"Time is the substance I am made of.
Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river,
it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger;
it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire." Borges

Welcome to Valhalla

Three months ago, this was just a simple idea. Tonight I feel there is nothing we can't do. Much has been said that the scene is dying, that there is no coders to research and write the code:

I see that somewhere in a distant far-off machine cluster in the network, there is someone that's not sleeping.

I see someone whose mind's cosmos is fitting the ritual, seizing the light of Selene, or victorious over the sun.

I see the virus writing is alive.

hh86