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@Dr.Franklin
there is only one universe
Prove it
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@Dr.Franklin
--> @oromagi
estimations are not fact representations
so you are saying that this is only an estimate and not necessarily true?
” To conclude, the very precise measurements of what makes life compatible and what makes the universe exists is remarkably close,precise and consistent. Is this really a coincidence? No, there is no fundamental way to explain this, except that a supernatural being fine-tuned the universe.”
You are now calling this an estimation?
how do you think the universe came to be?
Insufficient data I’d like to observe the formation of 3 or 4 universes before drawing any conclusions.
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@Dr.Franklin
Another example of puddle thinking. If the visible universe were likened to all the Earths oceans than it the explored portion of that ocean would amount to less than a single teardrop. Scientists estimate that the visible universe represents perhaps 4% of the physical universe. Dr.Franklin is in effect a paramecium in a teardrop claiming the teardrop was made for him and denying the existence of great white sharks because he’s never seen one in his teardrop
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+1 and well said. Yes, Dr.Franklin does read just like crossed when he retransmits the mythologies found on CMI just as crossed does. lots of “perfectly tuned”s
media bias/fact check rates CMI as an unreliable source of information: “Overall, we rate Creation Ministries International a quackery level pseudoscience website for promotion of unproven myths that are opposed to modern science.”
of course, we debaters have little grounds to criticize a statement of faith posted in the religion forum but I think it is reasonable to expect reliable, fact-based citations whatever the forum
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From Live365=>
As you can see, there is really no clear answer as to what it will cost to start your podcast. Generally speaking though, you can expect to pay $200-$500 for a good quality podcast. On the extreme ends, you can start a decent podcast for around $100 and for the best of the best, most professional podcast possible, you can expect to dish out around $5,000.
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I can’t really evaluate without the details but I’m not sure how any administration can credibly restrain a public reply to a public comment.
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@Vader
All we need is a better theme song
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@Vader
I tried to find a pic of Marco Diaz w/ enough pixels for DART but gave up after multiple failures
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Instead of ill feelings of anger and shame,
put SupaDudz in the hall of fame.
Instead of accusing and grousing and flame,
put SupaDudz in the hall of fame.
Instead of troll drooling and boozing insane,
put SupaDudz in the hall of fame.
Instead of complaining 'bout raining and pain,
put SupaDudz in the hall of fame.
Instead of a panic of manics deranged,
put SupaDudz in the hall of fame.
Instead of the drama of lawyers engaged,
put supadudz in the hall of fame.
su-pa-pa dudz papa su-pa-pa-dudz
su-pa-pa dudz papa su-pa-pa-dudz
su-pa-pa dudz papa su-pa-pa-dudz
su-pa-pa dudz papa sup-pa-pa-dudz
etc.
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yer moms @supadudz
re:punched me in the gutz
fukt car stuck in the mudz
how fukt up is totaled?
if ur ride aint drive no mo
thatz what you call totaled.
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Toxic, as charged
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This is one of my favorite shows although I think it’s great premise was probably stretched over too many episodes and there are some major self-contradictions in the universe it creates. Basically, a comedy for philosophy nerds, much in the vein of “defending your life” the end of season one plot twist and the frantic reboots early are terrifically surprising and funny. Kristen Bell is the heart of the show. This is a show that might have benefited from British formatting 4or 5 seasons of 6 eps each is probably a better fit for this show
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I haven’t looked at those QFs.
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Swingy games are only fun as counterpoint: a surprising change of pace. Having to learn an entirely new game dynamic every time out is fatiguing and it doesn’t give the group time to establish regular dynamics. The way I remember it, the very traditional first games in the beginners series were often the most interesting - I was better able to discern patterns in the noise.
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Music is art but has no appearance. Debate is art but has no appearance. Clearly, the point of art is not mainly appearance.But we're talking about modern art here and modern art isn't music.
