From 4203301112c6afda9528cf2da4f6ac99696f9cb0 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: NN Solex Date: Mon, 1 May 2023 22:59:40 +0300 Subject: [PATCH] geo.js fix --- web/content/tags/ein_hod_04.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_05.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_06.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_07.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_08.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_09.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_10.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_11.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_12.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_13.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_14.md | 5 + web/content/tags/ein_hod_15.md | 5 + web/nfc-theme/static/geo.js | 12 ++- web/nfc-theme/templates/archives.html | 7 +- web/nfc-theme/templates/article.html | 2 +- web/nfc-theme/templates/category.html | 2 + web/output/journal-entry-10/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-11/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-12/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-13/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-14/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-15/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-4/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-5/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-6/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-7/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-8/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/journal-entry-9/index.html | 20 ++++ web/output/svbf5c4nwkr/index.html | 2 +- web/output/svbfh0cc5fp/index.html | 2 +- web/output/svbfh0geqrx/index.html | 2 +- web/output/svbfh1049ck/index.html | 2 +- web/output/tags/index.html | 108 +++++++++++++++++++++ web/output/tags/list.html | 128 +++++++++++++++++++++++-- web/output/theme/geo.js | 12 ++- 35 files changed, 556 insertions(+), 23 deletions(-) create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_04.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_05.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_06.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_07.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_08.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_09.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_10.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_11.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_12.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_13.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_14.md create mode 100644 web/content/tags/ein_hod_15.md create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-10/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-11/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-12/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-13/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-14/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-15/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-4/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-5/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-6/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-7/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-8/index.html create mode 100644 web/output/journal-entry-9/index.html diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_04.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_04.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7f0297 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_04.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 4 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +The festival of the Golden Calf is approaching, and the whole town is buzzing with anticipation. People are putting up decorations and practicing music for the big day. I can feel the excitement building, but I'm not sure what to expect. The cultists seem to be especially fervent this year, and they've been constructing an elaborate shrine in the town square. I can't help but wonder what it means for the town and its people. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_05.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_05.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc28598 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_05.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 5 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +Last night I had a nightmare about a donkey with blue eyes. In the dream, he was leading me through a maze of underground caves, but every time I looked back, the tunnels had shifted and I couldn't find my way back. Suddenly, I woke up with a start, convinced that someone or something was in my room. But when I turned on the light, there was nothing there. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_06.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_06.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..079fb5b --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_06.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 6 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +I met Sunday today, and he's a strange fellow. He's fascinated by musical machines and their ability to manipulate reality. He spoke about how music can influence the world and change the way we perceive things. Although I couldn't follow everything he said, I found myself captivated by his words. There's something odd about him, though. I can't help feeling like he's not entirely human. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_07.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_07.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f8df05 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_07.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 7 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +I ventured deep into one of the caves that dot this place. Its twisting tunnels and cavernous halls seem to have no end, and I feel like I've been wandering for hours. The musty air is thick with dust and the scent of damp earth, and the walls are slick with moss and lichen. It's as if the very rocks themselves are alive and breathing. As I explored further, I heard strange echoes and whispers, and the sound of footsteps coming from far away. I'm starting to wonder if I'm the only one down here, or if something else is lurking in the darkness. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_08.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_08.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8103915 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_08.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 8 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +I met a man today who calls himself the Blue-Eyed Donkey. He was cooking an omelet with a pigeon's egg on a British kerosene stove. He ate it with gusto, but he refused to speak to me. I could see the fear in his eyes. It's strange how guarded some people are in this town. The people here are peculiar. They act in mysterious ways, like they're hiding something. It's unsettling, but also intriguing. I can't help but wonder what secrets this place holds. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_09.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_09.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30d0958 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_09.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 9 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +As I delve deeper into the world of Dada, I can't help but notice the striking similarities between the movement and the strange occurrences in this town. The absurdity and chaos, the rejection of societal norms and values, the questioning of reality itself -- all of it seems to be reflected in the bizarre events that I've witnessed. It's almost as if the Dadaists were prophesying what was to come. