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
To Laura In Death. Sonnet LXXIII.by Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)
Fu forse un tempo dolce cosa amore. HE COMPLAINS OF HIS SUFFERINGS, WHICH ADMIT OF NO RELIEF. Love, haply, was erewhile a sweet relief; I scarce know when; but now it bitter grows Beyond all else. Who learns from life well knows, As I have learnt to know from heavy grief; She, of our age, who was its honour chief, Who now in heaven with brighter lustre glows, Has robb'd my being of the sole repose It knew in life, though that was rare and brief. Pitiless Death my every good has ta'en! Not the...