My favorite kind of web page is orange. I like orange web pages of all kinds, whether the text is orange, the background is orange, the pictures are orange, the sounds sound orange, the feelings feel orange, citrus, etc. CITRUS CITRUS CITRUS CITRUS!

So I wanna make an encyclopedia of information I'm interested in. Like peels.

Am I Human?

I'm typing this with my arms fully extended. I just corrected a mistake that I'd like to talk about. The 'a' in 'arms' was a 'w' I think, so I hit left till the little line appeared to the right of the awful 'w', then pressed backspace. Half of that last sentence was written with severely bent arms. So the 'w' disappeared and was immediately replaced by an 'a'. Actually, before the 'a' appeared, I reached one of my fingers toward the key with the capital 'A' on it and pushed downward. Down toward the center of the Earth. It was so easy, correcting my mistakes. I just did it again, to the word 'correcting'. It's only been about ten seconds, but I can't even remember the mistake I made. Also just forgot the first 'e' in 'even' and the last 'o' in 'forgot'. A slip of the finger, or a slip of the mind? Both?
Is Eliza human? Am I human? The human brain is a very complicated computer. This is pretty much common knowledge, but still astounds me even now. I made Eliza tell me to shut up and say that all my ideas were dumb. I'm sure there are people who automatically respond to things just like Eliza does. Maybe you say the exact same thing to your Dad every morning as he drives you home. As you step out of the car, you quietly murmur "bye Dad", and it doesn't really matter if you said it loud enough to be heard, cause his automatic response is "bye Willy, have a good day". Or maybe it's "great". How can I not remember? It's happened hundreds of times at least. Oh God I'm one of those people who haven't turned in Google Scholar. I better do that instead of this. But that's ok, this feels like a metaphor.
My arms are bent.

the FRend

Is this what God feels like? Does some master hand drag and drop boxes into our lives, our thoughts, and our free will? Does some ultimate series of commands govern our lives, like we're being managed or played with? Is the world anything more than just a giant, deceivingly beautiful program? This is what god feels like.

I am commander of the birds! With great and gracious patience I watch as each piece is set in place, and WOOSH! The birds come to life under my infallible orders. They are promises that cannot be broken, commands that must be followed, for, what could be done but their following? What actions can those pathetic little creatures take except the ones I tell them to make? Do they even know how to disobey? I am God now, little bird. The pig, my subject, is your enemy, a tool to fester your fervor. You will not disobey me because you love me. And you hate the pig. These feelings, combined with a healthy dose of mindless ignorance, makes you a perfect little peasant. And I am king. God loves totalitarianism.

Number 12. I have encountered a zombie. At first I was frightened. God leaps from his throne at this sudden change, but soon finds himself rising from the puddles of his own fear, and taking on this new challenge. Challenge? Nay, it is easy, as this zombie is an even better representation of my assertiveness. What better way to exercise my authority than on a dead, submissive human being? It sounds almost sick, but it's also just a computer game. NO IM GOD

THE frEND

COlgaTE

It is first suggested that two social mechanisms leading to self-awareness could be reproduced by self-talk: engaging in dialogues with ourselves, in which we talk to fictive persons, would permit an internalization of others' perspectives; and addressing comments to ourselves about ourselves, as others do toward us, would allow an acquisition of self-information. Secondly, it is proposed that self-observation(self-awareness) is possible only if there exists a distance between the individual and any potentially observable self-aspect; self-talk, because it conveys self-information under a different form (i.e., words), would create a redundancy -- and with it, a wedge -- within the self

SIX

There are six things I learned.

One: The colors. Searching images by color will help me immensely. The colors of the world are very important to me. I only want the right ones. House color, fruit color, fruit color, fruits colours, etc.

Two: "Site:". I have been dreaming of this day. The day I would learn how to search on a website without actually going to the website.No more typing in urls and waiting 5 minutes for the goddamn page to load just so  can watch a video of someone making a homemade blast furnace.

Three through six have been omitted for the purpose of
WHATEVER

POST POST POST

 “Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.”
“Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know--because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand.” 
“I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go”
“A woman should be able to kiss a man beautifully and romantically without any desire to be either his wife or his mistress.” 
“She was dazzling-- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance.”
“I shall go on shining as a brilliantly meaningless figure in a meaningless world.”
“unloved women have no biographies-- they have histories”

“There's no beauty without poignancy and there's no poignancy without the feeling that it's going, men, names, books, houses--bound for dust--mortal--”
“She was incomprehensible, for, in her, soul and spirit were one - the beauty of her body was the essence of her soul. She was that unity sought for by philosophers through many centuries. In this outdoor waiting room of winds and stars she had been sitting for a hundred years, at peace in the contemplation of herself.” 

POST JUAN

A spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of Communism.
All the Powers of old Europe have entered into a holy alliance to
exorcise this spectre: Pope and Czar, Metternich and Guizot,
French Radicals and German police-spies.

Where is the party in opposition that has not been decried as Communistic by its opponents in power? Where is the Opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of Communism, against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its reactionary adversaries?

Two things result from this fact.

I. Communism is already acknowledged by all European Powers to be itself a Power.

II. It is high time that Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Communism with a Manifesto of the party itself.

To this end, Communists of various nationalities have assembled in London, and sketched the following Manifesto, to be published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish languages.

 The history of all hitherto existing societies is the history of class struggles.

Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary re-constitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.

In the earlier epochs of history, we find almost everywhere a complicated arrangement of society into various orders, a manifold gradation of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians, knights, plebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals, guild-masters, journeymen, apprentices, serfs; in almost all of these classes, again, subordinate gradations.

The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones. Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinctive feature: it has simplified the class antagonisms. Society as a whole is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes, directly facing each other: Bourgeoisie and Proletariat