Obligatory "ignore this space" : https://sacoronavirus.co.za

Thinking about a time when I walked around town looking for cheesecake, which was a time I generally omitted to say things which were unlikely to interest anyone, and a time I had a small focused website pertaining to things which might interest people like me, I recall that in later years the thought of having a website was not so much the thought of the futility of finding people who also liked to play in sandboxes, but that the telephone etiquette brigade had come and told us that to put an opinion on the internet without stating that it was an opinion was to destroy young minds.

That is, the internet now belonged to mommies and daddies. Before I talk about mommies and daddies who told their boys and girls to accept jobs which amount to the talking about new labels for the same old boxes, I must note that I watched the internet change, day by day. In the turmoil of having the easy life of a bachelor, which amounts to sighing every time we walk into the kitchen (at least), I had come across a debate which in hindsight appears to have been clothed as a technical debate, which divided people into censors and anti-censors. The anti-censors suggested that the owners of boxes aughtn't have control of what's inside; the censors referred to child pornography.

Boys and girls walking around without their clothes on had been a discussion within our family, for as long as I can remember, which recollection goes back to the receiving of discipline for forgetting to put clothes on. Thus who could fail to recall the parents who volunteered photos of their naked sons and daughters?

In other words, what makes a picture pornographic?

The answer is quite simple, and, involving the matter of the object knowing what a photo is, and thinking they themselves to be an authority on the difference between art and nature, we look again at what was supposed to be our culture for being behaviour prevalent amongst our race, which leaves me strumming my guitar hypothetically with the anguish of a lost lover.

Melodramatic web-loggers don't know where the manual for growing up is, let alone the manual for the revision of webpages.

Less is more: whether people who think that kaalgat is a culture or otherwise, the anarchy of the internet is yet treasured. Freedom of expression on the streets leads to mobs: that knowledge is in our blood and we make ourselves look stupid when we try to pretend it isn't, don't we?

I am most indebted to those who did not behave as if a year or two could make me a different person, or talk to me about the equal distribution of guiltiness.

A year or two did make me a different person, and did show me that the enemy is within me. Men, I believe, can only get better at noticing the moment a girl turns into a woman. The will of a person who is being photographed must be looked at in context of their culture; and the same applies if they themselves are taking the pictures. But monks can only avert their eyes for so long; we also get to know that it is imputed on them what they are doing with high-speed fibre.

The song remains the same.

It is also imputed on us who belongs to our culture. Taking the long way round to the resuming of my blissful bachelorhood, I can be thankful that for a time I'm not required to repeat myself endlessly about not repeating the same mistakes to my elders.

The beta symbol looks like a German symbol which seems to indicate the word draft. But guns-n-roses doesn't include the Greek letter. Dispensing with versions means that users are asking to be spoonfed again; which is fine when the company employs a sysadmin-programmer who can be moaned at for how apps are changing without warning.

The boy from the nineteen-seventies said, 'send them to the gas chamber.'

If we could determine a test to demonstrate that a person was wilfully illogical, what would we do with the results?

Driving a boy who thought that insanity was best, if we know beast from man from stone, to see the having of children as merely adding to a meaningless graph, is one thing. Uncompromising girls take no prisoners.

Systems for the notification of new versions of apps were received as systems for the notification of new hairstyles. And sysadmin-programmers have to find some way of making themselves independent. And coders who code for the love of it call on defacto authorities to get sysadmin-programmers telling users of the risk of not updating.

We aren't interested in Eugenics. We know what happens when a person appears who is not of average intellect. Beta testing, however, involves us in the question of the testing of testers. Thus coders who make a mistake must know what it's like to be sentenced to death for it.

It was a mistake to think that releasing an app so as not to be at risk of being accused of being all talk, could avoid the matter of the creating of a package. Tools to create packages require us to involve ourselves in encryption, not to mention that we need to incur expense on that account; not to mention that the tools to create packages for the most commonly used systems are about as easy for a programmer to use as machine code is easy to a pregnant mother.

I'd explain machine code to you, but we can't help thinking of the Theory of Unnatural Relationships.

And every year that goes by is a bigger number.

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