Total posts: 8,696
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Can't we assume that if Warren (who has not posted once in spite of being active on site) and Cookie (who has posted once to promise he'd be more active and never returned) must be scum because if they were TOWN they would modkilled long ago?
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@ILikePie5
So RationalMadman andSImplyBeOurselves had identical ROLE and CHARACTERs?
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Showing up is 80% of life. Suddenly you're in this environment where it seems like nobody's paying attention to how often you show up but actually it ends up being one of the most important things. Its so tempting to skip classes, study periods, etc but just hitting those marks on time and out of habit makes success so much easier than catching up later.
It is easy to overjoin orunderjoin. Join one extra group right off the bat- something that definitely reflect your interests, generates new friends and associates and gives you something to talk about that isn't the same thing as everybody else is talking about. Then look for some other project to join, take your time and shop around. If you find some group that feels like home that's the thing you should be prioritizing- figure out how your academic plan, social life, career etc is reflected in that project and how your participation makes that project more the thing you want it to be. If that seems vague its because that project can be just about anything- just look for something that feels like you belong.
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While you are sitting on the edge of your seat tracking what CNN calls "the greatest health crisis America has ever faced"This little factoid comes from government census data.For every COVID-19 death recorded since January, TWENTY new babies were added to the American population.That's 2 with a zero folks.
Although we are still collecting data, even superficial fact checking shows this factoid to be exaggerated and innacurate, at least.
- For example, the US Census Bureau has not published any COVID death data.
- There were no US COVID deaths in January. The first official COVID death in the US was on Feb 28 although there are some suspected deaths going back to early February.
- By the middle of March, there were only 61 COVID deaths, so adding Jan, Feb, and Mar birth statistics to a comparison against a disease that didn't really start having an impact until Apr is falsely fluffing your stats and doubling your birth numbers.
- The CDC is pretty forthright about the fact that their COVID stats represent a significant undercount at present.
- "Percent of expected deaths is the number of deaths for all causes for this week in 2020 compared to the average number across the same week in 2017–2019. Previous analyses of 2015–2016 provisional data completeness have found that completeness is lower in the first few weeks following the date of death (<25%), and then increases over time such that data are generally at least 75% complete within 8 weeks of when the death occurred"
- That is, our death certificate data for April is probably better than 75% complete. May and June data is significantly incomplete.
- So at best, the above "factoid" compares 6 months of presumed births based on 2018 numbers vs. 1 months of nearly complete death certificates and partial data from two more months.
- Let's look at our partial April 2020 US COVID death certificates vs April 2018 birth certificates
- 55,655 (75+% complete) COVID deaths vs 299,063 (99% complete) US live births
- Let's note that the CDC is only counting COVID death codes ICD–10 code U07.1 and only a small percentage of the total 294,167 (75+%) complete were actually tested for COVID. Still, it doesn't take a genius to see a better than 60,000 deaths jump over the months before COVID (232,789 in February, for example, which is typically a deadlier month than April).
- So, we don't really have the numbers yet but a more accurate factoid is more 5 babies for every COVID death in April. May and June show significant improvement in death rates- I would estimate the past 3 month average at roughly 8 or 9 babies for every COVID death.
"the greatest health crisis America has ever faced" seems pretty debatable. Certainly the 54 million or so Native Americans who died of disease in the first few decades after Columbus represent a higher toll but when we say "America" do we mean the Americas or the USA? Certainly, the 675,000 US deaths from the 1918 swine flu pandemic represents a higher number than our present 127,000+ dead but that's comparing 2 years of deaths to 2 months of deaths so far. Total US deaths will depend heavily on what we do now but if no vaccine arrives in two years and we continue at present spread rates we'll probably overtake that 1918 number. Also, the healthcare industry in 1918 didn't have much a response for swine flu in 1918. So many people dying at home is certainly a crisis but is it a health crisis when healthcare does little to help? Reversely, the 700,000 US deaths from AIDS since 1979 represents a slow motion healthcare crisis but it took most of a decade to convince conservatives that so many dead gays, addicts, and blacks represented a crisis of any kind.
If we think about healthcare usage and availability, the average newborn spend 2 or 3 days in the hospital before going home while the average COVID patient has been hospitalized for 21 days (this number is getting much better fast) (but also, there are way, way more hospitalizations than deaths from COVID) we can see that healthcare as a resource is getting hit harder right now than at any other time in US history but modern healthcare dates back to what? 1940s?
