Comments on Sticks and Stones, by XKCD
From a Google+ conversation:
That is completely and absolutely untrue, unless you admit that anyone other than you has control over your feelings. Words have only as much damaging capacity as you want to give them.
Ignacio Torres Masdeu:
The exchange of power is part of many social contracts. But many times we give other people much more power than they deserve or need. This is specially true when family bonds are involved.
The thing with words is that they’re code to get to feelings. And your feelings, I wish they were just like write/read/execute permissions in a file system. Only not even that works that well.
You want to give people enough to work with —but also to show that you trust them, and because it’s comfier, you give them more than they actually need.
And sometimes, granularity is difficult.
And sometimes, people overstep their boundaries.
And sometimes, boundaries are not set right.
And sometimes, people would try to hack their way into hurting you.
You get stronger security, and you get less user-friendly.
Some would choose verbose mode, some will complain that you talk too much.
Some users will throw errors at you, some will stop responding at all.
Some are poorly documented, and some have crappy customer support.And sometimes… ping! pong! A connection happens.Handshakes. Permissions are requested and granted. Smiles. Information is exchanged. Backup plans work.Happiness gets multiplied. Logs are lovingly kept.And all you exchanged were words.(This goes on on the comments below, just in case Google pulls the plug of yet another service).
Los cambios vitales tristemente no son momentos llenos de música dramática de fondo y efectos de luz, sino pequeñas acciones aparentemente intrascendentes, que se convierten en manías, costumbres, y finalmente en tu nueva vida, no 2.0, sino 1.000001 (beta). Son cosas pequeñas que van acumulando valor, como una huchita. Y los pequeños cambios vitales que
Miré atrás y vi cerrarse las puertas de color verde hospital, verde colegio, verde militar. Detrás, dos de mis mejores amigos. Si me hubieras dicho que a ella no la volvería a ver nunca, no te habría creído.
Epílogo a «La Vaca»
Parece que, sin querer, escribí un relato autobiográfico de terror y drama durante el parto, y no he avisado: lo siento. ¿No quieres que te ocurra lo mismo que a mí? Haz tu plan de parto.
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