In Summary: * Listening now to the Flagship Station for IU Sports ahead of tonight's game with my Indiana Hoosiers vs the Northwestern Wildcats at IU's Assembly Hall in Bloomington, Indiana. This game is the last item on my day's agenda. That, and wrapping up my night prayers. Then I'll be putting these old bones to bed

Prayers, etc.: * I have a daily prayer regimen I try to follow throughout the day from early morning, as soon as I roll out of bed, until head hits pillow at night. Details of that regimen are linked to my link tree, which is linked to my profile page here.

Starting Ash Wednesday, 2026, I'll add this daily prayer as part of the Prayer Crusade Preceding the SSPX Episcopal Consecrations.

Health Metrics: * bw= 227.63 lbs. * bp= 140/83 (62)

Exercise: * morning stretches, balance exercises, kegel pelvic floor exercises, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups

Diet: * 06:15 – fruit pastry * 08:05 – 1 peanut butter sandwich, 1 banana * 12:45 – cooked meat, stuffed dumplings * 15:15 – 1 fresh apple

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 04:00 – listen to local news talk radio * 05:00 – bank accounts activity monitored * 05:20 – read, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, and nap * 15:20 – listen to KONO 101.1 * 17:00 – tune into the streaming feed for The Flagship Station for IU Sports ahead of tonight's game

Chess: * 11:00 – moved in all pending CC games

I woke up to the news that the Tin Building had closed. The day was a surprise, but it was well known that the food hall at the Seaport was not doing well. We loved the Tin Building. It was a swanky celebration of everything that tastes good, with multiple bars, restaurants, and shops. You walked in and found yourself in a different world. A luxury cruise ship would be a good comparison, and that was fine with us. Alas, early last year, the vibe changed. Some venues, like the vegetarian restaurant, were closed or “merged.” When we wanted to buy fish for dinner, we found an empty bed of ice at the fish store. In summer, I was looking for lunch at the sandwich bar, but I was not too surprised to be redirected to the bakery for pre-made dishes. There were financial reasons for all of this, but it’s hard to shrink your way to greatness if luxury and abundance are what you’re after. Thanks to everybody who made this place such a delightful experience and always gave us a friendly welcome.

There are moments in life when a truth so simple, so pure, so deeply rooted in the heart of God finally rises to the surface after being buried under layers of human expectation, and it feels like a spiritual breath of fresh air. One of those truths, perhaps more needed today than ever, is the undeniable reality that God does not look at your clothing when you walk into a church. God is not scanning the cut of your jacket or the crease in your pants or the brand name embroidered on your shirt. God is not weighing your holiness against the value of your shoes or the sparkle of your jewelry. That entire system of judgment, that entire obsession with outward polish, is something humanity built brick by brick over centuries until the Church in many places began to reflect cultural pride far more than the radical welcome of Jesus Christ. And so the person who only owns a t-shirt and shorts begins to feel unworthy. The single mother who has not bought new clothing in three years begins to feel invisible. The young man who works night shifts and comes straight from his job feels ashamed because his clothes are stained with the reality of his life. Yet Scripture after Scripture reveals a God who moves toward such people effortlessly, joyfully, instinctively, because He has never been impressed with outward appearance; He is drawn to sincerity, hunger, and willingness. The tragedy is not that some people show up to church wearing ordinary clothes. The tragedy is that some churches have forgotten what Jesus celebrated most: honest, uncomplicated, unfiltered hearts that dare to come as they are.

When we look at the life of Jesus, we see Him surrounded by fishermen who smelled like the sea, tax collectors who were despised by society, women who carried the stigma of their past, and laborers whose clothing would never pass any modern Sunday morning “dress code.” None of them walked with religious presentation. None of them dressed to impress. None of them tried to look holy. They simply came when He called. They followed when He invited. They listened when He taught. And Jesus never corrected their appearance; He corrected their hearts. He never adjusted their clothing; He adjusted their perspective. He never told them to elevate their outer image; He told them to elevate their inner posture. That is the Gospel that has been preached from the beginning—the God who welcomes you fully and completely before you ever change a thing about the outside. And so, when someone in a modern church gives a side-eye, a judgmental glance, or a thinly veiled critique of someone else’s clothing, it reveals far more about their spiritual immaturity than the supposed “inappropriateness” of the person they are judging. Because judging clothing is a sign that someone has forgotten the heart of the Gospel, forgotten the compassion of the Savior, and forgotten the way Jesus moved among the common, the ordinary, and the overlooked with no hesitation whatsoever.

There is something deeply damaging that happens when people begin to believe that they need nicer clothes to be accepted in a church. It creates a false spiritual economy that values the external and neglects the internal. It communicates to the poor, the weary, the broken, and the financially struggling that their presence is somehow less spiritual, less respectable, or less welcome. It turns the house of God—meant to be a sanctuary for the soul—into a runway for comparison. And comparison is the enemy of community. When a church begins to operate by appearances instead of authenticity, the people who need God the most often feel the least welcomed. Yet Jesus built His ministry on the exact opposite. The woman at the well did not show up in anything special. The woman with the issue of blood pushed through a crowd without a polished appearance. Zacchaeus climbed a tree just to see Jesus—hardly the act of a man worried about looking respectable. And the thief on the cross had absolutely nothing to offer—not clothing, not status, not appearance—yet he received the promise of paradise simply because his heart turned toward Christ. So if we imagine that God requires a suit or a dress to welcome us, we have misunderstood the very foundation of grace.

I have always believed that the courage it takes for someone to walk into a church wearing the only clothes they own is far more sacred to God than someone walking in wearing expensive garments but carrying a closed, prideful heart. We do not know the backstory behind the person wearing jeans and a t-shirt. We do not know the quiet battles behind the person wearing worn-out sneakers. We do not know the sacrifices behind the person who only owns a handful of shirts and rotates them week to week. But God knows. And God honors what no one else sees. He honors the person who barely made it through the week but still showed up. He honors the one who felt out of place but came anyway. He honors the one who heard His whisper to come home and chose not to let shame be louder than His invitation. This is why judging someone’s clothing is one of the most spiritually shallow acts a believer can commit. It is also why Jesus consistently cautioned people about focusing on the outside of the cup while ignoring the inside. When your heart is aligned with God’s, you welcome people with open arms, not measuring who deserves grace but celebrating the fact that every soul that walks through the door is a miracle of God’s drawing power.

There is a quiet truth tucked inside this: the Church was never meant to be a museum of polished saints. It was meant to be a home for people who need God in real, raw, imperfect ways. And homes do not require dress codes. Families do not require formalwear. A child does not need to dress up to be welcomed at their father’s table. God is a Father, not a fashion critic. He is a healer, not an image consultant. He is a redeemer, not a stylist. And so the message of the Gospel is simple: come. Come with your burdens. Come with your exhaustion. Come with your fear. Come with your uncertainty. Come with your wrinkled clothes and your worn-out shoes and your humble spirit. God is not evaluating the fabric on your body but the faith in your heart. And the church that understands this becomes a place where anyone—regardless of clothing, income, or appearance—can breathe, belong, worship, and grow without shame hanging over their heads.

