blackle mori

my gf and I went to "the well" the other day, which is a new outdoor mall complex at spadina and front. the whole place is really really bougie but I would nonetheless recommend the food court. not necessarily for food—though the google reviews for most of the vendors are quite good—but because there's nary a chain restaurant in sight. the most recognizable brand was chatime, and aside from that and uncle tetsu's and a few others, I had not previously encountered any of the stores in the food court. it was like walking into an alternate reality where the jimmy the greeks, a&ws, thai expresses, and yogen früzes of the world were plucked out of existence and replaced with bespoke lookalikes.

it evoked the feeling of being in an airport mall, or another country entirely. I would recommend checking it out, if not for the food but for the experience. worst case scenario you can get a good chuckle at the overwhelmingly twee affect of the interior design. there's arcade machines, gatchapons, and photo booths strewn about. there was an air hockey table near the entrance to an underground combination bowling alley/gastropub. worst worst case scenario you get kicked out for swearing—we'd found a plaque just outside the premesis that outlined the rules and regulations. profanity was placed alongside skateboarding as examples of untolerated behaviour. "fuck that," my gf said, as we went in anyway.

aside from the food court, the mall itself felt paradoxically empty. nearly every storefront was populated, but the vast majority emitted such noxious vibes they might as well have been empty cubes with busy textures plastered over the windows like so many unexplorable shopping malls in open world video games. it was a place you could get lost in, but only if you're there to find something inside to begin with. otherwise you can easily get yourself spat out through one of the many massive arching exits. we did encounter one lost soul at the well. a woman stopped us to ask if "the well" was a restaurant. we explained that no, the well was bigger than that. we used big sweeping gestures to indicate that "the well" was an entire location, an entire experience. a landmark! "so they have to be more specific then" she repied, pointing at her phone, at her own private text conversation with some other wayward explorer. yes. they have to be more specific. there are plenty of restaurants at the well. they're basically the only things *at* the well.

here is my review of "the well"

it's pretty good! I'd recommend reading the penguin classics edition bc it is based on the original publication and has lots of good footnotes. in the 50s the author had republished it with a bunch of things removed or filed down, so you don't want that one

@trenchghoul.bsky.social hey have you read "goodbye to all that"? I finished it the other day. was wondering if you had and if you had thoughts on it

looking for recommendations for motorized adjustable desks with good build quality and a high weight limit

still so wild to me that one of the major features of the night sky has a name that sounds like it was coined by an excitable marketing director. it feels like I'm being sold something. "the milky way"—come on guys, what is this? every other part of the sky has a one syllable name. sun. moon. star. fuckin... milky way? I can tell a sponsor read when I hear one. no, I'm not gonna let this one happen. we *shouldn't* let this happen the same way we didn't let "milkstache" happen. let's grow a fucking backbone agains the dairy industry already, we've been in its thrall since the goddamn ancient greeks apparently. shaking my damn smh.

doesn't even look like a real picture anymore. like an architectural rendering or some kinda "society if everyone put their shopping carts back" futuristic meme image

11 years ago today I started HRT!

drawing of a girl with bright teal hair wearing a red shirt on a checkerboard background. the text "I'm sorry I drank your soda water" hovers above her head. there is a crab, a lobster, and a shrimp distributed in the corners

drawing of a girl with bright teal hair wearing a red shirt on a checkerboard background. the text "I'm sorry I drank your soda water" hovers above her head. there is a crab, a lobster, and a shrimp distributed in the corners

once again I am leaning against balconies open to city squares holding signs of protest that declare:

YOUR SMUT IS BACKWARDS!
LEAVE OUT THE FOREPLAY!
WRITE-IN THE AFTERCARE!
❌ BUILDUP -> CLIMAX
✅ CLIMAX -> DENOUEMENT

dear mother I cannot weave, slender aphrodite has destroyed my loom with a big hammer

sorry, I can't work this morning. my multitudes are inflamed. I will ensure the work gets done, of course. labour must be completed, I understand. but you'll have to work with my, uhm, "friend." she's got the affect of a toaster but she *can* function. she's "input-output oriented," you won't find a bone of a craftsperson in her. she's mostly mass produced, but bespoke in her own way. cobbled together from off-the-shelf BJD kits. "kitbashing" I think it's called. we're all quilts anyway, little scraps all sewn together. ah, I ought to stop talking—I might inflame yours too