Really? Is music art? Is music modern? I think we've already ruled out the critic's era "Modern Art" which is basically Manet to Warhol. I don't get the impression that OP was excluding Impressionism as "a total scam." I got the sense he meant "Abstract Expressionism."
Everybody ought to learn history but few need become historians. Art is a primary source for history. The Caves at Lascaux are 100% art and 100% history. Art and history are seldom distinguishable. READ => Simon Schama's "Dead Certainties"They may be intwined but art (specifically modern art) is something that you visualize, not something of history. In schools, history is one subject while art is another.
That's like saying "Hey, we are studying physics here knock it off with all the mathematics." Math describes Physics, Physics is constructed of Math. Art describes History, History is constructed of Art.
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@WaterPhoenix
--> @oromagiArt's main point isn't history though, it's how it looks like. If you want to learn history become a historian. And the Mona Lisa was famous because it was one of the first portraits of someone not noble.
wrong on every point.
- Music is art but has no appearance. Debate is art but has no appearance. Clearly, the point of art is not mainly appearance.
- Everybody ought to learn history but few need become historians. Art is a primary source for history. The Caves at Lascaux are 100% art and 100% history. Art and history are seldom distinguishable. READ => Simon Schama's "Dead Certainties"
- Most art historians agree that the Mona Lisa is a portrait of the Italian noblewoman Lisa Gherardini, wife of Francesco del Giocondo. The earliest portrait of someone not noble that I can think of in the Caves at Lascaux. The painting hung in the baths at Fountainebleu for the first 300 years where it was seen by Kings of France and their guests, admired but hardly famous. In fact, da Vinci himself was not particularly famous for 350 years after his death. Napolean's admiration sparked some interest but the work was not even on the first floor of the Louvre until art critics like Pater and Gautier began publishing magazine articles about her in the mid-19th century. At the same time, Napolean's invasion of France had plundered the diaries and notebooks of da Vinci and brought them back to France, where they were slowly being translated and wondered at. Victorian England is the culture that made da Vinci famous and the Mona Lisa came along for the ride. Without all that back story, the Mona Lisa would probably be just another old portrait at the Lovre, of which there are thousands.
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(remember when I dumped this poem in a Trump debate and we had to start again? good times)
(thanks to armoredcat for asking)
The Sheep Child
Farm boys wild to couple
With anything with soft-wooded trees
With mounds of earth mounds
Of pinestraw will keep themselves off
Animals by legends of their own:
In the hay-tunnel dark
And dung of barns, they will
Say I have heard tell
That in a museum in Atlanta
Way back in a corner somewhere
There’s this thing that’s only half
Sheep like a woolly baby
Pickled in alcohol because
Those things can’t live. his eyes
Are open but you can’t stand to look
I heard from somebody who ...
But this is now almost all
Gone. The boys have taken
Their own true wives in the city,
The sheep are safe in the west hill
Pasture but we who were born there
Still are not sure. Are we,
Because we remember, remembered
In the terrible dust of museums?
Merely with his eyes, the sheep-child may
Be saying saying
I am here, in my father’s house.
I who am half of your world, came deeply
To my mother in the long grass
Of the west pasture, where she stood like moonlight
Listening for foxes. It was something like love
From another world that seized her
From behind, and she gave, not lifting her head
Out of dew, without ever looking, her best
Self to that great need. Turned loose, she dipped her face
Farther into the chill of the earth, and in a sound
Of sobbing of something stumbling
Away, began, as she must do,
To carry me. I woke, dying,
In the summer sun of the hillside, with my eyes
Far more than human. I saw for a blazing moment
The great grassy world from both sides,
Man and beast in the round of their need,
And the hill wind stirred in my wool,
My hoof and my hand clasped each other,
I ate my one meal
Of milk, and died
Staring. From dark grass I came straight
To my father’s house, whose dust
Whirls up in the halls for no reason
When no one comes piling deep in a hellish mild corner,
And, through my immortal waters,
I meet the sun’s grains eye
To eye, and they fail at my closet of glass.
