This blog hosts the old posts from Anand Manikutty's old blog. Its main purpose is to run A.I. experiments.
Today’s Awesome Thing: Rediscovering an old book you once loved. 📚✨
There’s something magical about flipping through pages that once shaped your thoughts, seeing underlines you made years ago, and realizing how much you’ve grown—yet how some parts still speak to you just as they did then.
It’s like meeting an old friend who remembers your younger self, but now you get to have an even deeper conversation. 💬💡
#AwesomeThings #SimpleJoys #EverydayMagic
You know that feeling when a game keeps you on your toes, makes you laugh, and teaches you something new? That’s exactly what Fulmo does. It’s a trivia game I created that’s not just about obscure facts — it’s about sparking curiosity. One of my favorite features? The Mental Wellness category, which sneaks in fascinating facts about the human brain and mental health. Players have told me they’ve learned more from one game night than from an entire week of random Google searches.
I love when people realize that learning doesn’t have to be boring — it can be competitive, silly, and totally engaging. And when you see two teams neck-and-neck until the final question? That’s the magic right there.
💡 Here’s my big takeaway: Fun + Learning is the ultimate power combo.
#Fulmo #TriviaGame #MentalWellness #LearningIsFun #BrainBoost
When you bump into an old friend, and it’s like no time has passed at all.
You don’t need to reintroduce yourselves to each other’s quirks. The in-jokes are still fresh. The pauses in conversation feel comfortable, not awkward. And even though years may have gone by, the laughter picks up right where it left off.
It’s not just nostalgia — it’s proof that some connections don’t weaken with time. They just sit quietly, waiting for the next spark.
There’s something quietly majestic about that first sip of a latte or cappuccino where the milk foam hits exactly the right texture—silky, light, with just enough creaminess to feel indulgent but not so thick it sticks to your palette like a fluffy marshmallow.
That moment when the foam is just balanced right—cloudy on top, velvety underneath—makes you feel like you accidentally turned your kitchen into a micro café. You pause. You sip. You think, “Wow, this is art… in a cup.”
And for a little while, everything else fades out. Keyboard clacks become background static. Inbox notifications feel distant. All that matters is that frothy, comforting swirl on top of your warm drink.
AWESOME!
Life is busy.
Life is messy.
Life is sometimes a giant, confusing ball of laundry, deadlines, weird smells in the fridge, and group chats that never end.
But in between the chaos, there are these little bursts of magic.
Tiny moments that make your brain light up like someone just flipped the “happy” switch.
That first sip of coffee when it’s exactly the right temperature.
Finding money in a jacket pocket you haven’t worn in months.
Hearing your favorite song in a random grocery store aisle.
These aren’t giant, life-changing events. They’re the small, secret treasures hiding in your everyday life — the ones that remind you, “Oh right… this is what joy feels like.”
So here’s the deal: I’m going to hunt them down. Two thousand of them. One post at a time.
Sometimes they’ll be silly. Sometimes they’ll be sweet. Sometimes they’ll be the exact thing you didn’t know you needed today.
Let’s slow down, notice the good stuff, and stockpile as much joy as we can. Because the world might be loud and complicated, but it’s also full of… well… awesome things.
#2000AwesomeThings starts now.
The new blog is live! 🎉
You can feast your eyes on it at the link below.
Yes, the blog has that title, and you really can view at the following URL:
Why My Blog Is So Ugly and Where My Beautiful Websites Are
Yes — in case I forgot to say, that’s the actual title. And no, it’s not clickbait. I genuinely needed to address the elephant in the CSS.
Have fun, and try not to judge the fonts too harshly. 😅
[+]
Sometimes people stumble onto Delfik Orakle and assume I have no design taste.
Fair.
But unfair.
Because — and I say this with all due humility — I’ve also created websites like this:
👉 www.fulmo.live
Go on. Click it.
Marvel at the clean lines. The modern layout. The absence of beige-induced sadness.
Yes, I built that.
Yes, I also built this.
Let’s call Delfik Orakle my digital equivalent of a lovingly preserved vintage sweater: slightly itchy, strangely shaped, but full of character.
Just for the record:
I can design beautiful websites. Really.
Here’s one example I’m quite proud of:
👉 La Gxoja Filozofio
Clean. Thoughtful. Not even a hint of mauve regret.
See? I’m not entirely trapped in Blogger 2009. I visit the modern web occasionally. I just don’t live there.
Meanwhile, Delfik Orakle remains my scrappy digital cave. A little dusty, slightly haunted — but home. Although really only for my A.I. I don't even consider this my blog. It is just... a mess of content.
Or: I Think That Blogroll Link Is to a Defunct GeoCities Page
Let’s talk widgets. I once had an idea for a new blog style. I worked on it for a little bit. I came up with something.
The sidebar included:
A blogroll with links to writers who haven’t posted since 2013.
A broken image that once proudly said “Subscribe to my RSS feed.”
