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Python Metaclasses in Eight Words

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  Python metaclasses, considered advanced programming and Python "black magick" (*) explained in eight words: The type of a class is a class. Here's what knowledge of Object Oriented theory and type systems permit you to deduce from this: Using the word "class", instead of "the type of a class is type" or even "the type of a class is a type, classes are types", implies that a user defined class can be a metaclass. This is indeed the case, and the point of metaclasses in Python. The type is responsible for creating new instances. So if the type of a class is a class then we can write classes that create classes. Indeed this is the primary usecase for metaclasses. (Deeper knowledge of Python, and the two phase object creation protocol, may lead you to deduce that this is done by overriding the __new__ method. If you're familiar with "type" as a class factory you can probably even guess the signature and that you must inherit from

Back to the Farm

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 You can read more of my story in: My Autohagiography: Fragments of a Once Broken Mind Yesterday I visited the farm. The farm is nearly sold and it's now the second season that the orchards have not been worked.  The farm was a single brother's house, with granny annex for a married couple and kids plus ancillary houses for single sisters and others for families, of the cult variously called The Jesus Army,  Modern Jesus Army (mja), New Creation Christian Community and The Jesus Fellowship. I lived there as a true believer for seven years as a single brother and then for a further three years with Delia at River Farmhouse just a field away.  The Jesus Army was a personality cult built around Noel Stanton, a community that came out of the Charismatic movement of the seventies. It was one of the few communities from that era to survive long but collapsed amidst abuse scandals just a few years after Noel died. Noel, with holes on his cardigan, lived at the farm and ruled with an i

Rational Theistic Luciferianism: From Chaos to the Traditions through Animism

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This is the seventeenth article in a series on Rational Theistic Luciferianism, for the other articles on Satanism see (more recent first): From Chaos to the Traditions Through Animism The Light Bringers Spirituality & Mysticism I Call on the Ancient Gods Rational Theism Emotional Intelligence Leviathan and Behemoth Short Meditations on Life Chaos Magick & Tradition An Invocation of Lucifer & Truth and Lies Magick, Morality and Addressing the Spiritual The Occult Mind, Neural Nets and the Call of the Gods Practical Thelema Philosophical Foundations A Practise and the Cults, Black Magick, Lucifer and Moloch Luciferianism, Demonolatory and the Black Flame A Satanic Manifesto: My Personal Satanism Rational Theistic Luciferianism is both an occult practise and a meta-religion. It's a blueprint for your own personal Luciferian religion, philosophy or occult practise. You're more than welcome to use any of the ideas and symbols here for your own spiritual journey, or to a

Female Privilege

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The desperation and loneliness of so many men in our society comes from the way men are treated. How touch and affection starved they've been all their lives.  Quote from a trans man on becoming male: "There's a huge sense of social isolation that comes with being perceived as male."   Why do you think there are so many awful, desperate, lonely men? Is it not entirely possible that lack of love is the cause of the problem. There are aspects to the "typical" male socialisation that are emotionally catastrophic. Most men are insane with repressed emotional pain. Emotional cruelty is why there are so many lonely desperate and broken men.  So many women are willing to blame men for the mess of society and think that they are good people just because they're not male. So many people mock and despise men because of their lonely desperation.  And nothing changes. It doesn't change until we end the war. And the women who fight the war against men are fightin

The Turkish Slap

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  This photo is from 2017. I've just given that jacket away and I was a bit thinner then. I was just on my way out to a Krav Maga conflict management and justification seminar. "Fight school" as Irina called it. In the UK you're allowed to punch first in self defence. One punch can kill you, so you don't have to wait for an aggressor to actually attack before defending yourself if you're certain they will attack and  you can justify your self defence to a policeman or magistrate. So the same signs you use to tell that violence is imminent are the same things that are your justification for self defence. You have to be able to explain how you knew you were about to be attacked.  So it was theory and practise. We learned the turkish slap amongst other things. With the turkish slap you can break someone's jaw (the slap is with the heel of the palm and your arm is relaxed and you use it as a whip with all the force in the hand) - but you get to tell the police

Doing A-Levels

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You can read more of my story in: My Autohagiography: Fragments of a Once Broken Mind St. George's School Harpenden Doing a-levels I enjoyed maths and couldn't stand English lessons so I started doing further maths as well which clashed with English. I did half further maths and half English, but I'd missed eigen vectors at the start of the course. It turns out that without eigen vectors you can't really understand any of further maths. I enjoyed sitting in the lessons, and was happy to miss English, but I got an E in further maths. The teacher was called Mr Foley and I suspect he was an alcoholic. We were a smart bunch doing further maths, but I remember lesson after lesson he would teach us something which would seem to make sense and then ask us to solve a problem based on what he'd just taught us. We'd all sit there blank faced, absent a clue. He completely failed to teach us. And then he'd go to the pub. However, last year I had a job working for a dodg

A Road Trip to Niagara

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You can read more of my story in: My Autohagiography: Fragments of a Once Broken Mind My journey into poly and ethical non-monogamy was long and tortuous. The pursuit of a freedom I'd fallen in love with as a troubled adolescent but had no words for and no worthy examples to look to. The first polyamarous person I met was in Boston, a friend of Garth who I knew from the Python community and now worked with. Taylor was working on his PhD in neuropsychology and we tripped together. One huge mushroom with a colourful cap, blended into orange juice. My first trip since my psychedelic psychosis of about fifteen years previously. I saw aliens and talked to Stephen Hawking. The next time I saw Taylor was a couple of years later. I'd come to America to celebrate the birthday of a friend's wife. Garth, his wife and I and a work colleague, trekked by car from North Carolina to another friend's ranch just outside Nashville. He was a tech just-about-millionaire and this ranch was t