You inspired me
I do not fear the motion of my feet.
Though every step be toward the final bourn,
I see no path to orderly retreat.
The energy assigned in brief to me
No art preserves, no science can reform.
And so I boldly choose what is to be
The range and purpose of my tiny mete.
I will not, while I can, myself pre-mourn,
But rage, rage against the rising of the heat.
Pfft the absolute human hubris to hold up these entropic sleight-of-hand tricks as impressive. Nature abhors a refrigerator. Heaters are the ultimate power in the universe.
Are you inviting me to a money fight? I do love those. Let’s both put in ludicrous bids on some AI company and fight over ownership to pump it’s value in the market, I haven’t done one of those in months. Winner buys the next yacht we sink in the Bermuda Triangle to appease the Elder Ones, Respect upon their Unknowable Names. If only the poor knew how hard we worked to prevent this puny planet from being eaten by elder demons, they would be grateful.
Question: would I have to give up my exploitative companies that fuel my bid to become the first King of Internet? Because that’s kind of a dealbreaker for me.
The Post Office is secretly being controlled by the US Government. If you look at the actual laws of the US it allows the President to appoint someone called the Postmaster General who’s in charge of the whole thing.
I think it would be a pretty good prank to bring this up in a “favorite crazy conspiracy theory” conversation where all but one participant agrees that it’s a baseless conspiracy theory and see if the one other person insists that the Postmaster General Theory is real, or goes along with the crowd. But I really don’t think my friends are coordinated enough to pull it off.