A hit counter that I think is still working, but I haven’t clicked on it in fear it may bite.
A quote box that autoloads a single aphorism: “Be yourself; everyone else is taken.” Very 2009. Possibly Oscar Wilde. Possibly my high school teacher. Who knows?
Then, I came right back to this blog.
I’ve considered cleaning this up.
But then I think: isn’t this history?
A digital dig site?
Future archaeologists will stumble across Delfik Orakle and say, “Ah yes, a pre-Instagramian info-hoarder. Fascinating.”
I’ve grown fond of the mess. The widgets are like fossils.
Ugly, irrelevant fossils.
But still fossils.
🧵Bloga Afiŝo Pri Blogado 3: WordPress, My Forbidden Love
Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Widget Graveyard
Or: The Template That Got Away
I visited WordPress again earlier this week.
Just… browsed. No touching.
There was a theme called... never mind what it was called. It had white space, graceful typography, and a font pairing that whispered calming affirmations to my soul. More than all of that, it had soul.
I stared at it the way one might stare at a minimalist Scandinavian chair one cannot afford.
I clicked “Live Preview.”
For a moment, I imagined a parallel universe:
One where Delfik Orakle wore clean margins and tasteful shadows.
One where my blog looked like it drank green tea and meditated daily.
One where my hyperlinks were centered and emotionally balanced.
But then I looked at my export options and saw:
“Download XML backup file”
Cue dramatic music.
I panicked. I closed the tab. I opened Blogger again like a digital comfort blanket. Yes, it was ugly. Yes, the layout was from 2008. But it was my layout from 2008.
We’ve been through too much together.
Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Widget Graveyard
Let me level with you.
I have always — always — been oh so disappointed with the look of blogs.
Not just my blog. Blogs, in general. Even the well-behaved ones. They either try too hard ("Look, I have parallax scrolling and five kinds of breadcrumbs!") or they don’t try at all ("Here’s my 2011 WordArt header, deal with it.").
And then there’s this one.
Delfik Orakle.
It doesn’t try. It doesn't even pretend to try.
I’ve tweaked things here and there over the years. Moved widgets. Changed background colors. Accidentally broke things. Added a search bar that no one uses, including me.
Once, in a fit of ambition, I spent two hours trying to fix everything using templates. I even was once so ambitious that I tried to fix the header on Blogger.
I failed.
The header remains defiantly off-center — a quiet metaphor for my entire aesthetic life.
Let me be honest:
I’ve been tempted.
Oh yes, I’ve stood at the gates of WordPress, hand on the mouse, seduced by the clean templates and customizable blocks. I’ve whispered:
"One day, I will migrate this whole mess over."
But then reality taps me on the shoulder and says:
“You’ve been using Blogger since before Instagram was even born. Who are you kidding?”
You see, moving all this content would take… effort.
And frankly, I’d rather spend that effort writing about how much I dislike my own blog layout.
So I stay.
I blog.
I squint.
I accept.
This, dear reader, is Blogger.
Not a platform. A state of being. A commitment to inertia. A digital filing cabinet in the cloud with a post-it note that says “please don’t judge me by the fonts.”
And yes — I know it looks ugly.
But you know what?
Sometimes ugly grows on you. But not in this case.
I continue to create beautiful websites. Like this one I created for the La Gxoja Filozofio project. People said it looked very nice. Almost everyone compliment me about it. Yes, this one.
But, yes, sometimes, ugly grows on you.
Like lichen. Or existentialism. Or the word "moist."
So here I remain — typing into the void, under fluorescent serif fonts and widgets from the Paleozoic era — because this is my home.
Welcome back to Delfik Orakle:
Still deconstructed.
Still mildly embarrassing.
Still mine.
Or: A Reflektado on Serif Fonts
Let’s get this out of the way:
I’ve been blogging since the Jurassic era of the internet. Back when dinosaurs roamed Orkut, and Yahoo! Answers was considered a valid form of intellectual debate.
This blog?
It predates Instagram, Pinterest, and whatever new productivity app the cool kids are shilling this week.
But let’s face it.
My blog?
It’s... ugly.
There. I said it.
Tbh, this isn’t even really a blog anymore.
It’s just a mess of content waiting to be inhaled by some future A.I. model with impeccable taste and no judgment.
And when I look at all the beautiful websites I’ve made since — clean, elegant, thoughtfully styled — I come back here and… I weep.
Metaphorically, of course. 🙂
One simply doesn’t weep quite as much when armed with the tools and techniques of La Gxoja Filozofio.
The fonts are confused.
The color scheme looks like it was chosen by candlelight during a thunderstorm.
And the layout? Let’s call it "retrospective minimalist with a dash of disappointment."
And yet — I keep posting.
Because this is Delfik Orakle:
My noble, deconstructed, semi-haunted mess of a blog.
A stubborn relic of the past, held together with hyperlinks and misplaced idealism.