and the fake qualifier

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Picture

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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.

Today I felt like starting

no longer writing in the third person

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

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

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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


Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

autonomy of learning

not their contents

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

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

is everyoneback on tumblr now

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

so at the end


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

fw

no like which do people call me

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

we need to be deconstructing our identities

you have a beautiful account btw

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.