
Google says it fixed a lot of the security holes the CIA exploited - Iuz
http://www.recode.net/2017/3/8/14864186/google-security-wikileaks-cia
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THELEGEND27
This is your father talking!

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THELEGEND27
Everybody’s got something to say about poetry because rhymes peak in meaning
shedding light on our unspeakables. For an ample example, take the other day
when I sat not knowing how to write a poem and assuming I was fruitlessly
booming the thin air, I yelled and spat my frustration: “How do I start?” And
my dog looks up from her water dish and says, “I hate to encroach on your
‘artistic space’ ‘cuz I know you're like ‘in-the-zone’ or whatever, but if you
really want my advice, here it is,” and then my dog says, “Poet, breathe now –
because it’s the last thing you’ll ever do for yourself. Poet, breathe now
because there’s a fire inside you that needs oxygen to burn, and if you don’t
run out of breath, you’re gonna run out of time. Poet, breathe now because
once the spot gets packed you gotta save that air for screamin, your --
inhalation takes saviorisms to sky-highs you gotta go with the flowin’ of your
own voice. Poet, breathe now because once you spit, you won’t even need air,
you'll be rockin’ rhymes respiratory, you’ll breathe poetry, baby. You breathe
now, and you’ll never forget that breath. You got -- pulsasive passages
passing the mic and hot hallelujahs when verses you write and your sin is your
savior your song is your life and your words are like wonders to wandering
fifes pipin’ ceremony: poets, you’re man, words your wife and your honeymoon
orbits around your love like metronomic metros keepin’ time to the heartbeat
of your heavenly drums – Poet, breathe now because you might have something to
say because peace might depend on your piece because you breathe and that air
might help your brain tell your heart to keep pumping one more cycle and that
blood might help your lips form one last word that hits the audience hard –
because we are all made from the same elements and we all breathe the same air
so celebrate our mutual recipes of existence by persisting to stay alive
ducking sageless luckless ages like intellectual hippies! When you take a
breath the universe rings out like circular beats – landing planets are
seraphim storms are spit – stars are soulcandles! and you breathe like chest
rebounds even when all hope seems lost our sounds pound mics like hope-stars
like “we’re still here” hollas! we make angels of our nightclubs, bards of our
bums, outlooks of our outcasts and infinity of our sums, we are the children
of empathy, the pathos of slums, we heal like helios like cyclical drums we
enlist life from listless and sometimes even get things done Poet, breathe now
because once you start your piece you can die behind that microphone and death
may be breathless but poetry’s deathless so breath be our savior eternal.
Poets, breathe once with me now. That’s one poem we all wrote.

