Efficiency is Independence
I'm a retired architect building systems that don't need "Big Tech" permission to exist. I run a full web presence, mail stack, and security layer for a dozen users on 1GB of RAM. No Docker. No bloat. No bullshit.
The Engineering Repositories
The Artist's Gallery & Manuscripts
Painting
Untitled~2015 • Oil on Canvas
Unknown
Manuscript
aioGenre: Speculative Fiction
Scene 1: The Children's Playground (Revised - Fifth Pass) The sandbox was a chaos of fine grit and flung plastic, exactly as any proper sandbox should be.
A couple of parents sat on a nearby bench, faces tipped to the sun, occasionally glancing up from their screens.
You'd think the squealing and the bits of sand clinging to every surface would get to them, but most seemed to have developed an impressive filter.
Seven-year-old Eleanor Vance, her knees already streaked with the day's first lay...
A couple of parents sat on a nearby bench, faces tipped to the sun, occasionally glancing up from their screens.
You'd think the squealing and the bits of sand clinging to every surface would get to them, but most seemed to have developed an impressive filter.
Seven-year-old Eleanor Vance, her knees already streaked with the day's first lay...
Poetry
Dublin At Dawn.by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
In the chill grey summer dawn-light We pass through the empty streets; The rattling wheels are all silent; No friend his fellow greets. Here and there, at the corners, A man in a great-coat stands; A bayonet hangs by his side, and A rifle is in his hands. This is a conquered city; It speaks of war not peace; And that's one of the English soldiers The English call "police." You see, at the present moment That noble country of mine Is boiling with indignation At the memory of a "crime." In a pa...