I'm a lifelong student of the human condition.
fred_c_dobbs: Who needs Gitmo when you cansimply declare a citizen to be an enemy combatant and deny them the right to legal counsel?
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unbodied: another interesting polarity is YYYYYYY mentioning that i dont respond 'in real time'
unbodied: combine that with her delay
unbodied: and you get a very funny parallax
fr0gm4n2: well lets just say she dont play chess
fr0gm4n2: like her build ups dont have a direction
unbodied: that old newtonian, euclidian space time operating in her
unbodied: and she dont even know it
unbodied: that there even is a quantum
unbodied: yeah about following a direction of thought
unbodied: well if you have no directions i guess you can make your next play right away
fr0gm4n2: this is a classic of XXXXXXXX
fr0gm4n2: she likes to inturrupt
fr0gm4n2: as if she dont know what she is doing
unbodied: then after the game's over say ahhh some alien being is controlling this
unbodied: yeah definitely a variety of types of thinking
unbodied: and how that thinking passes into speaking
unbodied: and then back into thinking
fr0gm4n2: see i see this... as we're better at this than these younger ppl
fr0gm4n2: they feel they dont need a memory
fr0gm4n2: they have a phone for this]
unbodied: outsourced memory
fr0gm4n2: its what the goverments want
fr0gm4n2: ppl are less dangerous in this way
unbodied: i hear some coworkers complain about feeling alone together, and how they sleep so much, are cynical
unbodied: they can't see how much this technology has formed part of their character
unbodied: i told them, leave all your gadgets for a week
unbodied: they say no way
unbodied: they can't handle being alone
fr0gm4n2: i got an iphone
unbodied: because that would mean being alone with oneself
unbodied: but what if there is no oneself to be alone with
fr0gm4n2: all i use it for is a connection
unbodied: like tether
unbodied: on a 3g
unbodied: better than broadband
fr0gm4n2: yes its ok
unbodied: do you read books on it lol
fr0gm4n2: peak times thing are a bit slow
unbodied: some walk right into that, and dont realize what's fallen away
fr0gm4n2: i read real books
unbodied: then dont understand why they can't even start books anymore
fr0gm4n2: i like things i can hold
fr0gm4n2: look at
unbodied: yeah, lie on the floor and reach for
unbodied: then two days later find it there
unbodied: and pick up where you left off
fr0gm4n2: i like minimalism
fr0gm4n2: but not to have just screens
unbodied: yeah manageable
fr0gm4n2: i like mess too
unbodied: yeah that's the funny thing about digital
unbodied: you can't get that mess
unbodied: things are accessible anywhere anytime
unbodied: with no order to it
fr0gm4n2: lol yes
unbodied: although you can impose order, but that's deep shit
fr0gm4n2: look its no fun... just going and picking sumthin up
unbodied: lol no it's terrible
fr0gm4n2: the fun is finding it in all that mess
unbodied: now what if that mess could be virtualized lol
unbodied: ok that involves tactile technology, etc etc
unbodied: some ways off
fr0gm4n2: shad wouldnt be here
unbodied: and a near total collapse of space, no he'd be gone lol
fr0gm4n2: if he had to essemble himself
unbodied: like phae through the toilet
unbodied: yeah reassemble
unbodied: that's interesting
unbodied: the conscious assemblage
fr0gm4n2: like carly... thinking she knows fred
fr0gm4n2: ok so why is fred the glaSS hammer?
fr0gm4n2: whats the connection?
fr0gm4n2: fibre optics
fr0gm4n2: freds tactics the hammer
unbodied: high-level tinkering
unbodied: manipulating the very stuff
unbodied: shad pulls his hands apart
unbodied: all green and gooey
unbodied: how does this shit work
fr0gm4n2: zoe... ummm
unbodied: he says
unbodied: fr0g are u there
fr0gm4n2: im in the jungle?
unbodied: he dials in
unbodied: ok download some jungle 3d pics
unbodied: and some ambient sounds
unbodied: this is where i am now
unbodied: ok zoe the secret is like nike just do it
unbodied: dont compare yourself to other cultures
fr0gm4n2: thats shad kill program
fr0gm4n2: ok shad time to exucute the end program
fr0gm4n2: zoe if you will
unbodied: watever fr0g......shad kneads the goop
unbodied: with his legs crossed
unbodied: at the zero zero point
fr0gm4n2: shad..... theres an error in my chain of commands
fr0gm4n2: ok shad.... ima go into the terminal
unbodied: roger daughter
fr0gm4n2: this wont take long
unbodied: i have a million years take ur time
fr0gm4n2: shad walk around motreal
unbodied: will a shad in a fully virtualized reality face the same fate as little s in THIS virtualized reality?
unbodied: ONLY FRED KNOWS
unbodied: *drops file on fred's desk...*
Fred, here it is. Take a glance and let me know if you find anything interesting........anything that stands out........and remember what Edgar Allan Poe said........."Truth is not always in a well. In fact, as regards the more important knowledge, I do believe that she is invariably superficial."
