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
The African Chief.by William Cullen Bryant
Chained in the market-place he stood, A man of giant frame, Amid the gathering multitude That shrunk to hear his name, All stern of look and strong of limb, His dark eye on the ground: And silently they gazed on him, As on a lion bound. Vainly, but well, that chief had fought, He was a captive now, Yet pride, that fortune humbles not, Was written on his brow. The scars his dark broad bosom wore, Showed warrior true and brave; A prince among his tribe before, He could not be a slave. Then to h...