect in a danish town
i really liked that place
and the funny thing is when we started driving away
we like start to leave the town, maybe three minuts out, but like as soon as we leave ....
im basically falling asleep in the car
my friend, whos driving, points forwards and says " is that a rocket?"
>holy shit what
i like open my eyes and sit up and see a rocket taking off
in the distance
i cant remember what rocket it actually was, i tried to look up rocket launches for like 15 minutes but we were going into hills where there wasnt reception
anyway, super weird dreamlike three days. funny story
but also kind of unrelated that town made me think
i mean
especially after i had just been in los angeles
what if america was just good instead
>yeah
>parts of it are
>parts of it are built by recent immigrants like solvang
>people who dont want america
>or rather like
we could have built the whole place to feel that good.
>the hyperreal america
>i dont think americans could do it
i know part of the dreamlike stuff is due to it being a werid three days but i also do think we could just be living a more dreamlike life if things werent fucked up like los angeles is
............................
(on topic of international travel)
also that last part, where its selling a life nobody actually lives because it was destroyed in order to be sold, i feel like thats slowly becoming literally everything and not just tourism
>experiences become commodities and social signifiers.
>the internet demands your identity and it demands evidence of it and that evidence is experiences youve had and posted about and captured and given up to it
>and more than that we just think of experiences in terms of fiction
>you really fucking hit the nail on the head with that
some other interesting stories;
Once in high school my friends thought I was crazy for saying there was some tiny force that was moving my laptop screen by like a fraction of a millimeter. Like it was almost impossible to see and literally impossible to feel and I was the only person who sensed it and it was so faint I was even doubting if I was just hallucinating. Like an extremely microscopic oscillation. I was thinking like, is anyone bouncing their leg, is it because of a fan, or is it some movement from in pipes in the walls maybe? We eventually agreed it must have been bc of nearby construction, since there had been some construction the week before. But I thought it was way too quiet for that to make sense. Then 18 minutes later we got hit with an earthquake, i still believe that I sensed the faults slipping
Once I was biking through a deserted part of campus at 7am on a weekend. It was dead quiet and very foggy out.
I suddenly heard thousands of people screaming out of nowhere. But I couldn’t see anyone. And in unnaturally perfect unison, the screaming would stop just as abruptly and return to completely silence, only for it to start again multiple times. It was so loud and echoey that I couldn’t even tell where it was coming from. It almost seemed like it was coming from above me.
Turns out the football team practices in the early morning, and when they do, they use the stadium loudspeakers to play recordings of cheering fans. Presumably to train players to stay focused in a real game.
note to self; write about the story of the slowly moving apartment building i once saw, which turned out to be a cruise ship at the end of the street
site created nov 9 2022
should equal 124 days
This shows the days since the last IT or network issue that resulted in angry clients, angry boss people or unscheduled downtime of any servers.
Previous Period: 74
All Time Record: 221
Note: Button doesn't actually work yet...
.
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Through tightened block
Cleat the sail
Hike broadly your head
Past the rail
In the furious waves
That beckon hail
Tame the ocean
By line and hand
Deep into the mist
Far away from land
.
.
.
A world made of change
of life lived in waves
cyclical self destruction
each crest heralds graves
searching for a sublime lie
for something that saves
an escape from the grip
of the great facade
for the son so loved the world
that he killed his only god
.
.
From every mountain top she wails and sings
A howling upon the height
She is there in the flap of the quail's wings
In delicate grace of flight
A gentle touch of air by day
But wrathful gales by Night
She makes dress flutter and hair sway
Sailing ship and flying kite
To her, forests bow and yield
The great harbinger of mist and cloud
Which fall upon plow and field
Across the lands a drifting shroud
In sky and in showers
Only from her the steep grows
To blooming meadows of flowers
All that we reap, she sows
Fire writhes before her call
As it fears her omen
Waves rise, crest, and fall
On the piers of every ocean
Even the dry deserts crawl
In a thousand years of motion
To the cry of her thrall
the peaks and poles are frozen
Through all she flows
Above all she towers
Where the wind blows
Beauty overpowers
Tochter aus Elysium
https://aparrish.neocities.org/your-position-is-clear
(these are two of the stanzas i abandoned)
How the summer sun glows
bright are the days without care
through fall soft wind blows
the leaves dancing on air
gently the winter snows
dressing the old hills fair
until at long last spring grows
the greatest beauty to bear
Here in a new green meadow
the sun shines with love for life,
A light which casts my shadow