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

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.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

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

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

autonomy of learning

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

we can only engage in such a way

isaac newton

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

kind of mythopoesis

as in

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

not their contents

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

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

Thank you, Jack

2 (actually index). two is company