Oscar Pistorius’ full defence statement, as read to the court by his lawyer during his bail hearing.
"On the 13th of February 2013 Reeva would have gone out with her friends and I with my friends. Reeva then called me and asked that we rather spend the evening at home. I agreed and we were content to have a quiet dinner together at home. By about 22h00 on 13 February 2013 we were in our bedroom. She was doing her yoga exercises and I was in bed watching television. My prosthetic legs were off. We were deeply in love and I could not be happier. I know she felt the same way. She had given me a present for Valentine's Day but asked me only to open it the next day.
"After Reeva finished her yoga exercises she got into bed and we both fell asleep. I am acutely aware of violent crime being committed by intruders entering homes with a view to commit crime, including violent crime. I have received death threats before. I have also been a victim of violence and of burglaries before. For that reason I kept my firearm, a 9mm Parabellum, underneath my bed when I went to bed at night.
"During the early morning hours of 14 February 2013, I woke up, went onto the balcony to bring the fan in and closed the sliding doors, the blinds and the curtains. I heard a noise in the bathroom and realised that someone was in the bathroom.
"I felt a sense of terror rushing over me. There are no burglar bars across the bathroom window and I knew that contractors who worked at my house had left the ladders outside. Although I did not have my prosthetic legs on I have mobility on my stumps. I believed that someone had entered my house. I was too scared to switch a light on.
"I grabbed my 9mm pistol from underneath my bed. On my way to the bathroom I screamed words to the effect for him/them to get out of my house and for Reeva to phone the police. It was pitch dark in the bedroom and I thought Reeva was in bed.
"I noticed that the bathroom window was open. I realised that the intruder/s was/were in the toilet because the toilet door was closed and I did not see anyone in the bathroom. I heard movement inside the toilet. The toilet is inside the bathroom and has a separate door.
"It filled me with horror and fear of an intruder or intruders being inside the toilet. I thought he or they must have entered through the unprotected window. As I did not have my prosthetic legs on and felt extremely vulnerable, I knew I had to protect Reeva and myself. I believed that when the intruder/s came out of the toilet we would be in grave danger. I felt trapped as my bedroom door was locked and I have limited mobility on my stumps.
"I fired shots at the toilet door and shouted to Reeva to phone the police. She did not respond and I moved backwards out of the bathroom, keeping my eyes on the bathroom entrance. Everything was pitch dark in the bedroom and I was still too scared to switch on a light. Reeva was not responding. When I reached the bed, I realised that Reeva was not in bed. That is when it dawned on me that it could have been Reeva who was in the toilet. I returned to the bathroom calling her name. I tried to open the toilet door but it was locked. I rushed back into the bedroom and opened the sliding door exiting onto the balcony and screamed for help.
"I put on my prosthetic legs, ran back to the bathroom and tried to kick the toilet door open. I think I must then have turned on the lights. I went back into the bedroom and grabbed my cricket bat to bash open the toilet door. A panel or panels broke off and I found the key on the floor and unlocked and opened the door. Reeva was slumped over but alive.
"I battled to get her out of the toilet and pulled her into the bathroom. I phoned Johan Stander ("Stander" who was involved in the administration of the estate and asked him to phone the ambulance. I phoned Netcare and asked for help. I went downstairs to open the front door. I returned to the bathroom and picked Reeva up as I had been told not to wait for the paramedics, but to take her to hospital. I carried her downstairs in order to take her to the hospital. On my way down Stander arrived. A doctor who lives in the complex also arrived. Downstairs, I tried to render the assistance to Reeva that I could, but she died in my arms.
"I am absolutely mortified by the events and the devastating loss of my beloved Reeva. With the benefit of hindsight I believe that Reeva went to the toilet when I went out on the balcony to bring the fan in. I cannot bear to think of the suffering I have caused her and her family, knowing how much she was loved. I also know that the events of that tragic night were as I have described them and that in due course I have no doubt the police and expert investigators will bear this out."
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fred_c_dobbs: It's right here:
"On my way to the bathroom I screamed words to the effect for him/them to get out of my house and for Reeva to phone the police."
