Rummaging through files that I’ve kept since childhood, I came across this certificate that I received in 6th grade of my elementary school in Berkeley, CA. Yes, that Berkeley, soon to be overrun by Beatniks, Hippies, then revolutionaries… My home town.
It was illegal - as it should be - to teach religion in public schools. So a couple of times a week, I left the school and went into a school bus parked just outside the playground. It was outfitted with small desks where we sat and listened to non-denominational lessons. We generally read Bible stories, I think mostly from the Old Testament, with lots of of White people in robes, herding sheep and bowing down before beams of light from above. I don’t remember learning about Jesus’s crucifixion, etc., but I probably did.
I enjoyed the classes and probably tended to believe the stories. My religious period came in later grades, primarily from 8th through 11th. I’d pretty much ceased believing in God by the time I entered College. I still very much wanted there to be a God (I’d be very happy for gods or a God to show up, provided that they believed in loving one another): this made it easier for my college to seduce me into majoring in philosophy, one of my worst mistakes.
I made this note years ago, probably in the 90s, and have kept it taped to my wall ever since.
I’m especially tickled by the language, which both assumes and denies that God exists. It’s the sort of sentence that philosophers have devoted piles of books to, the bestseller, Gödel, Escher, Bach, being a prime example.
This still shot of the result shows the two circles quite clearly. Notice that the brush is painting from the inner circle. The outer circle serves no obvious function.
My version of Ps does the same thing: This screenshot shows what happens when I drag the brush to the right: I can’t see the inner circle, which is where the painting will occur, so I have to guess where to place the brush.
This drives me crazy when trying to paint carefully on a mask, for example.
Is there any way to remove the useless (to me) outer circle or make the brush paint where the outer circle is?
u/areyouredditenough, I’m not sure I understand your question. The best I can think to do is to tell you what I did.
One day I discovered that Dropbox didn’t seem to be syncing files from my computer to my iPad and other laptop. I panicked a bit and started making sure that ~/Dropbox had the files that I wanted it to have. I downloaded a bunch of stuff. In other words, I soon had TWO versions of Dropbox, one partial one in the old location, one in the new one that I knew nothing about. And syncing still didn’t work.
Finally I noticed the warning about CloudStorage (well hidden) and realized that that I had TWO versions of Dropbox.
So what I did was rename ~/Dropbox to ~/Dropbox-old-location and then made it unreadable:
Then I made a symbolic link so that things would look normal:
> cd; ln -s Library/CloudStorage/Dropbox .
So now this is the situation chez moi:
> cd; ls -ld Dropbox*
lrwxr-xr-x 1 ge staff 28 Dec 10 16:37 Dropbox -> Library/CloudStorage/Dropbox
d--------- 28 ge staff 896 Sep 9 14:23 Dropbox-old-location
I hope this answers your question. I used shell commands to explain what I did because that’s the way I did it. Obviously I’m using MacOS or whatever Apple marketing calls it now.
Rereading your post, I think you’ve managed to catch Dropbox in the process of moving its files and you’re wondering if you could speed things up by moving the files yourself. If that’s your question, I don’t know the answer. Your idea sounds reasonable, but will Dropbox figure out what you’re doing? I have no idea. My cautious nature says to wait and let DB do its job.
Let me know if I understand your question better this time!
While in Tunisia, I learned to cook couscous Southern Tunisian style, in other words,the best kind of couscous that there is.
Although I often used canned harissa, I also went sometimes to a little shop where harissa was sold like this:
I would order 100 grams. The merchant would tear a piece of heavy grey paper, weigh the harissa on it and use the paper to wrap it up in a clever way and give it to me.
Walking back the 100 or so meters to the place where I lived, I would carry my piece of paper or a baguette. There’s something very special about doing that. The objects themselves took on an aura absent from our modern world.
It’s even stranger to remember that the 50 or so Peace Corps Volunteers who arrived in Tunis in 1964 were whisked off to a restaurant where we ate things like couscous, harissa, even lamb for the first time in our lives! We old folks have witnessed incredible changes in our lives, and younger people will witness even more.
