Not an apostate but a heretic

no more "do I enjoy being tied up because I secretly crave an excuse not to fight back against intimacy because of my mother", that is dumb and useless.

Out of 100 posts that are 99% likely to be bullshit, you will on average have 99 creative writing stories and 1 guy having the worst, weirdest month of his life who is desperate for advice on what to do about his couch eating Brother in law or whatever.

In general the mods there have decided that the tradeoff of 99 people getting up votes for nonsense is worth helping the one person in desperate surreal need. (There are also other benefits; treating all posts as if they are real avoids endless unsolvable arguments in the comments)

Let me be clear, this drug addiction shit is no joke. I made some serious miscalculations here, didn't treat the risks with respect and let myself flout sensible rules unseriously, just for the catharsis of a crash-out without truly believing it would expose me to any real danger.

I was wrong, badly, and may have totally fucked myself. Kind of can't believe some of the places this has been landing me, and it's clear my own decision making process can no longer be trusted. It's even worse because it doesn't feel like anything is wrong, I feel totally normal, except for when I'm seized by inexplicable desire to take the drug, or when it turns out that some plan of action I was drafting myself contains an implausibly coincidental amount of [OBTAIN AND USE SUBSTANCE] beats.

I'm fascinated, horrified, and still somewhat in disbelief. I keep not believing in the scope of this problem, quietly forgetting knowledge of it, then immediately tripping and falling into it again as I find myself doing something totally mad. Frantically working to come to terms with the scope of the problem and resolve it in a way I won't self-sabotage.

Don't get addicted to drugs, I think. It's bad. That's not to say I think drugs themselves are bad; I think it's possible to do pretty much all of them relatively safely in the right context, or at least within at least somebody's chosen risk budget. But don't play around with addiction risk, treat it with respect no matter how fake it may sound that your brain will start to act against you.

Because the problem is it doesn't; you start to act against you, and you don't even realise what you're doing until it becomes so cartoonishly bad as to trigger self-reflection. I didn't realise I was actually addicted to anything until I was halfway through explaining to a friend in full earnestness that I could sooner imagine dying than a universe where I chose to give up access to it. It didn't feel strange as I said it at all, and it was only on internal mental replay that some part of me flagged, "hang on, what we're saying right now is obviously totally insane?"

Hahaha boy and you guys don't even know how nuts it got after that. Ya girl is cooked

It's like a fucking weed that grows inside of you. Then flowers in your brain, ripping your psyche apart

You will shatter into pieces that will scream at each other to do this and that but be powerless to enforce control.

You will watch yourself do things that hurt yourself, and you will want them, and you won't understand why.

You will feel guilt for how the things you do hurt others. Because you hurt you, and they love you. So they blame you, too. And you feel guilt for it but also resent it. Resent them for loving you. Hate yourself for letting them.

You will see your values and your lifestyle and your relationships start to falter and crumble away, and you will feel the pain and grief as much as you ever would. But you cannot undo the damage you are causing. Because you will find that whatever you love and are losing, you will love something else more. You will love something else more than anything else in the universe. And you can't fight the fact that you feel it's genuinely worth it. Because, fuck. Because it is.

Tasp logic

Some things are unhealthy to the long term human well being. We are not designed for them. Experiential info-hazards. Like looking into the eye of an eldritch god and losing your mind. Some hard drugs are like that, literally. You will lose your mind once you begin to understand simultaneously how awful it is, but know that somehow it is still worth it to you. That you still can't not love it more than what you lose. When what you lose is in fact the world.

An old version of file(1) stumbled over the metadata for postscript files tagged with the creation date "Tuesday". CUPS checks whether you've fed it a printable file before printing, so this causes cups to halt printing because it suddenly misidentifies the file as an Erlang JAM file.

But we can't retract those, or add a note, an expression of concern, because these people didn't do anything wrong. They are victims. Can't just put a black mark on some guy's publication record!

Nobody is enforcing standards! Everybody is dragging their feet! Once something is published, it stays there. The only exceptions are if you sleep with a student or colleague, or if you make a sexist remark, or if you plagiarise.

And even then, you may get away with it if you plagiarise somebody who isn't important or powerful.

Nobody even gives a shit when a whole journal turns out to be bunk, or a whole publisher has zero standards.

- the offence was killing Chuck Wizard’s dad, thinking that he had kidnapped a child to do evil shit. Child was found later literally fine and they had just automatically assumed that freak from the tower musta done summat

- Chuck Wizard essentially became immortal out of spite