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Since I presume my presumptions as such, I won't comment.
I see Dick Gregory on 34th with a magazine!
I've lived all over NYC, the boroughs and Jersey. Still thrilled every time I drive over the GWB and down the Henry Hudson Parkway at night.I've worked a couple of jobs at the relatively new Worldwide Plaza on 50th Street and Eight Avenue. What a dominant feature of the skyline that lighted pyramid on top has become!This panorama is built, of course, in Flash. Mac enthusiasts keep pronouncing Flash dead, but it keeps surviving! Especially in the academic world, where everybody (including our professor) wants to be a trendy Apple follower, Flash is derided. Still works for lots of stuff.
HTML5 will finally put Flash out of its misery.
The aerial view brings to mind the Manhattan Project.That or a circuit board.I could go either way.
It takes a very long time for a programming language to die. And if it was popular, someone comes along eventually with a virtual machine or other simulator so that people who want to reminisce can still enjoy it.I'd like a copy of that original TRS-80 manual.
I was just doing that in Google Earth! I was just there trying to figure out the whole place. And that's A LOT better than Google Earth.The thing that I still don't get from any globe or map or this panorama or anything even Google Earth yesterday flying in and out of the bay back and forth and all around, clicking on thousands of photos, going to the back, and now decades of confusion has caused me to conclude there never was a Manhattan Island and the whole thing about indians buying it for beads is nonsense because Manhattan is a peninsula not an island. It was all bullshit !!! 11 1 111 1 arrrrrrggggh pppffffttt. And someone said there used to be a river that divided it and it was filled in or covered.
My days of working and living in Manahatta (as Whitman called it) have probably ended. So many adventures, nightmares, gigs, crazy people, more sex than you can imagine, too many fucking lawyers, hitting the big time, going broke, hitting the big time again...Maybe I'll venture down for an occasional gig.Don't know if I will miss the hubbub and hustling. Time for this Old Dawg to lay down and take it easy.
Even in the worst times, Manhattan continues to be a hustler's paradise.I heard the siren call of that nasty bitch with the concrete heart when I was a kid living out in the middle of the corn fields. Always wanted to be there.In the midst of the panic of 2008, I could find work of some kind in Manhattan 24 hours a day, seven days a week, if I wanted it. In my teeny-tiny hometown, finding work was about knowing somebody and being born into a family that had connections or pull.That potential for making it entirely on your own, by your own sweat and mental labor is still what makes Manhattan the greatest city in the world.
My presumptions have made a pre out of u and me.
That's neat. I still need mountains.
That's neat. I still need mountains.We have mountains in Manhattan. They were built by men.
Those, us, should like to think in terms unthinkable, in order to attain that which should not be covetously attained, with or without the covet, as it were.
Shouting T - Grand skyscrapers are majestic and inspiring, but you can't climb them. Well, you can if you get a permit or if you're a window washer...The land that surrounds the entire area is so flat. New York really made the best of a flat situation.
The Irish, of which I shall speak and you shall read, are greatness with deep, deep remorse.If you don't get it, or my G E R M A N ness than I shall presume you know not how to build bridges; but only bomb.
Law dictates by guns and bombs that the most cleverest wins.Life is but one of many costs.Life is dead now.Not defendead, but only meekiness-factor-high defended.I will pay $1000 for an Ann Althouse vs. A. Barnhardt debate if I can moderate and post on Althouse.blogspot.com and barnhardt.biz with permission.
When, not if you smelly tuna-like figures, Truth comes, why then, by God, it comes.So, there's that.And, more than R. Lee in S. Kubrick's 1987 film (right after S. King's The Shining) guts was enough, now, guts are better than enough and wanted with the passion of trillions of billions of bitter lemmings.
My first question in/for the A.A.:At what point does righteous indignation stifle debate, and is this beneficial to the common causes of debate routinely cited or not, and why?At that, my role is done. But, per the greatest talker of all talkers to ever talk, Rush, I'm done only in sparking dialogue for this moment, here and now.
Personal note:I can see Inwood in the distance but I can't pickout my apt house - need a more detailed map of it.Could pick out the hospital where I was born, now considered to be in Harlem.In any event, thanks for this.
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