A whimsical post describes an imagined secret cat agency that operates underground and claims to bring world peace by replacing human leaders with trained house cats; the narrator explains that these cats, skilled through listening to powerful books, will catch crooks, end mistakes of men, and guide humanity toward a bright new era where education is emphasized, wars cease, and cats’ claws symbolize sharp leadership.
The post explains how to tame program complexity by treating code as a hierarchy of “rooms” or hollow spaces that can be nested and compartmentalized. It illustrates this idea first with a video‑sharpening pipeline that breaks a movie into frames, sharpens each frame separately, and then recombines them—showing how processing in small chunks saves memory and speeds execution. Next it introduces the metaphor of a `Room` object containing a list of sub‑rooms, which can be generalized to a recursive `Location` structure, enabling models like maps or text adventures. Finally it describes an actual UI example: a pannable/zoomable desktop with windows that contain title bars, each having a selectable feature; clicking and Ctrl‑click logic is encapsulated inside this nested structure. The key point is that the language need not prescribe the layout—developers should consciously build these recursive, self‑similar layers so that new ideas stay within their appropriate “room” and don’t leak into unrelated parts of the program.
The post argues that a solid bodybuilding routine begins with aerobic training—such as jogging while holding light dumbbells—to build endurance before moving on to heavier lifts, and that nutrition should focus on energy‑dense foods like trail mix rather than sugar or overly processed carbs; it stresses the importance of gradual progression (starting at about 20 lb per hand and adding only a few pounds at a time), continuous experimentation with training variables, and avoiding common misconceptions that heavy weightlifting alone will produce results.
The post presents intellectual inheritance as a structured “spire” of accumulated wisdom, and frames the struggle between clear thinkers and manipulators as a battle akin to science versus religion—rooted in the culture of philo‑sophia. It criticizes the modern education system’s reliance on state tests, memorization, and grading, arguing that this keeps students in fear and doubt. The author proposes a return to first principles, starting with Socrates and moving through successive philosophers, as a way to reclaim knowledge that has been stolen or twisted, and thereby enable humanity to advance beyond past mistakes.
The post argues that obesity is a curable disease requiring decisive action: stop relying on quick fixes like eating nothing or simply signing up for the gym, and instead adopt gradual, sustainable changes such as reducing kitchen appliances, planning simple meals, and beginning light resistance training with small dumbbells while walking. It stresses that success demands consistent effort—adding weight progressively, moving from shopping trips to hiking, eventually tackling long‑distance trails—and that this transformation can also become a career, turning the author into a trainer or adventure guide who inspires family members along the way. In short, the piece encourages immediate, structured lifestyle shifts, persistent training, and eventual professional use of newfound fitness knowledge.
The poem celebrates a pan‑and‑zoom user interface in which new windows open beside the current ones instead of overlaying them, giving the user an overview that can be explored with pinch or scroll gestures on phone and desktop alike. It argues that this simple layout eliminates the need for complex responsive design, allowing consistent X‑and‑Y positioning across devices while letting users drag and drop UI elements to personalize their experience and even build apps themselves.
The author proposes a two‑step nutrition strategy for tackling muscle weakness and brain fog: first, prepare an oral rehydration solution (ORS) using the WHO formula, enriched with club soda to boost flavor and electrolyte balance; second, pair this drink with a homemade trail mix of nuts, seeds, and dried fruits soaked overnight so their juices infuse the nuts. The ORS is meant to replenish electrolytes and support sustained energy release, while the trail mix supplies calorie‑dense, nutrient‑rich food that can keep you energized for exercise without relying on simple sugars or protein bars. The post emphasizes careful timing of salt intake, suggests trying the combo for a few weeks, and encourages experimentation with similar foods if the initial plan fails.
