DarkNightoftheSoul

joined 9 months ago
MODERATOR OF
[–] [email protected] 0 points 1 day ago

are you sure you don't mean, "would get two birds stoned at once?"

[–] [email protected] 1 points 2 days ago (2 children)

dont feel those feelings

[–] [email protected] 0 points 3 days ago

even if you were right, that would be like a murderer saying his actions were justified because all the victims are dead now. fucking what? do you think about what the words mean together in a sentence before you say them or

[–] [email protected] 4 points 3 days ago (1 children)

idf could say the sky is blue at this point and id go outside to check for myself.

[–] [email protected] 9 points 4 days ago (2 children)

your players are worried about their pcs and are emotionally attached to them. your logic is fine, this is a fucking vampire. they turn to mist at will.

[–] [email protected] 2 points 5 days ago (1 children)

this kills the duelist.

[–] [email protected] 6 points 5 days ago

the author seems to have confused "cant" with "shouldnt."

[–] [email protected] 2 points 1 week ago* (last edited 1 week ago) (1 children)

no the long and swort shord on her belt i understand, its all the longswords stabbed into the ground I dont get

edit: no, I take it back, those are two longswords on her belt, which is

[–] [email protected] 2 points 1 week ago (3 children)

why's he got so many swords?

[–] [email protected] -1 points 1 week ago* (last edited 1 week ago)

you really did just refuse to link wikipedia while citing it as your source

5
submitted 1 month ago* (last edited 1 month ago) by [email protected] to c/poetry
 

INTRODUCTION.

While jarring interests wake the world to arms,
And fright the peaceful vale with dire alarms,
While Albion bids th’ avenging thunder roll
Along her vassal deep from pole to pole;
Sick of the scene, where war with ruthless hand
Spreads desolation o’er the bleeding land;
Sick of the tumult, where the trumpet’s breath
Bids ruin smile, and drowns the groan of death;
’Tis mine, retired beneath this cavern hoar,
That stands all lonely on the sea-beat shore,
Far other themes of deep distress to sing
Than ever trembled from the vocal string;
A scene from dumb Oblivion to restore,
To Fame unknown, and new to epic lore:

Where hostile elements conflicting rise,
And lawless surges swell against the skies,
Till Hope expires, and Peril and Dismay
Wave their black ensigns on the watery way.
Immortal train! who guide the maze of song,
To whom all science, arts, and arms belong,
Who bid the trumpet of eternal Fame
Exalt the warrior’s and the poet’s name,
Or in lamenting elegies express
The varied pang of exquisite distress;
If e’er with trembling hope I fondly strayed
In life’s fair morn beneath your hallowed shade,
To hear the sweetly mournful lute complain,
And melt the heart with ecstasy of pain,
Or listen to the enchanting voice of love,
While all Elysium warbled through the grove;
Oh! by the hollow blast that moans around,
That sweeps the wild harp with a plaintive sound;
By the long surge that foams through yonder cave,
Whose vaults remurmur to the roaring wave;
With living colours give my verse to glow,
The sad memorial of a Tale of Woe!
The fate, in lively sorrow, to deplore
Of wanderers shipwrecked on a leeward shore.

Alas! neglected by the sacred Nine,
Their suppliant feels no genial ray divine
Ah! will they leave Pieria’s happy shore,
To plough the tide where wintery tempests roar?
Or shall a youth approach their hallowed fane,
Stranger to Phœbus, and the tuneful train?
Far from the Muses’ academic grove,
’Twas his the vast and trackless deep to rove;
Alternate change of climates has he known,
And felt the fierce extremes of either zone;
Where polar skies congeal th’ eternal snow,
Or equinoctial suns for ever glow,
Smote by the freezing, or the scorching blast,
‘A ship-boy on the high and giddy mast,’
From regions where Peruvian billows roar,
To the bleak coasts of savage Labrador;
From where Damascus, pride of Asian plains,
Stoops her proud neck beneath tyrannic chains,
To where the Isthmus, laved by adverse tides,
Atlantic and Pacific seas divides:
But while he measured o’er the painful race
In fortune’s wild illimitable chace,
Adversity, companion of his way,
Still o’er the victim hung with iron sway,

Bade new distresses every instant grow,
Marking each change of place with change of woe;
In regions where th’ Almighty’s chastening hand
With livid pestilence afflicts the land,
Or where pale famine blasts the hopeful year,
Parent of want and misery severe;
Or where, all-dreadful in th’ embattled line,
The hostile ships in flaming combat join,
Where the torn vessel, wind and waves assail,
Till o’er her crew distress and death prevail.—
Such joyless toils, in early youth endured,
Th’ expanding dawn of mental day obscured,
Each genial passion of the soul oppressed,
And quenched the ardour kindling in his breast:
Then censure not severe the native song,
Though jarring sounds the measured verse prolong,
Though terms uncouth offend the softer ear,
Yet truth, and human anguish deign to hear:
No laurel wreaths these lays attempt to claim,
Nor sculptur’d brass to tell the poet’s name.
And lo! the power that wakes th’ eventful song,
Hastes hither from Lethean banks along;
She sweeps the gloom, and, rushing on the sight,
Spreads o’er the kindling scene propitious light;

In her right hand an ample roll appears,
Fraught with long annals of preceding years,
With every wise and noble art of man
Since first the circling hours their course began;
Her left a silver wand on high displayed
Whose magic touch dispels oblivion’s shade:
Pensive her look; on radiant wings that glow
Like Juno’s birds, or Iris’ flaming bow,
She sails; and swifter than the course of light
Directs her rapid intellectual flight:
The fugitive ideas she restores,
And calls the wandering thought from Lethe’s shores;
To things long past a second date she gives,
And hoary Time from her fresh youth receives;
Congenial sister of immortal Fame,
She shares her power, and Memory is her name.
O first-born daughter of primeval Time!
By whom transmitted down in every clime
The deeds of ages long elapsed are known,
And blazoned glories spread from zone to zone;
Whose magic breath dispels the mental night,
And o’er th’ obscured idea pours the light;
Say, on what seas, for thou alone canst tell,
What dire mishap a fated ship befel,

Assailed by tempests, girt with hostile shores
Arise! approach! unlock thy treasured stores!
Full on my soul the dreadful scene display,
And give its latent horrors to the day.

