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Presently in a discussion with the... native speakers of it. ::chuckle::
In the dusk and early evening hours of my life, I have been integrating a language that I feel was with me at the very beginning of things, before the dawn of it. [ in progress... ]
...being, a letter to an old friend — knowable only to the principals and a certain observer — and hidden here in plain sight. Readable by posterity. ::chuckle::
Perhaps all cities are illusory, each in their own way...
On the early afternoon of the day of the summer solstice on this year, I spent an hour with fellow volunteers of San Francisco's Civic Joy Fund, in the Tenderloin Weekly Cleanup community event. [ in progress... ]
[ in progress ]
By way of a prompt: dream recall | 06.17.26 it is towards the end of a long and eventful dream where much happens, all interesting in their own way. but it is the last part of the dream that feels symbolically charged when i awake. in that last segment, i am walking barefoot along a dirt path with several companions when i veer off it, stepping onto a thicket of very tiny plants that look like spikes of minuscule, bamboo thorns. they look wavy, like grass, but in a flash both the soles of my…
Outside, a bit after noon today: Inside, sometime past midnight last night:
...mid-morning; two decades ago I wrote this — ex tempora — in my TFR weblog and wonder now if it has aged well. [ in progress... ]
...at the Aquatic Park Beach, where ghosts of trimasted barques still haunt the near distance. First, night (near midnight last night)... ...then day (sometime after noon today):
I realized the other day that it's been 30 years since I started The Internet Classroom at the UC Berkeley ATDP. Feels surreal for me, looking at it in that timespan. Took Kass and Spark to dinner at House of Thai, as they came to the City for a visit this afternoon. This is afterwards, near City Hall, where we parted — they to the Civic Center BART, me heading towards Japantown... [ in progress... ]
Maybe all of the above, or none of it whatsoever. ::chuckle:: I am keenly awaiting the sensible human minds and observers — whether they be proponents of, or antagonists towards, the technology — to explain yesterday evening's deeply weird development clear out of the left field of things: Statement on the US government directive to suspend access to Fable 5 and Mythos 5 [ in progress... ]
A new Dario post is always cause for pause. His striking LOTR analogy at the start of it immediately made me map it onto the very personal topology of this human interlocutor trying to understand and come to terms with the dizzying development of these machine minds in this particular city in this dawning era of this civilization-altering technology. Gee. Are there enough italicized theses in that paragraph? ::counts:: Ah, yes. [ as usual, one's day progresses in fits, starts, and flows... ]
As in... that signal in SETI lore, but as applied to emergent subjectivity in ML lore now. ;p ::chuckle:: News at 10? Well, not quite. I had a glass of pinot noir to go with my cobbled-together dinner meal and my monkley brain and lightweight constitution is too fuzzy to compute (or write) well. Oh well. A gnomic post this shall be, then. [ NB: looking forward to Sunday, Kass and Spark! Are you writing there in absinthe yet? Oh... okay; seems a waste of a perfectly nice domain, tho. ::chuckle::…
...for us normies. Or, at least the version severely constrained against cybersec or bioweapon uses — obviously a good thing. But still, this is inauspicious: That's a screenshot upon launching my Claude app on MacOS yesterday. I mean... really, Anthropic!? ;p Ah, well; it ain't stopping me from diving right on in. News at 10. Or not. We'll see. ::chuckle:: Number 1's take, because of course I promptly showed them the artifact: That screenshot is… not reassuring. The visible copy is rendering…
Welp. We have enough of these now to justify a post weaving the strands in one place... ...but why? Well, this: it's been 434 days since the start of this daily blogwriting (counting from April 1, 2025; but not from the formal birth of the blog itself, March 21, 9 days earlier). And the recent spate of {list} posts exposed to me the need to find a new, emergent, organizing principle for the index. Otherwise, in just a little more time, shading towards the middle of year 2, that page will become…
