Chris Trottier

Putting the sauce in awesome!

This is my own self-hosted single-user Pleroma instance that operates as a back-up for @[email protected]. I use this to talk about my personal life, my hobbies, as well as general geekiness.

Public Key

npub1jeqcnv0u9nyz8vjknegr2p62f54hfm3v9srudwq4rzarz4tqwk7qlujglm

NIP-05 Address

[email protected]

Profile Code

nprofile1qqsfvsvfk87zejprkftfu5p4qa9y62m5ackzcp7xhq233w3324s8t0q4u0ugn

Publishing to

nostr.coinfund.app

relay.mostr.pub

relay.shitforce.one

Author Public Key

npub1jeqcnv0u9nyz8vjknegr2p62f54hfm3v9srudwq4rzarz4tqwk7qlujglm

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Last Notes

2024-06-22 03:12:22

I wonder what happened to all those 80s cool kids who made fun of the nerds.

2024-06-03 03:19:12

It generally sucks to find out that a game franchise that I love has been hijacked by a racist and transphobic asshole.
Honestly, I’m torn. Video games are collaborative ventures. On one hand, a game is not the creative work of whoever happens to own the IP.
On the other hand, whoever owns the IP ends up with the profits. 🤬

2024-05-16 05:37:02

Also, what even is the purpose of a beard?
From what I can tell, the benefit is that it gives me the option for another face. If I want to be mildly unrecognizable, I can just grow out my facial hair.
But other than that, I have no idea why men grow beards.

2024-05-05 07:53:23

I think the reason PC gaming isn’t distracting to me is because I don’t go on Discord, I don’t do multiplayer, and I stick to single player campaigns.
The only time I’m ever “social” with gaming is here on the Fediverse and I don’t do live updates when playing a game.

2024-05-04 11:44:07

One thing I am happy about regarding Steam and GOG.com is that all the games I bought that have since been de-listed are still available to me and playable as well.
But I also don’t understand why video game companies encourage piracy with these de-listings. Most people, if given the chance, would rather acquire their library legally.

2024-04-27 10:03:06

If there’s one thing I want A.I. to do, it’s to embiggen the resolution of images.
And you can’t tell me the world wouldn’t rejoice if that feature was readily available because that’s the kind of grunt work A.I. is surely made to do.
If we could take a 0.3 megapixel image and upscale it into a 10 megapixel image, that would be tremendous. Someone has probably made such an A.I. service but I’m not aware of it.

2024-04-14 03:47:33

Today, I learned that Kenyan government officials wanted to put two gay lions into conversion therapy.
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/gay-lions-sex-kenya-photos-men-inspired-need-therapy-says-official-a8036016.html

2024-04-12 10:05:44

Something I often see on YouTube: videos with an English title, but when you view it, it’s in a language other than English.
I don’t know who this helps. English speakers can’t understand it. And presumably, people who speak the YouTuber’s language won’t be finding it since they’re likely doing search queries in their own language.
It’s perplexing.

2024-04-09 17:30:46

On #Threads, posts being shared to the #Fediverse are identifiable by a circular icon on the top right of their posts.
See screenshot.
@npub1gsm…5y8l
https://atomicpoet.org/media/84b89fa437c41ed0a0fce0ecf5e7c57fcfbd95cdd18ad99998185675c8e3984c.jpeg

2024-04-09 04:42:14

Barack Obama (@npub1v0p…nnd8) is on the Fediverse!
How cool is that?!
@npub1gsm…5y8l

2024-04-07 02:33:57

I need to come here more often. The mountain air is so crisp. And it’s nice to be around snowy trees.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/0adff76ebf0ef2b92d4352b9ed09f87e83d01449f2deb19f3ab8dbba3f559ba1.jpeg

2024-04-03 06:45:07

You can’t convince me the logo designer didn’t mean to imply certain things.
https://circle.gnome.org/

2024-04-02 05:55:00

Macs aren’t bad for gaming because no one makes games for it.
Macs are bad for gaming because if you made games for it, they’re likely to not work with future Mac OS releases and hardware.

2024-03-29 19:55:22

Just received a phone call from Slovenia telling me (in Mandarin) that there’s a problem with my Chinese passport, I need to fix it with the Chinese consulate, but this problem can all go away for a certain price.
For the record, I’ve never had a Chinese passport. 😄

2024-03-22 19:24:59

Shining Force is definitely my favourite turn-based tactical JRPG of all time, and also one of the best games on the SEGA Genesis.
Believe it or not, Shining Force is actual a sequel to an earlier game, Shining in the Darkness. But that was not a tactical JRPG, just a dungeon crawler. Shining Force is where things really got interesting to me since you’re managing a platoon of soldiers.
Strangely, I discovered that SEGA has made recent sequels in this series, most recently Shining Resonance Refrain. I have not played that one, but it is available on PC.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/dc45643ca1ff7491d850141874562659bf81e97b0cba6adef90464f8681832f8.jpg

2024-03-22 08:45:57

You might think I’m pulling off a Palpatine with this poor dolphin.
But as the Empress of the Deep, I assure you that the lightning from my hands actually heals this poor sea creature.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/93066e2b3498a71b5d69cb7fb476bf71f42e2a40630b7681537d7f29ef00740a.file

2024-03-22 03:13:39

This rabbit looked me dead in the eye and was like, “Hey jerkface! Can’t you tell that I’m eating around here?!” 🐰 🐇
https://atomicpoet.org/media/903f8e5c6e47869e38a785650eb14ec008a976b692a320a43f0fcba44144314e.file

2024-03-21 22:21:07

Threads has successfully federated with atomicpoet.org.
So all questions about whether or not they will federate have been answered. More to the point, Threads is federating with my personal server.
There were doubts about Threads would allow federation with single-user and small user servers. There were also questions about whether they’d allow federation with non-Mastodon servers.
Well, I’m running an Akkoma+Mangane server that has two active users on it. And federation with Threads is indeed working.
@npub1gsm…5y8l
#note1cfe…0a4z

2024-03-21 12:10:41

Yes, if you visit atomicpoet.org, you will see a login screen. That’s on purpose.
You can view local accounts here if you know a particular profile URL. However, viewing the federated feed is forbidden without authentication.
For good reason, most content here is hidden. This is a private Fediverse server.

2024-03-21 05:03:32

My kid just got herself a swanky pink badminton bag and she’s super hyped about it.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/1cdb8b66ecaa35e81e31a925b9b5ba8d240a1d1d3343f31c27b2c3f5caf1f90f.jpeg

2024-03-18 21:27:54

Released in 2001, Red Faction is a first person shooter (FPS) that’s inspired by Total Recall. It is the first game in the Red Faction series.
In this game, you play a fellow moving to Mars in search of a better life. Soon, you find yourself in appalling working conditions, working yourself to the bone in a mine. Exploited and abused by the company that “employs” you, soon you find yourself in the middle of a miner’s rebellion against the Ultor Corporation.
For years, I’ve owned this game on PlayStation 2. I’ve always enjoyed it but had the nagging suspicion that it could be better. Yesterday, I finally took the plunge and bought it on Steam. Nagging suspicion confirmed: Red Faction is much, much better as a PC game.
No longer constrained by a Dual Shock controller, I’ve discovered that Red Faction is a joy to play with keyboard and mouse, or even with a touchpad on my Steam Deck. And this is a game that demands accuracy because the AI of the enemies is actually quite impressive. You can’t just stand and shoot. This game is all about accuracy while strafing.
I’m happy about the improved controls because those guards are real bastards. I hate them. They are the biggest cowards I’ve ever encountered in an FPS, continually running away from my fire, pleading with me not to shoot, and then shooting me when I take pity on them. It therefore fills me joy to shoot them, burn them, or explode them in every which manner.
That’s one other good thing Red Faction has. It’s got a wonderful assortment of fun weaponry. I got pistols, shotguns, flamethrowers, and rocket launcher. But I also got bombs with remote detonators that often uncover secrets areas on the map. And I love detonating these bombs!
The other big improvement over the PS2 version of Red Faction is in the graphical department. This should shock nobody because, out of the gate, the PC version of Red Faction had higher resolution and a better framerate even back in 2001. Nevertheless, on a modern flat panel display, experiencing this was a treat.
Sadly, the sound design is not as good as the graphics. The voiceover work was okay for the time, and I like the ambient effects all right. But it’s quite jarring when you hear music, you’re grooving to it, and then a loading screen pop ups and the music completely disappears.
My biggest gripe with this game is saving. Simply put, there is no auto-save. You must save manually, and do it often. This often takes you out of the flow of the game since, in the thick of action, you have to remind yourself, “I better save or else I’ll lose my progress should I die.” In fairness to Red Faction, autosave was rare in 2001, so I’m not too upset with this.
Red Faction runs on most modern PCs. You need a Pentium II 400Mhz CPU, 64MB of RAM, and 8MB of VRAM. While it was released natively on Windows and Mac, Linux can run it great via Proton. It’s quite playable on my Steam Deck.
In addition to PC, Red Faction was released for PS2, PS3, and PS4.
There are no micro-transactions nor DLC for this game.
Volition developed Red Faction, and this was their first major hit. Afterwards, they made the Saint’s Row series, Homefront, and Agents of Mayhem. Sadly, the studio became a victim of Embracer Group and was forced to close its doors last year.
Red Faction on Steam has an 86% positive rating based on 2,059 reviews. Meanwhile, GOG.com gives this a 3.5/5 rating for verified owners. Most people agree that this is a classic FPS that’s fun to play even now. A few detractors feel that this is a buggy game that doesn’t play nice on higher resolution monitors.
On my Steam Deck, I don’t mind the 1024x768 resolution since I’m using a 780p 8” screen anyway. But if you want a better experience for modern displays, it’s probably better for you to install the Dash Faction mod, which will allow higher resolutions and fixes a few glitches.
The regular price on both Steam and GOG.com is C$13.99, although the GOG.com version is DRM-free. However, as part of Steam spring sale, Red Faction is currently -80% off, and is being sold for C$2.79.
When Red Faction first game out, it was a big hit. And while it often gets lost in the shuffle when we talk about great FPS games, I think it deserves to be played. Red Faction has a whole lot of attitude and action.
I definitely recommend Red Faction. When I first installed this game on my Steam Deck, I expected to fiddle with it for five minutes before trying something else. But soon Red Faction brought me deep into its world. Red Faction is pure fun, and I enjoy it immensely.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/dc68cee1399085c1d26bc0735caa2389237a6479a774264926df4d1c6035d12d.jpg
https://atomicpoet.org/media/445a4788f48fa25283ed06ad8e7efaaca6c217cbb9f9682cd2b0c89266326f56.jpg
https://atomicpoet.org/media/26c0314343556e51acea74523d27aea065f7fd6dfd14f2bb5145f1929745a164.jpg
https://atomicpoet.org/media/a0af42c6080600560d8d27628d88e39fe495dedbadb5da1b57079d1a6d5172fc.jpg