But here is the part people are often afraid to say out loud: not every church carries the spirit of Jesus. Some carry the spirit of culture, class, and comparison. Some carry the spirit of elitism rather than the spirit of welcome. Some have forgotten the dusty roads Jesus walked with disciples who were anything but polished. And because of that, many believers have been wounded unnecessarily. They walked into a building hoping to find a family but instead found a silent jury. They hoped for grace but found critique. They hoped for acceptance but felt inspection. These moments cut deeply because they strike a place of vulnerability that people rarely admit. They make someone feel as though God Himself is disappointed in them, when in reality, it was merely a human opinion masquerading as righteousness. And when a church becomes a place where appearance is valued over authenticity, that church is not representing Christ but rather projecting its own insecurities onto others.

This is why I tell people without hesitation: if a church judges you based on your clothing, find another church. Not out of bitterness, not out of defiance, not out of rebellion, but out of wisdom. Your spiritual growth matters too much to be suffocated by someone else’s superficial standards. Your faith matters too much to be formed in a place that confuses appearance with holiness. Your walk with God matters too much to be shaped by the expectations of people who are more concerned with outward presentation than inward transformation. You deserve to be in a church that sees you the way Jesus sees you. You deserve to be in a place where you can worship without self-consciousness. You deserve to be surrounded by people who value substance over style, sincerity over spectacle, and humility over hierarchy. Because where God’s Spirit truly moves, people are embraced for who they are, not for what they wear.

There is a gentleness in the way God looks at us that we so often forget. When God sees you walk into church in a simple t-shirt and jeans, He does not see lack—He sees courage. He sees a heart that chose faith over fear. He sees a soul reaching for Him. He sees a willingness to come close even when life has been hard. And that moves the heart of God more deeply than any outward display ever could. God has never asked anyone to dress up to be loved. Grace does not require tailoring. Mercy does not require matching shoes. Redemption does not require accessories. What God requires is honesty, humility, and hunger. And if you walk through the doors with those, Heaven celebrates you in ways no human eye can see.

There is a reason Jesus said, “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened.” Not all who are stylish. Not all who are put together. Not all who are socially polished. All. Every single one. Every story, every background, every season, every struggle, every level of income, every expression of life. Churches that understand this become sanctuaries of healing. Churches that forget this become monuments of pride. And we are living in a time when many people no longer feel worthy to walk into a church because they have been wounded by Christians who forgot the heart of Christ. That must change. And it changes when we begin to speak clearly, boldly, compassionately, and unequivocally: God is looking at your heart, not your clothes. God is welcoming you as you are, not as society expects you to be. God measures the sincerity of your worship, not the price tag of your wardrobe.

When we step back and look at the heart of the Gospel, we see a God who has always been radically accessible. The shepherds who came to see Jesus at His birth were not finely dressed men; they were laborers, outsiders, considered unclean by religious standards. Yet Heaven invited them first. The demoniac set free in the region of the Gerasenes certainly did not show up in appropriate clothing, yet Jesus restored him completely. The disciples ate grain from the fields, walked dusty roads, slept outdoors, and lived with the messiness of real life on their clothing every day. Never once did Jesus rebuke them for failing to present a polished appearance. But He did rebuke the Pharisees for caring more about how they appeared than who they truly were. That divide still exists today in subtle ways. Churches that look clean on the outside but carry cold hearts on the inside. Believers who look polished but lack compassion. Communities that look structured but lack spiritual depth. And so the person wearing simple, humble clothing often carries more spiritual honesty than those who look the part but have forgotten the point.

Sometimes people assume that dressing nicely makes them more presentable to God, but the truth is that the most presentable thing you can ever bring into God’s house is a repentant heart. Holiness is not woven into fabric; it is cultivated in surrender. Reverence is not found in a suit; it is found in humility. Worship is not defined by garments; it is defined by truth and spirit. And none of these have anything to do with clothing. What God desires is authenticity. He desires the worship that rises from the depths of your life, not the surface of your appearance. He desires the faith that walks into a building knowing full well that people might judge you, but choosing Him anyway. God sees that bravery. God honors that boldness. God responds to the person who says, “Lord, this is all I have, but I’m giving You everything I’ve got.” That is worship. That is devotion. That is the essence of the Gospel, and no outfit can improve it, diminish it, or overshadow it.

We live in a world where outward displays often hide inward emptiness, and inward sincerity is often dismissed because it doesn’t look impressive from the outside. But God has never required impressiveness; He has required honesty. There are people dressed in expensive clothing who are spiritually starving. There are people dressed in inexpensive clothing who carry a fire in their soul that Heaven recognizes instantly. And if the church is going to be the representation of Christ on earth, it must learn to see people the way God sees them. It must learn to look past the layers of fabric and straight into the depth of a person’s heart. It must welcome the single father who worked night shifts all week and walked into church still wearing his work clothes. It must welcome the recovering addict who barely had the courage to show up at all. It must welcome the teenager who feels judged every time they enter a religious space. It must welcome the elderly woman whose clothing has worn thin because she gives away more than she keeps. These are the people Jesus honored in Scripture. These are the people the Spirit draws. These are the people who belong in the Church just as much as anyone else.

One of the most profound realities is that the person who feels most unworthy to step into a church often carries the greatest potential for transformation. Their humility positions them for grace. Their brokenness positions them for healing. Their simplicity positions them for genuine faith. God does not resist them; He runs toward them. And it should break our hearts whenever a church becomes a source of shame instead of refuge. When Jesus told the story of the prodigal son, the father’s welcome had nothing to do with what his son was wearing. The father did not inspect his rags. He did not comment on his appearance. He ran to him, embraced him, restored him, and celebrated him. That is the posture of God toward every person who comes home, regardless of their clothing, regardless of their condition, regardless of their story. The Church should echo that welcome with joy rather than judgment. Judgment builds walls. Grace builds homes. Pride pushes people away. Compassion pulls them close. And if a church forgets this, it ceases to be the reflection of Christ’s heart.

There are countless people who silently carry the fear of being looked down upon the moment they step into a church. They fear being evaluated. They fear being misunderstood. They fear being rejected for reasons that have nothing to do with their relationship with God. And when fear becomes the barrier, the enemy wins a victory that should never have been surrendered. Churches must tear down these false barriers one by one. They must remind people that clothing does not measure worth. Income does not measure holiness. Appearance does not measure salvation. The only measurement in the kingdom of God is the condition of a person’s heart. If we allow anything else to become a standard, we are adding burdens Jesus never placed on people. And the tragic irony is that while some are worried about how someone looks walking into the building, Heaven is rejoicing that they came at all.

