My Faults My Own

…beleaguered by the same

negation and despair,

show an affirming flame.

IN WHICH Ross Rheingans-Yoo, a sometimes-poet and erstwhile student of Computer Science and Math, oc­cas­ion­al­ly writes on things of int­erest.

Reading Feed (last update: April 14)

A collection of things that I was happy I read. Views expressed by linked authors are chosen because I think they're interesting, not because I think they're correct, unless indicated otherwise.


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Blog: Marginal Revolution | The importance of local milieus — "We find suggestive evidence that co-locating with future inventors may impact the probability of becoming an inventor. The most consistent effect is found for place of higher education; some positive effects are also evident from birthplace, whereas no consistent positive effect can be derived from individuals’ high school location."

Blog: Shtetl-Optimized | How to upper-bound the probability of something bad — an algorithmist's guideline.

Blog: The Unit of Caring | Anonymous asked: you have the most hilariously naive politics i've ever seen... — "[in conclusion...] And I think anon is wrong about whether I need to grow a backbone."


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Blog:

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A Verse for the Armistice

Out there, we’ve walked quite friendly up to Death,—  
  sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,—
    pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.

We’ve sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,—  
          our eyes wept, but our courage didn’t writhe.

He’s spat at us with bullets and he’s coughed  
                shrapnel. We chorussed when he sang aloft,
                  we whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!  
  We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
    No soldier’s paid to kick against His powers.

We laughed,—knowing that better men would come,  
          and greater wars: when each proud fighter brags
            he wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags.
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