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that there's something deeper, something more sinister at play. Is it possible that this is all part of a grand scheme, orchestrated by some unseen force? The more I learn, I'm starting to wonder if there's more to this than just my imagination. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_10.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_10.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..367201b --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_10.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 10 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +The tunnels beckon me, their twisted paths leading deeper into the heart of the mountain. I know that I must follow, that the answers I seek are waiting for me in the darkness. The walls seem to whisper secrets, ancient knowledge that has been lost to time. I feel as though I am on the verge of a great discovery. I have seen things that cannot be explained, visions of a world beyond our own. The lines between reality and fantasy have become blurred, and I am not sure which is which anymore. But I do not fear the unknown, for I know that I am on the right path. The music guides me, and I will follow it wherever it leads. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_11.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_11.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5db7beb --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_11.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 11 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +As I fell asleep last night, the fragrance of the wildflowers filled my senses, and I found myself wandering in a beautiful valley full of olive trees. The sun was setting, casting the sky in hues of orange and red. As I wandered between the trees, I heard a faint tinkling sound, and soon it grew louder, forming a symphony of music. Suddenly, I was surrounded by strange mechanical creatures, their limbs moving in perfect sync with the melody. The music was like nothing I had ever heard before, ethereal and otherworldly. When I woke up, I felt like I had just returned from a far-off land. The music was still ringing in my ears, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that it was calling out to me. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_12.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_12.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ffef02b --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_12.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 12 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +The paranoia is really starting to set in. I can't trust anyone, not even myself. I keep having these vivid nightmares and I'm starting to lose track of what's real and what's just my imagination. I'm afraid that if I stay here much longer, I'll never be able to leave. I've decided to leave the village tomorrow. I don't care if I never figure out what's really going on here. I just want to get as far away from this place as possible. I packed my bags this afternoon, and when I opened my door to leave, I found a blue-eyed donkey standing outside. It just stared at me with those piercing blue eyes... \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_13.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_13.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8d76ef --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_13.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 13 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +The Prophet's cave holds the key to unlocking the mysteries of this land. I can feel his presence all around me, a guiding force that leads me closer to my goal. The whispers of the wind seem to carry his words, and I know that I am on the right path. It was as if the very cave itself was a musical instrument, waiting to be played. The Prophet's words echoed off the walls like a symphony, and I couldn't help but feel like I was part of his grand composition. It was a tune that I couldn't get out of my head, a melody that danced through the caves and into my soul. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_14.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_14.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cca6afa --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_14.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 14 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +I delved deep into the thorn-laden thicket, my mind ablaze with the key that glimmered in my hand. The path twisted and turned like a demented serpent, the air grew thick and syrupy, like molasses infused with the scent of ancient secrets. And then, there he was. Sunday, the prophet of madness, stood before me, surrounded by his infernal machines and writhing in a fevered frenzy. I could feel the music coursing through my veins, like a thousand serpents uncoiling in a never-ending dance. It spoke to me in tongues unknown, and I felt my mind unraveling like a ball of yarn caught in a hurricane. And then, in a blinding flash of light and sound, the world was reborn in a symphony of chaos and destruction. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/content/tags/ein_hod_15.md b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_15.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..afd138a --- /dev/null +++ b/web/content/tags/ein_hod_15.md @@ -0,0 +1,5 @@ +Title: Journal Entry 15 +Date: 2023-04-12 +Category: Blue Eyed Donkey + +I need to leave this place, but I fear I won't make it out alive. They are everywhere, and I don't know who I can trust. Even my own mind feels like it's turning against me, taunting me with visions of things I can't explain. I need to find a way out, but it feels like I'm trapped in a nightmare. I must leave. I must escape. I must run. I must forget. I must burn this journal. I must burn this memory. I must burn this music. I must burn this reality. I must burn myself. I must be reborn. I must be free. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/nfc-theme/static/geo.js b/web/nfc-theme/static/geo.js index bac5889..c074e1f 100644 --- a/web/nfc-theme/static/geo.js +++ b/web/nfc-theme/static/geo.js @@ -4,12 +4,16 @@ const ios = ua.indexOf("ios") > -1; const windows = ua.indexOf("windows") > -1; const linux = ua.indexOf("linux") > -1; const mac = ua.indexOf("macos") > -1; -var hashlinks = document.querySelectorAll(".geo a"); +var hashlinks = document.querySelectorAll('[href*="geo:"]'); var hasharray = [...hashlinks]; if ( hasharray.length > 0 ) { hasharray.forEach(hashlink => { - if ( windows || mac || linux ) hashlink.href = "https://maps.google.com/?q=" + hashlink.getAttribute("latlon"); - else if ( android ) hashlink.href = "geo:0,0?q=" + hashlink.getAttribute("latlon"); - else if ( ios ) hashlink.href = "http://maps.apple.com/?ll=" + hashlink.getAttribute("latlon") + "&q=" + hashlink.innerHTML; + const geolink = hashlink.getAttribute("href").match(/(-?\d+(\.\d+)?),\s*(-?\d+(\.\d+)?)/g); + var latlon; + if ( geolink.length > 1 && geolink[0] == '0,0') latlon = geolink[1]; + else latlon = geolink[0]; + if ( windows || mac || linux ) hashlink.href = "https://maps.google.com/?q=" + latlon; + else if ( android ) hashlink.href = "geo:0,0?q=" + latlon; + else if ( ios ) hashlink.href = "http://maps.apple.com/?ll=" + latlon + "&q=" + hashlink.innerHTML; }); } \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/nfc-theme/templates/archives.html b/web/nfc-theme/templates/archives.html index 8200ec8..0d5e502 100644 --- a/web/nfc-theme/templates/archives.html +++ b/web/nfc-theme/templates/archives.html @@ -9,9 +9,12 @@