The modern church has a responsibility to return to the simplicity of Christ’s welcome. There is power in a spiritual environment where people are free to show up exactly as they are. There is healing in spaces where the poor sit beside the wealthy without shame. There is transformation in congregations where the appearance of a person’s clothing is irrelevant compared to the posture of their spirit. And there is revival in communities where the judgmental spirit is replaced with the spirit of grace. Jesus never said, “Dress up and follow Me.” He said, “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.” Self-denial is not about clothing; it is about surrender. Carrying your cross is not about impressing people; it is about aligning your life with the heart of God. Following Him is not about being accepted by a community; it is about being transformed by His presence.

This is why telling someone to find a different church when they are judged by their clothing is not rebellion; it is discernment. God never intended His children to grow spiritually under the weight of shame. He never intended His people to be shaped by the opinions of the proud. He never intended His Church to push away those He died to save. If a church cannot welcome the poor, it has misunderstood the kingdom. If it cannot welcome the broken, it has misunderstood redemption. If it cannot welcome the ordinary, it has misunderstood grace. And if it cannot welcome someone based on clothing, it has misunderstood the heart of Christ entirely. God does not require you to dress up to be loved. He does not require you to pretend. He does not require you to perform. He requires your heart, and when you bring your heart, you bring Him the only offering He has ever truly asked for.

Many people will read this and feel a sense of relief, because deep down they have always believed that God could never love someone like them if they could not present themselves the way others do. But the Gospel says otherwise. The Gospel says God chose fishermen, farmers, tax collectors, widows, laborers, the poor, the overlooked, and the forgotten. He chose the ones society pushed aside. He chose the ones who had nothing special to offer. He chose the ones who wore the dust of life openly. And He built His kingdom on their backs. So do not ever believe that your clothing disqualifies you from God’s presence. Do not believe that your appearance affects your value. Do not believe that your outward image determines your inward worth. God sees the unseen parts of you. He sees the battles you fight, the fears you hide, the sacrifices you make. He sees the courage in your steps, the honesty in your worship, the longing in your spirit. You are welcome in His house, not because of what you wear, but because of who you are and who He is.

This world separates people into categories. It elevates those who appear successful and diminishes those who appear ordinary. But Jesus leveled the playing field by declaring that every person, regardless of background or appearance, is welcome at His table. And the table of Christ is long enough for everyone. When you walk into church wearing whatever you own, you are declaring something far more powerful than fashion. You are declaring that God is worthy of your presence even when you feel unpolished. You are declaring that faith is stronger than fear. You are declaring that your relationship with God is more important than the opinions of people. And Heaven honors that declaration every time. If people judge you, remember this truth gently: their judgment has no authority over your access to God. Their look has no power over your worship. Their opinion has no influence over your identity. You belong because God says you belong.

And as the Church continues to grow into the fullness of Christ, we must become more intentional about removing every barrier that keeps people from encountering God. We must practice the hospitality of Heaven instead of the preferences of culture. We must choose compassion over criticism, empathy over ego, and grace over grandeur. The most beautiful worship often rises from those who feel least qualified. The most sincere prayers often come from those who feel least impressive. The most powerful testimonies often come from those who walked into church wearing the simplest clothing but carrying the deepest hunger. Clothing does not matter. Appearance does not matter. The heart matters. Faith matters. Openness matters. Surrender matters. And these are the things that turn ordinary people into carriers of extraordinary grace.

So if you hear nothing else, hear this with clarity and comfort: God is not looking at your clothes. God is looking at your heart. He is looking at the courage it took for you to come. He is looking at the longing that pulled you through the door. He is looking at the hope still flickering inside you. You are welcome. You are received. You are celebrated. You are loved. Walk into church wearing whatever you can afford, whatever you own, whatever you are comfortable in. Walk in knowing that God rejoices over your presence. Walk in knowing that Heaven sees the beauty in your sincerity. And walk in with your head held high, because you are a child of God, and God’s house is your home.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

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And It's OK.

#blog You are not going to read random triggering goonbabble. I have reached a different point in my pornosexual journey. Goonbabble is good for likes, but everyone always takes pause when you lay things out real and really present gooning as an actual lifestyle. Not something you do and think you are good at because you are 'in the moment.'

Since 2023, my life took a major shift from my old self. My past traumas built up and broke me. I took a stand and said no to the things that hurt me. I was getting older. The traditions others cling to were not working for me. In fact, they were the very same systems that chipped away at me until nothing was left, and I caved in under my own stress.

When I began to rise as something new, I turned to porn and masturbation. I turned to gooning. It was a way to really help soothe the wounds and settle into what is important. I was able to find what is safe and what works for me. Over time, I was able to find all the pleasures I could never find or receive from another person.

It became a quest to remove all hints of duality. Finding balance with porn, finding balance with normie bullshit, and having them all swirl around and co-exist.

The end result is you get something raw and forward and open. Something unapologetic. But then I recently came to a core realization.

The blending and elimination of duality go both ways. It's not just about letting porn in. It's also letting yourself exist with porn. I'm still learning more about myself. I'm learning how I react to certain situations, my flaws as I interact with others, and what I should do to course correct.

This year I am taking a different path in my continued evolution. Aspects of my 'original' self and porn self are having honest negotiations, and things are slotting in a different way.

I can proudly say I'm not normal.

How I do things, how I say things, my viewpoints, my actions… they probably do not make much sense to anyone but me, and that's ok. I have always had my own way of doing things, my own flow, my own flavor. That never changed. That always stayed.

It shows in how I carry myself and how I interact with others.

I have a pretty narrow band of social compatibility. I look for certain types of interactions and conversations. I'm quick to filter out things that do not suit me in that avenue. I'm not just “saying no,” but I am curating an online persona where nonsense and low-level conversations do not thrive.

My message encouraging black women to sexually liberate themselves will always be true. But how it looks to others may not be liked, or even fully understood. I accept that. But I am solidifying an identity. I'm not “just another porn account.” There is thought in an action, what I do, and how I do it. And to fully realize that, I have to own my decisions and do things differently.

I am an artist. I create. I influence. The core of my creativity is porn, but what grows out of this is an ecosystem of writing, ambient music, and content curation for women who are rarely seen and fully understood.

A relatively recent discovery for me has been the writing of George Saunders. Less than two years ago I belatedly came around to reading his excellent novel Lincoln in the Bardo. Since then I've also read Liberation Day (his latest collection of short stories) and A Swim in a Pond in the Rain (his book about reading and writing short stories) — greatly enjoying them both. The other weekend I picked up a nominally signed copy of his new novel Vigil from Rossiter Books in Monmouth – in which the 'signature' resembles a monogram more than a fully written-out name. Now I've read that one too, finishing it on Sunday morning.

Like Lincoln in the Bardo its setting straddles the line between life and death. Vigil's protagonist is Jill Blaine, one of the departed, who has found a posthumous vocation in providing solace and guidance to those struggling with the hard work of dying. The book begins with her arrival at the home of her latest, and most challenging charge – former oil-company supremo K.J. Boone. Little does she know that others of her kind have their own axes to grind with the moribund patient. Unlike the earlier novel, this is a short book, running to only 172 pages. Saunders' mastery of short-form fiction is much in evidence in a narrative well-stuffed with telling details. For me it was another very satisfying read, though I did wonder if the story's moral dimension may have slightly inhibited some of its characterisation.

