today’s book is the voluminous Palo Alto by Malcolm Harris
having a baaaad bpd week. oscillating between deleting all my social accounts or instead becoming ‘a posting/reply guy’.
I live in the United States of America, North America.
“how’s your week going, Beehaw”?
My week is going shit, deeper into Hell every day since March 2013.
Here in USA people are so addicted to fiction bullshit, falsehoods, fake garbage, artificial intelligence sludge, Donald Trump entertainment fiction storytelling, it is hell deeper and deeper digging every hour of every day. Social media ate my nation’s face.
My week is worse than last week as it has been every day since March 2013 when it all started.
today’s book is the voluminous Palo Alto by Malcolm Harris
“stirred up nationalist sentiment among Anglo settlers in Alta California, implying (but not declaring) that he was” ― Malcolm Harris, Palo Alto: A History of California, Capitalism, and the World
Denial Abounds in July 2025, denial of:
“Education is neither Eastern nor Western, it is human.” ― Malala Yousafzai, I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban
October 8, 2013
October 7, 2023 Palestine Terrorism was a decade later
Social media users are too chicken-shit coward without bravery
To repeat Malala every 18 hours since October 8, 2013
You All Social Media had TEN YEARS, DECADE, to Asset Malala.Show your evidence you stood up for women / girls / child marriage / humanism and repeated Malala in those 10 years.
“stirred up nationalist sentiment” ― Malcolm Harris
Yha, Flag Waving people don’t wish to listen to Malala Yousafza saying Eastern Western Global Pale Blue Dot issues of education learning for the entire Human Race / Globe.
Someone on the town crew was out with the boom flail mower, mowing on the sides of the road. Ostensibly, it’s to keep the drainage channels clear and to reduce plants from reaching out into the road. Guy mowed my entire front row of ferns, skipped some lilies, then mowed down my flowering and decorative grasses. At one point, he must have lifted the boom to avoid an Iris, but then brought it back down on another flowering grass in the middle of my front gardens. They’ll survive, but my front garden is going to look destroyed for a few weeks at least while they recover.
In more positive news, we had some friends and their son visit on Sunday. My wife took the other ladies around to walk in the gardens at one point while I was cooking - I found out later that we’re part of the inspiration for some folks who are looking to start a sober living space!
Mega contrast of social interactions. Now nearly for 2 months I needed a lot of alone time reflecting and collecting myself after a breakup…
Then this week is suddenly mega full where I’m attending my first career convention, meeting tons of new people at the same time having a blast talking about tech stuff. None of my (IRL) friends are into tech, so it feels nice to talk to someone on the same wavelength there.
Then also this week, looking for apartments, also meeting new people in that scope too…
Then ALSO this week I’m getting visited by 2 friends in the weekend…
Just… oh my god… I guess I’m finally finding myself back on track where things should be. But damn the contrast is so hard I can’t stop smiling both internally and externally
Yesterday my wife and I went to my best friend’s place. Our old friend, a neuroscientist formally pursuing her postdoc in Texas before all science lost its funding is staying with my best friend now. We ate Taco Bell, smoked weed, read Homestuck and cursed the government by candlelight. Is this community building?
So far, so meh. Talked with my mom yesterday and got an update about how my dad is doing in his nursing home. Apparently badly, as he’s been banned from the dining room for spitting up food on his way out and refusing to use a napkin.
Sorta feels like the endgame. In lighter news, mom realized she’d sent half the expected amount to start the month, so I live to eat another day. It’s so weird, being accustomed to having all manner of food in the pantry in a previous life, to realize that there really isn’t anything left.
I turn 46 on Friday, but I have nothing to celebrate.
