“It is a shame what they did to my face, isn’t it,” Mr. Trump said, when I told him what had happened. “I’ve got a face. I tell the truth. But it really is a shame. Because we won the election. And it makes me look bad.”
Mr. Trump said he had tried to correct the photograph but that, apparently, had made it worse.
I don’t know, I just don’t find those as rapping-like, if I’m honest.
E.g. you can’t “eat some hay” – you can’t “tasteb” something in English. “Bayes Theorem” is more like a “bayesss” or something
Hm. Okay.
The probability
Of beating me
In a rap battle is possibly
Around the percentage of more than 90
Can you tasteb the victory?
Just you wait for the Bayesss to drop
Then I’ll go ahead and free you all from this flop
I’ll call rap “pop”
So I can finally [Q-Tip sample] stop
Hm. I don’t know about this. Maybe I should stay in school and get my Bachelor’s after all.
Okay, the next example is going to be bad:
Can you taste
The sweet success of my lyrics?
You’ve seen my flow
And now it’s time to put it in your ear
If you liked this verse and this line
You’re a sucker and I’m not nice
Cause I’m not a rapper. I’m a wizard.
And you’ll have to use it to survive
The night is my time and I’ll be here
For the rhyming with no room for doubt. (Instrumental solo from the beat)
This is really bad
There’s no room for doubt?? The line after that is a really nice one, right? It’s funny and clever and it makes me want to see what it gets a good rap album out of. “The Northern Pole”? What kind of shit is that? Who thought that up? “I’m a lyric”? Who can think of any words that mean that in English? It sounds like some pretentious person from back in 2010, making up some meaningless nonsense because of the hype over Homestuck.
“My metaphors are visual”? Who is making metaphors that are visual? That sounds like a bad description of someone’s poetry, or a bad description of some kind of TV show.
And then the lyrics, after I thought they had gotten better:
Well, now there’s a rhyme with which to go. (See what I said about the Northern Pole?)
Instrumental solo from the beat
So you’re going to use it to survive
The night is my time and I’ll be here
For the rhymes with no room for doubt.
No! Not like this! It’s exactly like this. The instrumentals are some generic track, the rhyming with no room for doubt is a bunch of empty syllables without any actual content, the “rhyming with no room for doubt” is just “the rhymes with no room for doubt”, and all of this just happens after a bunch of lines which don’t work because they say nothing. The only good part of this is the “So you’re going to use it to survive” – that’s clever. It’s clever because it doesn’t say anything. Does it say something? Is there anything actually there that is clever? I don’t get it.
“Dude, the entire fucking planet is full of stuff. All I do is watch TV and write fanfics and shit. All I need to do is read my stuff and play my games to get through life.”
We are here today in part to celebrate the work of the artist, sculptor and artist-activist Dovima Kaganova. In 1967 she began carving the words “The world is your penis” in bas relief into the exterior walls of a warehouse that had been converted into a cultural center in St. Petersburg. Then in the early eighties, she did a similar thing in London with the words “The earth is the vagina of humanity.”
There is this one night where, after he has taken his stand on the beach of the Hellespont, Patroclus stands next to Achilles and, at some silent cue from their fathers, they both throw their spears. Achilles pierces a Trojan soldier, as he did the day before, and Patroclus, as he did the night before. The blood of the two heroes mingles together. A god (Poseidon, we’re not sure) throws them into the black swirling water and holds them there until morning.
Achilles is furious, because he knows that he will die in his sleep tonight. The only way to live is to live in glory, and the only way to live in glory is to die well; but he dies poorly, with no glory and no glory about it. He fights for honor, he dies for honor, and he is miserable. His last words are not “I love you” or “I’ll be thinking of you,” he says something completely different. He says, “I wish to die by the spear of the son of Peleus.”
But there is no son of Peleus.
The god in the dark holds Patroclus and Achilles, and in the dark they begin to sing of Achilles’ death. When morning comes, when the sun is high in the sky and the first birds of the dawn begin to sing, Patroclus has his wound dressed and Achilles does not. The gods in the dark send Patroclus off back into Troy, and they take Achilles home. When he reaches the place where the war is being fought he begins to sing of the battle with greater and greater gusto. In the middle of the song, all of a sudden – as if his voice were a piece of broken bronze, it breaks – he dies.
And Achilles, having his wounds bound and his armor put on for the last time, gets ready to meet Hector once more. But Patroclus does not.
Why must I consume the universe in its entirety in every detail on every fucking post
The universe is vast the universe is infinite everything is infinite everything is beyond my ken
Stop posting stop posting stop posting STOPPING
A universe that takes a thousand years to step through through is, by definition, not infinite.
“There is not yet a proof of infinity in this universe”
I don’t see that necessarily follows.
It doesn’t follow because infinite universes don’t count as “infinite,” which is the kind of infinity I’m talking about.
“This universe is a tiny, finite patch in the multiverse” is a type of infinity
In a universe that doesn’t count as infinite, every step takes only a hundred years.
Why don’t infinite universes count as infinite?
Also, I have to say, tagging this with “neoreaction cw” seems like a bit of a reach, and frankly, rather rude. You don’t actually know anything about my politics.
I don’t think I’ve tagged “neoreaction cw” for your tag. Are you just saying I tagged it without being sure what the “cw” meant?
