The robots are listening to me sing. Let me explain.
When i started developing these silly habits of journaling the queer games in the tarot garden (and taking pictures of the bricolage when i found it most enjoyable) there really wasn't any specific goal in my mind. I just like to play with the toys of writing, zaum, sexy imagery of men and their games and their hot bodies, and the ability to hyperlink things which amuse me here and there (musical numbers, books, websites of fascinating artists, whatever strikes my fancy.) It was just an outlet for the desire to play around. I took my little meditative games of solitaire and my thoughts which pop up occasionally when i daydream, and i just sort of ramble and joke here when i'm writing and arranging a tableau in the midst of an abstract game. There is math and jazz and fisting and entheogens and whatever happens to be beautiful or interesting to me, and i just enjoy finding the words, when i'm in the mood.
I remember an old family member who would sometimes (frequently) burst into song, just overflowing with happiness and love of life and an urge to break into music. We could have been hanging laundry on the clothesline or shucking peapods on the back porch, and she would just start humming and singing. But she was sort of like the character of Hyacinth Bucket ("Boo-kaayyy!!!") on that TV show "Keeping Up Appearances": she really wasn't a good singer. She wasn't the most horrid banshee, but she was really awful.
I can't sing. I'm really awful with music when i use my voice. I have quite flexible elocution when i'm speaking ordinarily, but i don't carry a tune well. I admit this freely. I am rather well aware of my limitations in many fields.
I don't expect nor even have any goals nor desires in terms of wanting attention. I don't crave an audience, i don't mind if nobody pays attention, i just do this for fun. I like to be outgoing and friendly, but i don't care if it's unnoticed.
The weird thing lately is how the spam-bots and the automated web-scrapers are lapping up my output so eagerly. In recent times, whenever i post some diary entry with a photograph and a joke or a poem or whatever, it takes only a day or two for the scrapers and spiders to crawl all over my fresh content. Then dozens of spamblogs and fake scamsites re-post my ridiculous diary entries and tarot garden photos, and they use some cut-and-paste with some find-and-replace software to automatically introduce small variations. Sometimes they just change the fonts and colors and a few words or punctuation marks, but often they don't change much which would be very obvious at a glance. Then a bunch of fake websites (dozens and dozens!) appear to have a bunch of blogs on them but they are all just slightly altered reproductions of my ramblings.
The robots are listening to me sing; and on most days, the robots pay more careful attention to me than humans do. That's fine, i find it amusing. Another cosmic joke. I could burst into song, terribly, and the robots would still faithfully listen and record and remember. What a hoot!
The robots are listening to me sing (channel 4, deal 2, trick L), originally uploaded by KevinHutchins314.
When i started developing these silly habits of journaling the queer games in the tarot garden (and taking pictures of the bricolage when i found it most enjoyable) there really wasn't any specific goal in my mind. I just like to play with the toys of writing, zaum, sexy imagery of men and their games and their hot bodies, and the ability to hyperlink things which amuse me here and there (musical numbers, books, websites of fascinating artists, whatever strikes my fancy.) It was just an outlet for the desire to play around. I took my little meditative games of solitaire and my thoughts which pop up occasionally when i daydream, and i just sort of ramble and joke here when i'm writing and arranging a tableau in the midst of an abstract game. There is math and jazz and fisting and entheogens and whatever happens to be beautiful or interesting to me, and i just enjoy finding the words, when i'm in the mood.
I remember an old family member who would sometimes (frequently) burst into song, just overflowing with happiness and love of life and an urge to break into music. We could have been hanging laundry on the clothesline or shucking peapods on the back porch, and she would just start humming and singing. But she was sort of like the character of Hyacinth Bucket ("Boo-kaayyy!!!") on that TV show "Keeping Up Appearances": she really wasn't a good singer. She wasn't the most horrid banshee, but she was really awful.
I can't sing. I'm really awful with music when i use my voice. I have quite flexible elocution when i'm speaking ordinarily, but i don't carry a tune well. I admit this freely. I am rather well aware of my limitations in many fields.
I don't expect nor even have any goals nor desires in terms of wanting attention. I don't crave an audience, i don't mind if nobody pays attention, i just do this for fun. I like to be outgoing and friendly, but i don't care if it's unnoticed.
The weird thing lately is how the spam-bots and the automated web-scrapers are lapping up my output so eagerly. In recent times, whenever i post some diary entry with a photograph and a joke or a poem or whatever, it takes only a day or two for the scrapers and spiders to crawl all over my fresh content. Then dozens of spamblogs and fake scamsites re-post my ridiculous diary entries and tarot garden photos, and they use some cut-and-paste with some find-and-replace software to automatically introduce small variations. Sometimes they just change the fonts and colors and a few words or punctuation marks, but often they don't change much which would be very obvious at a glance. Then a bunch of fake websites (dozens and dozens!) appear to have a bunch of blogs on them but they are all just slightly altered reproductions of my ramblings.
The robots are listening to me sing; and on most days, the robots pay more careful attention to me than humans do. That's fine, i find it amusing. Another cosmic joke. I could burst into song, terribly, and the robots would still faithfully listen and record and remember. What a hoot!
The robots are listening to me sing (channel 4, deal 2, trick L), originally uploaded by KevinHutchins314.
Strategy:
Medium = Aggression has paid well in the suit of Disks as your team has defended three of those four face cards. You might be endangering the remaining expensive Ω Archon Warlock, but there is no apparent lead which would be any better than another of these Earth dancers. You forge ahead with your Earth 6.
Dealer = Last time around had been risky so you didn't want to take a chance on anything more expensive than the Horseman of Disks. You feel quite convinced of the possibility of trump in this element, so you definitely are not going to put the Ω Archon Warlock in danger. You have what appears to be a much safer and more prudent choice: you are dragged along through the pentacles with your Earth 8.
Initiate (Contractor) = the Bitch cards had allowed you to promote your Disks so cleverly, and now you get the pay-off. Your original Ace and Ten had been joined by the 9 and 2 from the Bitch, and now you can get away with the Ten which had been preserved in such a crafty and fortuitous manner. You capture this tierce with your Earth Ten! Congratulations on a well-executed plan.
Scansion:
Medium = Earth 6.
Dealer = Earth 8.
Initiate (Contractor) = Earth Ten. Score +1 Tricky Point for the tierce, no face cards; this is added to his previous 16 for a new subtotal of 17 points at the end of this Trick L.