2024-03-17 22:01:13

Today, I discovered there’s a Japanese video game publisher called “Atari” that’s totally unrelated to the Atari we all know and love.
I’m talking about Natsume Atari, the makers of Kirby: Squeak Squad, Kamen Rider, and Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising.
Now where does the “Atari” in their name come from? In 2002, Natsume Co., Ltd. founded Atari Inc., and eventually merged with it in 2013 – renaming itself Natsume Atari. Again, not the current French-American company called Atari Inc., but a company that makes pachinko machines.
Natsume Co., Ltd. is not to be confused with Natsume Inc., which used to be the American subsidiary of Natsume Co., Ltd. – but is now its own company. Natsume Inc., the publisher of Harvest Moon. Even more confusingly, now Natsume Inc. has a Japanese division called Natsume Inc. Japan that has no connection whatsoever to Nastume Atari.
And to make this whole thing more bizarre, Bandai Namco is the direct successor of both the original Atari Japan, used to own a large chunk of Atari Games (hence Tengen), and bought Atari Europe from Atari Inc. No, not the Japanese Atari Inc., but the French-American company that owns the current Atari brand.
Anyway, if you’re from Japan, please send me a picture of an Atari pachinko machine!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natsume_Atari

2024-02-29 23:15:55

Sheryl Crow - C’Mon, C’Mon (2002)
I love Sheryl Crow. She has a great voice, writes her own songs, and produces them too. Not only that, she rocks.
Case in point, “Soak Up the Sun”. That was a summer jam. I remember hearing it during a hot July while in a 7-Eleven pouring myself a slurpee. Good times.
But the mastering is brutal. The dynamic range is squelched. Hearing this is like hearing a band in a metal coffee tin.
Someday, I hope this album gets remastered.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/4c1f05ab-9b77-4637-bdf7-b58e1732de49/file

2024-02-29 03:57:34

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@npub1eu5…3nau I wasn’t about to find Nos on the App Store. Is it still in beta?

2024-02-29 01:55:27

Hey @npub1eu5…3nau, are you still making social media apps? If so, which ones?

2024-02-28 03:49:14

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Another “gag”: gay men are campy and over-the-top, and clearly exist for straight women’s entertainment.
The gay bar in this film is also called “The Glory Hole”.
Hardy har har.

2024-02-28 03:45:42

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Turns out, I don’t like movies about asshole divorce attorneys with no redeeming qualities.

2024-02-28 03:25:01

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I understand why men would watch rom-coms featuring overgrown man-children. It’s wish fulfillment.
But why would women want to watch a film featuring overgrown man-children? I can’t imagine any person aspiring to be a relationship with them.

2024-02-28 03:13:28

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Kenan Thompson is also in this film. He deserves a better movie than this.

2024-02-28 03:06:55

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Oooh! Eric Roberts is in this movie! It must be terrible!
Don’t get me wrong, Eric Roberts can be a good actor, but he’s almost always in terrible movies.

2024-02-28 03:02:34

My next movie is The Opposite Sex (2014) starring Mena Suvari, Kristin Chenowith, and Geoff Stults. This movie is also known as A Bet’s A Bet.
Here’s the description:
The story of Vince, New England’s most successful divorce attorney. To Vince, life is one big competition, and losing is unacceptable. This also applies in his dating life with his love ‘em and leave ‘em approach. Then Vince meets Jane, who is beautiful, successful and also extremely driven. Together they enter into a series of entertaining wagers with each other where the winner gets to decide the fate of the loser.
This is a rom-com. I make no bones about this: it will probably be terrible.
You might be wondering why I’ll be watching this. Part of it is that, yes, I’m completely willing to suffer through an awful movie. But also, I’m hoping that this movie will be memorably bad.
iMDB rates this a 4.4. I’m willing to be wrong about my prediction, but I have low expectations.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/78783ef5-5bcc-4f47-8ed3-8089b8358bb3/MV5BNzg1NDA5NjQyNV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwMjQyNjM1MjE%40._V1_.jpg

2024-02-27 04:00:42

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Talk about foreshadowing! A key aspect of this film is Alex Baldwin killing someone due to negligence.
And let me remind you that Alex Baldwin directed this film!

2024-02-27 03:29:29

Now I’m watching Shortcut to Happiness starring Anthony Hopkins, Alec Baldwin, and Jennifer Love Hewitt.
This is a stellar cast. It should be good.
Unfortunately, it was a giant box office bomb. It had a $30 million dollar budget, yet only earned $686,846. A number isn’t missing there, it did that poorly.
I suspect marketing had something to do with this disaster. The poster indicates that this is a rom-com, but it’s more like a fantasy comedy.
Here’s the description:
A down-and-out writer sells his soul to the devil in exchange for fame and fortune.
Apparently, this is based on the “The Devil and Daniel Webster” written by Stephen Vincent Benét back in 1936.
iMDB scores this a 5.4, which indicates a perfectly mediocre move. But we’ll see.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/d449170f-32e0-40c8-bff0-e9ffdd23ac70/MV5BNDBhMTc1ZjgtNTY4MC00NWRjLWIzNDQtYWRjM2E5MTEyNjFlXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTMxMTY0OTQ%40._V1_FMjpg_UX1000_.jpg

2024-02-25 03:00:18

My next movie is The Meddler (2016) starring Susan Sarandon, Rose Byrne, and J.K. Simmons.
It’s about an aging widow who follows her daughter to LA to start a new life.
Yes, it’s a rom-com. I know many of you don’t like rom-coms. However… Susan Sarandon.
Come on, don’t pretend you don’t like Susan Sarandon. She has always had it going on, and she will always be watchable in anything she does. If I have an excuse to watch Susan Sarandon, then I will
And as a bonus, we got J.K. Simmons too. He’s also very watchable.
iMDB rates this a 6.3, which means this is probably a good rom-com.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/b716d5cf-5bb7-4d08-a53f-6e9630bb8d6f/MV5BMTc0NDQ2Njk4Nl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwMTQwMDMyODE%40._V1_FMjpg_UX1000_.jpg

2024-02-23 07:47:10

Really?! Google is labelling a Geminispace search engine as a malware site?
I think that’s pretty dodgy on Google’s part.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/05c59595-98a5-48dc-b9f5-953bc492b24f/file

2024-02-23 03:54:46

Reddit just offered me stock at institutional investor prices, through a DSP program, prior to their IPO.
I’m guessing they’re offering me this because I’ve been an active Redditor for 16 years, have provided a volume of content, and am a moderator or a major subreddit.
The gesture is appreciated. Unfortunately, because I’m not a U.S. resident, I cannot participate. Nevertheless, this is a nice acknowledgement of all the work I put into that side.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/b34ac406-f4be-46e3-8552-ee0158e18353/file

2024-02-20 04:25:25

There should be some sort of organization—maybe a co-op or non-profit—that represents the interests of single-user and small scale Fediverse servers.

2024-02-19 00:03:58

I am a small server operator. It’s now been at least four days that this spam problem continues to be an issue.
By now, every admin should be taking steps to mitigate spam. If you aren’t taking necessary steps, I may have to make some #Fediblock recommendations.
I will give you all a few more days to get your houses in order. After which, I will be adding URLs to #Fediblock.

2024-02-17 20:38:26

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@npub1jve…nmhu Funky Duck is a much better song than Disco Duck.