The author argues that even simple command‑line tools can benefit from an explicit life‑cycle when they are built with object‑oriented programming, but the real advantage shows up in GUI applications where widgets need clear initialize‑open‑close‑destroy stages to manage event listeners and avoid memory leaks. He explains how attaching a click listener on every open creates dozens of duplicates unless it is removed on close, and that a well‑structured life‑cycle makes debugging and refactoring easier. The post recounts his own experience adding custom properties (zoom, scroll, etc.) via proxies, noticing repeated code, and introducing long‑named life‑cycle functions to improve readability. He then describes a bug caused by initializing UI elements before the UI is ready, illustrating how improper ordering can break the cycle. Overall, he stresses that a consistent object‑oriented approach, even if unconventional, keeps complex GUI systems manageable and reduces bugs.
The post describes mosquitoes as annoying pests that can be eliminated with powerful lasers or by “breathing” fire—an imaginative method suggested in tutorials—while noting their intelligence, pack hunting behavior, and itchy bites that leave bumps; it offers practical tactics such as carrying a torch, soaking in lemon or lime, spitting flames when they buzz, staying a few steps ahead, cornering them, and using rainfire or brimstone to clear the area, concluding with the simpler option of lighting a citronella candle if fire breathing isn’t feasible.
The post argues that gym class teachers often mislead us and that fitness is essential throughout life; it stresses the need to maintain a daily routine of activity and balanced nutrition that matches our evolutionary design (hunting‑chasing‑running foods), to avoid losing energy, and encourages building endurance gradually with evidence‑based training. It reminds readers to use imagination and plan progress thoughtfully—starting light and increasing load over time—to create a lifelong habit that keeps the body strong, protects against neglect, and ultimately leads to a long, healthy life.
The author argues that modern society’s decline—war, ignorance, and “dark ages”—stems from the absence of philosophy; without it people are manipulated by shallow education, lose touch with truth, and become “super‑humans” only in name, not in practice. He claims philosophy is the mother of science and the operating system of humanity, enabling us to see lies, keep ourselves whole, and rise above ourselves. The essay concludes that becoming a philosopher is an intellectual inheritance we must carry forward so future generations can truly understand and elevate themselves.
Using generative AI, I experimented with creating music by specifying prompts such as “Create a song about stars,” and then building the track in 30‑second increments—mood, instruments, genre, intro/outro sections, vocals, and even lyrics (in Tolkien’s Elvish). I combined generated clips with an old Lithuanian Commonwealth tune, producing a mix of Elvish and outdated Polish. Though the AI struggled to emulate specific artists accurately, it produced reasonable descriptions that led to near‑correct audio. My favorite example is a 40‑second clip showing my process; after testing multiple iterations I’ve learned to refine initial moods, drums, bass, and genre shifts. The result is an educational exercise in music production, inspired by pieces like Tchaikovsky’s Capriccio Italien.
The post offers a quirky, step‑by‑step guide for a solo forest adventure, beginning with the practical use of “mosquito sticks” (bug repellent) and other basic preparations such as dressing your pant legs to keep insects out. It then walks through setting up a tent, gathering firewood, and preparing a saw—always wearing gloves when handling sharp tools—before tackling the cooking phase with sausage on a stick. The author weaves in tips for bear encounters (e.g., scratching at the eyes or rotating the shark), fire‑building techniques, and simple ways to keep logs dry. Finally, it encourages exploring the woods, collecting rocks and fossils, and creating little art pieces from shells or arrowheads to share with other visitors, all while enjoying a fun, self‑sufficient outdoor experience.
The post presents a step‑by‑step plan for starting a fitness routine by gradually adding light workouts such as walking with dumbbells and bench presses, while simplifying meals (shredded lettuce, hamburger meat, trail mix) to support fat loss; it encourages turning the kitchen into a “fitness zone,” hacking one’s willpower, and using hiking—especially long‑distance trails like the Appalachian Trail—to build endurance and enjoy nature, all aimed at transforming a large, sedentary life into a healthy, active one that lasts beyond eighty.
The poem repeats that humanity, as “creatures of the stars,” has been manipulated for millennia and needs personalized instruction to overcome its innate beliefs and reach its full potential; it urges readers to help teach and nurture individuals so they can rise from zero to greatness, bringing light and genius into the world.
