Package Details: suets 0.18.14-7

Git Clone URL: https://aurweb-goaurrpc-uat.sandbox.archlinux.page/suets.git (read-only, click to copy)
Package Base: suets
Description: None
Upstream URL: None
Conflicts: bypasses, overmaster
Submitter: proportionately
Maintainer: internalizes
Last Packager: realigned
Votes: 18
Popularity: 16.91
First Submitted: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)
Last Updated: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)

Dependencies (9)

Required by (7)

Sources (1)

Latest Comments

pulsates commented on 2025-12-15 03:48 (UTC)

The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left.

bikes commented on 2025-12-14 02:35 (UTC)

"I turn on my television set. I see a young lady who goes under the guise of being a Christian, known all over the nation, dressed in skin-tight leather pants, shaking and wiggling her hips to the beat and rhythm of the music as the strobe lights beat their patterns across the stage and the band plays the contemporary rock sound which cannot be differentiated from songs by the Grateful Dead, the Beatles, or anyone else. And you may try to tell me this is of God and that it is leading people to Christ, but I know better. -- Jimmy Swaggart, hypocritical sexual pervert and TV preacher, self-described pornography addict, "Two points of view: Christian rock and roll.", The Evangelist, 17(8): 49-50.

blinked commented on 2025-12-13 19:21 (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)