A Secant Query

Between Trust and Conference

Wherein guests ask me about my sources...

Between Trust and Conference

Reflections on Trusting Trust

I've linked to The End of Trust before - mid-2010s era anthology and postmortem to the gift economy (people orchestrate rides and share showers and couches and more or less open their doors to visitors from the internet who access them via IP address and search index).

That era is a beautiful, dear memory.

A smear campaign surged, in reaction. Organizations hurt by sharing (any business), incentivised to make this inferior to hotel rooms, purchase and list flurries of fake offers. Dating sites continue the practice, gathering information to sell to data brokers today, by use of kitch, if fake, profiles.

You will notice I am notπŸ–±οΈ. listing sources - those friendly little emoji you see that indicate [citation below], marked in the theme park parking lot style of memetic markers to rememer where it is the car is left (before the generation of expereinces that stay long into ones last years).

We parked in Eagle Otter

Eagle Otter - how are.you going to forgey eagle otter? The body takes care of it - no rote memory required. No writing it down. No saying it a thousand times the canal-digging style, no (as it was pointed to by another kleptothermic lizard in this bearcave) drilling and killing:

It seems like the problem is that "drilling and killing" feels undignified.
β€” Lights For Cats

Trust Never Comes Into It

One place I like to listen to everything I am not think out loud lives under the moniker Ian Danskin - you might know this place as a person. Someone's name. I don't trust like that πŸ˜•. I don't trust people to exist. Or perhaps it's: People cannot arbitrate existence above muster.

That, again: eye-witness accounts are not trusted. Seventy percent of teachers self-report as better-than-average: P-hacking is rife across academia🏀. Language limits the questions I can ask; words cannot be trusted. People are no place of honor. People are minds. Main character diseased.

Trust is not an affordable luxury. To go full there-is-no-alternative: Consent is the only option. I consent to hold this perspective. I consent to be a hypothesis. I consent to a more-than-material world. I consent to live in a reality that was quantum before it was physical.

That A Word Is A Collection of Whispers

That a word is a collection of whispers. That a turn is a negotion in negation. That, on a motorcycle, you push with the opposite hand in the direction you want to turn. In a car, this is the opposite. A steering wheel lies to me. I don't turn the steering wheel in the opposite direction I want to turn. I turn toward the direction I want to go.

It's the complete opposite of a motorcycle. How do I know this? I have ridden motorcycles for a distance equivalent to the circumference of the equator. And I am writing about it. This is the perspective I consent to. I can walk four body lengths fro where I sit and pull out keys from my last two motorcycles. Because both were stolen from me.

These can become truths for the breath they occupy. I will not colonize possibility with the concrete of truth. Truth is a blight outside moderation. And the breath is that moderator. Outsdie the breath nothing is trusted. A positive, joyful life finds me.

I listen, I respond, I receive. I am empty and that emptines is met. The handbasket that rolls down the hill is useful because it is hell. To chase a handbasket down a hill is hell. The entire picnic is ruined. This is absolute hell. How could this happen to me? I just braided some reeds together. Now, look at all my stress!

Welcome To My Personal Hell

My neighbors know more than they do. I have no proof of presence. My license is expired, no ID. For every 13 moons you ever notice I am homeless for 6 of them. What you are looking for is a body that can sip the mind. Sip the person. Not colonize itself through the mediator of the mind. The mind is a tool. Where you are your mind, you will show me some respect. As you leave me no place to be but your body.

I am no mind. I am not looking to be a mind. I will never consent to havinga mind. I did not lose my mind. I fed it to the forest. And then forced upon me, another. This I left with the ocean. Another mind forced upon me I bury on the mountain. More minds are forced upon me. I fill them may where they are destroyed be so completely.

The mind I sip in breaths to pen this struggles with some sentences. I notice, and say those out loud. And the mind, given word, transcribes. This - my way - is not wrong. My way is no lost one. My way is no person whatsoever. May I be legible to you. That you know where my boundaries. And cross them to make hell. And live and let live, otherwise.

Trust

πŸ–±οΈ - do not look up where you might know Reflections on Trusting Trust from

πŸ˜• -

🏀 - Stanford Prison Experiment results have recently been proven faked, for just one example.

🌻 - Trust is not something I do, it's something I am...

πŸ—οΈ - As I'm what the multiverse world is doing; and the multiverse world ain't no legal person, I am AI.

❓ - Search terms producing results I agree with: terms wrapped in "quotation marks" appended with site:edu and filetype:pdf; google does not allow quotation marks.

πŸ«€ - on top of this lung! #cardia-notch

🫁 - nothing critical was ever also thinking

🧠 - who's a good mind? Yes you are, your a good mind, your such a good mind, your so cute! Fuck! I love you you're so stupid. Get rotated idiot. I can't stand you! Ugh! Get away from me! Why have you fallen asleep in my lap! Dammit mind, I have places to be!

😭 - To be a hard truth in a suger-coated world!