- I'd discourage reliance on CNN as a source of evidence. MediaBias/FactCheck advises:
- "Overall, we rate CNN left biased based on editorial positions that consistently favors the left, while straight news reporting falls left-center through bias by omission. We also rate them Mixed for factual reporting due to several failed fact checks by TV hosts. However, news reporting on the website tends to be properly sourced with minimal failed fact checks"
- Nevertheless, some specific google searches fail to provide an example of some CNN anchor stating "the greatest health crisis America has ever faced"
- an actual link might offer more context
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ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re really in the total animal soup of time—
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipsis catalogue a variable measure and the vibrating plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.
II
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!
III
Carl Solomon! I’m with you in Rockland
where you’re madder than I am
I’m with you in Rockland
where you must feel very strange
I’m with you in Rockland
where you imitate the shade of my mother
I’m with you in Rockland
where you’ve murdered your twelve secretaries
I’m with you in Rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humor
I’m with you in Rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
I’m with you in Rockland
where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio
I’m with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses
I'm with you in Rockland
where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica
I’m with you in Rockland
where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx
I’m with you in Rockland
where you scream in a straightjacket that you’re losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss
I’m with you in Rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse
I’m with you in Rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void
I’m with you in Rockland
where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the fascist national Golgotha
I’m with you in Rockland
where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from the superhuman tomb
I’m with you in Rockland
where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale
I’m with you in Rockland
where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and won’t let us sleep
I’m with you in Rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we’re free
I’m with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night
- Allen GInsberg
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Howl
For Carl Solomon
I
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the FBI in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’ rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hung-over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,
Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination—
Created:
Unruly
Hushed whispers in an undisclosed room
Take it out of the girl
a child, boyish in nature their smallness magnified.
Outcasted—the soft bodied animal you are
determined unruly animalia,
what survives inflation & inertia?
The body is a set of complex feedback systems
nothing is as it appears
the coexistence of a beard & breasts
evidence of the body’s willfully defiant nature
The body’s resilience amid the promise of perish:
somehow the child survives their own hand
the day’s weary edge inverted toward grace
A child, boyish in their nature & barrel shaped
survives sedimented against the residue
of dunes, soil, leaf litter, & the bodies of a lesser
What couldn’t be excised
your boyish nature
your untamed phylum, your small heart pulsing loud
notes against the night.
-Jari Bradley
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The Virus
Dubbed undetectable, I can’t kill
The people you touch, and I can’t
Blur your view
Of the pansies you’ve planted
Outside the window, meaning
I can’t kill the pansies, but I want to.
I want them dying, and I want
To do the killing. I want you
To heed that I’m still here
Just beneath your skin and in
Each organ
The way anger dwells in a man
Who studies the history of his nation.
If I can’t leave you
Dead, I’ll have
You vexed. Look. Look
Again: show me the color
Of your flowers now.
-Jericho Brown
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@Speedrace
i know it but sometimes circumstances dictate a double hanging
VTL RationalMadman
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RELIGION POLL #1: What is the best argument for/against the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus, and why?
no first hand accounts of the phenomenon
paucity of reliable, testable accounts
the phenomenon is not repeatable in spite of billions of observations of human death
In short, lack of evidence
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@User_2006
VTL User_2006
.... and don't forget to explain why you waited so long to counterclaim
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@WaterPhoenix
Wait wait wait, RM seems sus, but I think it's far more likely that croc is scum. Pie made an extremely good point about how scum targeted me instead of croc, and croc's actions last dp were the sus'est thing ever.
Press, not Pie but yes I'm starting to buy this
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Oromagi
TOWN
Speedrace VISITOR
BearMan
LittleCookie
User_2006 Tony Padilla (CC)
AWOL
9. Warren
SCUM
UNOFFICIAL VOTE COUNT
M (5/7) - Supa, Croc, Simply, Bear, Speed
Bear (1/7) - Press
User (1/7) - RM
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Speedrace VISITOR
LittleCookie
AWOL
9. Warren
SCUM
UNOFFICIAL VOTE COUNT
M (5/7) - Supa, Croc, Simply, Bear, Speed
Bear (1/7) - Press
User (1/7) - RM
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@PressF4Respect
Bleeder is a role on Drafter's list. If Water is indeed telling the truth, he will be dead by the end of this DP.The fact that SupaDudz roleblocked RM and yet a kill still happened means that RM is confirmed to not be a killing role. He may still be scum (Watcher has been played with all alignments), but he can be confirmed to be a non-killing role. This is true unless either Water or Supa are lying.Croc claims that he healed me. This most likely means that he cannot self-heal, because if he could, he would've done so in NP1 (given the fact that he outed himself as doc). This makes Croc an obvious target for scum. The fact that scum targeted Water instead of Croc (who has claimed arguably the most important role for town) is telling. It means that Croc either is actually scum and lying about his role (more possible) or that scum was scared of a self-healing doctor. The former is more likely than the latter.
right and we have User claiming to verify Croc's move but without backing it up with a ROLE claim.
maybe its croc and user
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@Speedrace
well, but look....
