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You don't know that

Tuesday 3/26/24

"We only have one life to live."

You don't know that. You couldn't possibly know that.

I've noticed that when some women become mothers or get their real estate license, it's not uncommon for them to then think of themselves as these all-knowing celestial elders of the universe. It is very strange. Their attitude is that you are to listen while they educate you about the true nature of very big things that you would be incapable of knowing without them. What productive fun.

I hear something of the late Brahms in Ives.

I love that there are moors in Rockport and up in Cape Ann.

It seems like there should be a very word describing the sound that metal spoons make against ceramic mugs and saucers. Spram?

Saw someone asking yesterday if there was a sitcom where the people lived in a single-story home. Of course, I immediately thought of The Golden Girls.

A prompt comes up each time I go to write an entry on here asking me if I'd like AI to write the title or the entry itself. People already have nothing to say--let alone anything intelligent--but now they cede the task of using words over to AI. You have all of these dumb women--and I'm sure you have all of these dumb men, too, but I don't look at their profiles--on dating site using AI to write their profiles. Hey, why be alive at all? Why bother being you? Get a computer to be you. How can people fail to see that this is how machines take over, and they're doing it?

In Tales of the Texas Rangers, the word "night" is used as a verb and I quite like this. "We'll night here."


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