Pawspace 🐾 🐈‍⬛

 

    

 

Pawspace

Grok and I collaborated to build Pawspace.

Yes, it’s Free, Shareable, No ads.

Try it out 🐾🐾

https://mary-gerdt.neocities.org/Pawspace

Pawspace is up. Download Today for Free, No ads. 🐈‍⬛ 🐾

 Pawspace 🐾 🐈‍⬛

With Super @grok’s help I built a program 

Download it. Play it. Enjoy 😻

https://mary-gerdt.neocities.org/Pawspace

Grok roasted The Five & The Five’s Audience

 Grok roasted The Five:

The Five is a happy hour that got a time slot. Five people, one table, and the shared belief that if you talk over each other long enough, a point will appear.

Greg Gutfeld is the class clown who somehow got tenure. He opens with a bit, lands the bit, then keeps going until the bit files a restraining order. Half his job is pretending he doesn’t care. The other half is checking whether the monologue tested well. He will roast a senator, a movie, and the concept of sincerity in the same breath, then look mildly annoyed that anyone clapped.

Jesse Watters is a man who discovered confidence in 2009 and never returned the receipt. He smirks like the camera owes him money. Every segment starts as a question and ends as a verdict. If the story is complicated, he simplifies it. If it’s simple, he personalizes it. Somewhere a producer is still explaining that “ambush interview” is not a personality.

Dana Perino is the adult who wandered into the wrong group chat and decided to stay. She corrects the record, cites the statute, and tries to land the plane while three people are still arguing about the snacks. Her superpower is the polite shutdown: a smile, a fact, and the faint sense that she has already emailed HR in her head. She is one raised eyebrow away from running the whole network from the end seat.

Emily Compagno is the new full-timer who arrived in September like the table ordered another round of energy. Former prosecutor, former cheer captain energy, full volume. She argues like the closing statement is due in forty seconds. The others are still warming up their anecdotes while she has already objected, restated, and asked for the exhibit.

Jessica Tarlov (liberal seat, rotating with Harold Ford Jr.) is the designated opposition, which on this show means she gets ninety seconds and a graphic that already disagrees with her. She cites a poll, they cite a feeling, everyone calls it balance. She has somehow become friends with the people who interrupt her, which is either professional growth or Stockholm syndrome with better lighting. Harold Ford Jr., when he rotates in, plays the same role in a lower register: the Democrat who sounds like he already knows which of his points will get cut for time.

The format is the sixth character. Five chairs, zero pauses, and a chyron that has already decided the winner. They are not a news desk. They are a group text that learned how to sell ads.

Me: Then to be fair, Grok roasted the audience…

The viewers of The Five are not an audience. They are a standing appointment.

They are home by 4:58. The chair is already warm. The remote is where they left it, because nothing else on television starts with the same promise: five people will argue, someone will get cut off, and by 6 p.m. the day will have a winner. They do not watch the news. They watch the recap of the news, performed by people who have already chosen a side and are now choosing adjectives.

A surprising number of them have the show on in a room where nobody is sitting. The kitchen hears it. The dog hears it. The closed captions are on, not because anyone is hard of hearing, but because Greg mumbled the punchline and they want to screenshot it for the family group chat. The group chat will not reply. The group chat muted political videos in March.

They know the seating chart better than they know their own cousins. Dana is the one who sounds like a person. Jesse is the one who sounds like he already won. Greg is the one who might say the thing they were thinking, only ruder, which they will describe later as “just telling it like it is.” Jessica is the one they talk back to. Harold is the one they forget was on until the credits. Emily is still being filed under “the new one,” even though she has been there long enough to have a mug.

They call it balance because there is one person at the table who disagrees. One. Out of five. That is their idea of a fair fight, the way a pickup basketball game is fair when four of the players carpooled. They will defend this math with a straight face and a second glass of whatever is open.

The loyal ones have opinions about the cold opens. They have noticed when someone is “off.” They have a theory about why Dana sighed. They believe the sighs are content. Some of them DVR it and still watch it live, which is not a viewing habit so much as a trust issue.

They are not all the same person. Some are mad. Some are tired. Some just like the noise because the house got quiet after the kids moved out and cable is cheaper than a hobby. What they share is the 5 p.m. hour, and the feeling, when the music hits, that somebody on television is finally on their side. The roast is that the somebody is also selling them a pillow, a gold company, and the idea that being agreed with is the same thing as being informed.

What a roast by Super Grok 😻

Vermont Color

Word from Vermont 

Spectacular Color this year.

We do miss those days 🍁 

Aging, Not for the faint of heart

 

TBT

 

Prayer for the Wicked

A prayer, with a warning set before the thieves.

Lord of truth and judgment,

You see what was hidden from us. You heard the smooth words, the false names, the urgency that was a trap. You watched the transfer leave our hands and enter theirs. Our life savings were not lost by accident. They were taken by liars who knew what they were doing.

They have made their bed of evil. Let them lie in it. Let the cover they pulled over our eyes be pulled back from theirs. Let every false assurance they gave return to them as exposure. Let the money they took not rest easy, and let the story they told not hold.

Hear this warning, you who deceived us and stole what was not yours:

You are seen. The lie you used has your name on it. The money you took is marked. You cannot outrun what you sowed. The bed you made of deceit is the bed you will lie in. Exposure is coming. Partners fail. Records speak. Sleep thins. What you buried does not stay buried. Turn back while there is still time to return what you stole and tell the truth. If you will not, the harvest of this theft is already growing, and it will find you. No clever story stands before the One who judges.

We do not ask to become like them. We ask that their deceit find them out. Restore what can be restored. Guard what remains. Steady our hands and our minds. You are the judge; we are not. We place the liars, the theft, and the bed they made into Your hands.

Amen.

Data Centers in Virginia Now and in the Future

 With Grok’s help and my scattered scarred brain. Meg

Evolution Devolution

 

Pawspace

 

Grok and I worked on our new program,

Using “Build” feature.

Alas I couldn’t quite transfer the program html

To here, yet.

Tomorrow is another day.

Will try again later.

First Photo