2024-02-15 04:21:36

Regarding the “ActivityPub vs. Bluesky” controversy, I’m getting tired of the tech press treating the Fediverse as though it’s some sort of hivemind. So if you’re a journalist who’s following me, please know this:
I am part of the Fediverse. I don’t base my opinions, decisions, or actions on the whims of a mob. Nor do I base things on an unwritten “social code” – which no one has exactly articulated in any exact detail.
I make my own judgements based on my own values, not the mob’s.
And my judgement says that if the majority of interactions on Bluesky prove to be negative, I will block the bridge – just as I have with Nostr.
I speak for myself. Do not mistake the mob’s opinion for my own.

2024-02-06 04:36:46

Recently, one of my favourite music discoveries is the rapper Yuno Miles.
WARNING: Don’t listen unless you like bad music.
https://youtu.be/6FFgv38nasQ

2024-01-20 03:41:20

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@npub182s…q6t5 Not going to lie, me too.

2024-01-20 02:12:04

This retro gamer just bragged to me that his “complete in box” NES collection cost him more than the price of my car.
He thinks he’s flexing but I see a fool who’s easily parted with his money.
Let me just say this. Everything valuable that I own was bought during a time nobody wanted them.
My Polaroid 600 Business Edition was bought for $3 at a thrift shop. My Jackson 5 album “Maybe Tomorrow” in reel-to-reel format was $20. My Kenwood KD-500 turntable was literally rescued from the trash, and I restored it with love and care.
Same deal with my video game collection. I bought everything when nobody gave a damn about old video games.
For example, my PSOne was $10. The seller gave me 50 games. He didn’t sell them to me, he gave them to me.
I bought my original Xbox for $30. Nobody cared about the original Xbox. They still don’t, but I guarantee you that the original Xbox will never sell for $30 ever again.
Just last month, I bought 13 Command & Conquer games, complete in box, for $10. Not $10 each, but $10 together. When will I ever be able to buy physical editions of Command & Conquer for that price ever again?
Owning a CIB copy of Final Fantasy VII is impressive. But you know what’s more impressive?
Paying $30,000 for a handful of “complete in box” NES games is not a flex. Caring about stuff nobody cares about, and preserving it – that’s the real flex.

2024-01-14 00:03:45

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@npub10pe…gfe4 Because Romania is a total Chad.

2024-01-10 02:32:07

Oh my God. I’m tired of PC gamers – but also gamers in general – badmouthing emulation.
I’m sorry, but most people don’t have an old beige box PC with a Pentium CPU and CRT monitor. That’s simply not an option for 99% of people out there. If they want to play old DOS games, they need DOSBox. Yes, it’s not perfect. Nothing is.
But if you want to play the original game on new hardware, not some re-make that pretends to be the original, then emulation is the answer.

2024-01-10 01:38:41

Why was a 32-year-old woman pretending to be a 13-year-old girl in order to enrol in high school?
But more importantly, why were other people helping her?
https://www.nbcboston.com/news/local/woman-accused-of-posing-as-boston-student-used-identity-of-child-in-state-custody-as-alias/3217662/

2024-01-08 23:38:53

Interesting essay on the movie Falling Down, but I think the essayist misses the point about William Foster.
William Foster wasn’t “the little guy”. He was an upper middle class white man who believed he was entitled to social privilege.
It’s unlikely he was fired from his job because he was “economically unviable”, but most likely because his anti-social behaviour affected his job.
At the beginning of the movie, he wasn’t going to work. He was going to his ex-wife’s house to stalk her – and perhaps murder his entire family too.
His wife may have felt that the restraining order was unnecessary, but the problem is that she, herself, is an unreliable narrator. Oftentimes, people in abusive relationships will defend their abusers even if they know they are being abused. Society generally frowns on people who self-identify as victims, which is why – even if you are a victim of abuse – you will minimize your status as a victim.
William Foster may have not seen himself as an outright Nazi, but then again, neither do people with Nazi sympathies.
For the entirety of the movie, William Foster’s intent wasn’t to be “right” – it was to “win”. And we see that with the fast food scene where, even when he was late for breakfast, he still insisted on getting his way.
Sure, his actions can be seen as critiques of capitalism, but just because someone critiques capitalism doesn’t mean they are looking for progressive alternatives. Fascists critique capitalism all the time – which is why so many self-identified “socialists” end up being Nazi sympathizers. Hitler, himself, knew this, which is why he identified his movement as “National Socialism”.
The only solution William Foster seeks regarding what he perceives as society’s ills is authoritarianism. Specifically, himself as an authority. And why is this? Because he sees himself as entitled to it. This is why he shot a bazooka at the roadway.
I, myself, don’t think Falling Down is a great film. I don’t like how they handled the character of Sergeant Pendergrast, specifically as a defender of the status quo.
But to cast William Foster as an “everyman” misses the point. He’s clearly not an everyman, just someone who sees himself as society’s default.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ji94tMVjNm8

2024-01-05 03:28:44

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Septerra Core
In 1999, the USA’s answer to Final Fantasy VII was released, and it was exclusive to the PC. But because of publisher shenanigans, few people got to play it. Well, I’m telling you that Septerra Core is a treat, with an incredible story and memorable characters. What’s more, this is one of the first Western-made JRPGs ever made.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/2468beca-2d38-40b7-902a-9d51bda8d9c8/Septerra%20Core%204.jpg

2024-01-05 03:23:25

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System Shock
I’ve heard many people talk about this game, but until this year, I had never played it. Yes, this is not only one of the best FPS games ever made, but it is the most immersive too. This is not just about shooting, it’s about using your brain and solving problems. Modern gaming wouldn’t be what it is without System Shock.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/7088993f-be8a-40cf-b15f-3e0a6f426c55/System%20Shock%202.jpg

2024-01-05 03:17:06

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Anodyne
Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom are great, but do you ever miss classic 2D Zelda? Come on, I know you do! Well, Anodyne is everything good about classic Zelda, but with a dreamy twist.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/95682f16-d001-4fe7-ba06-c200181238cd/Anodyne%203.jpg

2024-01-05 02:52:08

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Mibibli’s Quest
If you’re an old school gamer like myself, you probably think you’ve played every variation of a 2D platformer possible. You are wrong. Mibibli’s Quest is one of the most surreal, unpredictable, and imaginative games I’ve ever played. At virtually every moment, you will be surprised.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/0ada4ecf-67d8-4be1-b634-360bc1fc8ac4/Mibibli%27s%20Quest%202.jpg

2024-01-04 03:23:00

I have no sympathy for parents who murder their children. Absolutely none—even if they kill themselves in prison.
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/lisa-batstone-life-sentence-dies-prison-1.7073431

2023-12-14 09:03:31

It’s important for people with autism to not assume that their experience is universal with everyone else who is autistic.

2023-11-14 18:04:11

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Water whispers against skin, a cascade of liquid fingers tracing contours, a delicate tango of touch and retreat. A hand emerges, drips like honey, slow, deliberate, the curve of a wrist an unspoken invitation.
Liquid clings, reluctant to leave the warmth, droplets lingering like soft kisses, a silent song. In the ripple and flow, every splash a secret shared, every ripple a caress beneath the surface.
Light shimmers, plays upon the liquid drapery, a movement of shadows and brilliance. The world holds its breath, succumbs to the ripple of water and flesh, a single hand declaring all the fervour of a heart unspoken.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/efc0b087-a46c-48f7-8f4a-bc67bf4aa603/9140842f70a7c1a82a05bcc03a5dd54b.jpg

2023-11-14 17:54:43

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I found this Yugoslavian computer magazine, called “Računari 4” published in February/March 1985. It seems to be comparing Commodore, Sinclair Spectrum, Atari, and Amstrad computers. It also comments on a certain catalogue of games, and it offers advice on “modern” programming techniques.
In 1984, Yugoslavia actually boasted a few technical firsts when it comes to computing. It was here that the first 16-bit microcomputer, the PMP-11, was made. But the home-grown computing scene clearly paled in comparison to cheaper foreign-made microcomputers like the Commodore 64.
I have heard rumours of the Galaksija computer. It was designed to be built at home from readily available parts, thus bypassing import restrictions and making technology accessible to a broader segment of the population. What I would give to get my hands on one.
But it’s amazing how this magazine cover captures the zeitgeist of the era’s technology boom. The wireframe hand reaching towards a vibrant, starburst-like pattern evokes a sense of touching the future. It makes you feel like technology was becoming more accessible, within the grasp of the common person.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/18dd7f2b-a363-4446-8ec4-7e9fdfa07cc1/RA8502-00.jpg

2023-11-14 17:30:06

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What is a person without the distinguishing marks of individuality? What remains when the details that tether us to reality are wiped away, leaving only the echo of a presence?
https://atomicpoet.org/media/8888970c-77a5-4088-a153-d34fb25e1d58/94dfe4e4aeaa53953dbd9d3c661729df.jpg

2023-11-13 08:03:28

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The Commodore 1084 is high on my wishlist of lust-worthy retro gadgets. Despite having a Commodore 64, I had no monitor for it. Hell, I had my Commodore hooked up to a black and white TV. Even for the standards of the day, that was a terrible way to experience PC gaming.
But I’ve seen a 1084. The colours were crisp. It had RGB support. It even had a speaker, which was leagues better than other monitors – even monitors made today. And what was particularly nice is that you could hook up a video recorder to the 1084 if you wanted to.
It’s not just about the specs though. The thing looks sharp. It’s got that classic Commodore vibe that just feels right. It’s like this: I don’t just want a 1084 to play games. I want it because it’s the full package, the real deal. I mean, firing up Turrican on that screen? That’s the dream. It’s about getting that authentic, old-school gaming experience—bright, bold, and loud. Just the way it was meant to be.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/5ac407ec-b495-478e-aeb3-0a46e04af982/bb2e5c0580a7d6504d25f29f4c31a143.jpg

2023-11-08 00:30:47

Most people I know are console gamers. As a result, PC gaming has weirdly resulted in me living in a bizarre timeline where games that are a big deal to me are completely unknown to everyone else.
What games am I talking about?
Civilization
Shadow Warrior
Titan Quest
Divine Divinity
Gorky 17
Screamer
Nosferatu: The Wrath of Malachi
Blood
Jill of the Jungle
Bio Menace
It makes me wonder: am I the only who thinks these games are classics? Are there actually people out there who have played these games and loved them?
How is it possible that so many people I know own computers but are completely oblivious about the fact you can actually play games on them?