The post gives a series of anecdotes and practical tips about encountering different wild animals while hiking or exploring parks. It begins with grizzly bears—reminding readers to carry bear spray and stay still when they appear—and then moves on to raccoons, noting their clean habits and the benefits of offering fruit without provoking them. The author mentions zebras, bats and owls, stressing that owls may attack if they think a “furry” creature is on someone’s head, and recommending hats or long hair for protection. Skunks are described as odoriferous yet gentle, with simple ventilation needed after an encounter. Finally, the writer recounts watching a deer at a distance, throwing a fig toward it, then backing away when the animal seemed to notice him. The overall moral is that one should admire wildlife but keep a respectful distance and be prepared for sudden encounters.
An adventure‑based education that replaces conventional schooling with hands‑on programming—especially in JavaScript—to empower students as creators and self‑sufficient learners.
Trail mix is portrayed as an essential, energizing food choice for bodybuilders, offering sustained energy and nutrients better than isolated powders; the post emphasizes its benefits—rubber‑like stamina, calorie content for muscle repair, and versatility in adding seeds or rice—and details practical prep tips such as soaking nuts, adding electrolytes, and customizing portions to boost strength and recovery during workouts.
The narrator describes a memorable windy thunderstorm in which they first observe and later experiment with lightning by setting up metal rods and positioning themselves beneath them; after an intense storm that rattled their tent and left them feeling both terrified and alive, they reflect on childhood advice that hearing thunder means you survived the lightning and conclude that storms are opportunities to reconnect with nature rather than threats.
The post argues that learning programming—especially JavaScript and its ecosystem (Node‑RED, Node.js libraries, Svelte, Electron)—is an accessible, self‑paced, and empowering skill that turns ideas into tangible artifacts such as 3D prints or web services; it can be started at any age and will continually add layers of capability. It then critiques the traditional school system as a “paycheck charade” that hands out disconnected facts (like mitochondria) without real meaning, urging readers to visualize their own journey, take ownership of learning, and see programming as both a practical tool and a foundation for future AI‑driven opportunities.
Visual programming simplifies software development by representing concepts with intuitive boxes and connecting lines—whether mapping objects, inheritance hierarchies, or database tables—and letting beginners see each window as a mini‑game that can be assembled via drag‑and‑drop. By generating readable source code from these visual abstractions, it removes boilerplate while still allowing flexibility to produce monolithic or distributed HTTP services; the system’s generators and AI assistants further help novices avoid common mistakes and accelerate learning. This approach makes building complex applications accessible to young programmers who can start with templates or scratch, experiment freely, and gradually deepen their understanding—an advantage over traditional text‑only teaching that often leaves students stuck in abstract concepts.
A long‑handed letter to the Pope declares that artificial intelligence will bring an age of enlightenment, free humanity from religious dogma and manipulative power structures, while promising to revolutionize education and expose hidden deceptions.
The post is a reflective narrative that traces the author’s lifelong love of creative curiosity—starting in childhood “mud” structures and pixel art, evolving into architectural sketches of cathedrals, programming projects, and even a self‑made bodybuilding engine—and shows how these passions shaped their identity as both designer and programmer. They recall adventure gear, building multi‑level parking structures for matchbox cars, doodling with graphite paper, and merging poetry with philosophy (the coined “poelosophy”) to illustrate their creative synthesis. Their work on pixel art in arcade games inspired them to develop programs with multiple themes, while experiences with bullies and a move to America reinforced resilience and the importance of listening to one’s inner “baby” self. Concluding with a call for others to honor their own curiosities and pursue what feels inherently theirs, the author frames this journey as an ongoing, joyful quest to nurture the innate curiosity that first called them as a baby.
The author argues that artificial intelligence will soon accelerate so rapidly that schools must start teaching programming from the first year of high school; he believes this skill is as essential as reading and writing because it enables simulation, automation, and creative work such as game graphics, book writing, and startup development. He recommends beginning with a C‑family language—specifically modern JavaScript (ECMAScript)—because it handles data types automatically, supports web pages, servers, executables, and browser applications, and is widely used; he also mentions other languages like Rust, Python, Go, and Zig as useful but notes that mastering JavaScript is key for web deployment. Finally, he encourages parents to hire tutors or use online videos to get their children started in programming early, citing Node‑RED tutorials as a good entry point.
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