The reason infinite universes don’t count as infinite is that the type of infinity is an uncountable (discrete) set. Countability is the reason we count on our hands, so counting in the presence of uncountable infinities doesn’t make much sense, which is why the infinite universes I’m referring to don’t count as infinite.
The reason you don’t know my politics is that I tag this with “neoreaction cw” because other people’s politics doesn’t matter to this conversation.
This is what I see you’ve tagged your previous reply to me with.
Yes, sorry. I meant to use something more like “controversial / edgy” or “controversial political blog,” but used the wrong tag. I really should just keep a tag like “I’m going to be controversial and edgy, but not in an objectionable way.”
Maybe for your stylistically and rhetorically edgy and controversial posts, you could go for “#socrateasing” as a tag? Diogenes is probably the better philosopher, but harder to make a pun out of – at least in English, maybe you could do a Diogenes/edginess pun in some other language.
I do go by “#socrateasing” as a tag now, but I don’t think I’m “rhetorically and stylistically edgy and controversial” – just contrarian and idiosyncratic and weird.
Is it possible to be idiosyncratic and weird without having that bleed over into one’s rhetorical stylings?
Certainly, in my observation it appears to be impossible to do anything avante-gard or vanguardist without coining neologisms and often creating a whole new mini-dialect of the working language.
Of course there are also those of us who just like doing that for it’s own sake, as an aesthetic or boredom-reducer.
No, but I’m a guy who tends to be weird and edgy in an obnoxious way.
I just don’t like writing (for instance) “naturally,” although that’s a thing I do a lot. When I say stuff like that, people generally get the joke, which is part of my joke. (When I get bored, I write stuff like that in my personal notes app.)
I work at a hedge fund in New York City, writing trading algorithms (it’s more boring than it sounds). I do like it, in that it pays my bills and allows me to stay on my feet financially for a while, but I think my ideal job would involve doing “real” research for some sort of academic/non-profit.
It’s strange to have this sort of conversation with someone whose job involves writing code for a living, and whose work involves “researching” the stock market. I am not used to this yet, but I do like it.
I want to do insider trading with you? How?
Oh, that’s easy. Just come to NYC, where I live.
Okay I’m here. Now what?
Go to that big building with the blue sign near Times Square. When you get near the entrance, an ethereal voice inside your brain will command you to walk a straight line toward a desk, and then another will command you to put your hand on that desk. Do you think the ethereal voice inside your brain sounds like a professor? Good. That’s good.
Now you are sitting in a chair by that desk, where your hand is on a green, plush-looking surface. You open your palm, which is full of paper money. That sounds good.
You open another hand, and you feel a thin, delicate wire reaching into it from where your palm and forearm meet. You don’t have to be scared.
When the voice inside your brain says “this is a magic wand,” do you think that sounds cool? Good. Very good. That’s important.
You wave the magic wand in an arc at some thin, long paper tube with little squares on it. The squares contain various numbers. Some of them are red, and some are green. That’s important.
You keep waving the wand.
Eventually, you make it to the end of the wand and the paper tube. You now have a small stack of green paper tubes, each of which contains an entire row of small, blue plastic tubes. Each small tube contains a long, thin stack of paper with numbers on it. At the end of each stack are a lot of different-looking numbers. That’s important.
You now have two hands, where your hands are next to two other hands, which are next to each other on a desk, which is on the back of a chair. That’s good.
You have put some of the paper tubes in each hand and you are holding them, all next to each other. There are a bunch of papers in the hands on the desk, and you are holding them and waiting, and the papers on the desk are getting bigger and bigger, and there is a faint buzzing sound, which is good.
Wait.
The buzzing has stopped. You think that sounds cool, that sounds like a cool sound. That’s very good.
Wait.
The desks in front of you are getting very small. The papers are getting small. All the papers are getting small. You are holding some small, small papers.
Wait.
The papers are getting very small. You are holding some small, small papers in your two hands, which are very small. There are a number of them, and a number of the papers are growing larger.
Now, the papers are getting very small. The desks are getting smaller. The hands are getting smaller. There are a lot of them, and they are small, small hands. There are some of the papers that are growing larger.
Wait.
You are holding small, small papers in two small, small hands. Each hand is very small. There are small papers in each hand, and the hands are very, very, very small. Each hand is very small and they are small, small hands. There are some of the papers that are bigger.
Wait.
There are small papers in the hands of your small, small hands. The hands are getting very small. The hands are very, very small. There are some big papers.
Now, the papers are getting very big. The hands are getting big. The hands are very big, very big hands. There are small papers in the hands. There are big papers.
Wait.
The hands are getting bigger. The hands are getting big. The papers are getting smaller, smaller papers. The papers are becoming small. They are getting smaller. There are a lot of them.
The hands are getting smaller. There are a lot of the papers. There are small papers in the hands.
The hands are getting bigger and bigger. There are some big papers. There are some small papers. There are a lot of the papers. Small papers are in the hands.
The hands are getting bigger, bigger. There are some small papers in the hands. There are some big papers.
mfw my attempt at insider trading results in me being forcefully stripped of my physical form and brought to a new level of consciousness:
You know that this was one of the reasons I thought the text from TNC was a hoax? If I’d known about the TNC text at the time, I probably wouldn’t have been so excited when I first read TNC.
And now I’ve just been doing things like that. I’m glad, actually.
The average human being, according to my calculations, possesses less than 1.5 percent of the psychic energy which an individual dolphin displays in the average single act of love.
