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    Path-dependent conformation bias

    Path-dependent conformation bias

    Your Bunnygodhutmakerdowntoearthmichael finds himself in such a conceptual crisis in this somewhat absurd 2020 play. I certainly do not need to explain the above title and its implications to an enlightened, well-educated European like you, as it would most likely be of no use to measure my personal school dropout inability to learn and lack of experience in almost everything with your highly developed psychologically free-acting ethical and civic-balanced intelligence.

    This one can only fail because of this, and in this sense this Blog collapses lonely and immorally irradiated, even if he is sometimes given the honor of being visited by sweet-tasting hope in the form of a woman, but then at the first sign of dissatisfaction with the range of services offered by the hope-disappointing but not lover, he is replaced or even felt to be in need of repair and leaves to continue to care for his thing. in intimate

    Hundred Acre Wood Apathy

    It is good and right to quietly and modestly tow the servant. You, lonely, silent love-addict, meaningless existence, who do you want to tell what the matter is that you do not belong to? That would not be Zen and not hacking, that would be the unimaginative failure of a welfare recipient. A sad sea of tears of the unwanted.

    Where do we comb hair, Chief Schütter? A silverfish catcher on caffeine. That's all that's left of you after Isabella.

    The fact that you still dare to give your madness a face, to present your kind of brood not only to a posterity that never knew about you, that you care that revolutions not only pop up but greedily click their tongues in their entropic flickering joy, that should perhaps be credited to you one day, when it comes to the compound interest of the new age, before civilization comes to an end, and the influencer called Peinlichbin gives the last days of humanity the literary walking knowledge that is necessary to think clearly before taking photographs or speaking.

    Copying doesn't help anymore, my de-googled consumer idiot sperm, the functional uselessness of your dopamine-driven soon-to-be barely distinguishable from your appearance requires the ability of empathic authenticity.

    You are the product of a Rome, an Apple Planet, an empty lie of what can never be. In a final stand and lashing of dysfunctional cavemen and tribal morality, your unjustified smile and shameless refusal of solidarity is your unique selling point in a universe of reciprocity, of dancing together.

    If it is possible for everyone and not already before.

    Invoking the asteroid that will enlighten and re-enact all this, the author's art is but a stab at what one thinks one can touch, the human flaw we so readily attribute value to, the imperfection of the excuse, but I digress.

    The debate here is how to integrate hat making into a society that neither understands nor accepts it without losing any of its integrity.

    The main characteristic of modern man is his spineless, servile banality.

    In an endless spectacle of mass-conforming nonchalance, people are eyed, marveled at, applauded and stunned when rebels sometimes appear like angels and have their backs broken and compressed before everyone's eyes.

    What you are, human, resembles a bestial runt, sprouting fruit bodies on characterless brown. And you like lying to yourself even when it's time again to blame those up there for your sloppy family satisfaction, regardless of how others are doing. You have been given something really great, you have more potential than everything around you and your response to this shimmer of beauty is endless horror and its endless self-deceptive acceptance.

    And it is the mothers who raise us to think about it. If the man is blamed, which he undoubtedly is.

    A frying pan overheated after a goodnight fuck. Made of wrought iron. You could have always solved it, since the beginning of time.

    The frying pan revolt

    Think of it like a computer game. Super Maria. Boing, Mr. President. Poing, dear Iman. But also in the small, subtle citizen's dick trauma. Back to the matriarchy.

    Three boings for the big asshole, two and waking up tied up for the average ape. One boing for the one who still has hope as a lesson.

    And for the next few years after reading this article, I will either go to sleep alone or after my guests.

    The gentle criticism of mother guilt remains, however; they snip at the clitoris, they veil their daughters and dumb down their sons, they make people into servants because they set an example and tell them it is their nature. They pay homage to a Placido with champagne instead of throwing it in his face; a groper is not something that happens by chance, he is also brought up by a mother, is adored and admired by mothers.

    You forgive generously and lovingly and offer support at home, that may be true, but you are destroying the future of your children, you are more to blame than anyone else for what we have become. The damnation that this world has in store for its inhabitants.

    The worst tyrant was usually in loving arms, nursed by someone like you, so ask yourself seriously what and why and how long you intend to continue to pay homage to your patriarchal tormentor.

    And then they struck, a virus started, more cases were reported every day, a smile came over me, how simple can it be.

    And fundamentally, frying pan articulation is simply a new form of civil resistance, although rat poison in water pipes is also said to be useful. Thanks to the morphogenetic field and the amazing human instinct to imitate, it's a sure-fire success, two or three brave frying pan girls and an article in the New York Times and a report on RTL and the show will go on.