 
 

Robert Miles discusses recent developments in AI Safety

 

Across the dunes, in the waning light,
The rising moon pours her amber rays,
Through the slumbrous air of the dim, brown night
The pungent smell of the seaweed strays—
From vast and trackless spaces
Where wind and water meet,
White flowers, that rise from the sleepless deep,
Come drifting to my feet.
They flutter the shore in a drowsy tune,
Unfurl their bloom to the lightlorn sky,
Allow a caress to the rising moon,
Then fall to slumber, and fade, and die.

White flowers, a-bloom on the vagrant deep,
Like dreams of love, rising out of sleep,
You are the songs, I dreamt but never sung,
Pale hopes my thoughts alone have known,
Vain words ne’er uttered, though on the tongue,
That winds to the sibilant seas have blown.
In you, I see the everlasting drift of years
That will endure all sorrows, smiles and tears;
For when the bell of time will ring the doom
To all the follies of the human race,
You still will rise in fugitive bloom
And garland the shores of ruined space.

1
[OC] Timber (mander.xyz)
submitted 4 months ago by [email protected] to c/poetry
 

The prompt was "Trees." If you know how to format line breaks instead of paragraph breaks, please let me know.

Timber

I have heard that wood will warm you many times,

When you chop it,

Split it,

Burn it and cook-

I find a standing dead.

It's no good taking the fallen,

The wet gets in so quick around here.

Leave those for the beetles.

Abraham Lincoln said

If he had six hours to fell a tree,

He would spend four

Sharpening his axe.

My father once asked me

"Why not use a chainsaw?"

I could let another man

fuck my wife.

Sweat slick and

Sore muscles

Never felt so good.

Life shorn of its artifice.

0
[OC] Pro-Choice (mander.xyz)
submitted 4 months ago* (last edited 4 months ago) by [email protected] to c/poetry
 

I wrote a comment recently in response to a senator describing himself as "pro-choice" in defense of his refusing to repeal child marriage statutes. I recognized a poetic rhythm and have adapted it to hopefully fit as a submission here.

Pro-Choice

Yeah, he's pro choice-

Pro choice like a gunman asking, "which kneecap?"

Pro choice like a lioness stalking a herd of gazelle.

Pro choice like a homeless man can choose a bridge.

Pro choice like deciding between financial and medical ruin.

Pro choice like a rapist asking, "ass or cunt?"

Pro choice like choosing which bill to put off this month.

Pro choice like a backalley crackhead choosing another hit.

Pro choice like forcing a mother to choose between an impossible baby and an illegal abortion.

Yeah. He's pro choice.

 

Maybe gravity is no more fundamental than the force of a stretched elastic band. Maybe gravity is just an entropic byproduct—an emergent effect of the universe’s tendency to disorder.

11
submitted 7 months ago* (last edited 7 months ago) by [email protected] to c/[email protected]
 

In trying to figure out the answer to my homework problem, I came across this volume, which I thought the community might find interesting and/or helpful.

 

Abstract:

Researchers have developed artificially intelligent (AI) and expert systems (ES) to assist in the formulation, solution and interpretation of generic mathematical programs (MP). In addition, researchers also have built domain-specific systems either modeled around a mathematical program or which include a mathematical program module. In these systems, the specificity of the domain allows researchers to extend the interpretation or formulation beyond that available from the generic set of assumptions about mathematical programming. Further, researchers have begun to investigate the use of mathematical program formulations of expert systems. The purpose of their research has been to, e.g., understand the complexity of the expert systems and also to examine the feasibility of mathematical programming as an alternative solution methodology for those expert systems. This paper surveys and extends some of that literature that integrates AIlES and MP, and elicits some of the current research issues of concern.

 

I've been knocking out the trig problems in this section with minimal difficulty so far, but I've run straight into a brick wall on this "Algebraic" part. I'm asked to find sin(x)=0 between [0,2π). If I graphed the unit circle this would be a trivial exercise to show sin(θ)=0 when θ=0 or π.

Where I have trouble is- I'm very explicitly being told here that the solution is ALGEBRAIC, and I'm struggling to figure out a way to rearrange sin(x)=0 to come up with the known answer. Further, unit circles are not in this chapter, they wouldn't likely ask me to exercise a skill taught in another chapter. What am I missing?

It's not just 31, either. Looking ahead at eg 37, I can easily show sin(-x) = -sin(x) on a unit circle. I could maybe fuck around with inverse trig ratios but those are in section 3- this is only section 1.

Help me out here, drop a hint, share a link: how do I solve sin(x)=0 on [0,2π), but algebraically? I suspect it's something glaringly obvious and/or very very simple I've overlooked.

 

Maybe AI systems would be safer if they avoid gaining too much control over their environment? How might that work?

 

This video discusses the second stage of the machine learning process: (2) collecting and curating training data to inform the model. There are opportunities to incorporate physics into this stage of the process, such as data augmentation to incorporate known symmetries.

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