This is to help defray FTB’s legal debts from Richard Carrier’s defamation lawsuit. Details and rules are below:
Stderr
All the unbuffered error messages
This is to help defray FTB’s legal debts from Richard Carrier’s defamation lawsuit. Details and rules are below:
I grew up in New York from age zero to six, when my family moved to Baltimore. Dad left Columbia University after the student riots [chronicle] and took a position at Johns Hopkins University. I still consider myself a New Yorker when it’s convenient to be.
It’s an act of hopefulness to make art; the artist is implicitly hoping that something of their creation will survive even if it’s only in memory. When I’m feeling stressed or at loose ends, I try to create something, even if it’s just for myself. I guess it helps cement my existence, to myself.
It’s very relaxing and satisfying to sit, with some music playing in the background, and shape a piece of silver with a file. There is none of the worry associated with rapid metal removal using a grinder; you really can’t screw things up at this speed.
The Habaki, a small copper or other metal collar that goes between the tang and handle of a Japanese blade, is an essential component for managing the force of impact so that the handle does not split when it’s used.
Have you spared a thought for chain, lately?
I never noted down the date when I first lit my forge over at the school building. I think it was about 2 and a half years ago (at the tail end of 6 months of hard work setting up the rest of the shop). But the time has come to move the forge. Which means moving the propane.
In my recent posting on Cyberpunk, Commentariat(tm) Agent LykeX decided to call my bluff [stderr] regarding the question of gamifying hacking/cyberwar in a semi-realistic manner. So, in order to better explain the topic, I have arranged for the federal government to horribly face-plant its entire security strategy by suffering a devastating transitive trust attack. Seriously, the timing is remarkable.
The sky above the port was the color of a television, tuned to a dead channel.
I called dad while I was driving home; it’s good to check up and make sure everyone’s doing OK. At my age, one cannot take one’s parents’ presence for granted, anymore. I wanted to gloat a little bit about the amazing way that science has come through for us, in spite of the bureaucratic roadblocks thrown in its path – the Covid-19 is toast, like a certain other malignant pathogen I won’t name – it’s now just a matter of time and not stumbling as we approach the finish-line.