- {{ article.category }}: {{ article.title }} + {{ article.category }}: {{ article.title }} + {% if article.metadata['geohash'] %} + [{{ article.metadata['geohash'] }}] + {% endif %}

- {{ article.summary }} +
{% endfor %} diff --git a/web/nfc-theme/templates/article.html b/web/nfc-theme/templates/article.html index 3827261..fdae598 100644 --- a/web/nfc-theme/templates/article.html +++ b/web/nfc-theme/templates/article.html @@ -4,7 +4,7 @@
{{ article.content }} {% if article.metadata.geohash %} - NFC + Map {% endif %}
diff --git a/web/nfc-theme/templates/category.html b/web/nfc-theme/templates/category.html index 01859d7..e717b8d 100644 --- a/web/nfc-theme/templates/category.html +++ b/web/nfc-theme/templates/category.html @@ -24,6 +24,7 @@ "id" : "{{ category.slug }}", "features": [ {% for article in articles_page.object_list %} + {% if article.metadata['lat'] and article.metadata['lon'] %} { "type": "Feature", "id": "{{ article.slug }}", @@ -35,6 +36,7 @@ "title": "{{ article.title }}" }, }, + {% endif %} {% endfor %} ] }; diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-10/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-10/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0901b63 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-10/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

The tunnels beckon me, their twisted paths leading deeper into the heart of the mountain. I know that I must follow, that the answers I seek are waiting for me in the darkness. The walls seem to whisper secrets, ancient knowledge that has been lost to time. I feel as though I am on the verge of a great discovery. I have seen things that cannot be explained, visions of a world beyond our own. The lines between reality and fantasy have become blurred, and I am not sure which is which anymore. But I do not fear the unknown, for I know that I am on the right path. The music guides me, and I will follow it wherever it leads.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-11/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-11/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a235364 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-11/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

As I fell asleep last night, the fragrance of the wildflowers filled my senses, and I found myself wandering in a beautiful valley full of olive trees. The sun was setting, casting the sky in hues of orange and red. As I wandered between the trees, I heard a faint tinkling sound, and soon it grew louder, forming a symphony of music. Suddenly, I was surrounded by strange mechanical creatures, their limbs moving in perfect sync with the melody. The music was like nothing I had ever heard before, ethereal and otherworldly. When I woke up, I felt like I had just returned from a far-off land. The music was still ringing in my ears, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that it was calling out to me.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-12/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-12/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b6c98f --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-12/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

The paranoia is really starting to set in. I can't trust anyone, not even myself. I keep having these vivid nightmares and I'm starting to lose track of what's real and what's just my imagination. I'm afraid that if I stay here much longer, I'll never be able to leave. I've decided to leave the village tomorrow. I don't care if I never figure out what's really going on here. I just want to get as far away from this place as possible. I packed my bags this afternoon, and when I opened my door to leave, I found a blue-eyed donkey standing outside. It just stared at me with those piercing blue eyes...

