Aldin

I saw fatso south indian workers cooking together. Exclusively frying on seed oil heated up to the point of burning and smoking.

I belive that we can train our sense for esthetics and beauty - to recognize good art. Actively trying to pay more attention and notice beauty trains the muscle. #artstr #art

I love 2021 distopian art https://cdn.nostrcheck.me/d92bd7cd01d27fb5dca7175e5b97b732fa3f858753c1bcadf491cf3d7c596a90.mp4 #TV

tough times may come

I saw a homeless nest today. A scavenged tent and a matrace next to it. Interesting about it was the location. It was under a busy road bridge, right next to a bike/pedestrian path. Imediately obvious was that he could have easily picked a better place. Some unmaintained bushes, or edge of a forest, or some abandoned ruin. Hunderd better spots in a walking distance from this one, all of them with less noise, cleaner, less dangerous, with softer ground, closer to water source, etc. But I guess that living under a bridge is what we call being homeless. So that is where be put it. He fell for the meme.

# Less cunning Some less inteligent individuals are likeable in a way that the inteligent ones cannot be. Their virtues are simpler and more straight forward. Easy to spot, and the chance that they are a mere act is much lower. Also their vices are more obvious. Be it a basic jelousy or impulsive agression, it is right there for you to see. On the other hand, the inteligent person can be an entagled riddle, full of complexity and hidden contradictions.

Friendly reminder that your business partners, your relatives and friends, acountants and advisors, coleages and bureacrats are handling data in the most retarded way. Contracts, pictures, scans of IDs are uploaded to google drive, carried around in laptops on unencrypted drives, and eventually they are all left sitting in a no longer used machine, which will inevitably be accessible to some random guy.

LLMs may be the best tool to study our civilization for those who have never encountered it

That Europe has been conquered by the American Empire must be obvious to anyone willing to look at the map objectively, though it may cause an offense when stated blutly like this. Interestingly, the empire has a stronger grasp on the minds of people in its European provinces than it has domestically with all their rebelious groups and twenty different branches of the "right wing". And perhaps it can only be one of these that will succeed in leading towards a better future. Because I think that we Europeans do not have the balls to attempt anything radical.

# We who are homeless ## Friedrich Nietzsche, Joyful Wisdom (1882) Among Europeans today there is no lack of those who are entitled to call themselves homeless in a distinctive and honorable sense: it is to them that I especially commend my secret wisdom and gaya scienza. For their fate is hard, their hopes are uncertain; it is quite a feat to devise some comfort for them—but what avail? We children of the future, how could we be at home in this today? We feel disfavor for all ideals that might lead one to feel at home even in this fragile, broken time of transition; as for its “realities,” we do not believe that they will last. The ice that still supports people today has become very thin; the wind that brings the thaw is blowing; we ourselves who are homeless constitute a force that breaks open ice and other all too thin “realities.” We “conserve” nothing; neither do we want to return to any past periods; we are not by any means “liberal”; we do not work for “progress”; we do not need to plug up our ears against the sirens who in the market place sing of the future: their song about “equal rights,” “a free society,” “no more masters and no servants” has no allure for us. We simply do not consider it desirable that a realm of justice and concord should be established on earth (because it would certainly be the realm of the deepest leveling and chinoiserie); we are delighted with all who love, as we do, danger, war, and adventures, who refuse to compromise, to be captured, reconciled, and castrated; we count ourselves among conquerors; we think about the necessity for new orders, also for a new slavery—for every strengthening and enhancement of the human type also involves a new kind of enslavement. Is it not clear that with all this we are bound to feel ill at ease in an age that likes to claim the distinction of being the most humane, the mildest, and the most righteous age that the sun has ever seen? It is bad enough that precisely when we hear these beautiful words we have the ugliest suspicions. What we find in them is merely an expression—and a masquerade—of a profound weakening, of weariness, of old age, of declining energies. What can it matter to us what tinsel the sick may use to cover up their weakness? Let them parade it as their virtue; after all, there is no doubt that weakness makes one mild, oh so mild, so righteous, so inoffensive, so “humane”! The “religion of pity” to which one would like to convert us—oh, we know the hysterical little males and females well enough who today need precisely this religion as a veil and make-up. We are no humanitarians; we should never dare to permit ourselves to speak of our “love of humanity”; our kind is not actor enough for that. Or not Saint-Simonist enough, not French enough. One really has to be afflicted with a Gallic excess of erotic irritability and enamored impatience to approach in all honesty the whole of humanity with one’s lust! Humanity! Has there ever been a more hideous old woman among all old women—(unless it were “truth”: a question for philosophers)? No, we do not love humanity; but on the other hand we are not nearly “German” enough, in the sense in which the word “German” is constantly being used nowadays, to advocate nationalism and race hatred and to be able to take pleasure in the national scabies of the heart and blood poisoning that now leads the nations of Europe to delimit and barricade themselves against each other as if it were a matter of quarantine. For that we are too openminded, too malicious, too spoiled, also too well informed, too “traveled”: we far prefer to live on mountains, apart, “untimely,” in past or future centuries, merely in order to keep ourselves from experiencing the silent rage to which we know we should be condemned as eyewitnesses of politics that are desolating the German spirit by making it vain and that is, moreover, petty politics: to keep its own creation from immediately falling apart again, is it not finding it necessary to plant it between two deadly hatreds? must it not desire the eternalization of the European system of a lot of petty states? We who are homeless are too manifold and mixed racially and in our descent, being “modern men,” and consequently do not feel tempted to participate in the mendacious racial self-admiration and racial indecency that parades in Germany today as a sign of a German way of thinking and that is doubly false and obscene among the people of the “historical sense.” We are, in one word—and let this be our word of honor—good Europeans, the heirs of Europe, the rich, oversupplied, but also overly obligated heirs of thousands of years of European spirit. As such, we have also outgrown Christianity and are averse to it—precisely because we have grown out of it, because our ancestors were Christians who in their Christianity were uncompromisingly upright: for their faith they willingly sacrificed possessions and position, blood and fatherland. We—do the same. For what? For our unbelief? For every kind of unbelief? No, you know better than that, friends! The hidden Yes in you is stronger than all Nos and Maybes that afflict you and your age like a disease; and when you have to embark on the sea, you emigrants, you, too, are compelled to this by—a faith!