16
Bring and Brag / Re: poem fragments I don't know what else to do with
« on: July 30, 2021, 04:48:01 am »
You call corners wrong
Hecate ain't your bestie
You aught to stop that
Hecate ain't your bestie
You aught to stop that
News:
The characteristic feature of the loser is to bemoan, in general terms, mankind's flaws, biases, contradictions and irrationality-without exploiting them for fun and profit
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17
Apple Talk / Re: Only losers post in this thread
« on: July 27, 2021, 11:57:58 pm »
*loses with the same reckless abandon as pursuit of winning, like a boss... A loser boss.*
18
Techmology and Scientism / Re: Coronavirus data and events as they come in
« on: July 27, 2021, 06:46:15 pm »
The "Delta" variant has 1200+ TIMES the viral load of the original strain and vastly increased transmission as such, even in the asymptomatic. It has demonstrated a distinct ability to cause "break through" infections in the fully vaccinated. I have not yet looked up the specific R0, but it's gotta be well over the 5-9 range estimated for original sars cov2.
As a personal note I recieved the J&J one shot vaccine appx 6 weeks ago. The side effects were mild but persistent for about 2 weeks. It is hopefully enough to prevent dangerous symptoms. Delta ain't nothing to fuck with, but New Orleans is rolling like nothing is going on, the outbreak epicenter is currently Florida at appx 1/5 of all US cases. Louisiana catches a huge amount of tourists from Florida, and the Floridians are every bit deserving of their asshole reputation. Prognosis.. Not good.
As a personal note I recieved the J&J one shot vaccine appx 6 weeks ago. The side effects were mild but persistent for about 2 weeks. It is hopefully enough to prevent dangerous symptoms. Delta ain't nothing to fuck with, but New Orleans is rolling like nothing is going on, the outbreak epicenter is currently Florida at appx 1/5 of all US cases. Louisiana catches a huge amount of tourists from Florida, and the Floridians are every bit deserving of their asshole reputation. Prognosis.. Not good.
19
Apple Talk / Re: The NOLA Chronicles
« on: July 27, 2021, 06:03:04 pm »
THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT NEW ORLEANS PT I
The streets are non-euclidian and it would be unduly generous to describe the driving of locals and tourists alike as"erratic". Riding a bicycle is highly favored, but not necessarily safer. There is literally a monument made of bent and broken bike frames painted white dedicated to the cyclists slain by folly. If you are hit you can expect the driver to bolt in most cases. Insuring a vehicle is prohibitively expensive as such. A great many locals either register out of the area or just plain don't register or insure at all.
Along those lines very often the roads and sidewalks undulate and/or are broken. Despite the only drinking law being "no glass containers" shattered glass is as common as discarded bead necklaces. ALWAYS watch your step as you go.
In the French Quarter there are 3 public bathrooms still in operation. 2 are along Decatur St between Latrobe Park, near the French Market, and Jackson Square. There is another tucked in back of the mini-mall in the JAX brewery building. The only other facilities will cost you a drink at a bar or restaurant, minimum.
If you hear a man with a Honduran accent yelling "Hot tamale ba-by!" Get you them tamales! They are $4 and big enough to feed two people. The Tamale Man is one of the best and brightest souls I have encountered here, and a powerful practitioner of a very low key sort.
Expect people to panhandle for money, cigarettes, and sometimes food. Polite refusal is not wrong as they will simply move on to the next person if they're running a hustle. If you can do give to those that you sense need in, but do NOT flash much cash under any circumstances. The panhandlers may be harmless, but you will immediately be noted as a mark by the not so benign sorts to be found most everywhere. That said asking for help is often very fruitful as the VAST majority of the locals are very friendly and well used to helping visitors and newcomers.
Tip well the performers and the musicians. Do not be an asshole and take pictures of the artwork or performance artists without permission. Do this and Nola will bless you with the opportunity to make friends fast. If you choose to be a dick hole Nola has a way of getting you paid up in one sense or another.
The streets are non-euclidian and it would be unduly generous to describe the driving of locals and tourists alike as"erratic". Riding a bicycle is highly favored, but not necessarily safer. There is literally a monument made of bent and broken bike frames painted white dedicated to the cyclists slain by folly. If you are hit you can expect the driver to bolt in most cases. Insuring a vehicle is prohibitively expensive as such. A great many locals either register out of the area or just plain don't register or insure at all.
Along those lines very often the roads and sidewalks undulate and/or are broken. Despite the only drinking law being "no glass containers" shattered glass is as common as discarded bead necklaces. ALWAYS watch your step as you go.
In the French Quarter there are 3 public bathrooms still in operation. 2 are along Decatur St between Latrobe Park, near the French Market, and Jackson Square. There is another tucked in back of the mini-mall in the JAX brewery building. The only other facilities will cost you a drink at a bar or restaurant, minimum.