This was before the shots were fired according to the deposition. Why didn't Reeva yell back "hey it's me"?
unbodied: Pistorius is, as well, blessed with an uncommon temperament — a fierce, even frenzied need to take on the world at maximum speed and with minimum caution.
In 2008, Pistorius crashed his boat into a submerged pier on a river south of Johannesburg. His face and body hit the steering wheel, and he broke two ribs, his jaw and an eye socket. Doctors had to sew 172 stitches in his face. More recently, while riding his dirt bike through tall grass, he clipped a fence and turned around to see one of his prosthetic legs swinging from a section of barbed wire, an unwelcome sight, for sure, but less dire than if it had been a biological leg.
Lots of athletes at his level hoard their energy for a single purpose. They train, they eat and they sleep — some of them, like infants, up to 12 hours a day counting their long afternoon naps. They become dull boys or girls as a result — or perhaps they are capable of such narrow focus because they were dull to begin with.
Pistorius’s mind and body do not easily come to rest. For a time, he took the TV out of his bedroom so he would not stay up into the early morning watching movies.
He owns six Thoroughbred racehorses. He was a partner in a company that services Ferraris. He bought two African white tigers and boarded them at a game reserve, then sold them to a zoo in Canada when they grew to about 400 pounds and he was no longer comfortable visiting with them. “They were really beautiful, but they started to get a little big for me,” he explained.
The first time I drove with him, I peeked at the speedometer and saw the needle on 250 kilometers per hour. (That’s 155 miles per hour.) People congregate around his vehicle — the “white monster,” his manager called it — just to hear it idle.
The bookshelves in his living room contain mostly biographies — Mandela, Marley, Dylan, Beckham, Salvador Dalí, Steve Jobs
I asked what kind of gun he owned, which he seemed to take as an indication of my broader interest in firearms. I had to tell him I didn’t own any. “But you’ve shot one, right?” Actually, I hadn’t. Suddenly, I felt like one of those characters in a movie who must be schooled on how to be more manly.
“We should go to the range,” he said. He fetched his 9-millimeter handgun and two boxes of ammunition. We got back in the car and drove to a nearby firing range, where he instructed me on proper technique. Pistorius was a good coach. A couple of my shots got close to the bull’s-eye, which delighted him. “Maybe you should do this more,” he said. “If you practiced, I think you could be pretty deadly.” I asked him how often he came to the range. “Just sometimes when I can’t sleep,” he said.
HERE'S THE KEY STUFF (just like mcafee telling the story about gene's recess, PISTORIUS tellin us the story about the loaded chamber!
“We know that Oscar’s a mutant,” Hugh Herr, the director of the Biomechatronics Group at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, told me when I visited him in Cambridge not long ago. “He’s a freak, an absolute freak.”
“Look at him closely,” Louw said. “You may not see this again, an amputee running this fast.” I asked why he thought Pistorius was so fast.
“I want to write my own ticket,” he said as we left practice that afternoon. “That’s all I’m thinking about.”.)
“My goal is to make the finals and improve my position. I want to run all decent races. I don’t want to look back and say I ran a terrible race. It’s not like at this level I can go out and run a low 44, just because I said this is the day I want to do that. That’s never going to happen.”
Which is probably true. But also surprising to hear from someone of Pistorius’s hellbent temperament. I wondered if there might be an element of self-protection in his thinking.
So what does he think as he settles into the starting block? “I just try to get my mind in the right place and think about what I want to do in that race, how I want to run it,” he said. “And then I go out and bang it.”
unbodied: fr0gm4n2you still got grill lilly about picasso
unbodiedi say higgs, he says how heavy
unbodiedask her what she thinks of picasso's quantum paintings?
fr0gm4n2no.... why picasso was a quantum mind
fr0gm4n2and why she thinks this
unbodiedshe said it?