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-13/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-13/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..96dd2f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-13/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

The Prophet's cave holds the key to unlocking the mysteries of this land. I can feel his presence all around me, a guiding force that leads me closer to my goal. The whispers of the wind seem to carry his words, and I know that I am on the right path. It was as if the very cave itself was a musical instrument, waiting to be played. The Prophet's words echoed off the walls like a symphony, and I couldn't help but feel like I was part of his grand composition. It was a tune that I couldn't get out of my head, a melody that danced through the caves and into my soul.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-14/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-14/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7687374 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-14/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

I delved deep into the thorn-laden thicket, my mind ablaze with the key that glimmered in my hand. The path twisted and turned like a demented serpent, the air grew thick and syrupy, like molasses infused with the scent of ancient secrets. And then, there he was. Sunday, the prophet of madness, stood before me, surrounded by his infernal machines and writhing in a fevered frenzy. I could feel the music coursing through my veins, like a thousand serpents uncoiling in a never-ending dance. It spoke to me in tongues unknown, and I felt my mind unraveling like a ball of yarn caught in a hurricane. And then, in a blinding flash of light and sound, the world was reborn in a symphony of chaos and destruction.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-15/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-15/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..33cc87b --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-15/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

I need to leave this place, but I fear I won't make it out alive. They are everywhere, and I don't know who I can trust. Even my own mind feels like it's turning against me, taunting me with visions of things I can't explain. I need to find a way out, but it feels like I'm trapped in a nightmare. I must leave. I must escape. I must run. I must forget. I must burn this journal. I must burn this memory. I must burn this music. I must burn this reality. I must burn myself. I must be reborn. I must be free.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-4/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-4/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a27aa1 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-4/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

The festival of the Golden Calf is approaching, and the whole town is buzzing with anticipation. People are putting up decorations and practicing music for the big day. I can feel the excitement building, but I'm not sure what to expect. The cultists seem to be especially fervent this year, and they've been constructing an elaborate shrine in the town square. I can't help but wonder what it means for the town and its people.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-5/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-5/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7952304 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-5/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

Last night I had a nightmare about a donkey with blue eyes. In the dream, he was leading me through a maze of underground caves, but every time I looked back, the tunnels had shifted and I couldn't find my way back. Suddenly, I woke up with a start, convinced that someone or something was in my room. But when I turned on the light, there was nothing there. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-6/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-6/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..076dc55 --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-6/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

I met Sunday today, and he's a strange fellow. He's fascinated by musical machines and their ability to manipulate reality. He spoke about how music can influence the world and change the way we perceive things. Although I couldn't follow everything he said, I found myself captivated by his words. There's something odd about him, though. I can't help feeling like he's not entirely human.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-7/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-7/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f52c62f --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-7/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

I ventured deep into one of the caves that dot this place. Its twisting tunnels and cavernous halls seem to have no end, and I feel like I've been wandering for hours. The musty air is thick with dust and the scent of damp earth, and the walls are slick with moss and lichen. It's as if the very rocks themselves are alive and breathing. As I explored further, I heard strange echoes and whispers, and the sound of footsteps coming from far away. I'm starting to wonder if I'm the only one down here, or if something else is lurking in the darkness.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-8/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-8/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8e1a1e --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-8/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

I met a man today who calls himself the Blue-Eyed Donkey. He was cooking an omelet with a pigeon's egg on a British kerosene stove. He ate it with gusto, but he refused to speak to me. I could see the fear in his eyes. It's strange how guarded some people are in this town. The people here are peculiar. They act in mysterious ways, like they're hiding something. It's unsettling, but also intriguing. I can't help but wonder what secrets this place holds.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/journal-entry-9/index.html b/web/output/journal-entry-9/index.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4b374a --- /dev/null +++ b/web/output/journal-entry-9/index.html @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ + + + + + + + + + + +
+
+

As I delve deeper into the world of Dada, I can't help but notice the striking similarities between the movement and the strange occurrences in this town. The absurdity and chaos, the rejection of societal norms and values, the questioning of reality itself -- all of it seems to be reflected in the bizarre events that I've witnessed. It's almost as if the Dadaists were prophesying what was to come. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that there's something deeper, something more sinister at play. Is it possible that this is all part of a grand scheme, orchestrated by some unseen force? The more I learn, I'm starting to wonder if there's more to this than just my imagination.

+
+
+ + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/web/output/svbf5c4nwkr/index.html b/web/output/svbf5c4nwkr/index.html index 6f9c35a..aa308fc 100644 --- a/web/output/svbf5c4nwkr/index.html +++ b/web/output/svbf5c4nwkr/index.html @@ -11,7 +11,7 @@

As I wandered through the museum today, I stumbled upon a hidden room tucked away in a corner. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The air was heavy with the scent of wood and brass, and strange instruments and machines filled the room. Pipes and horns seemed to sprout from the walls like metallic vines, and the organs were unlike any I'd ever laid eyes on, with keyboards sprouting in every direction. As I explored further, I found boxes adorned with mysterious levers and knobs that seemed to emit a cacophony of otherworldly sounds. It was as though I had stumbled into the secret workshop of a mad scientist.