If you hear a man with a Honduran accent yelling "Hot tamale ba-by!" Get you them tamales! They are $4 and big enough to feed two people. The Tamale Man is one of the best and brightest souls I have encountered here, and a powerful practitioner of a very low key sort.
Expect people to panhandle for money, cigarettes, and sometimes food. Polite refusal is not wrong as they will simply move on to the next person if they're running a hustle. If you can do give to those that you sense need in, but do NOT flash much cash under any circumstances. The panhandlers may be harmless, but you will immediately be noted as a mark by the not so benign sorts to be found most everywhere. That said asking for help is often very fruitful as the VAST majority of the locals are very friendly and well used to helping visitors and newcomers.
Tip well the performers and the musicians. Do not be an asshole and take pictures of the artwork or performance artists without permission. Do this and Nola will bless you with the opportunity to make friends fast. If you choose to be a dick hole Nola has a way of getting you paid up in one sense or another.
20
Apple Talk / The NOLA Chronicles
« on: July 27, 2021, 07:29:48 am »
ARRIVAL
The train ride from LaCrosse Amtrak Station took me first to Chicago, Then all the way south by way of Memphis to the station on Loyola in my fair Nola, though I did not know New Orleans, Louisiana by that Name at the time. I truly did not know Her yet at all.
It was almost a solid two day trip with the layover in Chi-town. I wish I could say it was peaceful but some sadistic young woman played an obnoxious audio file on her phone nonstop. It was all noise and even had the horrible "worst sound in the world" from Dumb And Dumber. Apparently this was her idea of retaliation for my snoring, but this claim did not come to light until near the end of the journey. I and the other passengers endured it until she finally disembarked about 5 hours out from my stop.
By this time I was struck first by the trees being DIFFERENT as I looked out the window at the scenery rolling by me. It helped me to not think about how few people I had been in company with wore their masks correctly and consistently. Thinking had become something of a burden by this point anyway. The poison I had been exposed to in March of 2020 had demolished much of me, and my physical and mental health were on very shaky ground indeed. Now in mid November I was at least no longer in freefall in this regard. My time spent guarding the dojo had allowed me to see to my wellbeing as well as possible. No small thanks for the spiritual part of this was owed to a dead man, a Master honored by the dojo's kamidana named Takamatsu San. He alleviated the bitterness of my grief for my poisoned friends and recently slain Igbo brother Justice Ihechi Raphael. More on him and Justice later. Suffice for now to say that Takamatsu San rode with me, as did many of The Dead Masters, because I had invited him and them to accompany me on my Way.
The station in Nola was hauntingly empty. The evidence of charming shops closed down due to the pandemic would prove to be the tenor of my first days here. A kindly elder gentleman with a sharp sense of business was just outside the station waiting for someone exactly like me. I asked for a ride to Jackson Square. He helped me with my rolling luggage, packed for urban survival, and $15 and ten minutes later I found myself on a park bench awaiting my contact, a woman I shall here call Gabby that has a great many Names.
Gabby was at work until evening and so I found a bench between the Square and the Cathedral in the heart of the French Quarter. The air was to me extremely pleasant of temperature and filled with the noise of people, and a brass band played for hours rather expertly. I was soaking in "the vibe" of what I hoped would be my new home and finding it quite to my taste. At least I did until dusk slowly began to descend. I was suddenly acutely aware that I was in a haunted place, but I had never seen a haunt SO BIG that it enveloped an outdoor area entirely. The dead here were the sort that happen with MASSIVE amounts of violence and rage. I knew nothing of the history of Jackson Square at the time. I just knew that a haunt like this was no place to be drawing attention to myself and switched off my "vibe soaker".
Not too long after night had fully fallen Gabby appeared out of the crowd wearing a long, modest, and simple black dress. There was no mistaking the person that I had gotten to know through chance encounter on FB that had sparked a meaningful friendship in the hard months of desperate doom scrolling that had kept me occupied in the worst year of my life, perhaps of all my lives. We embraced briefly and slightly awkwardly. I mentioned the dead on and under the Square as she led me and my luggage down to Decatur St, and she laughed pleasantly with a slight exasperation as if I had told a rather tired old joke.
We meandered through streets that were empty in a rather visceral way indeed having at last opportunity to speak on many subjects frankly that were none of Zuckersnitch's thrice-damned business. She had a friend in the St. Roch (pronounced like rock) neighborhood that she was fairly sure would put me up for the night there and I absolutely could not wait to catch a shower and change clothes after nearly 3 days. We made our way in no great hurry by way of many then nameless back streets and along Elysian Fields to North Roman. As we passed the massive crypt-walls of the St. Roch holy cemetery I sensed another powerful haunt, but VERY different in nature. She seemed amused as my gaze lingered through the iron gates to one of two whole city blocks that comprised the site. She also warned me that many local practitioners used it as a ritual space of the not-very-nice sort, and that an Entity even she would prefer to let be was bound under the Chapel of St. Michael. I resolved to visit at the very first opportunity available of course.
