I was bitten by a stray dog on the street, and in outrage I raised my hand to strike it.
"Forgive me," the dog suddenly spoke. "I am a mean dog, for I was beaten by my owner."
"Then this fist is for your owner," I relaxed. "Where is he?"
And the dog told me where to find him.
I found the owner, an old man on his deathbed. I told him what had happened, and why I was there. "I have a fist for you!" I yelled, as I raised my hand to strike him.
"Forgive me," he moaned. "I am a mean man, for I was beaten by my father."
"Then this fist is for your father," I relaxed. "Where is he?"
And the man told me where to find him.
I found this man's father's tomb. Inside, I found a cellar that led to the underworld. I descended into the flames and found this man's father's soul. I told him what had happened, and why I was there. "I have a fist for you!" I yelled, as I raised my hand to strike him.
But this man also begged for forgiveness, for the same reason as his son. So I asked who injured him, and I went to find them.
So it was that I scoured the underworld, descending back in time through thousands of generations as I raised my fist to each of them in vain. I heard countless tales of woe, of famine and exile and war, as I hunted for a single blameworthy man.
When I arrived at Adam, I told him about the dog who had bitten me, and how he at last must be to blame for my injury. I raised my fist to strike him.
"Forgive me," he said. "I am a mean man, for I was abandoned by my Father."
"Who is your father?" I spat.
"God in heaven. He is the one who created me. But I could call Him, and find time on His calendar for Him to see you."
So it was that I waited for a few months in the underworld while Adam arranged my meeting with God. When His audience was finally granted, I was transported by a flying chariot to His celestial offices. His assistant told me I had fifteen minutes. I told God what had happened, and why I was there. "I have a fist for you!" I yelled, as I raised my hand to strike Him.
"Forgive me," He said. "I am a mysterious man, for I do not know what created me. But I could explain why it was that that dog bit you." He showed me in his palm the history of the world, and it included all that is past and future. "You can see that all of history is preordained. Everything that will be is already determined by what came before it. You are here because you were determined to come, even as you were determined to be bitten, even as you were determined to be born."
"But," it suddenly occurred to me to ask, peering into history in the palm of God’s hand, "could you tell me what the future of my life will turn out to be? Will I ever fall in love? How long will I live for?"
"Now you are determined to leave." He closed his hand and pointed to the door.
I was transported back to earth, where I searched for and found the dog who had bitten me. I told him all that had happened.
"Bow wow," he said. "That is a great relief to my conscience."
I knelt and gave the dog a kiss. “You have taught me a valuable lesson, and I thank you.”
The dog’s eyes welled with tears. “You would take pity on a poor old pup like me? I say, my heart has grown three sizes, sir. I won’t bite another man again.”
I winked. “Bless your heart.”
Then I went home and beat my wife, and beat my children, and beat anyone else I could find. I have done that for years now, and will continue as long as there are people to beat and no one to stop me. At night, I sleep contented and undisturbed, safe in the knowledge that somewhere, someone else is to blame.
install now: npm i @gammieduncan/phone-ui
or check out a demo here: https://t.co/B0Bp6re2NM
full repo available on github: https://t.co/oRzhlwhfTz
cc: @rtwlz feel free to use this on your next data project
i just open-sourced phone-ui
feed it JSON, get a fully working fake phone: texts, photos, Instagram, Tinder, call + internet history, even Spotlight search across all the apps:
@udiWertheimer@SHL0MS what's funny is that's not quite how the original painting even looked, I did a digital restoration of it based on pigment degradation, here's what it used to look like: https://t.co/vEdnYhT6uJ
here's that Monet that's been going around, it's a more subtle restoration bc he used some of the most stable pigments he could fine, but the intensity of the colors still degraded:
you've never seen your favorite paintings as intended. pigments fade, varnish yellows, and restoration is risky.
so i made a website that lets you see the true colors!
here's that Monet that's been going around, it's a more subtle restoration bc he used some of the most stable pigments he could fine, but the intensity of the colors still degraded:
There really needs to be a synonym for 'autistic' that I can use in the workforce:
My boss: "Is the new guy detail oriented?"
Me: "Um... yes. Some would say... uh, very detail oriented"
One thing I've been adding in my prompts to Claude: What are you avoiding?
In life we tend to procrastinate when a task isn't legible. Models seem to wiggle around parts they don't understand or don't want to put effort into. I found it helpful to prod them to consider that they might be doing that too.
@JoyceCarolOates But books aren't Platonic objects that appear out of the ether, they come from individuals. We study the historical/cultural context of an author's time to better appreciate their work, why not study the author? We can knock at their neighbors' doors, but not theirs?
@PerellClips He literally wrote a screed against Shakespeare because he thought the Bard didn't moralize enough. Dude was heavily into social issues, which appeared all the time in his work
@JoyceCarolOates I think it's simpler than that:
>Someone else is getting a gold star.
>He can't stand to be "one-upped" by anybody.
>He wants the gold star.