Braunschweig, most often associated with Barbarossa, is among the great losses of architectural heritage in Europe. The city featured a unique collection of countless gothic timber frame houses of exceptional quality and style.
Let’s get this straight, America: Russians are NOT evil. They never have been evil. Throughout history, they’ve been plagued by disloyal leaders who disregarded the Russian people. Invaders made Russian history a bloody affair. Some of the worst historical figures people associate with Russia weren’t even Russian! Stalin wasn’t Russian. His original last name wasn’t even Stalin! Russia lost more men than any other country during the World Wars. The Russian people have had to endure more upheaval and tyranny than almost any other country in history. Between harsh conditions in the winters, bad political leadership over a majority of their history, and countless invasions, it’s a wonder so much of their heritage has been preserved. The Russians didn’t invent the atom bomb or atomic warfare. The Russians didn’t take aim at us because of differences in political views. America did those things. And, in case you haven’t noticed, the Cold War has been over for more than a decade. The whole thing had been based on rude stereotypes and political differences, anyways. Stop hating Russians.
You’ve probably seen The Nutcracker. We wouldn’t have had that without Russia. Same goes for all of Tchaikovsky’s works, including Swan Lake. Countless ballets would be missing from history, along with a good deal of classical music, were it not for Russia. Some of the world’s most impressive and/or beautiful architecture and art originated or is found in Russia. Some of history’s most famous dancers called Russia their homeland. Too often, we have taken Russia and its contributions for granted.
After all Russia has gone through, its people are still kinder and more welcoming than most Americans. Their everyday lives include conditions that would shock most Americans. Yet, they perservere and retain hope for a better future. They try to do what is right, even if their government does not always do the same. We shouldn’t hate Russians, that’s unfair to the people. Instead, we should admire the fact that they never give up on working for a better tomorrow. They want their country to have just laws and better living conditions than what can currently be found rural areas. They want people to visit and appreciate both the natural and manmade wonders of their mother country. They want to have the chance to share their culture without meeting prejudice. Don’t we owe them our respect for that?
In an eastern european airport, my father leaves me with no return ticket / in the plane, a violinist plays a medley so sharp the glasses chatter like old teeth / i am trying to resurrect relatives i never had / i want to move forward but the blood keeps pulling me back / to the mint leaves of my nani’s house / to the open brick staircase, to the crumbling house my mother’s brother lost to a scam / because we like to think we can raze our past to dust / (makes it easier to carry) / but then why / can i still feel my nana’s beard on my fingertips? / sometimes i find a strand of gray hair on my head / and see my nani’s smile / her little room on the second floor / where she died with a bucket to keep her company / and how alive, and full i am / of blood and zeal / a body that is not drowning itself with the fluids of its own creation / like a mountain stepping aside for a mighty river / but how i am floating to another land, another continent, another climat / could not breathe in the mumbai local because the sweat on his neck / felt less like indian summer and more like resin, sticky indian summer / not letting me go, me, not letting go / with no favourite city, no permanent address but an empty home in delhi / my bones so hollow and i as sickly as those i descended from / long gone, gone long / nothing but the architecture of memory / nostalgia letting me stand on my feet / colouring every moment that i was not in / with my presence, with my warmth / i am with you, nani / i don’t want to die / alone / i will not let you die / i did not let you die / alone / i was too young to be allowed to come to your funeral / i was left behind / i remember how swollen my mum’s eyes were / like deep brown berries in the sockets of her face / i wanted to pluck them with my little fingers / pull the plug on a comatose body / to make it less afraid of feeling lost / in such a zealous world /
It is a cruel irony that a region so blessed with the treasures of early human civilizations is also among those most troubled by conflict. As the violence threatens to annihilate some of history’s greatest monuments, we count the cost of our irreplaceable losses. Read more…
As many of you suspected (and wrote to me about), my account was recently hacked. I lost control of the account from July 20th to the 25th. During that time, a large amount of spam was posted to FYB. This is unfortunate, and I apologize for any annoyance it may have caused. Rest assured, it was far more annoying (not to mention embarrassing) for me than it was for you.
Thanks to the Tumblr support staff, I have regained control of my account, and will immediately delete all spam posts, restoring the FYB archive to its intended state.
I hope that by returning to my previous posting rhythm (one a day) and content (only brutalist architecture images that I scan personally), I can regain any loss in reputation FYB may have suffered during this brief hacking interlude.
Thank you to all of you who supported me by contacting Tumblr during this hack. I appreciate your help and support.