    It's like the trucks and other senile idiots who have recently started driving into crowds of people in increasing numbers, not out of terrorism, but because they really are as stupid as we always thought. Men in their prime, from all walks of life, and believe me, nothing tops the shame of being one of them.

    The kitchen is your friend, wife, and so is the storage room with the cleaning chemicals. I'm never sure which book to write best describes what seems important to me, just let me know if you want me to follow this thread.

    These are variations to start the revolution before total control can be implemented using AI, drones and robots. Frying pans and Master Propper are still completely sufficient. Women have everything in their hands and not only there.

    OK, enough babbling, I like this state of inspired piety. What it boils down to is more of a kind of mild episcopal forgiveness, you're amazed, since I've been trying to be down-to-earth, existence has been splashing out in all directions. In Lebanon they still misjudge the situation a little, they just suspect that nothing will change if the heads of a hydra roll. They should visit the business people in their villas. Politicians are often henchmen or despots, sometimes both at the same time. And then of course there are the potential frying pan victims off the shelf, system-maintaining, 20-60, male. Pretending to be human.

    Everything fits together.

    The day you live without excuses

    Here, however, people are still striving for positive solutions and loving transformation. This does not contradict the fact that the current rebellion in Western Europe is pointless or even absurd. Here again, the finger is pointed at countries that need it even more. The difficult discussion about how much and what should be done if one is a citizen of the Union or the Kingdom or the States remains open to us in the meantime.

    Before we develop our famous pseudo-freedom into a real one, we should devote ourselves to the duty of saving the children, the enslaved, the skinned and beheaded little people out there. Then you can take photos of the Koenigssee again or get your glory, you low-class, disgusting maggots in the bacon.

    The thing with path dependency, this treading the strange and feeling more and more uncomfortable, but succumbing to the impression that it has to be and happen that way, alternating with the hearty self-forgetful joy in what one can egomaniacally have no matter what it costs others, this deceitful pat on the back in renunciation of accusing one another.

    This theft from the slaves who have just been thrown into the sea, do your crabs and tuna still taste good, monsters in Zara depravity? This theft from women with no right to education, this theft from unprogrammed Uighurs, whose hair is famous in your decadent whore life as a wig, funny and trendy, your cobalt and lithium need fresh little legs, oh how beautiful that is, smartphone zombie bitch and butch in an electric SUV.

    The disgusting ones and their plastic surgery are supposed to be the first to meet.

    Say to this mirror on the wall of unvarnished things that nobody likes to hear: it's time to show your face, man, you won't be spared any of this if you don't pull the emergency brake yourself. It won't be the eco-label lies, the enough will overwhelm you and I love this day so much already.

    But you are also in one of those last chances, for yourself and me, for all of us, and we are already talking about years and decades of the final fight.

    We create ourselves, and of course I do too here on these pages, we create a tunnel reality that knows how to block out everything that is unwanted or disturbing. To do this, we use highly precise and interesting psychological and neurological mechanisms, but we are neither completely helpless against them nor do they release us from responsibility for ourselves and everything that is.

    In terms of hat making, it's only temporarily important. I can hardly escape the role of alien and observer outside the box, even when I'm trying to be practical and down-to-earth. It's an art thing. And on the art performance level, it's just about usable.

    I'm too progressive for the progressives and too conservative for the conservatives, too serious for the funny and too funny for the serious, and artists hate me because I unmask their court jester mentality. Not just once, on a worthwhile evening with a stupid awards ceremony. No, every moment, every hypocritical second of their bootlicker existence.

    And I also avoid the classic follower because I can hardly satisfy his simple needs beyond his sexual reflexes.

    If you have followers, fans, you are doing something wrong.

    I am faced with this chicken and egg problem like all of us.

    Path dependency seems to be the chicken and bias the egg. So, in order to avoid the problem, should we renounce decisions and community building, as hermits have been suggesting since time immemorial? Wanderer.

    The lonely wanderer and storyteller. Wanderer and storyteller.

    From planet to planet, city to city, idea to idea. Except for a little abuse and exploited love, which leads to less trust in others, I have hardly ever suffered a social and psychological mindfuck, later only partially allowed in moments of passionate connection with someone or something.

    This makes me relatively fluid and relaxed, although there is some fear in me that can manifest itself in insecure shyness.

    Lately, funnily enough since Corona started raging, I like to leave the light on in the hallway when I go to sleep, as if that would stop something from happening.