We went on to the home of her friend Arkicide. He seemed a bit exasperated and none too sure of me, 10 years in Nola will make you VERY wary and even weary of people, but he consented to put me up for the night. I have seen Gabby only a small handful of times since that night. She seemed to prefer to just let me run free in Nola without her, and I have been content with that. This journey is mine, and I am never truly alone anyway.
The train ride from LaCrosse Amtrak Station took me first to Chicago, Then all the way south by way of Memphis to the station on Loyola in my fair Nola, though I did not know New Orleans, Louisiana by that Name at the time. I truly did not know Her yet at all.
It was almost a solid two day trip with the layover in Chi-town. I wish I could say it was peaceful but some sadistic young woman played an obnoxious audio file on her phone nonstop. It was all noise and even had the horrible "worst sound in the world" from Dumb And Dumber. Apparently this was her idea of retaliation for my snoring, but this claim did not come to light until near the end of the journey. I and the other passengers endured it until she finally disembarked about 5 hours out from my stop.
By this time I was struck first by the trees being DIFFERENT as I looked out the window at the scenery rolling by me. It helped me to not think about how few people I had been in company with wore their masks correctly and consistently. Thinking had become something of a burden by this point anyway. The poison I had been exposed to in March of 2020 had demolished much of me, and my physical and mental health were on very shaky ground indeed. Now in mid November I was at least no longer in freefall in this regard. My time spent guarding the dojo had allowed me to see to my wellbeing as well as possible. No small thanks for the spiritual part of this was owed to a dead man, a Master honored by the dojo's kamidana named Takamatsu San. He alleviated the bitterness of my grief for my poisoned friends and recently slain Igbo brother Justice Ihechi Raphael. More on him and Justice later. Suffice for now to say that Takamatsu San rode with me, as did many of The Dead Masters, because I had invited him and them to accompany me on my Way.
The station in Nola was hauntingly empty. The evidence of charming shops closed down due to the pandemic would prove to be the tenor of my first days here. A kindly elder gentleman with a sharp sense of business was just outside the station waiting for someone exactly like me. I asked for a ride to Jackson Square. He helped me with my rolling luggage, packed for urban survival, and $15 and ten minutes later I found myself on a park bench awaiting my contact, a woman I shall here call Gabby that has a great many Names.
Gabby was at work until evening and so I found a bench between the Square and the Cathedral in the heart of the French Quarter. The air was to me extremely pleasant of temperature and filled with the noise of people, and a brass band played for hours rather expertly. I was soaking in "the vibe" of what I hoped would be my new home and finding it quite to my taste. At least I did until dusk slowly began to descend. I was suddenly acutely aware that I was in a haunted place, but I had never seen a haunt SO BIG that it enveloped an outdoor area entirely. The dead here were the sort that happen with MASSIVE amounts of violence and rage. I knew nothing of the history of Jackson Square at the time. I just knew that a haunt like this was no place to be drawing attention to myself and switched off my "vibe soaker".
Not too long after night had fully fallen Gabby appeared out of the crowd wearing a long, modest, and simple black dress. There was no mistaking the person that I had gotten to know through chance encounter on FB that had sparked a meaningful friendship in the hard months of desperate doom scrolling that had kept me occupied in the worst year of my life, perhaps of all my lives. We embraced briefly and slightly awkwardly. I mentioned the dead on and under the Square as she led me and my luggage down to Decatur St, and she laughed pleasantly with a slight exasperation as if I had told a rather tired old joke.
We meandered through streets that were empty in a rather visceral way indeed having at last opportunity to speak on many subjects frankly that were none of Zuckersnitch's thrice-damned business. She had a friend in the St. Roch (pronounced like rock) neighborhood that she was fairly sure would put me up for the night there and I absolutely could not wait to catch a shower and change clothes after nearly 3 days. We made our way in no great hurry by way of many then nameless back streets and along Elysian Fields to North Roman. As we passed the massive crypt-walls of the St. Roch holy cemetery I sensed another powerful haunt, but VERY different in nature. She seemed amused as my gaze lingered through the iron gates to one of two whole city blocks that comprised the site. She also warned me that many local practitioners used it as a ritual space of the not-very-nice sort, and that an Entity even she would prefer to let be was bound under the Chapel of St. Michael. I resolved to visit at the very first opportunity available of course.
We went on to the home of her friend Arkicide. He seemed a bit exasperated and none too sure of me, 10 years in Nola will make you VERY wary and even weary of people, but he consented to put me up for the night. I have seen Gabby only a small handful of times since that night. She seemed to prefer to just let me run free in Nola without her, and I have been content with that. This journey is mine, and I am never truly alone anyway.
