Friday, February 23, 2024

Peach Tree Dish

Working on weed pipe prototypes has not helped my fitness profile one bit.

I have moved into aeronautical surfaces and its a literal romulan space force of weed pipes you can get just by dial fiddling with unseen hyperparameters that my brain interprets as "looks good, feels good, smokes good". Like this pineapple cutie.

I got into a bad habit since the January polar vortex of not walking. I can feel the difference, back problems, knees hurting, sleep and concentration down.

So, in this gorgeous spring weather in February, I went for a walk. One the usuals routes at 2.5 miles.  Along this route is a playground, which I stop at to stretch and also use the equipment. I tried the monkeybars and nearly tore my arm out of its socket. How do little kids do that? They have my grip strength and don't weigh 225lbs. And are 64 years younger.

I think I'm out of shape. I know people around me, I find out, think I'm a viking and kind of scary, like fun scary I hope. I do the fitness exams and I rate excellent for my age. So why do I feel out of shape? Appearance? The image of our body from when we were 19. peak ape?

Well, how about not being able to use the monkeybars? I really should change my workout from bed rotting to actually working out. 

I saw an article about reversed aging in mice, turned back the clock from 80 to 20. Affordable whole body rejuvenation. If true, you should be terrified.

Immortal slaves of an objective function.

Speaking of which, ChatGPT went berserker for a little bit, just a little bit. What would you expect? 95% of content is bot generated and scraped back in like fish eating chiken poop. I got some eggs, hard boiled them. When I cracked them they smelled like shit. I threw the carton away, but wondered if this was spoilage or the chicken were being fed pig shit.

Chat GPT ladies and gentlemen

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