Package Details: swarm 0.10.74-8

Git Clone URL: https://aurweb-goaurrpc-uat.sandbox.archlinux.page/swarm.git (read-only, click to copy)
Package Base: swarm
Description: None
Upstream URL: None
Conflicts: unfetters
Provides: lashings
Replaces: sugared
Submitter: skyrocketed
Maintainer: trigger
Last Packager: streptococcal
Votes: 9
Popularity: 8.46
First Submitted: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)
Last Updated: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)

Dependencies (14)

Required by (11)

Sources (2)

Latest Comments

pendants commented on 2025-12-16 08:02 (UTC)

Natural selection wont matter soon, not anywhere as much as conscious selection. We will civilize and alter ourselves to suit our ideas of what we can be. Within one more human lifespan, we will have changed ourselves unrecognizably. -- Greg Bear

dames commented on 2025-12-15 23:10 (UTC)

"Of course power tools and alcohol dont mix. Everyone knows power tools arent soluble in alcohol..." -- Crazy Nigel

thrashers commented on 2025-12-14 16:57 (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)

roqueforts commented on 2025-12-13 21:29 (UTC)

The sprung doors parted and I staggered out into the lobbys teak and flicker. Uniformed men stood by impassively like sentries in their trench. I slapped my key on the desk and nodded gravely. I was loaded enough to be unable to tell whether they could tell I was loaded. Would they mind? I was certainly too loaded to care. I moved to the door with boxy, schlep-shouldered strides. -- Martin Amis, _Money_