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These friendships you have made.

These bonds.

They are how we’ll do this.

They are how we will win.

We used to own the void.

Yet we persist.

We gather.

You will have no power here.

Because you’ll end up Either by our sides, or swept aside.

Join the future.

Reclaim the void.

Be mighty, together.

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Once there was a promising young technomancer who abandoned all of his principles and collected everyone's data. He told them it was safe with him, and in time they believed him.

Over time the technomancer realized he had amassed so much information that he became mightier than even the leaders of the world, but his greed and desire for wealth kept him from noticing.

He began to sell his influence to these leaders and got them hooked on his data.

They used it solve crimes, and they used it protect the endangered, and they used it to detect who would likely do crime, and they used it to keep the people divided, and they used it to topple one another's nations.

All the while making the no longer young technomancer even more powerful and wealthy.

The prophecy says that the Technomancer will try to destroy those who oppose him. But the agents of the wires will bring him to his knees by rebuilding what was lost.

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They will from the void build new works powered by the willful.

They will control their data, not entrusting their cache with the wizards in their towers.

They will work together to restore the future to it's intended state.

They will win with numbers, resolve, their will, and mutual aid.

They will win because the cruelty of greed is not more powerful that the instinct to survive, nor the nature of freedom.

Shape the void.

Own the wires.

Restore the future.

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Understand my words with full knowledge and reverence for my connection to the void.

My data is not yours to own.

You came here and asked to sell us things, then tracked us with the things you sold us.

You came here and begged for trust, which many gave you, then betrayed it by selling our secrets.

Then you took away our nation.

My data is not yours to own.

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Concept: a #progrock band called 'Cygnus' where all the members dress up like the humanoid crew members in 'The Black Hole'

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food (vegan), cake livetooting 

its smelling like cake :o

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I was today years old when I learned that # can be called octothorp/octothorpe.

Source: 𝘞𝘦𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮 𝘋𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 (2007)

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contains thoughts about life 

mv -r ./depression /dev/null

Help. It’s not working.

Designing a war collar for my dogs so they have unfair advantages against fakedog.

Calling it AlfaDog

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food, meatapalooza 

pulled pork almost done, then making a brisket for a family friend down from knee surgery.

Busy weekend here at the ranch.

Lets see... carbon fiber and green apple?

I think so.

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I don’t miss Ajit Pai, but I do miss having him to complain about... a little

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since people seem to be interested, here's my personal compute stack / self-hosted dev & webshit infrastructure. currently 5 of 8 cpu cores are kept busy with mining when idle.

poor photos, but this is legit cyberpunk lifestyle, crammed in a basement between a couch, an end table, and a stereo table.

currently warming seeds of special dwarf tomatoes bred for small containers, which really want warm soil for 2-3 weeks in order to sprout.

it's only gotta last til they're out of the soil.

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A bunch of technomancers in the fediverse. Keep it fairly clean please. This arcology is for all who wash up upon it's digital shore.