isaac newton
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.
I am below everything.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
kind of mythopoesis
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
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.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
we can only engage in such a way
hiding from the rain
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
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Lift Analysis
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.
I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.