After that, I read Karin Tidbeck's novel The Memory Theater in just a couple of days. At 221 pages it is likewise fairly short. This is an idiosyncratic and inventive work of fantasy with elements of folklore and fairy-tale. If it weren't for all the violence one might recommend it to older children on account of its charming lightness of touch (of course some children might like it because of the violence). It kept me absorbed and entertained throughout. Interestingly, Tidbeck, who is Swedish, wrote it in English. The implied off-stage demise of its antagonist, the memorably callous Lady Augusta Prima, seemed to leave an opening for her potential return in a sequel.

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There have been a couple of new musical arrivals this week. On Friday a CD copy of Patricia Brennan's recent album Of The Near And Far arrived in the post. Her contribution on vibraphone to Mary Halvorson's ‘Amaryllis’ ensemble had impressed me, and led me to look for music with her name on it. I first bought her 2022 album More Touch. That one, however, I'd found pointily percussive in a way that tended to jangle my nerves, meaning I didn't listen to it often. What I'd caught of Of The Near And Far on-line suggested this newer album might be a more readily approachable one with some smoother surfaces. And, in general it is, though there are some more jagged moments too, especially on the track 'Andromeda'.

It's music apparently inspired by the night sky, with five of the seven tracks named after constellations and in various ways (explained in the booklet notes) musically inspired by them. As well as Brennan on vibes, there are parts for piano, guitar, bass, drums, live electronics and string quartet. Of the other musicians I was only hitherto familiar with the pianist Sylvie Courvoisier, whose album Chimaera I own. Both Courvoisier and Brennan are exponents of somewhat demanding jazz that is out toward the further edges of (and occasionally beyond) what I can enjoy. My mood isn't always right to sit down with this kind of thing, but, on the right day I do appreciate it. An example track: 'Aquarius'.

Left outside my door in the rain the following day a vinyl copy of the new album by The Olympians: In Search Of A Revival. Thankfully the record inside the wet cardboard was protected by plastic wrap. I'd come to the self-titled debut by the band only a few years ago, since when it's been one of the most frequent return visitors to my turntable. Here we have slices of more of the same only different – servings of high-quality backward-looking instrumental funk & soul that are a straightforward joy to hear. Hear, for example, ‘California’. Too often to buy new vinyl is to navigate a minefield of substandard pressings: I’ve had no such trouble with the Dap-Tone label and its offshoots, whose quality control I have found consistently first-rate.

The first of a series of Connie Caskett stories. She gets a job at the library…

The bell on the door of the Bethnal Green Public Library didn’t ding. It clunked. A heavy, sad sound, like a dropped brick.

Connie Caskett pushed through it. She was a riot of midnight. Black lipstick like crude oil, eyeliner thick enough to tarmac a driveway. Her t-shirt screamed CATTLE DECAPITATION in a font that looked like a bramble bush having a seizure. The skirt was short; the fishnets had deliberate holes—ventilation; she called it—and the Doc Martens had stomped in many a mosh pit.

She clomped across the parquet floor. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Old Mrs Stanley looked up from the Returns desk. She adjusted her glasses. Then she adjusted them again, as if the prescription failed her. She looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon whole. Rind and all.

—Can I help you? Mrs Stanley asked. Her voice was thin, like cheap tea.

Connie stopped. She hooked a thumb under the strap of her bag. The bag had a coffin shape.

—Here for the interview, Connie said. —The 2 o’clock. Connie.

Mrs Stanley blinked.

—For the… assistant librarian position?

—That’s the one.

Mrs Stanley looked at the t-shirt. She looked at the boots. She looked at the piercing through Connie’s septum.

—I see, she said.

She didn’t see. She saw a hooligan. She saw a vandal. She saw the end of civilisation as she knew it.

—Please. Sit down, Miss… Caskett.

Connie sat. The chair creaked.

—Right then, Mrs. Stanley said, picking up a piece of paper like it might be contagious. —You have experience with books?

—Loads.

—Reading them? Or just… looking at them?

Connie laughed. It was a surprisingly deep, throaty sound.

—I eat ‘em, love. Not literally. —Though I did chew a corner of The starving Caterpillar when I was two. Irony, innit?

Mrs Stanley’s mouth went tight.

—We are looking for someone who understands the catalogue. —Someone who respects the sanctity of the literary canon. The classics. Austen. Dickens.

—Charles Dickens, Connie nodded. —Old Charlie. Bit of a goth himself, wasn’t he?

Mrs Stanley stiffened.

—I beg your pardon?

—Think about it, Connie said, leaning forward. Her chains rattled. —Bleak House. Spontaneous human combustion? That’s pure metal. Krook going up in flames in his own shop? That’s brutal. And Miss Havisham. Sitting in her wedding dress for decades, letting the cake rot, stopping the clocks. She’s the original goth queen. Put a distortion pedal on her dialogue and you’ve got a doom metal album.

Mrs Stanley opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

—And don’t get me started on the Brontës, Connie went on. She was revving up now. —Wuthering Heights? It’s not a romance, is it? It’s a ghost story about obsession and digging up graves. Heathcliff banging his head against a tree until it bleeds? That’s a mosh pit for one, that is.

Mrs Stanley looked down at her hands. Then she looked at Connie. There was a flicker in the old woman’s eyes. A spark in the dry tinder.

—He does dig up the grave, Mrs. Stanley whispered. —To lie next to her.

—Exactly! Connie slapped the table. 

—It’s morbid. It’s disgusting. It’s beautiful. That’s what literature is, innit? It’s looking at the dark stuff and making it sing. Whether it’s Keats coughing his lungs up or Hardy hanging the kids in Jude the Obscure. It’s all heavy.

Mrs Stanley leaned back. The lemon taste was gone.

—I’ve always found Tess of the d’Urbervilles savage, Mrs Stanley ventured.

—Proper brutal, Connie agreed. —The scene with the baptism? The dying baby? Heartbreaking. That’s the stuff that matters. Not the tea parties. The blood and the mud.

Mrs Stanley smiled. It was a rusty thing, but it worked.

—And classification?

—Dewey can be rigid, Connie said, scratching her nose ring. —But I like the logic. 823.914. I know where things live. I know the hidden secrets.

Mrs Stanley picked up her pen. She looked at the CATTLE DECAPITATION shirt. She looked at the coffin bag.

—Can you reach the top shelf, Connie?

—I’m six foot in these boots, Mrs S. I can reach for the stars on a clear night.

—We start at eight thirty, Mrs Stanley said. —Don’t be late. And Miss Caskett?

—Yeah?

—Maybe leave the coffin bag in the staff room. Might scare the toddlers during story time.

Connie grinned, showing a lot of teeth.

—Deal.

First day at the new job, and the new company has a lot of fires to put out, but this environment might just be the place where I can thrive. I had an otherwise chill day, ending it with a call with my hoarse-voiced partner.

