stop making sense.

Hi. I'm Federico.

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María Magdalena llora después de escuchar tus temas, Con ingeniero y suenan peor que en la Macarena. Que si la herida es real? Vé, tócala y comprueba

I'm done with Tumblr.

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Algunos viernes tomé el autobús Greyhound, otros viernes tomé la ciudad de San Francisco en el Pacífico Sur en el último tramo de su viaje transcontinental. Ya no puedo decirles si Milton puso el sol o la tierra en el centro de su universo en El paraíso perdido, la pregunta central de al menos un siglo y un tema sobre el que escribí diez mil palabras ese verano, pero todavía puedo recordar la rancidez exacta de la mantequilla en el vagón restaurante de la ciudad de San Francisco, y la forma en que los vidrios polarizados del autobús Greyhound proyectaban las refinerías de petróleo alrededor del Estrecho de Carquinez en una luz grisácea y oscuramente siniestra. En resumen, mi atención estaba siempre en la periferia, en lo que podía ver, saborear y tocar, en la mantequilla y en el autobús Greyhound. Durante esos años viajaba con lo que sabía que era un pasaporte muy inestable, papeles falsificados: sabía que no era un residente legítimo en ningún mundo de ideas. Sabía que no podía pensar. Todo lo que supe entonces fue lo que no podía hacer. Todo lo que sabía entonces era lo que no era, y me tomó algunos años descubrir lo que era. Que era una escritora. Un hecho físico.

Joan Didion — Por qué escribo

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There’s this brainworm in programming language developer circles of making “kernel” languages. A “kernel” is a minimal language or environment which can implement itself. They orbit the Turing Tarpit, and have a lot of “Give me a place to stand and with a lever I will move the whole world” energy. Aspirations to better future computing grounded on simplicity aren’t uncommon.

Superficial Simplicity

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As the postal service we are always happy when the addressee gets the message

Ukraine Issued ‘Go Fuck Yourself’ Stamps. Prices Are Skyrocketing on eBay

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"Juegan sin arbitro a tirarse el frisbi, yo les pego con sevicia hasta que me separe el referee"

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Deep in the heart of a city’s immobilizing luxury trap, I daydream about freedom, because I don’t really have stability. I’m a bio-powered money pump groomed by a plutocracy that will discard me unless I win. But I won’t win. I’ll just die, and when death comes too close, fuck money. Fuck all of this. Give me one more soothing self-destruction and a disapproving witness. Give me a death in fire to attract the attention of God.

Taken from The Long Walk.

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tl;dr kids are not degenerate enough to go to Vegas.

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Opportunity kills common sense.

From "Ordinary People Do Fucked-Up Things When Fucked up Things Become Ordinary".

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The Talk

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But I also see them asking, with their eyes, “Why not me?” And here I squirm and twist. Because—because we have judged you and found you wanting. Because you do not speak with a confident cadence, because you cannot show us how to balance a binary tree on a whiteboard, because you overlabored the difference between UI and UX, because you do not light up in the way that we light up when hearing about some obscure bug, some bad button, the latest bit of outrageousness on Hacker News. Because the things you learned are already, six months later, not exactly what we need. Because the industry is still overlorded by people like me, who were lucky enough to have learned the etiquette early, to even know there was an etiquette.

Why I (Still) Love Tech

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Like most Americans with an average income and only a few yachts, I want to see this administration add over a trillion dollars to the national debt. I believe severely increased national debt will jump-start the economy and benefit me and my middle-class wallet. Recently, my sensible, made-out-of-gold car had to be jump-started while I was on a trip to my ski chalet. A simple mountain man in overalls hooked up his rusty truck to my gold car and used his hayseed ingenuity to get me moving again. I left him a $500 tip for doing so. I sure do enjoy being in the American middle class. I ate a big bowl of diamonds for breakfast this morning.

Hello, I am the mythical middle-class person who Republicans say will benefit from their new tax bill

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"Se acerca pa' no estar al alcance del tiestazo // si lo hace más lo dejo sin orejas como Tyson..."

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That’s one reason I don’t miss IT, because programmers are very unlikable people… In aviation, for example, people who greatly overestimate their level of skill are all dead.

Philip Greenspun, who you might remember from Spolsky's posts on ArsDigita.

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The worst martini I’ve ever had was in a club in New Zealand, where the barman poured juice from a bottle of olives into the vodka. That’s called a dirty martini and it is a dirty, filthy, rotten martini, and should not be drunk by anybody except condemned prisoners.

Roger Moore on how to make a proper Martini.

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Jonathan Demme’s ‘Stop Making Sense’ Is Still the Concert Film All Others Try to Be

The Talking Heads concert doc is still one of the greatest music films ever made.

Via @diegoeche.

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