Dead, I am most surely living
In the minds of farm boys: I am he who drives
Them like wolves from the hound bitch and calf
And from the chaste ewe in the wind.
They go into woods into bean fields they go
Deep into their known right hands. Dreaming of me,
They groan they wait they suffer
Themselves, they marry, they raise their kind.
-James Dickey
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@Discipulus_Didicit
Fine. but I hope you repeat your post. Draft will want to know that info.
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@Discipulus_Didicit
I was replying to you but now your post is deleted.
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Nothing like a strategy game with an outcome entirely dependent on chance. We need Ragnar in to discuss how random is mostly bullshit.
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@WaterPhoenix
I can't think of any famous art that is not more famous for its story than for its appearance. Let's take the Mona Lisa- is it really the most amazing portrait of a pale lady in a brown dress that you've ever seen or is it famous because Napoleon made a big deal of hanging it up in his bedroom then survived multiple thefts, attacks, wars, etc as the painting grew more and more famous?
Is James Joyce's Ulysses truly the most fascinating work of English literature ever written or is it famous because it exploded the Western 20th Century's perception of pornography?
Is Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" famous because it is such an amazing tribute to Caroline Kennedy or because Red Sox fans have been singing it at every game since 1997?
Few things are famous for merit or beauty- most things are famous for the story that comes with them.
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modern art would be something that you would think you could recreate.
I would think I could recreate a buttermilk biscuit. Is a buttermilk biscuit therefore art?
Also I know about the Girl with the Red Balloon and I think that is the dumbest thing ever.
hmm. And dumb aint art? Is art only smart?
They even created fake tags associated like "beauty comes from destruction" or something ridiculous like that.
What is fake about "beauty comes from destruction?" W. B. Yeats wrote about the 'terrible beauty" born from the bloody suppression and mass execution of Irish Rebels in the midst of WW1. Was that a ridiculous "fake tag"? Why?
Easter, 1916
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our wingèd horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse—
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Is Yeats art? I think so.
Is Yeats modern? I think so.
Banksy made a million dollars but he also added an Easter Egg that gave his patron money back two-fold. Scam implies that buyer got less than true value. How does doubling the value support the claim of "scam"?
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@WaterPhoenix
Money magazine estimates the $1.4 million dollar value doubled at the moment of destruction Let's see a 2 year old pull that off.
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@WaterPhoenix
No- and Banksy said that he practiced it a few times and it always shredded complete. SNAFU
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Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis
arboribusque comae;
mutat terra vices et decrescentia ripas
flumina praetereunt;
Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet
ducere nuda choros.
Inmortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum
quae rapit hora diem.
Frigora mitescunt zephyris, ver proterit aestas
interitura, simul
pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox
bruma recurrit iners.
Damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae;
nos ubi decidimus,
quo pius Aeneas, quo Tullus dives et Ancus,
pulvis et umbra sumus.
Quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae
tempora di superi?
Cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis, amico
quae dederis animo.
Cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos
fecerit arbitria,
non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te
restituet pietas;
Infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum
liberat Hippolytum,
nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro
vincula Pirithoo.
arboribusque comae;
mutat terra vices et decrescentia ripas
flumina praetereunt;
Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet
ducere nuda choros.
Inmortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum
quae rapit hora diem.
Frigora mitescunt zephyris, ver proterit aestas
interitura, simul
pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox
bruma recurrit iners.
Damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae;
nos ubi decidimus,
quo pius Aeneas, quo Tullus dives et Ancus,
pulvis et umbra sumus.
Quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae
tempora di superi?
Cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis, amico
quae dederis animo.
Cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos
fecerit arbitria,
non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te
restituet pietas;
Infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum
liberat Hippolytum,
nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro
vincula Pirithoo.
Book IV, Oda vii
-Horace
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SUNDAY MORNING
I
Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound,
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.
II
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measures destined for her soul.
III
Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.
IV
She says, “I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?”
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven’s hill, that has endured
As April’s green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow’s wings.