In Between

Somewhere in between

Desperate prayers for miracles and Eager waiting for the end of the world

Millions of brothers and sisters wander and wonder What does this thing called faith mean to my life today?

Northwestern at Indiana

Tonight my plan is to listen to an NCAA men's college basketball game between the Northwestern Wildcats and the Indiana Hoosiers. I'll be listening to the Flagship Station for IU Sports for the call of the game and for pregame and postgame coverage. With the game's scheduled start time of 6:00 PM CST, this fits perfectly into my nighttime routine.

And the adventure continues.

My disdain for Dispensationalism is no secret.

It fails to discern the unfolding of God's saving plan for humanity. It fails to properly understand the fulfillment of the Old Testament in the New. It flies in the face of the Church's consistent and universal understanding of Scripture. It is a novel scheme that is heterodox, at best, and heretical in some of its variations (I'm looking at you, John Hagee).

Here is the summary of a Roman Catholic explanation of Dispensationalism and Zionism that does a great job succinctly dismantling this interpretive system, which (thankfully) is waning in popularity and influence:

Christ is the fulfillment of the Old Testament. He is the New Covenant, which established the new Jerusalem, the Church, at the cost of His own blood, which does not seek to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem, let alone advocate a Zionist political state.

The promise of the land was always inseparable from the Temple: “you are to seek the place the Lord your God will choose from among all your tribes to put his Name there for his dwelling. To that place you must go” (Deuteronomy 12:5). Since an earthly Temple is no longer wanted by God, for Christ Himself is the Temple—“Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days” (John 2:19)—the religious reasons Christian Zionists hold that a physical land is necessary are obsolete since the Messiah became the Temple and sign of the land.

The entire article is worth a read.

#theology

Jag har ett komplicerat förhållande till Spotify-spellistor. Å ena sidan är de fantastiska – någon annan har gjort jobbet att kurera musik så jag slipper. Å andra sidan är många av dem... no ja, inte särskilt bra. Men hur vet man skillnaden? Hur bedömer man om en spellista faktiskt är värd att lyssna på?

Det var precis den frågan som Isitagoodplaylist.com skapades för att svara på, och jag älskar dem för det.

Vad är Isitagoodplaylist?

Isitagoodplaylist.com är en tjänst som analyserar Spotify-spellistor och ger dem betyg baserat på olika parametrar. Du klistrar in länken till en spellista, och sajten ger dig en detaljerad rapport om hur bra (eller dålig) den faktiskt är.

Det är som att ha en musikrecensent som faktiskt använder data och statistik istället för bara vaga känslor. Och i en värld där Spotify har miljontals spellistor är det här exakt den typ av kvalitetskontroll som behövs.

Tjänsten är gratis att använda, enkel att förstå, och ger faktiskt användbara insikter. Det är en av de där tjänster som gör en sak och gör den riktigt bra – inget krångel, inga onödiga funktioner, bara ren spellistanalys.

Hur fungerar analysen?

När du analyserar en spellista på Isitagoodplaylist kollar tjänsten på flera olika faktorer:

Popularitet och diversitet - Är det bara mainstream-hits eller finns det en mix av kända och mindre kända låtar? En bra spellista balanserar det bekanta med det upptäckande. Om allt är top 40-hits är det kanske inte den mest intressanta spellistan. Om allt är obscurt indie-material med 50 lyssnare per låt kan det vara för nischat.

Artistrepetition - Hur många gånger dyker samma artist upp? Om en spellista påstår sig vara om “90-talets rock” men består av 15 Nirvana-låtar och ingenting annat, ja då är det inte riktigt en bra representation av eran. Bra spellistor sprider ut sig över flera artister.

Release-datum - När släpptes låtarna? En “2020s hits”-spellista borde inte vara full av låtar från 2015. En “klassiker”-spellista som mest innehåller musik från förra året är kanske inte riktigt genomtänkt.

Energi och tempo - Spotify har data om varje låts energinivå och tempo. Isitagoodplaylist använder det för att se om spellistan har ett bra flöde. En träningsspellista borde ha hög energi. En chill-spellista borde ha lägre tempo. Om det är kaos är det ett dåligt tecken.

Längd och sammanhållning - Hur många låtar innehåller spellistan? Finns det en röd tråd eller är det bara random låtar slängda ihop? Vissa spellistor är tydligt kurerade med omtanke, andra känns som att någon bara klickade “lägg till” på sin “liked songs” tills de blev trötta.

Alla dessa faktorer vägs samman till ett övergripande betyg. Det är inte en perfekt vetenskap – musik är subjektivt – men det ger en riktigt bra indikation på om en spellista faktiskt är genomtänkt eller bara slarvigt hopkastad.

Varför spellistkvalitet spelar roll

Du kanske tänker: “Men varför bry sig? Om jag gillar låtarna spelar väl resten ingen roll?” Och på sätt och vis har du rätt. Men en bra spellista är mer än bara bra låtar – det är en upplevelse.

En välkurerad spellista tar dig på en resa. Den har ett flöde, en uppbyggnad. Den introducerar dig till ny musik utan att chocka dig. Den balanserar det bekanta med det överraskande. Det är skillnaden mellan en random shuffle och något som faktiskt är designat för att lyssnas på från början till slut.

Dåliga spellistor å andra sidan? De hoppar mellan genrer utan mening. De repeterar samma artister tråkigt. De har inget flow – ena sekunden lyssnar du på lugn jazz, nästa sekund dunkar hardcore techno i öronen. Det är uttröttande.

Isitagoodplaylist hjälper dig identifiera skillnaden innan du slösar bort din lyssartid. Och i en värld med oändlig musik är din tid faktiskt värdefull.

Curators och spellistskapare

En av de coolaste funktionerna på Isitagoodplaylist är att du kan följa specifika curators. Om någon konsekvent gör bra spellistor kan du se alla deras listor på ett ställe.

Ta till exempel den här curatorn eller den här. Du kan se alla deras spellistor, hur de betygsatts, och få en känsla för deras kurerings-stil.

Det är lite som att hitta en bra filmrecensent – när du väl hittat någon vars smak överensstämmer med din kan du lita på deras rekommendationer. Fast istället för filmer handlar det om spellistor.

För oss som faktiskt bryr oss om att göra bra spellistor är det här också en sorts kvalitetssäkring. Jag har själv analyserat spellistor jag skapat, fått feedback på vad som kunde förbättras, och gjort ändringar. Det är som att ha en editor för dina musikaliska kurering.

Spotify-ekosystemet och spellistkultur

För att förstå varför Isitagoodplaylist är värdefullt behöver vi prata om hur gigantiskt Spotifys spellistekosystem faktiskt är. Det finns miljontals spellistor. Bokstavligen miljontals. Vissa är officiella Spotify-listor, vissa är från stora medier, men de allra flesta är skapade av vanliga användare som du och jag.