- NFC + Map
diff --git a/web/output/svbfh0cc5fp/index.html b/web/output/svbfh0cc5fp/index.html index ffbd6da..d64ec20 100644 --- a/web/output/svbfh0cc5fp/index.html +++ b/web/output/svbfh0cc5fp/index.html @@ -11,7 +11,7 @@

I spent the day exploring the town and stumbled upon an old, abandoned house. Inside, I found a collection of paintings that immediately caught my eye. They were unlike anything I had ever seen before, with bold colors and abstract shapes. I later learned that the artist who painted them was an Austrian painter who had worked as a traffic warden in the early days of the country. Her eccentricity was well-known among the locals, and it's said that she inspired Sunday, one of the founders of the town, in his own artistic pursuits. It's a shame that her work has been forgotten and left to decay in this abandoned house.

- NFC + Map
diff --git a/web/output/svbfh0geqrx/index.html b/web/output/svbfh0geqrx/index.html index 35ad58e..95a676f 100644 --- a/web/output/svbfh0geqrx/index.html +++ b/web/output/svbfh0geqrx/index.html @@ -11,7 +11,7 @@

As I wandered through the museum today, I stumbled upon a hidden room tucked away in a corner. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The air was heavy with the scent of wood and brass, and strange instruments and machines filled the room. Pipes and horns seemed to sprout from the walls like metallic vines, and the organs were unlike any I'd ever laid eyes on, with keyboards sprouting in every direction. As I explored further, I found boxes adorned with mysterious levers and knobs that seemed to emit a cacophony of otherworldly sounds. It was as though I had stumbled into the secret workshop of a mad scientist.

- NFC + Map
diff --git a/web/output/svbfh1049ck/index.html b/web/output/svbfh1049ck/index.html index 40e5a90..76a6646 100644 --- a/web/output/svbfh1049ck/index.html +++ b/web/output/svbfh1049ck/index.html @@ -11,7 +11,7 @@

I noticed a peculiar sensation in the air as soon as I arrived in town. It was as if an electric charge was coursing through the air beneath the pastoral tranquillity, making me nervous. I looked around, but there was no one to be found. The faint odor of decay lingered around me, mingled with the sweet fragrance of incense. The mix made me feel uneasy, like if I'd stepped into a strange, surreal dream.

- NFC + Map
diff --git a/web/output/tags/index.html b/web/output/tags/index.html index 8b7910e..783fa5f 100644 --- a/web/output/tags/index.html +++ b/web/output/tags/index.html @@ -20,6 +20,60 @@ +
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diff --git a/web/output/tags/list.html b/web/output/tags/list.html index c01a857..ae2ae2b 100644 --- a/web/output/tags/list.html +++ b/web/output/tags/list.html @@ -14,36 +14,148 @@ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + diff --git a/web/output/theme/geo.js b/web/output/theme/geo.js index bac5889..c074e1f 100644 --- a/web/output/theme/geo.js +++ b/web/output/theme/geo.js @@ -4,12 +4,16 @@ const ios = ua.indexOf("ios") > -1; const windows = ua.indexOf("windows") > -1; const linux = ua.indexOf("linux") > -1; const mac = ua.indexOf("macos") > -1; -var hashlinks = document.querySelectorAll(".geo a"); +var hashlinks = document.querySelectorAll('[href*="geo:"]'); var hasharray = [...hashlinks]; if ( hasharray.length > 0 ) { hasharray.forEach(hashlink => { - if ( windows || mac || linux ) hashlink.href = "https://maps.google.com/?q=" + hashlink.getAttribute("latlon"); - else if ( android ) hashlink.href = "geo:0,0?q=" + hashlink.getAttribute("latlon"); - else if ( ios ) hashlink.href = "http://maps.apple.com/?ll=" + hashlink.getAttribute("latlon") + "&q=" + hashlink.innerHTML; + const geolink = hashlink.getAttribute("href").match(/(-?\d+(\.\d+)?),\s*(-?\d+(\.\d+)?)/g); + var latlon; + if ( geolink.length > 1 && geolink[0] == '0,0') latlon = geolink[1]; + else latlon = geolink[0]; + if ( windows || mac || linux ) hashlink.href = "https://maps.google.com/?q=" + latlon; + else if ( android ) hashlink.href = "geo:0,0?q=" + latlon; + else if ( ios ) hashlink.href = "http://maps.apple.com/?ll=" + latlon + "&q=" + hashlink.innerHTML; }); } \ No newline at end of file