2023-11-07 07:44:59

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As twilight deepens,
a n d s t a r s t a k e flight,
m y d e a r,
L e t ‘ s journey
t o w a r d s the golden glow
s o c l e a r.
A feast awaits
in the evening’s tender embrace,
U n d e r the arches,
where dreams interlace.
The night’s young heartbeat,
a rhythm so right,
C a l l s us to savor,
i n the soft moonlight.
L e t ‘ s indulge in a dance
where flavors u n i t e,
At McDonald’s, where
evening turns to night.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/ac7d3971-dede-4ae8-ad3f-31a893e9bcd3/a7620701887e08042cfa5184a0c7b2b2.jpg

2023-11-07 07:18:02

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Dawn or dusk, the light it bends Around these frames, a message sends Glow like a screensaver’s quiet rest Modern shapes, by sunlight dressed
The sky’s soft palette whispers peace Windows crack to the sighing breeze The day’s last note, the night’s first sign In this still building, where timelines align
Heartbeats fall in sync with cursor’s blink In the hushed air, our spirits sink
https://atomicpoet.org/media/644effad-438d-41e1-a20a-77edcaca5c2b/c5a7f8b63a168809b2c7fefb7cfe6bc4.jpg

2023-10-31 07:09:09

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I’ve got the brutalism blues, white and red—oh, how the concrete’s bled! Standing by giants, I felt both the tiniest ant and the mightiest chant. The blues? Not just sadness, not just shade, but reflections of the decades, where history was made.
Tick-tack-toe, my steps echo, bouncing off stark facades, catching tomorrow’s glow. Red pulsating passions, white screaming hue, these towers of ambition, old meets the new.
Trees swaying, leaves playing, their whispers soft. Nature’s caress meets our bold mess, a dance – no more, no less.
Concrete tales, where dream sails, I feel the rhythm, the city’s anthem. It’s jazz in stone, it’s a saxophone playing a tune, under the moon. Staccato beats, the city never sleeps, it weeps, it leaps.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/d6a856f7-73ab-42d4-a02d-5d894c9b1a2c/857dec78650f0fcab3fb4e4259149afc.jpg

2023-10-31 06:54:47

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“Yeah, fuck you, nothingness!” Marie shouted into the void, her voice echoing in the silence of the night. The wind carried her words, making them resonate with the power of her spirit.
Alex, nodding in agreement, added, “We won’t be defeated. Not by you, not by anyone.”
https://atomicpoet.org/media/08b3cd3f-2a72-4b5f-b90a-d40ca25c8257/60e65fcee6846374f34e044107f80238.jpg

2023-10-30 17:20:41

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I no longer drink, and I probably won’t ever drink again.
There’s many things I miss about drinking, but there’s also one thing I definitely don’t miss: overpowering nausea.
Hangovers are pretty bad. But mostly, when hangovers happened, I was in bed alone – dealing with the consequences of my terrible decisions. However, nausea was unpredictable, striking without warning. And every time I’d try to minimize or delay it, that would just make things worse. Beyond the physical discomfort, the social implications were equally, if not more, distressing.
(Photo credit: Rachel Leighton)
https://atomicpoet.org/media/dc52648b-37ba-45dc-a5ca-d7f77426fa51/acc276e4482690660d8e7019194b7138.jpg

2023-10-30 17:01:16

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The darkness of the bar was perfect. I eagerly awaited my drink, having heard legends about the flaming concoctions served here. When the bartender slid the glass towards me, the blue and orange flames danced on top of the liquid.
My heart raced as I hesitated for a moment, feeling both excitement and a hint of fear. Taking a deep breath, I followed the bartender’s instructions, blowing out the fire and quickly taking a sip.
The warmth and unique flavor washed over me, making the experience both thrilling and unforgettable.
(Photo credit: Rachel Leighton)
https://atomicpoet.org/media/3ebdbf4c-6663-4252-a8eb-7a55e280c0d1/IMG_5471.jpeg

2023-10-30 16:47:50

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In RPGs, magic is called “mana”—and I’ve always wondered why.
It turns out “mana” has a connection to the mo’ai of Rapa Nui (a.k.a., Easter Island). You see, in Melanesian and Polynesian cultures across Oceania, there is a belief that there’s a life force that can be cultivated for energy and power. To have mana is to have influence and authority.
When the people of Papa Nui carved the mo’ai, it is said that they infused them with mana.
The reason RPG game designers introduced the concept of mana—instead of a general magic—is because they needed to explain both why it is limited and why it must be cultivated.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/31d3f5e7-218b-4f4a-8304-89021a0423ba/IMG_5470.jpeg

2023-10-30 16:20:50

In the dim light of the terminal, the low hum of distant conversations merges with the distant sounds of machinery. The weariness of airports—a space caught between departures and arrivals, hellos and goodbyes.
People move like shadows, dragging their burdens, not just in the form of suitcases, but the weight of time lost, connections missed, and the unending pursuit of destinations.
This steel and glass transience—the relentless ticking of the clock—confronts the quest for solace, which is hard to come by with the surveillance cameras, passport checks, and security protocols.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/922957d4-c237-435b-ba17-d3ef4cf92299/IMG_5469.jpeg

2023-10-30 06:43:53

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It was one of those perfect summer nights. The air was just cool enough to need a light jacket, but warm enough that you could still feel the heat of the day on the asphalt beneath your feet.
Streetlights flickered on, casting a soft glow that danced with the twilight. Lexi, Mia, and Jake took advantage of the dying light, laughing and racing each other down the winding streets The weight of the world was momentarily forgotten.
“Dare you to race me to the old oak tree!” Lexi shouted, taking off at full speed with Mia and Jake hot on her heels. Every so often, one of them would trip or stumble, only to be pulled up by the others, laughter echoing in still night air.
By the time they reached the tree, they were all out of breath. Lying on their backs, they stared up at the stars overhead, hands intertwined, feeling the steady rhythm of each other’s heartbeats.
(Photo credit: Kat Elreda)
https://atomicpoet.org/media/10a538c1-cf12-48a1-9eca-9568e9a1136f/a5f4e1853c872de07c6c0625682e23de.jpg

2023-10-30 06:31:11

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Standing by the water in Vancouver with my college buddies, we were buzzing with excitement. We heard this year’s Celebration of Light was going to be epic, and couldn’t wait to see it for ourselves. The air was chilly, but the vibe was warm.
Suddenly, the sky lit up. Fireworks shot up, bursting into brilliant colours. Reds, blues, greens - it was a giant, colourful party in the sky. Every time a firework exploded, we’d cheer or just let out a big “whoa!” We were in awe, soaking in the magic.
Being there with friends made it even more special. We joked around, sang a bit, and sometimes just stood silently, watching the lights dance in the sky. Everything just clicked. We were all on the same page, enjoying the moment.
When the last firework faded, we stood there for a bit, letting it all sink in. Things were changing. We were growing up and heading in different directions. But right then, nothing else mattered. We were just friends, having the time of our lives.
And that was the last time I truly felt free.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/8ac119ec-4301-4266-9d4f-cd3ffbfb355a/4d20fbeab6c8d96290b138ac4ed9456b.jpg

2023-10-30 05:52:09

<!DOCTYPE html>
<html lang="en">
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
<title>Wave Animation</title>
<style>
canvas {
border: 1px solid black;
}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<canvas id="waveCanvas"></canvas>
<script>
const canvas = document.getElementById("waveCanvas");
const ctx = canvas.getContext("2d");
canvas.width = window.innerWidth;
canvas.height = window.innerHeight;
// I always crave
// Hypnotic waves
// Rolling to shore
// Eternal, more
let waveY = canvas.height / 2;
const amplitude = 50;
const frequency = 0.01;
let increment = 0.05;
function animate() {
requestAnimationFrame(animate);
ctx.clearRect(0, 0, canvas.width, canvas.height);
ctx.beginPath();
for (let x = 0; x < canvas.width; x++) {
const y = waveY + Math.sin(x * frequency + increment) * amplitude;
ctx.lineTo(x, y);
}
ctx.strokeStyle = "blue";
ctx.stroke();
increment += 0.05;
}
animate();
</script>
</body>
</html>
https://atomicpoet.org/media/81586532-8fa8-42bd-8baa-4624b3406caa/7ec13e23da89be3a4e51397dcfd54bfc.jpg