Problemet är att kvaliteten varierar extremt. Vissa spellistor är mästerverk av kurering – de berättar historier, de introducerar perfekt balanserad ny musik, de har tagit timmar att sätta ihop. Andra är... ja, mindre genomtänkta. Någon klickade på “skapa spellista”, drog dit 50 random låtar, gav den ett generiskt namn som “Chill Vibes” och tänkte inte mer på det.

Spotifys sökfunktion hjälper inte heller särskilt mycket. Om du söker efter “workout music” får du tusentals resultat. Hur väljer du? Antalet följare är inte alltid en bra indikator – populära spellistor kan vara populära av fel anledningar, eller för att de fick en viral boost en gång men egentligen inte är bra.

Det är här Isitagoodplaylist kommer in. Det ger dig ett objektivt sätt att utvärdera spellistor baserat på faktiska metriker, inte bara popularitet eller gut feeling.

Användbara use cases

Jag använder Isitagoodplaylist i flera olika situationer:

När jag hittar en ny spellista - Innan jag börjar följa och lyssna analyserar jag den snabbt. Får den bra betyg? Då är det värt min tid. Får den dåligt betyg kan jag skippa den och leta vidare.

När jag jämför liknande spellistor - Om jag söker efter “80s synthpop” och hittar 20 spellistor med samma tema kan jag analysera dem alla och välja den bästa. Det är mycket effektivare än att lyssna igenom alla.

När jag förbättrar mina egna spellistor - Jag skapar själv spellistor ibland, och det är supervändbart att analysera dem för att se vad som kunde förbättras. Kanske repeterar jag samma artist för ofta? Kanske är tempot för ojämnt? Analysen visar det direkt.

När jag upptäcker nya curators - Om en spellista får högt betyg kollar jag vem som skapat den och följer dem för att se vilka andra spellistor de gjort. Det är ett bra sätt att hitta pålitliga musikskapare.

När jag bevisar en poäng - Okej, det här är kanske mest för skojs skull, men när någon säger “den här spellistan är awesome!” och jag tycker den är trash kan jag analysera den och visa med data varför den faktiskt inte är så bra. Ja, jag är den typen av person.

Begränsningar och vad tjänsten inte gör

Isitagoodplaylist är fantastiskt för vad det gör, men det är viktigt att förstå dess begränsningar. Det analyserar objektiva metriker – data, statistik, mätbara faktorer. Det kan inte bedöma subjektiv musiksmak.

En spellista kan få perfekt betyg på alla tekniska parametrar men ändå inte vara något du gillar om musiken inte är din stil. Omvänt kan en spellista få lägre betyg men vara exakt vad du söker om du specifikt vill ha något nischat eller ovanligt.

Tjänsten kan heller inte ta hänsyn till kontextuella faktorer. En spellista avsedd för en specifik fest med specifika människor kan bryta mot alla “bra spellista”-regler men ändå vara perfekt för just den situationen.

Så använd Isitagoodplaylist som ett verktyg, inte som absolut sanning. Det ger dig värdefull information, men du måste fortfarande använda ditt eget omdöme.

Jämförelse med andra spellistverktyg

Det finns andra verktyg för att analysera Spotify-spellistor, men Isitagoodplaylist sticker ut för sin enkelhet och fokus. Vissa verktyg ger dig omfattande statistik och grafer – vilket är coolt om du är data nerd, men överväldigande om du bara vill veta “är det här en bra spellista?”.

Isitagoodplaylist ger dig svaret rakt på sak. Ett betyg, några nyckelmetriker, klart. Du kan dyka djupare om du vill, men du behöver inte. Det är användbarheten som gör det värdefullt.

Andra verktyg fokuserar mer på att skapa spellistor eller hitta ny musik. Isitagoodplaylist fokuserar specifikt på att utvärdera befintliga spellistor. Det gör en sak och gör det bra, vilket jag alltid uppskattar.

Framtiden för spellistkurering

Jag tror att verktyg som Isitagoodplaylist blir allt viktigare. Mängden musik på streamingplattformar växer exponentiellt. Spotify lägger till tiotusentals nya låtar varje dag. Antalet spellistor växer i samma takt.

I den miljön behöver vi verktyg för att filtrera och utvärdera. Vi kan inte lyssna på allt. Vi kan inte analysera varje spellista manuellt. Vi behöver sätt att snabbt identifiera kvalitet så vi kan spendera vår lyssartid på det som faktiskt är bra.

Jag föreställer mig en framtid där Spotify själva integrerar liknande funktionalitet – kanske betyg eller kvalitetsmarkeringar direkt i appen. Men tills dess finns det tredjepartstjänster som Isitagoodplaylist, och jag är tacksam för det.

För spellistskapare – förbättra ditt hantverk

Om du själv skapar spellistor (vilket du borde om du bryr dig om musik) är Isitagoodplaylist ett ovärderligt verktyg för att förbättra ditt hantverk. Det ger dig konkret feedback på vad som fungerar och inte fungerar.

Kanske upptäcker du att du repeterar samma artister för ofta. Kanske är ditt tempo för ojämnt. Kanske blandar du årtionden på ett sätt som inte fungerar. Analysen visar det, och du kan justera.

Det är som att ha en coach för spellistskapande. Det kommer inte göra jobbet åt dig – du måste fortfarande ha bra musiksmak och kuratorisk känsla – men det hjälper dig identifiera blinda fläckar och förbättringsområden.

Jag har själv blivit en bättre curator tack vare den här typen av feedback. Mina spellistor har bättre flow nu, mer variation i artister, bättre balans mellan bekant och nytt. Det märks när människor faktiskt lyssnar hela vägen igenom istället för att hoppa efter tredje låten.

Social aspekt och delning

En underutnyttjad del av Isitagoodplaylist är den sociala aspekten. Du kan dela dina spellistanalyser, visa upp bra curators du hittat, och diskutera vad som gör en spellista bra.

Det är kul att jämföra spellistor med vänner. “Min workout-spellista fick 8.5, vad fick din?” Det är nördigt, ja, men om du ändå är musiknörd (vilket du förmodligen är om du läser det här) är det rätt typ av nördighet.

Vissa använder det också som ett sätt att visa upp sina kuratoriska skills. “Alla mina spellistor får över 8.0 rating” blir ett sorts kvalitetsmärke. Det är lite som att ha ett bra credit score, fast för spellistor.

Varför jag bryr mig om spellistkvalitet

Låt mig vara ärlig om varför det här spelar roll för mig personligen. Musik är en enorm del av mitt liv. Jag lyssnar på musik flera timmar varje dag. Och hur jag lyssnar – i vilken ordning, i vilken kombination – påverkar faktiskt min upplevelse.

En bra spellista kan förvandla en tråkig pendling till något njutbart. Den kan göra ett träningspass mer effektivt. Den kan sätta rätt stämning för ett socialt sammanhang. Den kan introducera mig till artister jag aldrig skulle hittat annars.

En dålig spellista gör motsatsen. Den bryter flödet, den irriterar, den får mig att vilja byta. Det är slöseri med tid och potential.

Så för mig handlar spellistkvalitet om att respektera musiken och respektera min egen tid. Det handlar om att vara medveten om att kurering faktiskt är en färdighet, inte bara “släng ihop några låtar och hoppas på det bästa”.

Kom igång med Isitagoodplaylist

Om du har blivit nyfiken (vilket jag verkligen hoppas) är det superenkelt att komma igång. Gå till isitagoodplaylist.com, klistra in länken till en Spotify-spellista, och vänta några sekunder medan analysen körs. Boom, du har ett betyg och detaljerad feedback.

Börja med att analysera dina egna spellistor om du har några. Det är både ödmjukande och lärorikt. Sedan kan du analysera spellistor du funderar på att följa. Jämför liknande spellistor för att se vilka som faktiskt är bäst kurerade.

Om du hittar curators som konsekvent gör bra spellistor, följ dem! Det är guldvärt att ha källor till kvalitetssäkrad musik. Och om du själv börjar skapa spellistor, använd analysen för att kontinuerligt förbättra ditt hantverk.

Slutord – spellistor som konst

Det är lätt att tänka på spellistor som något casually – bara en lista med låtar. Men bra spellistskapande är faktiskt en konstform. Det kräver musikkunskap, kuratorisk känsla, förståelse för flow och dynamik. Det är lika mycket konst som att DJ:a eller mixa.

Isitagoodplaylist hjälper oss att erkänna och värdera den konsten. Det ger oss verktyg att identifiera kvalitet, lära oss vad som fungerar, och kontinuerligt förbättra oss som både konsumenter och skapare av spellistor.

I en värld med oändlig musik är kurering det som gör skillnad mellan kaos och upplevelse. Det som skiljer random shuffle från något meningsfullt. Det som gör att vi faktiskt hittar och njuter av musik istället för att drunkna i överväldigande valmöjligheter.

Så nästa gång någon delar en spellista med dig, eller du hittar en som ser lovande ut, ta 10 sekunder och kör den genom Isitagoodplaylist. Det kan rädda dig från timmar av medioker lyssning. Eller det kan bekräfta att du hittat en pärla. Oavsett vilket är det värt att veta.

Och om du själv skapar spellistor – ta det på allvar. Använd verktyg som Isitagoodplaylist för att bli bättre. Din framtida själv, och alla som lyssnar på dina spellistor, kommer tacka dig.

Musik är för viktig för att slösas bort på dåligt kurerade spellistor. Isitagoodplaylist hjälper oss säkerställa att vi faktiskt lyssnar på det bästa. Och det är något jag definitivt kan stå bakom.

Toscana i mellersta Italien är en av Europas mest mytomspunna regioner. Här samsas böljande kullar, vinodlingar, cypresser och medeltida städer med några av världens mest betydelsefulla konstskatter. Det är en plats där natur, kultur och vardagsliv flyter samman på ett sätt som gör att besökaren snabbt känner av regionens särprägel. Toscana är inte bara en destination för sevärdheter, utan en upplevelse som genomsyras av rytm, smaker och historia.

Florens och renässansens arv

Florens är Toscanas kulturella hjärta och en stad som haft enorm betydelse för Europas konst och idéhistoria. Under renässansen blomstrade staden tack vare mäktiga familjer som Medici, och här verkade konstnärer som Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo och Botticelli. Stadens silhuett domineras av den imponerande katedralen Santa Maria del Fiore med sin mäktiga kupol.

Ett besök i Florens innebär nästan oundvikligen möten med konst i världsklass. Uffizierna är ett av Europas mest berömda museer och rymmer verk som format konsthistorien. Samtidigt är Florens mer än sina museer. Att promenera längs floden Arno, korsa Ponte Vecchio i kvällsljuset och slå sig ner på ett litet torg med en espresso är minst lika betydelsefullt som att bocka av sevärdheter.

Siena och den medeltida atmosfären

Siena erbjuder en helt annan känsla än Florens. Här är det medeltiden som sätter tonen. Stadens centrum, Piazza del Campo, är ett av Europas mest unika torg med sin snäckformade struktur. Två gånger varje sommar förvandlas torget till arena för Palio di Siena, ett traditionsrikt hästlopp som engagerar hela staden.

Sienas katedral är ett mästerverk i svart och vit marmor och speglar stadens historiska rikedom. De smala gränderna, de branta backarna och de varma tegelfasaderna skapar en intim och nästan tidlös atmosfär. Här handlar upplevelsen ofta om att sakta ner och låta staden visa sig i sin egen takt.

Chianti och vinets landskap

Området mellan Florens och Siena kallas Chianti och är sinnebilden av det klassiska toskanska landskapet. Kullarna är täckta av vinrankor och olivlundar, och små byar tronar på höjderna. Här produceras det berömda Chianti Classico-vinet, huvudsakligen gjort på druvan sangiovese.

Att resa genom Chianti är lika mycket en visuell som en kulinarisk upplevelse. Många vingårdar erbjuder provsmakningar där man får inblick i vinets tillverkning och regionens traditioner. Kombinationen av lokala ostar, charkuterier, bröd och vin gör att måltiderna ofta blir en central del av resan.

Val d’Orcia och det ikoniska Toscana

Söder om Siena breder Val d’Orcia ut sig, ett landskap som blivit symbol för Toscana i filmer och fotografier. Här möts man av öppna vidder, ensamma gårdar på kullar och vägar kantade av cypresser. Området är upptaget på UNESCO:s världsarvslista tack vare sitt kulturhistoriska landskap.

Små städer som Pienza och Montepulciano lockar med både arkitektur och gastronomi. Pienza är känd för sin pecorinoost och sin harmoniska renässansplanering, medan Montepulciano erbjuder vintraditioner och vidsträckta utsikter. I Val d’Orcia är det ofta stillheten och ljuset som gör störst intryck.

Pisa och Toscanas kust

Pisa är mest känd för sitt lutande torn, som står på Piazza dei Miracoli tillsammans med stadens katedral och baptisterium. Tornets lutning har gjort det till en av världens mest fotograferade byggnader. Även om området kring tornet är turistintensivt rymmer staden fler sidor, bland annat ett levande studentliv och charmiga kvarter längs floden Arno.

Toscanas kust sträcker sig längs Medelhavet och erbjuder både sandstränder och mer dramatiska kustlandskap. Städer som Livorno ger en mer vardagsnära bild av regionen, med starka sjöfartstraditioner och ett kök präglat av fisk och skaldjur. För den som vill kombinera kultur och bad är kusten ett naturligt komplement till inlandets historiska städer.

Det toskanska köket

Maten i Toscana bygger på enkla, rustika traditioner där råvarornas kvalitet står i centrum. Brödet bakas utan salt, vilket ger en neutral bas till smakrika ostar och charkuterier. Rätter som ribollita, en mustig soppa med bröd och grönsaker, och bistecca alla fiorentina, en kraftig T-bensstek, är typiska för regionen.

