Middle name’s The.
So, can we call reaping what you sew getting “Charlie Kirked” now? Watching the media and Trump already canonizing this guy as a martyr is sickening. Seriously. “Oh… he got young people into politics… he was a cultural icon… what a tragedy…” Like, never mind that this piece of trash was just another bigoted mouthpiece for the establishment literally poisoning America. I don’t have any sympathy at all for him or the rest of his ilk. Fuck 'em all but six.
Maybe I can do some projects around the house… (two weeks later after building new furniture and reorganizing everything) Jesus, I’m exhausted… maybe I should paint.
On May 25, 1953 the Grable test under Operation Upshot Knothole fired the W9 nuclear artillery shell over 6 miles downrange at Frenchman’s Flat detonating at 15 kilotons. The artillery shell weighed roughly 803 lbs. This was 1950’s technology that could still fit in the back of a pickup truck and level a city. I’m sure they’re a lot lighter and a lot more powerful today. So, yes. If we could do it in '53 we could definitely do it today, but with orders of magnitude more destructive force and likely lighter weight.
Edit: I did some more digging. For instance, the W88 warhead aboard MIRV’s on nuclear subs today have an explosive force of 475 kilotons with a mean average weight of 400 lbs for comparison. Though, most of that weight is probably shielding for reentry, so you could probably cut it back significantly if you’re just putting it in a car trunk.
Lol. So apparently I had the Bot Account option switched on under my user profile. I don’t remember checking it, but apparently that’s something you can do
Weird. I have no idea why that’s on there.
I recommend the new series. It’s a bit more adult. It’s kind of more grown up just like the kids that watched the original are more grown up so far. I’m 5 episodes in and it’s solid. Still retains that same frenetic spirit.
One of the new episodes of Gumball has the answer to this. I never thought I’d see a kids show so blatantly just say it… EAT. THE. RICH.
A moth goes into a podiatrist’s office, and the podiatrist’s office says, “What seems to be the problem, moth?”
The moth says “What’s the problem? Where do I begin, man? I go to work for Gregory Illinivich, and all day long I work. Honestly doc, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t even know if Gregory Illinivich knows. He only knows that he has power over me, and that seems to bring him happiness. But I don’t know, I wake up in a malaise, and I walk here and there… at night I…I sometimes wake up and I turn to some old lady in my bed that’s on my arm. A lady that I once loved, doc. I don’t know where to turn to. My youngest, Alexendria, she fell in the…in the cold of last year. The cold took her down, as it did many of us. And my other boy, and this is the hardest pill to swallow, doc. My other boy, Gregarro Ivinalititavitch… I no longer love him. As much as it pains me to say, when I look in his eyes, all I see is the same cowardice that I… that I catch when I take a glimpse of my own face in the mirror. If only I wasn’t such a coward, then perhaps…perhaps I could bring myself to reach over to that cocked and loaded gun that lays on the bedside behind me and end this hellish facade once and for all…Doc, sometimes I feel like a spider, even though I’m a moth, just barely hanging on to my web with an everlasting fire underneath me. I’m not feeling good. And so the doctor says, “Moth, man, you’re troubled. But you should be seeing a psychiatrist. Why on earth did you come here?”
And the moth says, “‘Cause the light was on."
-Norm Macdonald
I remember when my front page was nothing but r/changemyview for like a week and I just unsubscribed from the subreddit completely because some of the questions and the amount of hits felt like something fucky was going on. Guess I was right.
It was around the time that game L.A. Noir first came out. I ended up getting really sick with the flu and I was having these really vivid dreams where I was a detective investigating gruesome crime scenes and questioning suspects.
Anyways, my girlfriend at the time worked a lot of odd hours and she had a late shift on one of the days I was sick. So I crawled in bed around 6 or 7 pm hoping I’d get to see her and be feeling a bit better when she got home at 11. I’m exhausted so I immediately fall asleep.
So, I end up having another detective dream where I’m going over this murder scene where this lady was butchered in her kitchen. It’s even in black and white. I’m gathering evidence, questioning the neighbors and other passers by and talking with my partner who reminded me of Robert Stack from Unsolved Mysteries.
While all this is going on I start hearing someone calling my name. Real light and slow like it’s far away. At this point I feel like I’m obsessed with the case and really closing in on a suspect. My partner and I stop to take a smoke break and go over some ideas when I hear my name called again only louder. At this point it’s been escalating louder, closer, and clearer for what seemed like an hour.
I look at my partner and he’s reacting as if he heard it. So I ask him if the stress of the case was cracking me up or if he’d heard someone calling my name too. He just kinda wryly smiles as he looks down stamping out his cigarette under his polished black leather shoe and then just sort of chuckles to himself. He says, “Yeah… I heard it… I guess we’ll have to finish the case some other time.”
I start to argue with him asking him what he means. We can’t stop now… we’re getting too close to an answer! That’s when he finally lifts his head, sort of tips his brimmed hat back, and looks me dead in the eye as he puts his hand on my shoulder. We stand there in silence for a second when we hear someone call my name again only louder and closer this time. That’s when he squeezed my shoulder and calmly yet sternly tells me “None of this matters, none of this is real… It’s time for you to wake up now.”
I instantly shot up wide awake. It felt like I was pulled back into reality, like a rope literally tanked me upright in bed. Now, I’m sitting there just heavily breathing and sweating bullets when my girlfriend walked in and asked me how I was feeling and that she’d been trying to wake me up for like 5 minutes because she’s gotten some soup and crackers ready for me to try and eat.
The whole experience was just so odd I couldn’t shake it for like a week. She’d been the one calling me but that 5 minutes in dream time felt so much longer. Also, it felt surreal how my partner seemed to have real agency and how it all felt so real.
In the end, I never ended up having another detective dream or finishing the case. It’s like the facade of the dream world was shattered in that moment and my partner was kind of saying goodbye. I don’t know why I dreamed of a good man, friend , and partner like Stanford McCallister but I still wish I could thank him for waking me up.
So yesterday was the 9/11 anniversary. There was also a school shooting on the same day this piece of human garbage was rightfully shot in the jugular. I read and scour the news every day and use Google News as an aggregator. So does my wife. You had to scroll down about 10-15 stories to even get to the school shooting, and I swear… I didn’t see much coverage about 9/11 at all. Not like they usually do every year. But here we are with Charlie Kirk’s stupid fucking face plastered everywhere as if he is someone to be admired. 9/11 and the aftermath of the war on terror DESTROYED this country. As far as I am concerned, the terrorists fucking won. All progress made up to that point began to faulter and collapse as the divisions between people beating the drums of war in that time and those that didn’t want to necessarily go to war or a multifront full scale war grew further and further. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back leading us to now, where a bigoted, misogynistic, homophobic, piece of shit like Charlie Kirk even makes the fucking headlines. What a fucking time to be alive.