the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
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
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
we can only engage in such a way
sorry i am texting like a slav
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
i really havent
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
bro i read nothing in my life
i was tempted to lie about my name
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
no like which do people call me
but really the thing should be autonomous
and the fake qualifier
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.
yeah
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
Her English is poor but she manages a brief introduction before getting to the point. She asks if she can touch his face. She's already reaching out and gesturing at it. Koreans are way too polite, he's just laughing awkwardly. I put my hand kind of between them and wave it to try and indicate no to her. I'm still in fucking mime mode. I say no, but it's not really to her, or to him, just no, in general. This is all too weird. Dejected, she departs with a comment about having never seen someone like him before.
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.
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.
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine