My dogs loved their dog box. In fact they had two. Being sensible human beings we got our mother and daughter pair of dogs a box each. Being neurotic canus miscellaneous they said... .
I can't stand it when human beings put words in the mouths of canus miscellaneous or any other creature of Terra Firma (I make an exception for Robinson Crusoe's parrot). Space-Aliens (creatures that don't belong to Terra Firma) are a different matter. We can talk, and must simply put up with people putting words in our mouths; which might explain why, for as long as I have known how to talk I have been this boring; this much of a kill-joy; this tediously realistic that an electric piano sounds sick to me (unless one uses an unreal sound bank) and the thought of the actuation of cheap electric pianos actually makes me ill.
The actuation of a good electric piano will actually have a mechanism which is not mechanically less technologically advanced as a thing designed before mechanical artifice became referred to as nuts and bolts. Naturally a mathematician must allow that his mental skills don't mean he can understand all mechanical things, just because of blueprints. We understand that some people discuss the university-o-sphere, but we prefer to simply say that education doesn't stop with the school-o-sphere.
Giving credence to the idea that the word engineer does not simply mean a skilled repairman is much of a muchness with allowing medical doctors a monopoly on the word doctor; and doctors who ask for this, we understand, circumscribe certain topics as ones to which we may not apply the scientific method, such as the effect of the colour pink.
Those who are sought out to offer advice when this effect is found to be insufficient to build a lasting relationships around, must get very creative with the advice they give, for that advice amounts to not fucking around with the growth of feelings.
This advice needs to come from an advisor almost without exception because the invidividuals needing the advice did fuck around with the growth of feelings.
Almost without fail the advisor will say the word universe.
Almost without fail the advisor did not go to university.
Almost without fail I'm going to try to make a hat-trick even though I don't have literal experience of cricket.
My sweet dogs left me heart-broken, but they were just a reminder of stronger feelings; I used to sit in the sun with my dogs not thinking about the universe.
But we can't avoid the universal object.
I'm not enamoured with modern scripting languages.
Some men told me that they loved their dogs more than their wife. But that just means they missed the fucking-point. That's something you say to your wife if you are a man, if she needs it said to her, and not if she doesn't. But that's fucking obvious.
In fact, that's fucking-obvious. It is obvious that a cat can't replace a dog. But a beautiful cat might beautifully annoy a dog whose lost her annoying mother.
I loved my dogs too much. I came to regret allowing a friend to take the mother to be euthenased. And then I had to deal with what comes of waiting for nature to take its course. And we can but regret the time we didn't spend with them.
Thanks to the woman who loves her cats like no man ever loved his dogs. I found myself with a full grown cat who didn't know how to meditate, who just reminded me of Leroy; which tom-cat was a true companion, but who I put down when the medical expenses became burdensome.
People who talk of dog-people and cat-people aught to go to a gipsy to learn about love. But not the ones with back-room specials.
Evidence is that sex, or gender if you are still using primary school English, has more to do with our affinity with animals than the bible can tell us about love. But there are easier and more reliable ways of sexing a person.
I'm a boy because my mother said so.
Not to be sexist, I don't think women can know the difference between a father of any numbers of daughters, and the father of but one son.
Reality is my middle name.
A scripting language brings us to contemplate lvalues.
I would like to make a scripting language, which would have to be a full object scripting language to be publishable, but the thought has made me realize that object scripting languages come about by taking the meat of a C compiler and welding a new language together which allows sons of other fathers to be able to do things without worrying about memory.
Each scripting language has a different word for lvalue.
It's high fucking time that people who call themselves mathematicians because they caught a glimpse of something that isn't just a fucking word game, acknowledge that the lvalue is a fucking mathematical discovery.
I like to think that Alice was an identifier given to me to make use of in the best way I could.
But it's still unpublishable at present. I needed to start over, and by that time I was caught in debates about girl coders and boy coders: in other words, those who do not know how to deal with memory. And who think that structure is somebody else's problem (so long as it does the job). And version control (so long as they do their job).
Only the ingredient of necessity can lead us to work from a lack of structure towards something resembling structure without thinking about starting over.
Stopping the world in order for one person to get it all right would require the world to listen to that one person when he says that something is impossible.
I think I have at least hereby adequately eliminated one thing I thought was possible.
Good bye, Alice!