"your doll just gave you a stamped coin with their true feelings for you written on it!" *she throws it into the lake*

I can't hold it in much longer, so I'll just say it, harold from harold and maude is so doll coded

sometimes writing is motivated by some sense of being "against" something or "for" something, and other times it is simply a matter of some verb pressing against your mind, asking you to explore how it acts against a variety of words and phrases. against all odds I find myself in precisely this situation, and against my better judgement I press on to protest against any word that happens to cross my iron sights. against the wall I'm fighting for something of value to come from this exercise, but chance is against me that I should find any novel use of my word against another. maybe I'm trying to hard? should I rest against the ground for a moment to regain my strength? but no rest comes for I'm again against the angst that arrives in angst against itself again! oh hey-go-mad! maybe this would've gone better had I been "for" something instead of so aptly against!

anyone want to be friends with me on app dot thestorygraph dot com? app.thestorygraph.com/profile/blac...

I heard somewhere that most of a person's life is spent watching the credits after they die

hey I was wondering if anyone had like answers about the nature of goodness and how to do the right thing in general? I didn't study before I became a moral agent so I'm somewhat unprepared, and there's not very many authoritative sources on the subject within my lightcone.

trying to find contemporary poets and tbh I feel like domino club adjacent people would be able to write some good ass poetry

finished reading good-bye to all that today

feels like how a promise makes a promise in the process of making a promise

part of my belief is that the real is valuable to you, despite its apathy/antipathy toward you, because it functions logically. there is a basis of objectivity that could, in theory, be agreed upon, should everyone be permitted to share their view of the world and those views and needs and wants make their way to the people who need to hear them. generated images, even if not made with the intent to deceive, still suck because they are drawn from a statistical distribution of all possible "real" worlds. not *our* real. this excessively muddies our relationship to this difficult but consistent reality we find ourselves in. one of my fears is being lost in a mushy world of instantaneous, reactionary dream-imagery, never sure if anyone or anything I'm interacting with has its own interiority or is merely a figment, established for a brief moment, to sate some desire I have

as a nontheist a core part of my understanding of the world is that we only have each other. this universe we live in is a machine. asking if the universe "cares" is meaningless. our existence is incidental and the only way to survive this is by holding each other up. if we alienate ourselves from this fact, turning ourselves into perfectly content and happy islands, I really do feel that we'd be doomed. if we want to be happy I think we need to be happy together

I don't believe that happiness is meaningless without suffering because I don't believe happiness and suffering are opposites. nor do I believe that all suffering is the same. there is a dismal suffering that destroys, gives you nearly nothing, that empties you out. let us rally against this. and then there is the suffering against the world in your mission to make something new into reality. there is suffering that reveals something to you. when someone else suffers, you feel an empathetic suffering too. suffering can give us stuff. it can also take it away, but so can happiness. I'm sure there are certain kinds of happiness that empty a person out.

we ought to nurture our multitudes and the multitudes of other people. it's tricky and probably impossible. but I think we ought to allow that to be something to strive for. if you give yourself an impossible task, you will never be bored in your life.

hm. yeah, I'm calling it. my objections to AI are partially religious in nature (cross-posted thread from fedi)

Hey all, looking for work.

I'm a senior developer in Toronto with experience in Golang and Identity/Security. if someone knows of an org providing remote work, please let me know. Thanks!

I suppose from the outside it looks like I'm living an ascetic lifestyle what with my soda waters and library books and teetotalism but if you look closer you'll find that my humours are nonetheless severly imbalanced and my sense of judgement permanently impaired by flights of fancy and fey whims

I think we ought to start sending each other physical letters

it varies, just as most things do when it comes to the human body and all our beautiful differences

shocked that my toad had such difficultly navigating around the fallen tree in the marsh. agog of my frog's bog log slog

anatomically modern humans were outmoded in the 2500s by anatomically postmodern humans. these so-called "posts" were distinguised from their predecessors by the presence of either a yaoi hole or a prehensile clitoris. usually both

allow yourself the liberty to dream even bigger, even stranger and cuter. you're in good company with this world

I don't talk about QCC a lot here because I want to keep that part of my life separate. but it is like, 30% of my life at the moment. 1/3rd job, 1/3rd community, 1/3rd personal, I guess

having straightforward labour to do like balancing the books and cleaning the space is also good. small, easy wins