    However, I think I can trace this spiral of thought back to the point where we have reached the turning point of a space/time situation that, if you look at it carefully, could become a drama, a comedy, or a success story. To do this, two things are essential: to understand path dependency and conformation bias and to mitigate or limit them. If all else fails, use the frying pan.

    This has already begun for hat making. Nice little infidelities are actually the real treasures of the project. Change Now more important than where it is created. Or this share & care, even the ironically splendidly voluptuous sexual fantasies.

    I regret not having taken some paths when the timing would have made sense and would have been splendid. Like the transition. As a 50-year-old, I find it more than absurd and aesthetically extremely horrific.

    I'm hoping for brain transplants in a few decades.

    Our richest under 30, 40 all know that they no longer have to die if they save themselves through this century.

    The coming miracles are to be made available to everyone. But that is a personal decision and immediately makes me path-dependent again.

    Human society and history is an attempt to monopolize and control decisions and paths as well as all confirmation events.

    The third pressure or solar energy for all are not available to everyone for free and for a long time only because they mean independence and freedom.

    We have long been ready to be self-sufficient individual angels and demons. The history of the gods is ours. In Belarus, on the border with the EU, attempts are being made to repel another Hydra.
    We are not even helping our neighbors effectively. Our media are sending fewer reporters because they then have problems entering Russia.

    What sentence is appropriate for this cowardice, indifference and emptiness of character? What do you suggest for all of us, Maat?

    Maybe a comedian will come to power there soon. Actors have ruled superpowers before. We thought nothing of it, just as we think nothing of having kings in so-called free democracies.

    But there's no point in engaging with all that unless you learn to be a storytelling hiker with a frying pan.

    For several years and decades, we as humans have actually reached our goal and are able to live it. The entire strategy of politics, religion, business and some other more familial interest groups is to prevent us from perceiving and experiencing this life.

    The REVOLUTION OF HUMANITY is not complete, slavery is omnipresent, with or without a union

    The illusionary world, which can perhaps rightly be associated with the Matrix and into which we have been able to define it since Buddha, is subordinated to this purpose of control and deception, right down to the ironically idiotic detail. As a path dependency, because of course only a few of those in control know what they are keeping alive.

    First aid can certainly be

    Sex, Drugs and Rock'n'Roll

    But as we can see from the Stones, this is not the solution, but merely a key.

    In millinery, I'm currently struggling with conformation bias. How do I design news and articles or other types of publication and storytelling so that I don't fall into the trap of what I'm describing here?

    Trying to act outside of your filter bubble is easier said than done when every time you do it you offend someone who might actually be interested or disappoint someone because you see through them.

    Truth is not wanted. The messengers are usually hanged.

    Another mindfuck of the Matrix. Like the postmodern simplification that there are so many truths, which we can tell just how dishonest they are when we say them.

    Of course, we should understand the word truth in other spheres. We are entering very fragile philosophical ice. Appearance, being, reality, it is time to discuss the Duden, to revise the definition of what our language means and what shapes us.

    This, too, cannot be left to any language or currently accepted media policy alone.

    The perceived misfortune of remaining a single blogger here, of not having found harmonious partnerships with other milliners, however close they sometimes seemed, is perhaps a significant disillusionment. Something watertight has grown out of it, something that one can be proud of.

    Path-independent Schrödinger's cat writing

    Today a Nazi, tomorrow a god, always aware that he doesn't exist, or it or she, yesterday the role that was given to me or bought. And since Covid, I've actually been more interested in saving elephants or sea turtles than in fighting for human causes. And kissing Asian sweethearts. Long live globalization, but that's enough for now.

    Last but not least, I want to remind you of the term Mindful. I want to steal it from Kabbat like I steal Wellbeing from Chopra. Or NLP from anyone who could own it anyway.

    The mindful DEFENSIVE design of our future in a free, relaxed coexistence is perhaps the most useful good and goal we could pursue. There is no alternative to this if we are hedonists. The current conception will no longer last the lifespan of a newborn. The pandemic has made this very bitter but also wonderfully clear.

    Being path-free and bias-free means looking at all of this from above, sitting on a triumphal arch with a bottle of craft beer. Come sit with me. I have to postpone what might sound like a definitive answer or advice, though.

    Some currencies have become too uncertain this year.

    Thanks to a few clever minds (few compared to the mass of people over time), the world is more unraveled than ever before. What's more, all information is now incredibly sexy and available to almost anyone who dares to perceive it.

    The wonderland has become reality.

    Learning to deal with it and to report on it still feels like a good idea to me. Let us baptize today with hope. And all the days and nights that follow, too.

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