okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

1

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

Thank you, Jack

yes

Today I felt like starting

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

so the method has to be autonomous

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

so at the end

autonomy of learning

Better Lift

Can I see

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

I Write Goodbye Letter