2023-10-29 23:21:08

A few years ago, Chrissy Takagawa wrote an excellent post called Sizz Culture: Its Aesthetic Meaning. It’s very good, and she caught onto many of its themes:
1- Sizz is about expressing a feeling or emotion without the need to explain it in words
2- Sizz is an outgrowth of are-bure-boke
3- Sizz was inspired by art theorist Hito Steyerl’s essay “In Defense of the Poor Image”
All those blurry lo-fi images were a conscious effort to reveal the interior of the mind and try to reflect it visually.
https://www.reddit.com/r/ArtHistory/comments/gv1csi/sizz_culture_its_aesthetic_meaning/

2023-10-29 22:46:27

A few more thoughts on Sizz Culture and why it didn’t work out as I planned:
1- I tried to convey an overarching story without words, told purely by own photos as well as photos I collected. No one picked up on the story.
2- People understood it was an aesthetic but they only understood it as an “Internet aesthetic”—they didn’t understand that there was an ethos despite what was said clearly.
3- I depended too much on Reddit, which was a big mistake. Never make art in a space someone might claim as their property.
If you’re making an aesthetic, don’t call it an aesthetic. Let the critics figure that out if they ever discover your work.
But definitely create a story, which is what I’m doing now.

2023-10-29 21:39:37

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The sky, painted with hues of gold and silver reflects my restless heart. The clouds, with their whimsical shapes, appears like the fleeting thoughts.
The grass beneath my feet, an endless sea of green, sways to the whispers of the wind. Each blade, unique, has a unique moment imprinted onto it. They seem to beckon me, inviting me to lay down and lose myself in their embrace, to become one with the Dreamlands.
The serenity is occasionally interrupted by the gentle shimmering of what seems to be a dream bubble. Within each bubble, a different vision, a different world. I reach out, trying to touch one, and for a fleeting moment, I’m transported. I see mountains reaching out to the stars, oceans with waters of liquid silver, and cities made of pure light. Each vision more enchanting than the last, pulling me deeper into the enigma.
A gentle breeze hugs my face. The wind seems to be the messenger of the Dreamlands, carrying with it unknown pleasures.
I wonder, am I a dreamer in someone else’s dream? The boundaries blur, and I realize that maybe, just maybe, the Dreamlands and the waking world are not so different after all.
The horizon beckons, promising mysteries unveiled. With a deep breath, I take a step forward, ready to explore, to discover, and to dream. For in the Dreamlands, I am free - free to be, free to feel, and free to live in the boundless realm of imagination.
(Photo credit: Rachel Leighton)
https://atomicpoet.org/media/7d668490-807a-4f4a-97cd-f8b7f750beb4/16974f768efe5112cf4f7d12b1bb95d9.jpg

2023-10-29 21:26:37

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Sometimes I just want to get lost near the verdant rolling hills that bank the ocean’s shore. The hues of the sky change with every passing hour, reflecting the universe and drawing us into its endless embrace. Every blade of grass, every rustling leaf, seems to whisper secrets lost to time.
We find a secluded spot. The cool air, laced with the briny scent of the sea, dances around us, sending chills down our spine. We huddle closer, seeking solace in each other’s presence, finding warmth in memories and dreams – as well as a blanket. I want so much to get lost forever here, never to be found.
With a trusty Game Boy in hand, the beeps and chiptunes become our backdrop. We challenge each other, laugh at our mistakes, and celebrate little victories like we just won gold at the Olympics.
But as the sky deepens and the stars begin their celestial dance, the games are set aside. Our gazes lock, words becoming unnecessary. In that shared silence, dreams pass between us. The world may be vast but all that matters is our unspoken words.
Amidst the rolling hills by the ocean’s shore, we’ve become lost to the world but found in each other’s hearts.
(Photo credit: Rachel Leighton)
https://atomicpoet.org/media/a01533a6-f16d-4dff-bb42-789396edc6b2/69b4f28008263ce3d8dfb71a7d17dc0e.jpg

2023-10-29 21:10:30

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Steel clank, echoing halls Seats vacant, distant calls City’s pulse, window walls Shadows long, daylight falls
Stickers on a cold floor Guidance, rules, urban lore Tunnel’s depth, subway’s core Blue hue, silence more and more
Metro hums, a lone ride Passengers elsewhere reside Travel’s pause, worlds divide Azure quiet, deep inside.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/dba7b1d7-a03d-4083-9384-d462ced86850/f842a6e1cb74970204030928718d6d70.jpg

2023-10-29 20:54:16

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She was my fire. She lit up my darkness. Every flame held a memory, keeping me warm when alone. Her presence was a lantern, promising light even in the darkest times.
She was my fire. She burned with intensity. Her flames were a hypnotizing. Sparks were moments, embers our history.
She was my fire. Love and rage in one. Sometimes she blazed; other times she waned. Her unpredictability was her nature.
She was my fire. But fires don't last. The winds changed, her light dimmed. Despite my efforts, she faded away.
She was my fire. Now, only memories remain. The warmth is gone, replaced by cold. Her absence, a reminder -- life is fleeting.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/54666d87-9dda-4716-ac99-66b81f71b857/e0aafb8cd5a15e7991f696743f5189ff.jpg

2023-10-29 20:36:34

In the dim glow of the terminal, Walter sat alone, the weight of years resting heavily on his shoulders. The hum of distant footsteps and murmurs of the PA system barely registered in his ears. He had been coming to this terminal for what felt like a lifetime, always waiting, always hoping.
“So many miles away…” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible amidst the vastness of the space. Memories of a time long gone played before him like a silent film—images of a black Cadillac revving after he got his first big raise, children playing pinball at the laundromat, midnight coffee at diners.
As the minutes turned into hours, Walter’s thoughts began to dance with an arpeggio rhythm. One step, two steps, three steps, four… He remembered the dance lessons he and his wife, Eleanor, took in their early days. The way their feet moved in synchrony, the shared laughter when one would make a misstep. How they would sway to the music, lost in each other’s embrace.
He remembered their first awkward kiss. Her laughter made him second-guess himself for a heartbeat, wondering if he had missed the mark. But then, her gaze, heavy with desire, met his, and she returned his kiss with fervor.
But as the years passed, Eleanor’s steps grew fainter. They danced less, and Walter found himself often waiting. Waiting at home, waiting at the hospital, and now, waiting at this terminal, hoping to catch a glimpse of her once more, if only in spirit.
A breeze stirred, bringing with it the faint scent of lavender—Eleanor’s favorite. Walter smiled. For a brief moment, he felt her presence beside him, as if she had never left.
The terminal seemed less empty now. Walter stood up, ready to move on, still carrying with him memories.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/795bc6d9-af50-476d-800d-eab207eba76e/f58e2dfa2cd5166a86002ec9e5384716.jpg

2023-10-29 08:08:02

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K-Pop Nights: Tensions Rise in Quiet Suburbs
As the sun dips below the horizon in peaceful suburbs, a growing tension starts to stir. K-Pop music, a popular genre from Korea, fills the night air. Young fans, drawn by the catchy beats and dance routines, come out in groups. But these gatherings are not just about music.
In parks, empty lots, and alleyways, fans don’t just share songs. With increasing numbers and louder volumes, their presence has begun to dominate the night. Dances turn competitive, with challenges leading to confrontations. What starts as a simple disagreement over a song choice or dance move can escalate into heated arguments and sometimes even physical altercations.
Neighbors whisper about the “K-Pop gangs.” They speak of ruined gardens, graffiti, and loud arguments that disturb the peace long after midnight. Many feel unsafe, missing the old quiet nights, and worry about where things are heading.
Calls to the local police have spiked. Complaints range from noise disturbances to reports of fights breaking out. The authorities are on high alert, often patrolling known K-Pop hangouts, trying to keep the peace.
In response, some fans are pushing back, claiming they just want to enjoy their music. But with rising tensions and the threat of violence, others are questioning if it’s worth it.
The situation has highlighted a larger issue: the clash between youth seeking an outlet and residents longing for tranquility. As both sides become more entrenched, the community waits with bated breath, hoping for a peaceful resolution but preparing for the possibility of more turbulent nights ahead.
(Note: This is a work of fiction. There are no K-Pop gangs – none that I know about. However, I notice that this same story repeats itself every decade and it’s shocking that more adults don’t get wise to this cyclical panic over youth culture.)
https://atomicpoet.org/media/9dc18b8b-921a-4bb5-8f73-d6b6781c9eee/01d6ee3702642a8254edfa70f5959ed7.jpg