A few days have passed since I heard the word There is not much time left for me in this world I try to be strong so I put on this mask Yet the burden of death is a heavy task About to lose my everything Cancellation of my future dreams So I have written my testament My desire to live it screams I received my death sentence From a friendly man in white The being that is my essence Soon to fade into the night When you go out of town do you ever think of me The poison you put in your veins might make you share my fate I am so scared that I am shaking all day long Answer to the great mystery, most likely I’ll be gone The doctors are kind but unable to help As the panic grows I reflect on the self Will I remain beyond or will I be reborn For what is not longer should never be mourned As darkness and light collide I finally understand Atheism and faith unite as nature lets go of my mind As I let go to never ever again be here Passing into the heavenly void, never again to be scared
And as the Director accurately predicted in his thesis on the subject, we see that cognitive impression modeling can be segregated from the host. Naturally, this remains an inherently deconstructive process. But most of all the biggest concern of any full A.I. entity, is the prospect of rampancy, which we covered last week.
okay, so, i was thinking (AGAIN, AS I HAVE BEEN FOR MONTHS) about what this concluding fragment of the Counselor’s lecture could POSSIBLY mean, because it’s just very confusing, and…cognitive impression modeling involves taking an engram of the subject’s brain, which, unless the process differs significantly from Halo canon, requires that the brain that made Alpha belonged to a flash clone of the Director and retained some of all of his personality, mannerisms, memories, etc. I suspect that “segregation from the host” means that these aspects deviate from the original to the resultant AI, which could occur at any stage of the process by which AI are created.
The deviation being deconstructive rather than, say, transformative, implies that much is lost along the way, which could happen at the cloning stage (has it been plausibly explained why clones have their progenitors’ memories and personalities? mods??), the cognitive impression modeling stage (which destroys the brain being modeled), and/or the transfer of the cognitive impression model to the Riemann matrix that serves as the architecture for the AI program (potential data loss could result from as yet insufficiently advanced technology that is inherently subject to read/write errors, but also from exclusion or modification of inapplicable data - for instance, sensory functions that are wired for biological sensory organs but are made redundant by existing Riemann matrix code that interfaces more effectively with digital systems and hardware instrumentation, or parasympathetic controls that no longer have a body that they viably apply to and that would cause undesirable conflict when interfacing with another human’s nervous system). This explains Cortana’s and Alpha’s dissimilarity to their progenitors, and also why the Counselor ties this lecture in with the topic of rampancy - data loss, data corruption, and base code instability all contribute to AIs being doomed to eventually go rampant. The technology, the programming that runs and interfaces with the likely already-flawed cognitive impression model, just isn’t at a state where it can handle running an AI without eventually crashing.
And hell, maybe that’s the reason Alpha and Epsilon haven’t gone rampant despite the length of time that has passed, according to the characters - the fact of cognitive impression model segregation, and that it is a deconstructive process, would be well established ~400 years after the first AIs were developed, so any mention of it in the Director’s cutting-edge research would likely be because it’s common knowledge that is relevant to the developments his thesis covers. If he’s writing a thesis on the process by which a brain becomes an AI (and oh my goodness doesn’t that sound like a schoolhouse rock song), that means he’s got an interesting line of research in the subject. Maybe he managed to make improvements in the current Riemann matrix’s programming, increasing its stability.
also, potentially all of this is embarrassingly obvious or wrong! i know seriously fuckall about computers, which makes it really impressive that i’ve fooled all of you into reading my AI stuff thus far.
Fortified places It is a curious comment on our architecture, not to say civilization, that grown-up people have been known to be in raptures over the esthetic adventures afforded by a “split level” house. Which suggests that we seem never quite able to leave the ground on our modest flights of architectural fancy. Never having a change to wend our way through imaginatively devised space, we are unlikely to be good judges of the architecture shown here. Yet even the poor snapshots hint at some of its delights. The fascination of labyrinths and secret chambers, of murky passages and vertiginous flights of steps–all the eternal mysteries of enclosed space–is here conveyed without loss of impact by being translated into an architectural idiom that is at once complex and crystal clear. Neither house nor town but a synthesis of both, this architecture was conceived by people who build according to their own inner light and untutored imagination.
(Bernard Rudofsky, Architecture Without Architects)
I only know of what I lost the sweetness of air made me want to breathe, breathe so deep my lungs would burst I was high without ever taking a toke I lived like my last day loved like tomorrows were gone
I know what I lost I lost the blueprints of my soul…