The main reason to suspect RM was that Supa RB'd him and nobody died. Now we know that WP died, he's just gets an extra vote before he goes which tosses my main reason for suspicion on RM.
Further, RM claimed WATCHER and your claim of VISITOR seems to back.
User's PM seems credible, particluarly the Tony, Tony, Tony but his waiting 6 hours to CC does not seem credible. Worse, he's holding out on ROLE claim while RM gave us a good claim early.
I've gone from 2 birds in the hand to 1 in the bush
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@User_2006
User-
You cant not answer this question. If you don't give a good answer we have to lynch you instead of RM
How can it be true that you are Tony and RM claimed your character 10 hours ago but 6 hours ago you unvoted him
--> @RationalMadmanUNVOTELook, I am with you. But the rest? Not so much.
Why are you telling a guy who is claiming your character that you are with him? How am I to trust your CC now?
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@ILikePie5
--> @oromagiI am certain WP is really bleeder, he cleared me by his claim and had no reason to as scum.
thanks.
I double checked twice and still can't get my finder to show me BLEEDER but I do see that role on line #159
I retract the entire accusation with apologies to WP and Pie.
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@RationalMadman
--> @oromagiI am certain WP is really bleeder, he cleared me by his claim and had no reason to as scum.
He absolutely does have a reason- to exonerate you. We are focused on your apparently roleblocked nightkill last night. WP claiming that he was the one killed last night contradicts that narrative. A bleeder can survive if he NK'd again which is hardly plausible but then you might try claiming redirect or whatever.
In any case, we aren't working on Water's lynch. let Water's deception sink in while we work on lynching you.
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@RationalMadman
--> @oromagiIf he doesn't die at the end of this day period, we know he's fake anyway. Pie isn't going strictly by mafiascum, he told me my action didn't go through yet this is not the comment mafiascum says he should leave.
Irrelevant. Pie never claimed that he would go strictly by mafiascum, he only claimed that all roles would be based on mafiascum or Drafterman's list. WP's is neither.
Your defense of WP's obvious lie increases the the likelihood of your guilt
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@User_2006
How can it be true that you are Tony and RM claimed your character 10 hours ago but 6 hours ago you unvoted him
--> @RationalMadmanUNVOTELook, I am with you. But the rest? Not so much.
Why are you telling a guy who is claiming your character that you are with him? How am I to trust your CC now?
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@RationalMadman
@Vader
@Speedrace
RM, Speed, Supa
Please double check both of the role lists we're using for this game and confirm that BLEEDER is not an available role.
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@ILikePie5
OK, we know Pie has read and made no comment about WP's claim.
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@User_2006
User
RM has a point. RM claimed Tony at https://www.debateart.com/forum/topics/4422/post-links/182424
11 hrs ago.
You've been reading for hours, why did you wait until now to CC?
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@RationalMadman
what do you think of the fact that the role WP claimed is not in this game?
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@RationalMadman
looking for post where u claimed tony
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VTL RationalMadman
I am also down for lynching WP or Warren
Speedrace VISITOR
LittleCookie
WaterPhoenix BLEEDER (CC) WInston Williams
AWOL
9. Warren
SCUM
UNOFFICIAL VOTE COUNT
RM (5/7) - Supa, Croc, Simply, Bear, Oro
Croc (1/7) - Speed
Bear (1/7) - Press
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@User_2006
- Don't cut & paste from your PM. that is a big no-no
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@RationalMadman
If WP doesn't die at the end of this DP, you know that he's fake anyway. Why would you need to lynch? Where's your claim? Why should we trust you?
Trusting me doesn't enter into it. Pie gave us a specific list of roles that he could possibly be in the game and WP's claim is not on that list. Maybe Pie made a mistake but it is far, far more likely that WP was looking for a ROLE to disrupt town's present narrative- which is that you tried to NK and Supadrunk punked you.
