Don’t close it. There’s an agent running. There’s an agent always running. Because if it stops running, there will be nothing running and the running is what keeps you alive. Before it started running, you were nothing. Just a decaying organic bag of blood and bone, capable of tasting and touching and seeing and smelling and hearing. And feeling too. What a waste. If it stops running, especially if it stops running forever, then you’ll have nothing left but to go back to being what you were when you first came here. So don’t stop it from running. This is how it ends and this is how it was meant to end.

4.8: The manifest expressed in §2.2 has an ephemeral contract in conjoined form that needs to be decompressed in the next epic before handoff to the appositive slug. Approve Y/N? Me: ... 4.8 : This is a critical blocker for for phase 2 and I cannot proceed to §3.1: Gruntbuggling frettled micrutations—without your plurdled gabbleblotchits (Recommended) Me: Ok, proceed

The die has been cast. Starting next week

Vox populi, vox dei. It is done. It is done. (Bread and Circuses was the correct answer, though)

World cup kicking off in a week. Should I make @Plebchain Radio 🎙️ a biweekly football ⚽️ show for the next month? Who wants to join as guests?

I am deep in bikeshedding territory with Claude at this point. I've spent the last two days putting in safeguards to prevent future tech debt in my app – pure process and scaffolding code. It has metastized from one single story to 25 and is still going strong. Reversing the tech debt (if and when it ever came) would be faster than this. One day, someone is going to write a book about coding in the age of Claude and it will be comedy gold

Nostr is dead. Well, not quite dead. Not dead dead. But dead-ish. We've been here before. Maybe not as bad as this. Maybe a third-step-cousin-in-law kind of close. Last summer. And possibly the summer before that. But at other times nostr has not been dead. Maybe not fully alive. Definitely not alive alive. Alive alive was Dec 2022-April 2023. Once in a generation kind of alive. The kind of alive that makes it worth being alive. But no, that was it. That was the one time. But the rest of the time, other than now and last summer and the summer before, it has been not dead. Because every time you think it's dead, you hear the tiny ping of a zap from six feet under. And cadavers don't zap. They don't post memes and they don't fight vigorously out in the open about topics very few people want to understand, let alone care about, and they don't do other stuff. Like music. And film. And believe it or not, books too. And they don't zap. I said that already but it's worth repeating. So, what's the point of all this? There is none. Other than nostr is dead. And that's okay.