21
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 27, 2021, 05:34:12 am »It's OK, she's been auto-resurrected. I used self raising flour
22
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 26, 2021, 02:14:05 pm »
So it's come to daggers in the night eh Cramulus? Well your triad of assassins failed and gave up your plot to pay the Iron Price to win this thread under my tender ministrations with a rusty claw hammer. I AM STILL HERE CRAMULUS!! Goddess have mercy for I may or may not.
23
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 26, 2021, 12:17:23 am »you're both losers nowAll that time navel gazing and you're still caught up in dualistic thinking Cram. Do you even Consciousness bro?..
Not a rhetorical question, technically.
24
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 25, 2021, 07:47:17 pm »
Still in this like...
26
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 25, 2021, 02:01:40 pm »Hmmm... Well Cramulamadingdong, It was confusing, painful at times, euphoric at times. Sometimes PD seemed freakishly synchronous to events in my life, sometimes freakishly asynchronous. I have seen the whimsy and the dire thoughts of Genius and Shadow alike in the other posters. I saw myself grow and mutate. Subjectively I came to know Eris personally. She showed me how asshats are made. Objectively... Well I still got a pretty good grip on the asshat thing. I have achieved the subversion of my own "unlimited" thread and it feels like an accomplishment, yet it's of no great concern to anyone but me. I took up ORANGES once in honor of another's suffering, once in my foolass pride, recieving vision from each and suffering digestive malfunction beyond the pale of the uninitiated. I began to feel like my poetry mattered enough to keep a record of, in this way at last accepting my artistic nature. I beheld the steady metamorphosis of those that remain and the inglorious butthurt of many a failed troll. I told people things about myself I never tell anyone. I went mad with poison and revealed myselves in a manner that could not be controlled. I may have at long last learned to accept that I can be correct and still WRONG in my attitude towards correct information from others. I may not have learned anything whatsoever in this sense. I made blood ass friends and a couple dire enemies, both of which I would love to be on the doorstep of one day. I learned that if you want to fight a spiritual war you gotta fight dirtier than a mad boar in rut, but Keep Your Fucking Mouth Shut.Not been lurking for a few weeks, this is the new open bar, right?
Nope. This is the death rattle thread.
madness...?
PD is like that running gag in comedy where you think the character is gonna die and just as the lights go out there's one more thing to say, but it's been going like that for YEARS now.
What if PD CAN'T DIE??
The funny thing is that it SEEMS dead, but then this thread that proves we all still check it at least once a day, and clearly want to chill online with each other.
Yeah. It's like a fractal refrain in the song of my life since 2011. It's been a hard and strange decade, yet PD has ever been something I can come back to in good or bad circumstances. Strange for a thing to be a "place" to me. It's the closest thing I have had to a spiritual community since I was 19 and rejected churches pretty much entirely. I truly am unable to imagine how I would be had I not made the decision to dive in. I surely cannot speak for anyone else, but WE ARE STILL HERE, for whatever reasons.
That's beautiful, Wizzy J. What do you think has made participation here feel like a spiritual experience to you?
In short,
I fucked around.
I found out.
Hail Eris!!
All Hail
Discordia!!
27
Only Maybe Arts Lab / Re: MAYBE DAY 2021 IS COMING!
« on: July 25, 2021, 03:00:10 am »I didn't realize this, but Holy Nonsense dropped on Maybe Day. That's gotta be some kind of omen.Yup.
29
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 25, 2021, 02:57:24 am »Not been lurking for a few weeks, this is the new open bar, right?
Nope. This is the death rattle thread.
madness...?
PD is like that running gag in comedy where you think the character is gonna die and just as the lights go out there's one more thing to say, but it's been going like that for YEARS now.
What if PD CAN'T DIE??
The funny thing is that it SEEMS dead, but then this thread that proves we all still check it at least once a day, and clearly want to chill online with each other.
Yeah. It's like a fractal refrain in the song of my life since 2011. It's been a hard and strange decade, yet PD has ever been something I can come back to in good or bad circumstances. Strange for a thing to be a "place" to me. It's the closest thing I have had to a spiritual community since I was 19 and rejected churches pretty much entirely. I truly am unable to imagine how I would be had I not made the decision to dive in. I surely cannot speak for anyone else, but WE ARE STILL HERE, for whatever reasons.
30
Apple Talk / Re: Last one to post in thread wins
« on: July 24, 2021, 02:59:16 am »Not been lurking for a few weeks, this is the new open bar, right?
Nope. This is the death rattle thread.
madness...?
PD is like that running gag in comedy where you think the character is gonna die and just as the lights go out there's one more thing to say, but it's been going like that for YEARS now.
What if PD CAN'T DIE??