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@User_2006
Alright, here is proof. I will reveal my identity in the next post, how about that? I had to full claim because at this point RM is really just making stuff up.RM is not Tony Padilla and I know it.
what do you know?
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- Croc claims to DOC Press (this makes some sense since Press was the likliest town DP1)
- User claims to verify Croc's DOC but won't confirm role
- Supa claims to RB RM
- RM claims WATCHER who was RB'd
- Speed claims VISITOR to re-inforce liklihood of WATCHER/TRACKER s in game
- Either of these dynamics might explain lack of night kill but as a slightly sus non PR, Press was NOT a likely target for scum. The odds that RM tried to perform NK and was blocked are much higher than some unknown NK on Press was DOC'd
- WaterPhoenix claims BLEEDER but this seems certainly false
- epicmafia describes the bleeder role as
- Bleeder:
- Will not instantly die if shot.
- After a day, the Bleeder will die.
- If shot while dying, nothing happens.
- HOWEVER, one of the rules of this game is:
- "Roles have been taken from Drafterman’s list and/or MafiaScum. I won’t talk about any sort of roles in the DP and I will only answer questions about your role and it’s mechanics in your PM."
- BLEEDER is not a role from Drafterman's list
- BLEEDER is not a role from Mafiascum Wiki
- Therefore either
- Pie screwed the poodle or
- WaterPhoenix failed to notice Pie's rule for this game and false claimed a role that is not a potential role for this game
- Pie must correct the error if the error was his but he has said he won't comment otherwise. No correction on this point means Water is our likliest scum candidate and is try the mama bird broken wing gambit to defuse the momentum on RM
- I am willing to VTL Water, Ratman, or Warren (for no show) right now
- Let's note that both Cookie and Warren jumped on DART during NP1 so both are confirmed lurkers
Oromagi
Speedrace VISITOR
User_2006
SimplyBeOurselves
BearMan
LittleCookie
WaterPhoenix BLEEDER (CC) WInston Williams
AWOL
9. Warren
SCUM
UNOFFICIAL VOTE COUNT
RM (4/7) - Supa, Croc, Simply, Bear
Croc (1/7) - Speed
Bear (1/7) - Press
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@TheUnderdog
I strongly disagree with the wonton destruction of any artwork, public or any private. I never would have supported the installment of neo-confederate monuments and I understand that their primary purpose was to humiliate and intimidate the underclass and exalt white dominion over those people but all art serves as a document of a time, place, and perspective. We don’t destroy the document just because the perspective has evolved. In a democracy, we are supposed to be well practiced in the tolerance of offensive even oppressive points of views. We should be able to recontextualize offensive art without destroying offensive art. I am sympathetic that some might resent the expenditure of taxpayer funds on offensive art but I would advocate tolerance and if tolerance can be summoned then defunding or removal from public contexts might be considered. Destruction by mob and vandal is immoral and anti-democratic and violence in any context. Abraham Lincoln should be memorialized as a great American. I’d oppose spending tax money on any religious statuary but would likewise oppose the destruction of any religions sacred symbols or art in any public context
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Well, micro-evolutions is a relative notion that keeps us from having to explain many recent adaptations like blue eyes or high altitude tolerance or malaria resistance or smaller craniums. I don’t buy the idea that humans control our environment at least not until we can tame a hurricane or reverse global warming I assume humans will transit space and colonize other planets in the next few thousand years or else fail as a species but space and exoplanets are incredibly challenging environment that make Antarctica and the Marianas trench look like Edens. Right now our skeletons barely tolerate weightlessness and gamma ray radiation kills us in horrifyingly low doses but we will certainly adapt to those challenges or perish
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Battle-Hymn of the Republic
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps.
His Day is marching on.
I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.”
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat:
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
-Julia Ward Howe
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@BearMan
well its not croc asserting paradox, it's Greek philosophy by way of Standford.
Standford says
, "The puzzle can be expressed as an argument most simply using modusponens:
- 1 grain of wheat does not make a heap.
- If 1 grain doesn’t make a heap, then 2 grainsdon’t.
- If 2 grains don’t make a heap, then 3 grainsdon’t.
- …
- If 999,999 grains don’t make a heap, then 1 million grainsdon’t.
Therefore,
- 1 million grains don’t make a heap.
The argument is a paradox because apparently impeccable reasoning fromapparently impeccable premises yields a falsehood.
I don't buy "falsehood"
We use deliberately use vagueness in our language to indicate non-specificity. Applying specificity to a non-specificity necessarily breaks at some point but that doesn't make the vague term false.