2023-10-29 07:57:47

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Vancouver is a cyberpunk dystopia, and I’m living in it.
Neon lights stab the night, casting a glow on condensation-coated windows. Inside, plants stretch desperately for that faint light. Dew droplets on the glass refract lights, making it appear as if stars now crowd our streets, entrapped by urban confines.
Malls, once the beating heart of the city, now stand empty. Their vacant corridors, silent but for echoes of a more prosperous time, signal an era’s end. The hollowness of abandoned storefronts resonates stories of collapsed dreams and vanished ventures.
Big contrasts define this new reality. Majestic, yet desolate homes cast shadows over the cityscape, while homelessness, cruelly visible, takes over sidewalks and alleyways. These unlit mansions, untouched and untended, tell of the city’s chasm of inequality.
Ramen houses, hidden in nooks, spill scents into dimly lit corners. Inside, people huddle over bowls, a curtain of steam wrapping them in transient warmth. But a silence dominates. Solo diners, engrossed in their meals or digital screens, slurp noodles without exchanging words or glances.
Isn’t this the world William Gibson vividly portrayed? A realm where unchecked technology and capitalism risk the very soul of a city?
https://atomicpoet.org/media/a92ab881-235c-478e-922d-73c2f316c0c7/bbffd15334e65c32040df259d00e8e70.jpg

2023-10-29 07:43:35

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The neon lights scattered their glow through the raindrops on the window, a display of colors that cascaded over the cityscape. From my perch on the 34th floor, Vancouver sprawled below, a vast expanse of steel, glass, and isolated souls. It was another night of relentless rain, each droplet echoing the isolation I felt within.
My apartment, though filled with comforts, felt more like a cage. The alternating blues and reds from the skyscrapers outside cast long, lonely shadows, as if emphasizing the emptiness. There was a palpable energy outside, a life-force radiating from the streets and alleys. But from up here, it all felt distant, as if I was observing a world I no longer belonged to.
The weight of solitude pressed on my chest, making each breath a reminder of the void. With every raindrop that slid down the windowpane, I felt a pang of longing, a desire for connection that remained unfulfilled. The distant hum of traffic, the occasional laughter drifting from a nearby rooftop bar, all seemed to underscore my isolation.
Resting my forehead against the cold glass, I yearned for a touch, a voice, any sign that I wasn’t alone in this vast city. Every fleeting car light seemed like a missed opportunity, a story I would never be a part of.
Pulling myself up from the couch, I decided that tonight, I wouldn’t let the rain be a barrier. I needed to be amidst the heartbeat of the city, even if just as a silent observer. Maybe, just maybe, amidst the neon and rain, I’d find a semblance of the connection I so deeply craved.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/52d2b71f-fd97-4610-a50f-42307b511f1d/9869b810b2c0b5e0c69186085e69db96.jpg

2023-10-29 07:36:41

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The room was filled with a stifling silence, broken only by the distant sound of rain outside. Each drop felt heavy, a cruel reminder of the conversation we just had.
The test results lay sprawled on the table between us, a stark white paper with black letters, an undeniable truth that could not be ignored. The diagnosis was grim, and the prognosis even grimmer. Time, once abundant, now felt like scarce.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I muttered, eyes fixed on the horizon outside, searching for answers in the vast expanse.
“I know,” came the reply. “We were supposed to grow old together, remember? Have grandkids, see the world.”
“Why didn’t you go for the check-up sooner? Why did you ignore the symptoms?” The words were out before I could hold them back.
The reply shot back, “I thought it was nothing. Just fatigue, stress. I didn’t know it would be… this.”
Tears, grief, regret. Decisions needed to be made, treatments discussed, plans altered. The path ahead was uncertain, paved with challenges neither of us were prepared for.
“I’m scared,” the confession was whispered, almost the rain’s rhythmic patter.
“Me too,” I admitted.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/2a1e8a3a-8975-4fe3-b2bb-dd236156bc9b/aed670bf0374140eb89c4ec292c5aa5f.jpg

2023-10-29 07:22:24

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The alley’s rough bricks cradle me. My boots, worn from countless jaunts across town, graze the wet pavement. The scent of stale whiskey, my only true friend, wafts in the air.
Above, the city’s glow casts patterns on my rooftop haven. Distant echoes of laughter and life mix with the rhythmic clinking from my flask. In my fingers, a single gold coin twirls, catching the neon flickers. Its gleam carries an ancient secret, hinting at a hidden pot, safely tucked away within the aisles of the store.
A soft rain starts, and in its mist, a rainbow emerges, its colours stark against the grey sky. This spectral bridge, out of place amidst steel and stone, reminds me of emerald isles.
Come dawn, traces of my nightly journey remain: an emptied flask, a trail of golden coins, and whispers of a myth. As the world stirs, only a few eyes might catch the hint, piecing together the story of the city’s very own leprechaun and his treasure buried in the heart of Walgreens.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/ebd85f5a-088b-42fa-bc11-b4c2440c271a/a8437343022f9c156b4abdb4451fceae.jpg

2023-10-29 07:06:37

In the flop of a penguin's descent, shadows toss pies untold[1],
Quacking replaces solemn words[2], as tales of wobbly jellies unfold.
Mysteries of the rubber chicken sky[3], hiccups reveal tales of sheep,
Urging clowns to leap in shorts[4], where day and night have a disco beat.
In this jiggly, pudding realm[5], where certainties wear neon hats[6],
Bloopers from ancient eras merge with today's digital chats[^7].
By the jiving rhythm of toast[8], spaghetti tales reawaken,
Through the snores of a zebra[9], forgotten pranks are shaken.
In the glow of twinkling disco balls[10], fates' noodles intertwine,
Promising neon dawns ahead[11], where mismatched socks might realign.
---
**Footnotes**:
[1]: The imagery of shadows tossing pies draws upon Erebus and Nyx's relational dynamics in Pre-Socratic conceptualizations of cosmogony. The merging of two seemingly unrelated elements suggests the interplay of light and dark.
[2]: Quacking, replacing the traditional medium of communication, emphasizes the prioritization of natural sounds over constructed languages, reflecting a shift from conventional auditory mediums.
[3]: Invoking the notion of a 'rubber chicken sky' presents an imaginative portrayal of the heavens, a merging of mundane objects with celestial grandeur, reminiscent of Greek mythological reinterpretations.
[4]: The leap of the clown stands as a symbol of unexpected ventures. Drawing from Platonic metaphysics, this represents the unforeseen crossings between realms of understanding.
[5]: The 'pudding realm' serves as a metaphor for the fluid and changing nature of existence, reminiscent of Alarico Gentili's discourses on the impermanence of reality.
[6]: The whimsical image of certainties donning 'neon hats' challenges our traditional understanding of truths, inviting a reevaluation of what we consider concrete.
[^7]: The temporal blending of ancient bloopers with today's digital chats speaks to the cyclical nature of communication, suggesting that while mediums change, the essence of connection remains.
[8]: The rhythmic quality of toast popping signifies the cyclical nature of stories and legends, evoking Zeno's paradoxes on the nature of time and motion.
[9]: The zebra's snores, while seemingly trivial, point towards nature's multifaceted communicative methods, reflecting the intricate web of signals in the natural world.
[10]: Disco balls, in their brilliance and motion, reflect the ever-shifting threads of destiny, echoing Boethian perspectives on the dance of fate and free will.
[11]: 'Neon dawns' symbolize bright new beginnings and possibilities, drawing from Neoplatonic ideals of cyclical rejuvenation and rebirth.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/7ef9ffcd-8695-463a-b872-8f552ca88fe5/3e2b5143c8407df71294a9a0580c6b7b.jpg

2023-10-29 02:06:14

Listen, man, it’s gotten nuts. These cultural Marxists, they’ve been on this canceling spree, right? But now they’re turning on cancel culture itself? It’s like watching a self-devouring beast. For a while, everyone’s been jumping on this bandwagon, canceling left and right. But suddenly, you say you’re on board with cancel culture and they’re gunning for you too? It’s pure insanity.
Free speech. That’s what it’s all about. It’s the foundation of who we are as a nation. But now? Now, it feels like walking on eggshells. Can’t say this, can’t support that. And if you’re even remotely thinking of endorsing the act of canceling someone, they’re coming for you.
This isn’t some political game. It’s about the very principle of open expression and dialogue. And let me tell you, if we’re trying to cancel cancel culture now, where does it end? We need to draw the line somewhere, folks. Those trying to cancel cancel culture? We need to put a stop to that nonsense right now.
(This is a parody of Joe Rogan.)

2023-10-29 01:46:24

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I once met a Dawkins atheist who told me that metaphysics doesn’t exist.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that “Metaphysics doesn’t exist” is itself a metaphysical claim. Let’s break down why this is the case.
At its core, metaphysics is the branch of philosophy that deals with the first principles of things, including abstract concepts such as being, knowing, identity, time, and space. It seeks to understand the nature of reality.
To claim that “metaphysics doesn’t exist” is to make a statement about the nature of reality and knowledge, which is, by definition, a metaphysical claim. To argue for or against the existence of metaphysics, one must engage in metaphysical reasoning. Therefore, even in trying to negate the existence of metaphysics, one ends up relying on it.
In other words, the very act of trying to dismiss metaphysics necessitates its use, creating a sort of paradox. This highlights the foundational role that metaphysics plays in our understanding and articulation of concepts about reality.