V
She says, “But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss.”
Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams
And our desires. Although she strews the leaves
Of sure obliteration on our paths,
The path sick sorrow took, the many paths
Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love
Whispered a little out of tenderness,
She makes the willow shiver in the sun
For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze
Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.
She causes boys to pile new plums and pears
On disregarded plate. The maidens taste
And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.
VI
Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set the pear upon those river-banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
VII
Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feet shall manifest.
VIII
She hears, upon that water without sound,
A voice that cries, “The tomb in Palestine
Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.”
We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
-Wallace Stevens
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Here is probably the most famous act of "modern art" from last year. Since the original painting was made in 2006 and the shredder frame was created at least a few years ago, it can be fairly said that this work took 13 years to make. Since the power of the art relies on Banksy's fame and anonymity and reputation for surprise and ability to sell works for millions of dollars your claim that any two year old could replicate this work is entirely refuted.
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@DynamicSquid
I could literally recreate every single picture in milliseconds. I don't care about the fake "emotion" they put into it, or the amount of "skill" it takes to splash paint like a 2 year old.Real art takes skill, and possibly weeks of painting.Change my mind.
I get the impression that Abstract Expressionism is the sum of Modern Art for you, when in fact that was about 70 years ago now.
I will happily defend Abstract Expressionism as art, performance art as art, street art, pop art, cooking, fashion, graffiti, rap but I get the strong impression you have not even thought about how Modern Art is defined or ought to be defined. What are you talking about when you say "modern art"?
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@drafterman
Basically, if RB blocks BP, it's autolose for town, if RB doesn't block BP it's autowin for town.
yep
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@drafterman
You are a mafia 2x Role blocker. Any town member you role block will have one of their actions randomly blocked for the night. Their other two night actions will still work as normal. Townies will not be informed that their action was blocked unless it is a cop or dreamer action that was affected. your fellow mafia members are [player 4], [player 5], [player 6] [player 7], and [player 8]. You win with the illuminati.
We will only have two actions tonight which should be VIG and Bulletproof. They have a chance of killing one of us tonight but then they are out of RBs .
They can't lynch without us and we can't lynch without them, so NP3 the survivor VIGS but gets killed without BP- mafia wins
IF we both survive than we can lynch DP3 and VIG NP3 for the win. We are entirely dependent on the random RB.
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@drafterman
let's not overlap kills- whenever the DP ends, I shoot Supa.
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the current VC proves definitively that drafter and Oro are the town team
Vote Count
Virtuoso (2/3) - drafter, oro
Drafterman (3/3) - supa, virtuoso, pie
The reason drafter is not dead is because no town are on the vote. Supa Virt and Pie are proved scum.
unless scum will vote for scum we are at an impasse for the next 32 hours. exciting.
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@drafterman
My understanding is that if all Town is on the same lynch, then that's a lynch without needing any additional votes:
That rule was cancelled at the top of this DP. POST #3.
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@drafterman
I am now confident you are town. I will try to doc you tonite & vig Sup. I hope you will doc me back.
I will hammer Virt once DD VC's & establishes Sup as scum.
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@drafterman
@Vader
I will hammer Virt but I want you both to tell me who you VIG'd last night
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@warren42
Post #255. I think we are all in proximate agreement
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@Lunatic
it would be a mistake to trust speed.
we seem to be assuming that he made some kind of rookie mistake by outing as vig but my read of speed is that he is much smarter and more careful than that kind of move. I strongly doubt that speed is vig but that does not inform the question of scum.
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@Lunatic
@Barney
good point. speed promised to vig rag tonite- lunching the target would wreck the test
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@Lunatic
what's the rationale? I think I may have a blind spot when it comes to Ragnar...
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so basically, everybody is here and everybody is lurking like scum. how helpful
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@Greyparrot
Let's try it again. Gosh, Greyparrot has hardly participated at all.
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@Lunatic
that's twice in this game i namecheck someone and they magically appear.
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