argumate:

Concept: cuckinky men pressuring their wives to sleep with other men, wives going to spend the night with gal pals watching Buffy and drinking margaritas, returning home in the morning to tell stories of wild night with Paulo.

Pretty sure if Taylor Swift titled her next album Great Again my head would explode.

argumate:

kontextmaschine:

Pretty sure if Taylor Swift titled her next album Great Again my head would explode.

you single issue blogger you

I recognize my superiors, it’s a point of pride.

spacetwinks:

okay

student 1: why're you in animation school
student 2: so i can learn how to animate a sexy girafarig eating-
student 1: -eating a watermelon, whole, but with-
student 2: *nodding* -with the tail-head, yeah
student 1: *nodding* yeah same
student 2: same

nevver:

Filled with tomorrow, Carolyn Marks Blackwood

© Carolyn Marks Blackwood © Carolyn Marks Blackwood © Carolyn Marks Blackwood © Carolyn Marks Blackwood © Carolyn Marks Blackwood © Carolyn Marks Blackwood © Carolyn Marks Blackwood

I like and endorse charming rogues, you should too, to carve an exemption for when they fool you is unprincipled and churlish.

antinegationism:

antinegationism:

Listen the thing about the argument that AI is dangerous because we can’t control it is that it’s not necessarily wrong it’s just that it kind of distracts from the more immediate concern of all of the ways AI could be dangerous because we can control it.

Not that there’s much purpose to asking these questions. I think collectively we as a society have already sort of decided that, despite all of the ways things could go horribly wrong, AIs are just way too cool and sci-fi to not make.

Today on a jukebox I learned that Andrew Jackson Jihad’s Zombie by the Cranberries was not actually a cover of The Cranberries’ Zombie.

Just in this bar discovered Naked & Afraid, the show where they take a buff prepper dude and a hippie nature girl and dump them in the middle of the jungle without clothes. Brilliant.

youzicha:

argumate:

was-a-mistake:

Locomotives used to be good, but now sucks

tell me about it!

Counterpoint:

Waiting to pay my tab, two drunks at the bar explaining supernovas to each other. They both already know what the other has to offer but it’s not bad, gamma rays and gravity wells and all.

Me: Roombas are nice but what I need is a fleet of tiny drones just constantly getting into little corners and getting all the debris. Maybe they could have stations built into the walls where they make new ones out of what they collect.
Also me: Ants. They are called ants, they show up for free, and for some reason you hate them.
Me: Huh.

fishmech:

Yo check out what I got today! It’s a book from the early 90s that attempts to list every person online with their email address, in the manner of a phone book. This was to be the first in series, but they never released a “1995″ edition much less a later one. Not sure if the free update mailings ever happened either.

Take a close look at the listing pages - you’ll see that they listed people with obviously fake names like “Im Not Iron MAN” as if Man was the last name.

This is close to peak web 1.0.

I was just like “why hasn’t anyone remade the Ron Paul ‘It’s Happening’ meme with Trump?” but after some digging I found one. It was animated and the flashing color lasers were giving me eyestrain and nausea so I won’t inflict it on you.

Remember when Tumblr’s thing was telling people to use epilepsy warnings? What was that, 3, 4 years ago?

Both my parents were epileptic as kids, my mom petite mal but my dad grand (I saw it happen once in my lifetime, creepy). Me never. They were worried about Nintendo but the excitement of that just gave me hives. (Srsly. My skin’s a weakness.)

All I got, and it’s faded with age, was a very faint aura sense (with far sub-migraine pressure around the temples and sinuses) and smell -> color synaesthesia, both of which were only prominent with exposure to chlorine at the pool or vapors at the gas station; I always volunteered to pump.

Remember when Tumblr’s thing was reblogging images with extensive descriptions of their contents in case blind people were watching?

It bugs me how the NYT refers to politicians as “Mr. McConnell”, “Mrs. Clinton”, instead of just by their last name like normal people.

(That’s saying nothing of “Ms. Warren". It hasn’t been the ‘70s for a while, stop trying to make Ms. happen, it’s not going to happen. And if she’s still trying to make it happen, don’t indulge her.)

At least it’s not as bad as The New Yorker spelling it “coöperate”, I endorse breaking arms for that.

The thing about an Ivy League education is without even intending you end up having contacts in all sorts of petty power centers, so you get peeks behind the weirdest damn curtains.

The same guy I noticed this through, in maybe 2007 or 2008 I noticed he was going to Peter Suderman’s housewarming, on which page Matt Yglesias and Ezra Klein and Megan McArdle (who wasn’t too long removed from blogging [terribly] as “Jane Galt”) chirpily inside-joked to each other about who was bringing the chips and the frisbee.

The mid-1980s were a weird time in rock politics when buff, angry, punchy sons of the DC imperial-industrial complex represented the leftist rearguard against a reactionary wave of California weirdos singing love ballads in heavy makeup, teased hair, and prom dresses.