Anonymous ID: aa64de Dec. 1, 2020, 5:06 a.m. No.11854328   🗄️.is đź”—kun

>11854282

It's biological equivalent of machine language/asm

doesn't mean it will work/not work

it's somebody's system hack

We live in a mathematical universe

All life is information processing.

Anonymous ID: aa64de Dec. 1, 2020, 5:21 a.m. No.11854417   🗄️.is đź”—kun

Shot skeet and tried to square dance at the hustings Friday day,

Then oysters, oysters at the club with "One Hoss" Shea,

Who's broken with that prairie snipe who'd tried to tag his ear -

but failed - for all her earnests from the gold fields of Ophir.

 

The brothers Parc, who know me not, might sneer, "Pearl fishers? Odd, for Witchita Deserta." But those oysters knew Cape Cod,

and One Hoss had them iced and flown: Cotuits, best of breed, cotuits joy of snob and gob, and coveted for seed.

 

Old Henry Adams mentioned them - I've got a note here somewhere,

or maybe just the piece itself. He'd honeymooned it there with "Claver" she who's long since dead. Her relict haunts us still….

"As queer as quoits" cried Longworth's wife, bitch goddess of The Hill.

 

…think not he made a pet of me that August of '18

as I was all the worse for wear - no trophy for a queen.

He'd drawn up maps to chart the war - although it made him grieve

to picture France, from where I'd come on convalescent leave.

 

…near St Michel I'd culled a herd of Huns in swart Argonne

and been shot up a bit myself. In hospital at dawn

I used somebodies swagger stick to lever out of bed

then hopped and crawled half a mile to watch birds defile the dead.

 

The dead in question was a scamp, a card sharp from Cornell-

they'd drummed him out of Lawerenceville. The rook said, "Go to hell

these eyes is mine. There's others here, why must you play the goat?"

"You go to far!" I told the rook, and shot him in the throat.