Kait

@kait.dev

293 Followers 122 Following

Computer whisperer, improv comedienne, big-time Lurker energy 🤖 I game (poorly), I read (well), I write (meh)

A screenshot of an email, reading "From: Kait. To: Michael@cursor.so. Subject: Re: Here to help. Hi, Cursor wound up spitting out code with some bugs, which it a) wasn't great at finding, and b) chewed up all my credits failing to fix them. I had much better luck with a different tool (slower, but more methodical), so I went with that. Also, creepy telemetry is creepy. All the best, Kait"
An image of the New York City skyline at night
A cat laying atop a hand on a keyboard
A web app UI with a notification that reads, "This is an alert, jerks."
Now the Washington Post is even more dependent on Bezos’ “generosity” and, his defective judgment on what to do to fix that little problem.
A dropdown list of famous artists for the question “Who is your favorite artist?”
A meme template “how it started vs how it’s going.” On the started side, an uncooked pizza in the recognizable shape of a minion, complete with pepperoni glasses and outfit. On the how it’s going side, a melted mass of cheese that has filled the confines of the rectangular pan, with pepperoni half submerged or slid around erratically. The eyes are the only thing that make it recognizable from the original, though they are shrunken as if epically baked, and have drifted far apart.
A pride flag set behind a dumpster (also pride-colored) that's on fire
It's a rare condition, this day and age To read any good news on the newspaper page Love and tradition of the grand design Some people say it's even harder to find Well then there must be some magic clue inside these gentle walls 'Cause all I see is a tower of dreams Real love burstin' out of every seam As days go by We're gonna fill our house with happiness The moon may cry We're gonna smother the blues with tenderness When days go by There's room for you Room for me For gentle hearts an opportunity As days go by It's the bigger love of the family
I can't explain how this feels. Athletics bans don't affect me, personally, in terms of preventing me from playing sports - I'm well beyond the age or ability for it to matter. But that fact doesn't make it feel any less like another punch to the head, another hit to the gut, another in a long line of kicks when I already feel so beaten down. I can't explain this feeling. It's yet another way of being told that we're different, separate from, less than. Trans women are women except. Trans men are men but. It's especially disheartening when so many struggle to have even the basic aspects of their dignity respected (names, pronouns, getting an education, not getting fired for existing while trans). Time and again, the only concrete actions taken are to strip more from us. I can't feel. It's a systematic desecration of our humanity, a systemic approach to telling us not only do we not belong, but that we shouldn't exist. A cistem built on our destruction. I can't.
Text Shot: Maybe I’m falling out of love with gadgets on the whole. I dunno, my relationship with technology is fucking weird. Like, I’m still reading The Verge after all, but also am I enjoying reading The Verge? Yes and no. Do I really care about any of this shit? On the one hand, I am writing about it… so, yes. … But also no?
A screenshot of a text app from the author. The first message, at 12:33 pm, says "Just got pusher working. Trying to finish up FEATURE real quick." The second message, at 3:22 p.m., says, "Narrator: It was not real quick."
Two cats lie next to each other, one hugging and kicking the other’s head
A screenshot of the translucent windows from Windows Vista, using the Aero design language. It real ugly.
A screenshot from the old iPhone game “WordAce”. It looks like a Texas hold-em poker table.
A screenshot of a text file that reads, "1.1.3. MODIFIED. Changed how the year is calculated for report years AGAIN. Unclear how it worked the first time OR the second time, but this time it appears to be functioning properly. Y'know, just like the last two times."
A cat lying upside down, dead to the world
Article excerpt: Interviewer: The exact quote is that when he was asked about his frequent discussions about ethics, he responded: “It’s what reputations are made of, to some extent…this dumb game we woke Westerners play where we say all say the right shibboleths and so everyone likes.” Lewis: I think that’s true of him. This is implicit in his idea of, “Who cares about intent? It’s all about outcome and results.” You’d have to be a bozo of a reader not to see that this guy is playing games with people and manipulating them. But that was a weird moment because I didn't actually feel, actually having been there, that he was actually himself. I didn't feel like, ‘That was true Sam, and every other time you see Sam, he’s false Sam.’ It was an aberration. Except that I do think that the thing he said about conventional ethics being silly: that’s very Sam.
She was my best friend.” “I’ve never had one. What’s it like?” “I don’t know. I guess you can be yourself, whatever that means—the best and the worst of you. And they love you anyway. You can fight, but even when you’re mad at them, you know they’re not going to stop being your friend.”
Three kittens snugging up on each other
“I really don't want to question this whole thing because I'm not a wheelchair user, but this all seems highly improbable. Especially in a chair that's been described as older and a bit wobbly in the past.”
A screenshot of a page from a kindle book with links that have initials and numbers.
“Darrin,” her father said in a warning tone. “I know that might be the scientific term, but we’ve talked about using better words for human children than ‘vectors of disease.’” Heartstrings, Rachel Spangler
A pile of deconstructed Oreos that looks like weird lumpy ice cream sitting next to dirt
A cat lying in an ungainly pose on an office chair
A highlighted passage from a complaint. The highlighted portion reads, "Professor Epstein concluded by telling Plaintiff that he was the most fearless man he had ever met and it is unclear if this meant as a compliment."
An old print advertisement that asks where your hands should be during a date: on the table, working the rocket launcher or on your lap folded in prayer.
Two generated fists with a letter tattooed on each finger, reading LOVE GANG
Trans lady (in glasses) smiling at the camera
Text reading “It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it. UPTON SINCLAIR”