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The past is never dead. It’s not even past. —William Faulkner
died rather much the way he lived. Eating and drinking as he pleased, never exercising, chronically depressed.
the thickened muscle of the myocardium shows old transmural ventricular scars. The right coronary artery is completely occluded with calcified atherosclerotic plaque that crunches as I cut through it.
forensic genealogical DNA
we know carbon dating won’t work.”
“We can do nitrogen and protein analysis,”
“The Slasher’s addicted to the spectacles he causes,”
“The more attention he gets, the more he wants it.
cause of death is a “myocardial infarct due to hypertensive cardiovascular disease and atherosclerosis.”
Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Day, you name it. That’s when people killed themselves and each other.
“Christmas wasn’t all that happy when we were growing up,”
There was nothing extra for indulgences, barely enough for essentials.
the dangers of AI being infected by human nature. Inevitably it becomes more like us, taking on our own image, mimicking our behaviors. Which is as good as it’s bad.”
antidepressant Effexor.
We’re so in debt we’re sinking like the Titanic.”
We file separate tax returns. He’s secretive.”
La scritta è sul muro.
The writing is on the wall,
Once the uncommon is familiar, it’s human nature to let down one’s guard and become less vigilant, eventually paying no attention at all.
real pathology,
“One of these people who needs to be needed at the expense of everything and everyone.”
whatever has been said and done in the past is open season for AI. Nothing is forgotten, the past never past.
