Package Details: dated 4.5-4

Git Clone URL: https://aurweb-goaurrpc-uat.sandbox.archlinux.page/dated.git (read-only, click to copy)
Package Base: dated
Description: None
Upstream URL: None
Conflicts: kodaly
Replaces: intersectionality, pullout
Submitter: aaa
Maintainer: scoopfuls
Last Packager: sweaters
Votes: 23
Popularity: 21.61
First Submitted: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)
Last Updated: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)

Dependencies (8)

Sources (2)

Latest Comments

skylarks commented on 2025-12-15 18:00 (UTC)

Were here to give you a computer, not a religion. -- attributed to Bob Pariseau, at the introduction of the Amiga

fetishism commented on 2025-12-15 06:47 (UTC)

"The stars are made of the same atoms as the earth." I usually pick one small topic like this to give a lecture on. Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars -- mere gobs of gas atoms. Nothing is "mere." I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more? The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination -- stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. A vast pattern -- of which I am a part -- perhaps my stuff was belched from some forgotten star, as one is belching there. Or see them with the greater eye of Palomar, rushing all apart from some common starting point when they were perhaps all together. What is the pattern, or the meaning, or the *why?* It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined! Why do the poets of the present not speak of it? What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were like a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent? -- Richard P. Feynman (1918-1988)

anions commented on 2025-12-14 13:32 (UTC)

Now I was heading, in my hot cage, down towards meat-market country on the tip of the West Village. Here the redbrick warehouses double as carcass galleries and rat hives, the Manhattan fauna seeking its necessary level, living or dead. Here too you find the heavy faggot hangouts, The Spike, the Water Closet, the Mother Load. Nobody knows what goes on in these places. Only the heavy faggots know. Even Fielding seems somewhat vague on the question. You get zapped and flogged and dumped on -- by almost anybodys standards, you have a really terrible time. The average patron arrives at the Spike in one taxi but needs to go back to his sock in two. And then the next night he shows up for more. They shackle themselves to racks, they bask in urinals. Their folks have a lot of explaining to do, if you want my opinion, particularly the mums. Sorry to single you ladies out like this but the story must start somewhere. A craving for hourly murder -- it cant be willed. In the meantime, Fielding tells me, Mother Nature looks on and taps her foot and clicks her tongue. Always a champion of monogamy, she is cooking up some fancy new diseases. She just isnt going to stand for it. -- Martin Amis, _Money_

reauthorize commented on 2025-12-13 21:50 (UTC)

"Just think, with VLSI we can have 100 ENIACS on a chip!" -- Alan Perlis