Olivoljan spelar en central roll och används både i matlagning och som smaksättare direkt på bröd och grönsaker. Det är ett kök som inte försöker imponera genom komplexitet, utan genom enkelhet och äkthet. Måltiderna är ofta långa och sociala, där samtalet är lika viktigt som maten.

Att resa i Toscana

Toscana har ett välutbyggt tågnät mellan de större städerna, men för att nå de mindre byarna och landsbygden är bil det mest flexibla alternativet. Vägarna slingrar sig genom kullarna och erbjuder ständigt nya vyer.

Våren och hösten är särskilt populära tider att besöka regionen, med behagliga temperaturer och färre besökare. Sommaren är varm och livlig, med festivaler och lokala marknader som fyller städer och byar med energi.

Toscana är en region som upplevs bäst med tid. Det är i de små stunderna, morgonkaffet på ett soligt torg eller en sen middag med utsikt över vinfälten, som dess karaktär verkligen träder fram.

After using Ubuntu for several years, I still consider myself a Linux amateur. I’ve used Windows since middle school so I had to start over. But learning something new is a challenge when your memory isn’t as sharp as it once was. I’ve saved many bookmarks of Terminal commands to refresh my mind.

I bought a Lenovo Thinkpad X-1 Carbon back in 2017. Still find it funny that my Intel i7 quad core processor wasn’t enough to upgrade to Windows 11. That’s when I finally stopped using Windows for good. When my Thinkpad finally died last year (thank you for your service) I had to use my spare 2012 MacBook Pro 13.

I’ve gotten used to the MacOS format and in some ways love it more than my Lenovo. When I couldn’t update the Brave Browser on my MacBook anymore I decided to change the OS.

I researched the best Linux distro for my MacBook and it came down to two choices: Elemental OS or PopOS!. The first one looked promising, very similar to MacOS. But I didn’t want to pay only to not like it. So I chose the latter.

PopOS! doesn’t look like MacOS, but I read good things about it. I also wanted to try something different. After installing it the WiFi card wasn’t working. For some reason the OS doesn’t recognize Apple WiFi cards. The only solution was buying a USB WiFi card from eBay and it works.

I like the OS. It works faster than Ubuntu and it’s easy to navigate. I don’t care much for the Workspaces feature. As long as I can use Terminal and install and use the programs I need that’s all it counts.

The company who makes PopOS! also sells their own laptops, but they’re pricey. They allow donations so I’ll give back whenever I can for their good work. So if you want to try PopOS!, give it a shot and let me know if you like it or not.

#computer #laptop #linux #popos

Her memoir was much more measured than you would expect from a Sagittarius woman. She was so observant those first five years with Picasso, and in a way, it felt like she was locked up in her body, moving and responding to the different situations that she was thrown into—until it dawned on her—2 children later, that she was losing herself, and could no longer live in the shadows of someone.

I do remember being 20-something and ‘letting’ things happen to you, feeling somewhat less in control of your destiny. She was 21 when she met Picasso, who was 61. Reading her memoir gave me some empathy for an ex of mine, who had muttered under his breath, after a couple of years of a long-distance courtship that he had felt like my shadow.

Though, I was no Picasso. I was no tyrannical egotistical painter, who would throw tantrums, when I think of him “fading” within my confidence and poise, I can still understand what he might have meant, a little better. He was 10 years older than me, but I can see why it feels like I have lived more lives than he has.

What they should be teaching us in schools, is the resiliency and confidence that most people try to find in others first. We think that we will get stronger and better, in a duo or couple. Our culture trains us to look outward for it, but a lot of it is self-knowledge…and then the true test of being human, is being able to be part of a community, to be in communion with others—not just in romantic relationships.

部屋には、16時の光が斜めに差し込んでいた。体調はもう底をついていたが、冬の終わりの空気だけはやけに澄んでいた。外にはまだ雪が残り、窓辺の鉢植えには小さな新芽が顔を出していた。

「お前さ、昔、雪どかしてたら八百屋が出てきたことあったろ。しかも値札が全部めちゃくちゃでさ。にんじん一袋三千円とか。あれ、誰のいたずらだったんだろうな」

笑いながら言ったのは、大学時代からの友人・佐伯だ。今は画家をしているらしい。売れているのかどうかは知らないが、たまに個展の案内だけは届く。俺は毎回、行くふりをして行かない。

「お前、木のそばで靴紐結んでたろ。あれ、後から聞いたら“家に飯がない”って合図なんだってな。分かるわけねえよ」

「そんな時期あったな。伝わらない合図にハマってたんだよ。言葉にしないで伝わってほしい、みたいな」

俺たちは床に座って、新作らしい缶コーヒーを開けた。佐伯が缶の側面を見て、ふっと笑う。

「お前、その顔、ゲーセンにいたときの顔じゃん。しかも反射ごし」

「反射ごしでしか出ない顔なんだよ」

「なんだよそれ」

佐伯はテレビ前の古いビデオデッキに手を伸ばした。

「今の子ってさ、ビデオ再生するとき手を繋いでもらうんだってよ。安心するらしい」

「本当っぽく言うなよ」

再生された映像には、大学の文化祭で撮った8ミリが映った。画面の中の俺は紙コップを探している。服を脱ぎ散らかしているような動きで、あちこちを漁っている。

「覚えてるか。紙コップ探してただけなのに、みんなに“脱ぎ魔”って呼ばれてた」

「お前が言い出したんだろ」

佐伯は笑いながら、棚からマグカップを取った。そこには「ぬぎま」と書かれていた。俺のあだ名だ。

「なんかさ、紙コップ取る動きがやたら騒がしくて、服脱いでるみたいだったんだよ」

「コーヒー淹れるわ」

湯気の立つカップを受け取った瞬間、ふと、初めて鼻血を出した日のことを思い出した。洗剤のボトルを覗き込んでむせた拍子に、つっと血が落ちた。あのときの匂いが、今もどこかに残っている。俺は鼻血の出し方がカッコいい。

「そういやさ、喫煙所で上司と一緒になったとき、会社じゃないみたいに話が盛り上がったんだよ。なんか、気持ちよかったわ」

「わかる。俺もこの前、灰皿譲ったら“先祖に侍いる？”って聞かれた」

「どういう感性だよ、それで上司になれたのか」

「知らねえ。でも、ちょっと嬉しかったんだよな」

佐伯がポケットからライターを取り出し、俺に放る。

「名前つけて返してくれよ」

「なんでだよ」

「いいから早く」

「……ポチ」

「合ってる合ってる」

ライターを手に取りながら思う。名前をつけるって、つまり忘れないってことだ。そういうことを、俺たちは昔から、言葉にせずにやってきた。

「資料、添えておくよ」

「急に日本語言うな」

「日本語を言いました」

Love

One cannot love anybody without turning away from oneself. However, the crucial question is whether this movement is prompted by the desire to turn toward a positive value, or whether the intention is a radical escape from oneself.

Scheler, M. (2023). Ressentiment (English Edition) [Kindle Android version]. p38

#MaxScheler #love #value