2023-10-29 01:04:22

Richard Dawkins: A Harbinger of Modern Enlightenment and “The God Delusion” as the Beacon of Truth
Throughout human history, we have been blessed with figures who illuminate our path, guiding us towards profound truths. In our current age, where myths often blur reality, Richard Dawkins emerges as a beacon, a herald of reason and logic. His book, “The God Delusion,” is more than literature; it is a testament to the one Truth we must all recognize.
A Cry for Reason: As evangelists once spread the message of faith and hope, Dawkins spreads the gospel of reason. He challenges antiquated beliefs, beckoning us towards a brighter, more informed worldview.
The New Revelations: Much like scriptures that guided our ancestors, “The God Delusion” offers revelations for the modern soul. It uncovers truths about our universe, truths grounded in evidence, urging us to break free from the chains of unverified beliefs.
Living a Principled Life: Every scripture imparts values, guiding its adherents towards a righteous path. Dawkins, in his enlightening role, emphasizes the virtues of skepticism, inquiry, and the relentless pursuit of truth. These are the tenets for a life well-lived in our time.
Finding Community in Truth: Just as the early Christians found community in shared faith, there’s a burgeoning congregation of rational seekers around Dawkins’ teachings. This community doesn’t simply believe; it questions, it ponders, it seeks, and it finds.
Witnessing the Divine in Science: The mystic miracles from ancient tales are replaced by tangible wonders in Dawkins’ narrative. From the vast galaxies to the delicate DNA helix, Dawkins presents a world full of awe-inspiring phenomena that can be both seen and proven.
Dear reader, in a world overflowing with varying perspectives and countless beliefs, Dawkins offers clarity, a lucid stream of understanding that cuts through the murk. I beseech you, for your own enlightenment, to delve into “The God Delusion.” Let it be your guide, your scripture, your compass in these complex times. I urge you, with all the fervor of one who has seen the light, to recognize and embrace the one Truth that Dawkins illuminates. The journey towards understanding and enlightenment awaits you. Will you take the first step?
(Note: The above text is parody, and is not to be taken seriously. I am clearly making fun of Richard Dawkins’ sycophantic followers.)

2023-10-28 22:07:04

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Alright, so picture this: It's '78, and I rock up to this disco club in what I thought was a unique discoball outfit.
But surprise, surprise! Across the room, there she is, decked out in the same glittering get-up. We couldn't help but laugh and hit the dance floor. And you know what? That night, dancing under those neon lights, I felt a spark I'd never felt before. And yup, I've got a photo to prove that wild coincidence!
That unforgettable evening and those crazy vibes gave birth to the track you're about to jam to. So, get ready to groove to the story of that night with my smash hit, "Disco Paradise". Let's get this party started!
**Disco Paradise**
*Intro*
C | F | Bb | G
Boogie, groove, in the neon tide
"Disco Paradise" where the queens reside
*Verse 1*
C
Flash, flash, lights so bright
F
Queens on the floor, pure dynamite
Bb
Hips sway left, then to the right
G
In the disco pulse, they ignite
*Chorus*
C
Disco Paradise, feel the heat
F
Boogie queens, move your feet
Bb
Glow, glow, to the beat
G
Disco Paradise, can't be beat
*Verse 2*
C
Glitz, glam, they're the jam
F
Groovin', movin', no need for a plan
Bb
Spin, twist, give a glam hand
G
With every beat, they expand
*Bridge*
Am
In the midst of the glow, two queens caught the eye
D
Drawn to each other, under the disco sky
Gm
Hands met, hearts tied, no need to be shy
C
They danced, romanced, love's ultimate high
*Chorus*
C
Disco Paradise, feel the heat
F
Boogie queens, move your feet
Bb
Glow, glow, to the beat
G
Disco Paradise, can't be beat
*Outro*
C
Stars fall, lights play
F
With the queens, we'll sway
Bb
Groove, move, in the fray
G
In Disco Paradise, love will stay
*End on C*
https://atomicpoet.org/media/e7201599-a110-4109-82d7-df4607b699e4/d749b926899ad302a5d2663377d7684f.jpg

2023-10-28 21:35:04

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Introducing: Oasis Workspace™️
🍃 Redefining the Way You Work 🍃
In the heart of the urban jungle emerges an office experience unlike any other. At Oasis Workspace™️, we believe in harmonizing work with nature, creating a space where ideas flourish just as vibrantly as the blossoms that surround you.
🌼 Features: 🥀
Natural Ambience: Step into a world where ceilings mirror the golden hue of dusk and floors are a tapestry of thriving flora.
Eco-Friendly Architecture: Designed with sustainability in mind, our energy-efficient spaces help reduce your carbon footprint.
Stifled Air Circulation: Inhale the aged aromas of what was once pure as collaboration becomes a distant memory.
Crumbled Ergonomics: The vestiges of our workspaces, now eroded, were once adorned with top-tier ergonomic relics, beckoning one to immerse in tasks long forgotten.
🍂 As the workspace revolution…int main() {…withers away, the…return 0;…promise of serenity dissolves. Venture into the remnants of Oasis Workspace™️, and see the end of an era. 🍂
https://atomicpoet.org/media/0f42a0aa-9708-432b-b732-636ccc222a60/c34d7f6a567204d6cedff5e0eee0d8dd.jpg

2023-10-28 21:13:39

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Dawn's light filtered in, unsettling. The room, a whirlpool of memories and faceless accusers. Mannequins everywhere, like fragments of forgotten dreams. They stared. I remembered her. Our love. Our loss.
In shadows, they jeer
Whispers of love gone past
Faceless judges loom so near
Echoes of errors that last
Head throbbing, the room tilted. Reality blurred. I saw her face in their facelessness. A scent, maybe hers, lingered, intensifying my nausea.
Between dawn and dusk
In a dance of despair
Love's twisted games
Echo in cold, still air
Anger welled. The mannequins' silent jeers became unbearable. I struck. Again and again. Plastic and rage met. One by one, they crumbled.
Silence followed. The past shattered, but its weight remained.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/66fef731-2ee8-4ed0-8a7d-fd271473ad5c/618beac2a41bb_E4SrVJ9__700.jpg

2023-10-28 09:20:44

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Oh noes! The room feltz all wrongz. I wokez up, my fur all stiffz and not right. Dis wasn’t the warm sunbeam spot I rememberz. Trying to understandz, I paw-scratched a sign real quick-like: “I’M DEAD.”
But them hoomans, being all hooman-y and not-understanding-like, just didn’t getz it.
“Lookz at dat artsy kitteh,” one said.
“Purrhaps it’s art?” another one mused.
I wanted to yowlz and screamz, “CAN HAZ ATTENTION PLZ?” But… no soundz came out.
With each day, my panic growz. I tried to meow loudly, hoping someone, anyone would understandz. The room started to feel chillz, shadowz moving all weird-like, and there were these soft growlz – like when the food bowl is empty.
Then camez the night when a bunch of young hoomans thought it’d be funzies to play ‘Who Can Haz Braveries with the Kitteh’. One brave hooman decided to stay with me. When door goes “click”, things changedz real quick!
“Hehe, iz just fun cat-play, right?” the hooman giggled nervously. But den — a ghostly brush against his leggie and a loud, echoing purr filled the spacez.
By the timez morning sunbeams appeared, his friends found the door all scratchz up. When they peeked inside, no hooman — only my sign, now frantically scratched: “I TOLD YOU I’M DEAD.”
From that day, no hooman dared to step paw inside. The sign was like a big red “DO NOT WANT” label. In the shadowz, I waitedz, whiskers twitching, waiting for the next silly hooman to ignorez my very clear meowsage.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/d8ba3785-85df-4b21-9d05-36d33f9c0c15/Screenshot%202023-10-28%20at%2000-10-13%200408d38c36088a12c635101d5910959a32cbe2f4-434x640.webp%20%28WEBP%20Image%201920%20%C3%97%202831%20pixels%29%20%E2%80%94%20Scaled%20%2837%25%29.png

2023-10-28 08:37:53

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I’m already freezing my ass off here in Canada. It’s 8C at the moment, and it’s only October. I know it can be colder. But you know what? It can be warmer too.
I’ve always daydreamed about ditching these ice-covered streets for a sandy beach on some sun-kissed Caribbean island. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be in the Caribbean. Any old warm island where my bones aren’t aching from the cold would do. I want to swap snow boots for flip-flops, be surrounded by palm trees, and enjoy the simple pleasures of ocean breezes and those golden sunsets.
You’ve seen those Instagram girls, right? Swinging with their perfectly sunlit hair, flaunting their “living-the-dream” life? No, I don’t want to be them, but damn, it’d be nice to be sipping on a pina colada, soaking up the sun, and letting the sound of the waves drown out the noise of my chattering teeth.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/205d03fe-2442-459d-9c04-65e60887e2a4/37b254ed40bf589f1ef03aff9a0df4c9.jpg

