Well, now I want to see an artist’s rendition of a T. rex doing this:

Well, now I want to know if there’s a regular schedule to the Jupiter-Sun barycenter being in or outside of the Sun, and how we can schedule holidays around it.

Monolithic dome house! Been a fantasy of mine since college. Might be difficult to hang pictures on the walls, though.

“Foxes getting married”

I talked to a guy who had a master’s degree in philosophy. He told me he worked for an investment firm.

Me: What do you do there, convince investment bankers not to kill themselves?

Him: Yeah, pretty much.

Me: 😳

Your uncle.

How it feels when headlines celebrate that inflation is down:

Also:

Alexandra Daddario in the AMC show The Mayfair Witches.

She ostensibly plays a brilliant brain surgeon. She starts experiencing some spooky witch and demon-related goings on.

She meets up with a guy working for a paranormal research group. He tells her in no uncertain terms “Do not leave this magically-protected apartment. You are in great danger.” She agrees.

Five minutes later she walks out of the apartment onto the street. She immediately wanders into a New Orleans street party, is handed an open drink from a stranger, drinks it, and whoopsy daisy gets magically roofied into a demon-engineered hallucination of her dead mother.

Brilliant. Brain. Surgeon.

Katamari Damacy.

Na na, na na na na na, na na, na na na na na na…

Q: What do you call a doctor who is three sheets to the wind by mid-afternoon?

A: Doctor.

Proverbs 26:18-19

Like a madman who throws firebrands, arrows, and death, Is the man who deceives his neighbor, And says, “I was only joking!”

Anon:

Homophobes: “We can’t legalize gay marriage! The birth rate would collapse! If men could marry men, then what reasonable man would ever choose to marry a disgusting, weak, woman over a strong, virile, muscular, sweaty, musky, oily, maaaannnnnn…”

The rest of us: Dude. Bro. Dude.

I’ve actually learned to recognize when people expect me to finish a sentence for them and then just wait for them to finish it themselves.

Them: “Hi, I’m looking for a Stephen King book, and I was wondering if you could…”

Me: “…”

Them: “…” [meaningful look]

Me: “…” [blank questioning stare]

Them: “…help me find it?”

Me: “Oh, of course! It’s right this way.”

It’s a fun little game to play with conversational expectations.

My uncle was a small-herd fairy farmer my entire life. Never had more than a couple dozen cows at a time, always knew all of them by name. He kept on getting squeezed out by larger and larger operations. He eventually went grass-fed organic to try and stay competitive. Then he told me that the large operations have organic mini-farms that they operate. The cows there are kept organic… but only so long as they remain in perfect health. The instant one gets sick, she gets moved over to the bigger factory operation and is pumped full of all the antibiotics that all the rest are kept on.

So, while my uncle is keeping a small herd and who has both financial and moral reasons for wanting to maintain his cows that way, a large factory farm can maintain a nominal organic operation, undercutting small fries like my uncle, but actually only keeping their cows organic for exactly as long as it’s convenient, and not a moment longer.

My uncle is retired now, but it hurt me to hear him tell that story. We ought to care about small family farms, but we keep letting capitalist “efficiency” turn every aspect of life on Earth into a market-optimized hellscape.

I’m pretty sure they just had us brute-force memorize all of the single digit additions and multiplications in grade school. Seemed to work out okay for me.

“Mr. Franklin, of what use is this hot air balloon contraption?”

“You can take ladies up in it with a bottle of wine and a blanket and you know, they can’t refuse, because of the implication. Think about it. She’s floating up in the middle of the sky with some dude she barely knows. You know, she looks around, and what does she see? Nothing but open air. 'Ahhhh! There’s nowhere for me to run. What am I gonna do, say ‘no?’”