The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

you have a beautiful account btw

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

barren land

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

yeah

i love it here

like magnets

i want to do that too

"Put a blanket."

god being the centre magnet

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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.

not their contents

Slug

and the fake qualifier

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

no like which do people call me

feel you

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

but really the thing should be autonomous

plato

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.