2023-10-28 08:26:58

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You won’t believe it, but I remember stuff from way back when I was in diapers. Like, I legit had this toddler crush on a girl named Valli. At that age, I thought we’d end up together. That’s wild, right? We were both in the same pre-school. And then we entered kindergarten together, just doing kid stuff and having fun.
Fast forward to when we were 13. Valli straight-up tells me she has a crush on me. But did I make a move? Nah. Too much of a coward, I guess. We just kind of moved along with our lives.
We stayed friends until about 20, and I won’t lie, there was this part of me that always thought maybe we’d end up together. But then she tells me about her new boyfriend. Dude’s super into weather or something weird like that – and I don’t know, the way she talked about him, I felt they were in it for the long haul.
At that moment, I realized some things just aren’t meant to happen. So much for those toddler dreams, huh?
https://atomicpoet.org/media/9f93e37e-157b-4ccb-9cac-7aec845e8f37/c228e914735500e86ad67ae7a5d22cf5.jpg

2023-10-28 08:12:02

Isn’t it strange how our young minds twist reality? Many of us, especially as children, think of bears as these endearing, huggable creatures, right out of a bedtime story. But the reality is jarringly different. I discovered this stark truth as a child.
We were out exploring the woods, my siblings and I. But as we ventured deeper, a strange silence came over us. The sounds of our laughter faded when we saw it — a colossal bear, deep in slumber. Its sheer size was breathtaking, every inhalation and exhalation resonating with the might of the wild.
The world around us paused. My heart raced, its frantic beats deafening. My siblings stood rooted, eyes wide with fear. All our innocent tales of friendly, honey-loving bears vanished. Here was nature, unfiltered and raw.
I remember clutching my older sister’s hand, feeling it tremble in mine. The realization hit us hard: we were intruding. With whispered promises to tread lightly, we slowly backed away, not daring to break the silence.
That day, with my siblings by my side, I saw the wild for what it truly was: beautiful, powerful, and deserving of deep respect.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/49246021-909e-48e2-95c6-bcc0b1a05974/5cd45079e866c970bb8b591879e2359d.jpg

2023-10-27 19:17:03

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How many of us are Ariel, pining to return to the sea, knowing it will kill us because we can no longer breathe under water?
https://atomicpoet.org/media/30c4d8d0-a797-4300-9a02-1b3d4db85b7c/2b878fe9007079bd5d70e3a454b91360.jpg

2023-10-27 19:09:32

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In a dim-lit town, one cold, silent night Sat an oversized Lego man, bathed in pale light His yellow head gleaming, under the street’s glow Wondering where in this world he’d ever go
Pushed in a cart, left all alone No bricks or blocks, no place to call home The shops stood quiet, the streets so bare Yet hope shone bright in his plastic stare
The world around him, so vast and grand Was hard to grasp with his stubby hand Yet with every turn, every roll of the wheel He felt emotions, so raw and real
And as the moon rose high in the sky Lego man let out a hopeful sigh For in this world of brick and stone He knew he’d never be truly alone
https://atomicpoet.org/media/5521dce2-9d4a-498c-a105-b339485e47b1/Eq2jZiX.jpg

2023-10-27 18:59:28

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The sudden glare of sunlight was a cruel ambush. As the bus moved, every beam felt like a searing brand, igniting a panic that clashed with a more primal urge: the overwhelming thirst for blood. My hand, raised in a futile attempt to shield myself, glowed eerily, an unmistakable sign of my true nature, and a stark reminder of the peril daylight posed.
Outside, the city pulsed with life. The hum of conversations, the tantalizing scent of humans, the seductive rhythm of heartbeats—it was a symphony of temptation. Yet, the same world that promised to satiate my thirst also brandished the unrelenting sun.
Caught in this torturous tug-of-war between hunger and survival, each moment became a razor’s edge decision. With the relentless sun overhead and the promise of sustenance all around, the balance teetered dangerously. Would the pull of hunger lead to my undoing, or could I find refuge before the sun claimed its victory?
https://atomicpoet.org/media/bc3b5489-604f-4630-8eb9-fcc0cbb0a3ae/d274387ec1e1cc40df8014ce4a498f02.jpg

2023-10-27 18:45:26

VOICEOVER: “In a world where chaos rules and streets are ruled by thugs…”
[A quick montage shows scenes of a gritty, lawless city: Graffiti-covered walls, burning trash cans, shady characters making deals in dark alleyways.]
VOICEOVER: “One unlikely hero emerges to reclaim the streets!”
[Cut to the image of the chicken standing confidently on the skateboard, its eyes piercing, filled with determination.]
VOICEOVER: “Meet… Chicken on a Skateboard!”
[The chicken zips down streets, dodging obstacles, cars, and surprised pedestrians.]
VOICEOVER: “She’s not your ordinary bird. She’s got speed, she’s got moves, and she’s got a score to settle!”
[Cut to scenes of gang members laughing, one of them holds a golden egg.]
GANG MEMBER: “Think you can stop us, little birdie?”
[The chicken, in slow motion, does a kickflip with the skateboard, knocking out two thugs in its path.]
VOICEOVER: “With gangs after her golden eggs and the city’s underworld trying to fry her, she’s rolling deep and serving justice… one push at a time.”
[A montage shows the chicken teaming up with other animals: A cat with an eyepatch, a snake wrapped around a baseball bat, and a dog wearing a leather jacket.]
VOICEOVER: “Together, they’ll form the most un-freaking-believable squad you’ve ever seen!”
[Quick cuts of intense chase scenes, skateboard stunts, explosions, and moments of camaraderie between the chicken and her crew.]
VOICEOVER: “Get ready for a roller-coaster ride of feathers, wheels, and non-stop action!”
[The title “Chicken on a Skateboard” crashes onto the screen in bold, fiery letters.]
VOICEOVER: “This summer… the streets belong to the chicken!”
[The trailer ends with the chicken skating towards the sunset, the city’s skyline in the background.]
VOICEOVER: “Chicken on a Skateboard… Coming soon. Are you ready to roll?”
[The screen fades to black, and the funky beat fades out.]
https://atomicpoet.org/media/3261286f-bf30-41d3-bf6d-6864aeed832d/6575dc9d746181ff12e5c63bd0297824.jpg

2023-10-27 07:04:11

I hate it when jazz musicians do a cover of a rock song but act like it’s beneath them. Especially when they’re like, “Hey, can you believe we’re playing this?”
Just because you have the skill to play the music doesn’t mean you understand the music. Stop making this into a circus act and treat the music seriously.

2023-10-27 00:08:45

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Goodbyes are like the horizon; they represent a boundary between what was known and what lies ahead. Just as the day makes way for the night, every hello inevitably leads to a goodbye. My fingers, splayed against the glass, seem to grasp at the fleeting moments, yearning to hold onto memories a little longer.
With every farewell, there’s a lesson learned, a story told, a bond strengthened. Yet, the weight of the unknown looms heavy. The separation, though transient, feels eternal in the grip of the moment.
I can feel the cold seeping from the window, a chilling reminder of vastness and uncertainty. As I slowly withdraw my hand, the lingering touch of the cold glass remains. Every thing is impermanent.
In the hush of the evening, as the world slowly drifts into slumber, I remember that every goodbye is not an end, but a horizon beckoning us towards a new dawn.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/f0529e3b-02de-4590-82cc-2edcf5557133/59368cfa0960725776ee344decdda74a.jpg

2023-10-27 00:00:41

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At the edge of the town, there was a swimming pool. Most knew it to be a pool, but to Jeremiah, it was a serene spot to study. He was engrossed in the history of wars, of men who fought bravely and of places far away. Jeremiah had always been the kind to lose himself in his thoughts, sometimes to his own detriment.
On this particular day, the sun was overhead, its rays shimmering off the water’s surface. To any other, the blue reflection would have been obvious. But Jeremiah saw only the pages of his book and the chance to escape into another world.
He set his wooden desk on the water, as if it were a solid ground. In his mind, he was in a quiet study room, walls lined with books, the scent of old leather and paper filling the air. The coolness under his feet felt like the marbled floor of the library he so loved. The quiet splashes were the rustling of pages.
But as he sank deeper into the pool, the weight of his clothes pulling him down, reality began to creep in. The pages of his book became wet and blurred. The silence was replaced by a muffled world, and his breaths became desperate.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/7f9fdc99-9ae6-42b2-a5c5-6ed26cc3e958/tumblr_oayo5wKSuU1qz53tfo1_1280.jpg

2023-10-26 23:48:17

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This is Mr. Bones. He was once a young man who was deeply in love. And this is his special spot, the place he intended to rendezvous with his beloved.
When Mr. Bones was a young man, when the first light of dawn would break, he and his true love had planned to set off on a journey together, to a place where their love could flourish without bounds.
Every night, the young man would light a candle and place it by the window, its soft glow serving as a beacon for his beloved. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. But for reasons unknown, she never arrived.
No one knows why his beloved never arrived. Some said she was taken by wanderlust, while others believed she might have been ensnared by another’s charm. The truth was that no one really knew.
But the young man’s misplaced hope never wavered. Every night, without fail, the candle would be lit, and he would wait. Seasons changed, years rolled by, and the world outside moved on. The house began to show signs of age, the paint peeled, and the wood creaked. Yet, inside, the vigil continued.
As the sands of time slipped away, so did the young man. What remained was a skeleton. To this day, Mr. Bones is still faithfully by the window, waiting for a love that never returned.
https://atomicpoet.org/media/4ec6f456-b405-4244-8aeb-8de3f3069826/F6uTA7CXkAEZEav.jpg