fr0gm4n2not what she read
fr0gm4n2yea lilly said it
unbodiedok i'll zap a text off to her
unbodiedand it will land on her bed
fr0gm4n2i was blocked so couldnt ask
unbodiedstallis says it's all data because it keeps him from totally burning his eggs
unbodiedhe keeps repeating it to himself in the kitchen
unbodiedthis is all just information, im a computer, this egg is just atoms
unbodiedhe's stallin the inevitable
fr0gm4n2she was explaing things to some guys in philo... and said picasso was a quantum thinker. had a quantum mind
unbodiedthat's why he needs the circus to flush it out
unbodiedok she'll have something to say then
unbodiedthink she must have watched that video of the quantum thinker dude
fr0gm4n2i never see that
unbodiedand ruined the word for us lol
unbodieda guy who gives workshops on what he calls quantum thinking, and he does parlor tricks like fooling audiences expectations
unbodiedhe's just an old fool
unbodiedwith the right idea
fr0gm4n2to them quantum thinking is adding a fart to the smell or parfum
unbodiedhe sort of advertises himself as a consultant
unbodiedhe says, let me and my team visit and we'll put your house in order
fr0gm4n2the fart is random and not random
unbodiedlike the guys selling the secret on late night tv
unbodied"if you think it, it starts to come toward you" <--------49.95
unbodiedand they have their own books and everything
unbodiedi noticed an interesting detail though on this guy's website
unbodiedhere's his mission statement: Quantum-Thinking Quantum-thinking is the ability of the mind to function at a higher level of creativity and innovation. This level of thinking allows one to accurately envision the next generation products, services, and mode
unbodiedlol i bet there's one somewhere
unbodiedmodes of operation. It involves a shift from linear thinking to higher-order holistic thinking. Quantum-thinking is achieved by the systematic development of six critical skills:
unbodiedblah blah blah
unbodiedthe key is in his logo
unbodiednext to it, it says The Power to Transform Your World
unbodiedi noticed the word "your" in particular
unbodiedhe's here to level people up
unbodiedhe's been there and back
unbodiedand now you can too
fr0gm4n2if we see gene doing it..... then why cant we do it
unbodiedlol just do what he does
fr0gm4n2you gotta tell fred all this
unbodiedand it's not "the" world, but "your" world
unbodiedthat he promises to innovate
fr0gm4n2c&p this convo and send it to fred
fred_c_dobbs: Gully: your only intellectual strategy is pretending your delusions are adequate substitutes for thoughts
fred_c_dobbs: She sings it almost conservatively while the dude in the blue plaid jacket is grooving that dobro. I'm not much of a slide guitar guy, but that guy is smokin!
I always get this one confused with the guy who jumped off the Tallahachee Bridge...
The lone turtleskin clad figure paused briefly at the arcade doorway, and coolly regarded what lay before him. Dim colored fixed spotlighting and flickering video game displays lit up the air filled with the odor of stale Jujubees, popcorn and overheated circuit boards. Except for Fr0g and Wabber over at the Tailgunner game wth the eclectic stroke trace display, there was only one other player in the place. He was, in fact, the only one that mattered.
Stir shot out an elbow as he strode past Wabber, knocking his medium sized Diet Coke to the ground with an icy rattle, and headed over to the man playing both positions on the Street Fighter IV machine. Gene looked oddly inhuman and mechanical, even from behind. Save for the steady fluttering of the edges of the Brillo-like cloud of his hair-- perhaps by some unseen ventilation, perhaps not-- there was no motion of his body above the elbows at all as he played both characters, listing slightly, but fixedly, to his left to compensate for his withered arm. Even as Stir neared, in the low light he could not shake the impression that the soles of Gene’s shoes appeared to hover about a quarter inch off the arcade floor. When Stir was close enough to see the screen, he could see that Gene was playing Ken on the left console interface, and Ryu on the right. Although the characters had different moves, timing, and input strings, Gene was manipulating them so that they appeared to be in a synchronized dance, making mirror image moves towards each other with impossible temporal precision. When one struck a blow, so did the other, so that both would characters would enter their stun animations at precisely the same time. Or they would throw, counter and escape each other’s grapples simultaneously, finishing with both reeling backwards unnaturally from each other. Again and again, they moved, ducked, and hopped together as if engaged in some weird martial arts mating dance. And then, with one second on the timer, they both landed simultaneous power blows upon each other that emptied both characters’ health gauges.
“DOUBLE KO”, said the unusually jaunty American accented announcer’s voice as the corresponding letters appeared in a stark white slanting font across the screen.
Stir reached in his front pants pocket and made a blind grab for the lucky quarter he kept mixed in with all of the other quarters. He placed it on the lower corner of the display panel with a disconcertingly loud snap of metal on glass. Gene seemed to ignore him, and was about hit the credit button to start a new round.
Stir removed his signature wide brimmed hat, and tossed it directly across Gene’s field of view, where it landed on the Player 1 joystick, spun around four or five times, and then settled over Gene’s clawlike appendage.
“Bah,” said Stir.
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boyzzwillbeboyz: looks like some guy walk into a shop with video machine and wanna play .... thats all isnt it ....I have a feeling this might be outback American where there's not much else to do .... I feel loneliness in every line ...