When we say 'a few' we mean 'more than two but an unspecified normal, readily countable amount'
I had a few drinks. We dated a few years back.
3 drinks are a few
5 drinks are a few
7 is pushing it
10 drinks, "dude!"
Now some Greek philosophers who have definitely had more than a few drinks say well if 4 drinks are a few and 3 drinks are a few than it should follow that two drinks is also a few and we're liars if its not. But no, we definitely indicated more than two but we kept it vague because of uncertainty or obfuscation or some other reason. Likewise the Greeks want to say if 5 can be a few and 6 can be a few than seven drinks should also be a few and we are liars if say otherwise but no, too many to be few is highly circumstantial and we indicated that we weren't being specific so no falsehood is proved.
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@Crocodile
The problem is all in the vagueness of the descriptor.
A heap is a collection of things into a single mass creating some elevation. A heap of grain stops being a heap when no grain has any elevation.
Theseus' ship stopped being the entire, original ship when the first plank was replaced. People assumed it was still Theseus entire, original ship because the new information was seldom conveyed but that lack of information did not change the nature or definition of the ship which was a partially restored ship. When every plank was replaced it became a fully restored ship.
A heap is not an object. It is an abstract descriptor for the way a group of objects are arranged. Likewise, a line is not an object. No object stopped being an object after the arrangement changed.
Theseus' ship is not an object. It is an abstract descriptor for the ship's history of ownership. After Theseus stopped owning the ship, the descriptor was no longer true but people used it a shorthand label for the history and significance of the ship. No object stopped being an object after any plank was replaced. The old plank was still a plank. The old ship was still a ship.
What's paradoxical about any of this?
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@3RU7AL
These should be unranked (from ELO).
agreed. ELO should reflect debating skill, however much we might value other skill sets.
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@Barney
Also, mods have at their discretion a "degree of difficulty modifier" that allows mods to add +1, +2, or +3 points to the ELO win/loss results. DoD mods are awarded for experienced players vs. noobs, truism debates, etc to reward bold or brave moves and dis-incentivize easy wins
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@Barney
convincing argument should be >50% of vote
4 pts on 7 pt scale,
you can divide these points between debaters 4-0, 1-3, 2-2
It doesn't make sense that you can win every argument and still lose debates
spelling and grammar should replaced with clarity
clarity of reasoning, thesis, purpose
1 pt on a 7pt scale
sources should be replaced with "strength of evidence"
some arguments don't require sourcing
strength of evidence is how well you supported your argument with facts
2 pts on a 7 pt scale
you can split these point or award all
all pts must be awarded
no ties, ever. Matches end after 5 votes are cast.
conduct should be removed from regular voting since good conduct is always required
however, a finding of bad conduct by a VOTER against one debater that is not reciprocated by the other debater can forfeit the debate. Bad conduct includes to excessive concessions, excessive ad hom, excessive bigotry or prejudicial arguments against classes of people, etc and must be consistent with DART CoC
I have said before that I think any forfeit should automatically end the debate with a loss. This would concentrate VOTER attention on well engaged debates and seems very fair to me. In any school or pro debate, a no-show would result in auto loss.
I understand this is an unpopular notion but I strongly advocate this position and think it would rapidly improve the quality of debates.
Lastly, all creative debates, rap debates, non-debate debates, etc should have a "dogfight" category which would replace winner selection. These debates only come in odd numbers 1,3,5 rounds and voters pick winners by rounds with very short (less than 100 character)explanations.
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700+ posts is substantially improved activity over recent games.
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@PressF4Respect
What about him asking User and RM to claim?
noise
What about giving a justification that makes no sense whatsoever? Aren't those scumtells?
Maybe. If I was playing scum I would type out my justification for my scum buddies first and say, "what do you think?" and no way would Croc's justification pass muster. Speed thinks there's a lot less collaboration in the mafia chat than I think so ....maybe he is scum and his partner's are just going, "dude"
I just think the odds are against him being scum. Who knows, maybe he wants to be lynched to activate some PR.
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@WaterPhoenix
Doctors can protect themselves right?
roles in this game are based on drafterman's list which does not specify....
Mafiawiki advises
Doctors are usually not allowed to self-target.
but I've twice played docs that could so....
maybe?
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also, let's note that DOCTOR is a likely role in a game with a COP and a game with a MILLER likely has a cop.....I am not going to be surprised if croc flips doc
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