Life on an island applies pressure to compromise. Lemmy emerged comprised of those who wanted out specifically not to have to compromise. I think the federation concept will serve to reinforce isolated thought bubbles, and a platform migratory pattern will emerge as people crave a return to society and then an escape to their own private beaches. There’s a maturing period to grow through for sure, though.

Disagreement? In this echo chamber?? No nuance, netizen! Back in line!

I roast seasoned chickpeas for snacking like that. I’ll top pan fried chickpeas with leftover rice and carrot then let those steam up with the lid on. It helps contain popping beans too lol

Those sweet potatoes are close to Grandma Appalachia’s traditional preparation that she got from a recipe her Irish aunt tore out of a magazine back in the 70s, but hers included a hoppy beer to balance the hot sauce

I’m not blaming, I don’t think the reporting is horny either. The concept is fascinating, if anything I’m horny for more of a middle ground between fluff and the original paper.

What’s the “intimate detail”? The novelty I got here was the revelation of three instead of two proteins involved in this binding site. Is that “the” binding between the egg and sperm or is it a secondary/support linkage?

Squeamish

At first I saw something silhouetted on a card table. Then Action entered the story and I had to choose an adventure after being asked what happened.

I figured how it rolls might depend on who pushed it, and I already knew that. Kevin. Why he did it was less clear. Muscle memory placed us at a table in the canteen. Sitting across from him on any ordinary day, some rolled up piece of napkin or a wad of garbage paper might present itself as a projectile to reach him across the plates and glass between us.

Tonight we were in my kitchen, together there for the first time. I’d moved the table into the corner with both leaves open to make extra space for snacks for the party. We pushed the pretzels and empties aside and sat facing each other off the edge of the table, knees nearly interlocked.

My chin was on my hand and my heart was on the ceiling. We were laughing about something when I noticed the toy baseball on the table. The stairs creaked and the sound of background chatter crept in like a breeze that chilled my spine. He flicked the ball, and it rolled fast off the edge then fell to the floor with a flat thud.

The phone on the wall behind him rang, and I clicked to review the test questions.

So You Thought You Were Lying Low in a Space Forged by an Exodus from Society to Bury your Shoebox of Fake IDs but Nuance Defied Expectation, a Stone’s Tale

anywhere you can see a map

I think I need a rewatch with this new perspective. I saw Enlightenment to Romanticism through a lens of British stuffiness that gave the veneer of “light hearted”, but Ow My Balls makes a little more sense with a layer of mid-Atlantic mud. I already got Boob Comedies from Ren and Stimpy through Family Guy. What I want is hero stories to save Atlas, but the scornful judgment in the movie’s framing is a force of Christian conservatism trapping him between two worlds.

I’m on board with the complementarity objective, but dividing society by collar color is a means for distributing things less. Time barriers reinforce worker segmentation by industry. Different rituals and religious traditions evolve on either side, and Romeo and Juliet are lost in their respective crowds. Convinced their problem is too much work, Four Day Workweek Jesus arrives to champion a revolution towards a three day week, and Four Day Workweek Satan points out that arranging and organizing other people’s lives (for free!) has always been in support of the same capitalists that the bleeding heart Christians seem so upset about.

There’s a lot of optimism in this thread, so if I may imagine Sophie kicking the dust instead of choosing…

Assuming such a thing did happen it’d only happen for a subset of the population, which would then be divided such that one group gets Monday and the other gets Friday while service workers get two more nights of labor.

Here’s a random paranoid tangent before lunch! I was reading recently about the evolution of theater in England over a hundred years from ~1550-1650. Elizabeth ruled during the first part of that interval, and Shakespeare wrote. His plays included perspectives from wide slices of society and were performed for royalty and commoners alike. Elizabeth died and private theatrical commissions began to outgrow public theater, which according to wikipedia “sustained themselves on the accumulated works of the previous decades”.

Starting in 1642 theaters were closed entirely by act of a Puritanical Parliament. That ban lasted 18 years and once the audience was Quite Thirsty, the English Restoration restored theater abstractly and filled it with bawdy raunch.

Yada yada, Disney then hired a crew of weepy Christian writers in the 20th century to repackage folk tales into Little Mermaid and Iron Man, which seems parallel enough to Shakespeare retelling Ovid. Film flourished, and in the early days of broadcast TV anybody could star in their own very own program. The Writers were on the brink of delivering us Heroes, but they up and left before they could save the cheerleader.

Now this age of regurgitated, computer animated-and-written, crowdsource produced art seems familiar, too. We’re filling the gaps with what we know, and the Appalachians wielding the pen are finding gaps they didn’t know were there. It’s odd being here, but my point is that if we are stuck in a loop then there’s the potential that on the horizon is a period of Hollywood producing a bunch of light hearted Boob Comedies.

This post is creating company culture by its promotion of ditching coworkers and seeking validation through memes. Disassociation is the problem!

moralizing “diminishing relationships to promote etc” sounds like ayn-rand-libertarian-christian-nationalist-trumper lizard folk valuing the ability to say horrible things to people then hoist blame on them for corrupting society while camouflaged behind a veil of repentant self-exile

deleted by creator

I mentally replaced cars with boats recently and it’s been inducing nautical terminology everywhere I speak. Cap’n and Crew sounds great for this usage, it feels honest without the shock of great grandpa’s heavyweight authoritarianism. I usually wind up stepping down to Spongebob or Pirates to filter out seriousness too, as long as the packet arrives and the replicas are jolly.

There’s bacteria that grow in the roots of legumes that are capable of capturing gaseous nitrogen. That nitrogen makes its way to the soil, where the trees can suck it up to produce protein, like sunflower seeds. I eat those and by the time I urinate and die the nitrogen has been so concentrated within me that I burn a small hole in the ground for the fungus, sun, and time to decay and heal.

If I could photosynthesize the carbs needed to bootstrap this operation I would. If I could plant a piece of myself and feed it rainwater and atmospheric nitrogen to grow a steak I would. If I could leave behind shelter I wood.

all your time learing to configure an abstraction layer instead of interfacing with the real underlying tooling

Bro it’s state machines all the way down and expressions up top