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
c. 1859 • Oil on Canvas
This is a work by the French artist Octave Tassaert, who was active in the 19th century. The painting is an intensely personal and visceral exploration of masochistic ecstasy. The central figure, a woman, is depicted in a state of profound and almost painful pleasure. The expression on her face i...
Manuscript
conscienceGenre: Speculative Fiction
Exploring the Foundation of Sapience: Is Imagination the Base?
Exploring the potential role of imagination as a foundational element reveals it is not necessarily for all forms of awareness, but for the complex cognitive abilities associated with sapience.
There is a distinction between basic, reflexive responses to stimuli and the more sophisticated, learned behaviors that characterize higher intelligence and flexible interaction with the world.
By examining examples ranging from simple pain...
Exploring the potential role of imagination as a foundational element reveals it is not necessarily for all forms of awareness, but for the complex cognitive abilities associated with sapience.
There is a distinction between basic, reflexive responses to stimuli and the more sophisticated, learned behaviors that characterize higher intelligence and flexible interaction with the world.
By examining examples ranging from simple pain...
Poetry
The Redbirdby Madison Julius Cawein
From "Wild Thorn and Lily" Among the white haw-blossoms, where the creek Droned under drifts of dogwood and of haw, The redbird, like a crimson blossom blown Against the snow-white bosom of the Spring, The chaste confusion of her lawny breast, Sang on, prophetic of serener days, As confident as June's completer hours. And I stood listening like a hind, who hears A wood nymph breathing in a forest flute Among the beech-boles of myth-haunted ways: And when it ceased, the memory of the air Blew ...