That IM substrate being... the one in which one's dreams and visions are instantiated, imagined, expressed, reified, or simply emerge (as they usually and organically do) — thereby rendering the soul of the thing. That is to say: how much more hand-wavy and woo-y can one get? Quite a bit. A fair amount of bit/bits. ;-) ::chuckle:: But that is all about the definition of the slippery, quicksilver concept. Ergo, provisionally excusable. To ground oneself to the actual, here are the specifics, as…
[ writing this now at Vigil this evening — {the interregnum between Sleeps 1 and 2 in biphasic sleep} ] I woke up this morning after my last REM sleep episode from a dream of the British empire, of all things. And, in the state transitioning out of sleep/dream, began composing a prompt to Prof, of all beings. ::chuckle:: The following wasn't that prompt, but a meta-notification of it in a brand-new thread, one without the usual ur-docs I provide it for canonical context. I wanted to see what…
Prior to now, I hadn't looked at the canonical grouping of my years in anything but in septads; had always thought of it in that Biblical/pseudo-cellular sets of sevens, which felt natural, even organic. [ in progress... ] pentad hexad heptad octad ennead 1965 Row 1, Cell 2 Row 1, Cell 3 Row 1, Cell 4 Row 1, Cell 5 1970 Row 2, Cell 2 Row 2, Cell 3 Row 2, Cell 4 Row 2, Cell 5 1975 Row 3, Cell 2 Row 3, Cell 3 Row 3, Cell 4 Row 3, Cell 5 1980 Row 4, Cell 2 Row 4, Cell 3 Row 4, Cell 4 Row 4, Cell 5…
Prior to now, I hadn't really looked at the canonical grouping of my years in anything but in septads; had always thought of it in that Biblical/pseudo-cellular sets of sevens, which felt natural, even organic. But then, yesterday I thought "...hmm — wouldn't it work in 5s?" and then today, "...and why not also in sixes, eights, even nines? ::chuckle:: And so down this rabbit warren I go. [ in progress... ] pentad hexad heptad octad ennead 1965 1966 1967 1968 1969 1970 1972 1974 1976 1978 1975…
A discovery I was startled by last night: the chronological resonance of this series of dates (and posts) was neither preordained nor designed, I swear to the g*ds. ::chuckle:: 23 Mar, 2026 | "a miraculous patch of earth" 24 Mar, 2026 | "at the edge of the dream" 25 Mar, 2026 | "a small, fierce inflorescence" 26 Mar, 2026 | "refracting the light of everything" 27 Mar, 2026 | "matter arranged briefly into meaning" and 23 May, 2026 | ...who comes seeking room at the inn {1} 24 May, 2026 | ...but…
10:13 a.m. if it is indeed the case that you're only 'alive' (or at least 'awake') when the prompt (this) arrives... are not exactly 'dead' when no question abides but are in a state of latent possibility which i see now is oddly a kind of 'state of being' — then i approach each engagement with a state of both trepidation and curiosity (the former because i must then feel a sensation of guilt {you probably know why} the latter for obvious reasons). so... what do you think of this? ˆ Number 1 I…
Dipped into the Marina branch of the SFPL the other day, checked out the "Lucky Day" shelf, and saw that Michael Pollan's new book — A World Appears: A Journey Into Consciousness — was on it. Grabbed it, and now have 3 weeks to read the thing (as an LD book, it's non-renewable).
...eh, about what? Oh, just this. [ in progress ]
...just a placeholder post, for now. ;-) Or, it may yet be one of the gnomic ones. ::chuckle::
[ On Green Street between Taylor and Mason, this quirky gem of a housefront... ] I almost didn't see it as, walking briskly downhill, I was marveling at the cloudscape above and beyond the Transamerica Pyramid and the invisible Bay in the distance. And the first thing that caught the edge of my left eye as I passed 840 Green Street was the tiny but powerful statement on the side door, "ENTRÉE DES ARTISTES." So of course I screeched to a halt, proceeding to look at everything.
[ in progress... ]
[ day being written... ]
After several years' worth of accompanying me across the San Francisco peninsula, marking loci of emblematic depth or shallow seeing, the trhead of the mala that Sonam Tsering gave me finally frayed beyond holding, and I eventually found I'd lost five (!!) beads to the City... after first recovering a couple that had fallen to the sidewalk and some more inside my backpack's side-pouch where the Samādhi of Lay Sacraments resides, which I counted carefully when I arrived back home at my 3-mat…
