Captain Aggravated

Nah I guess I’m gonna build shit until it’s time for a dose of buckshot.

Lemmings of Lemmy: What’s your blood type and eyeglass prescription?

I’ve been shaving with a DE razor for about 15 years now, and I haven’t found it any easier or harder to cut yourself with them than the modern “Mach 84 Spike TV Edition” cartridge razors.

I’m changing my vote in the Agora from “yes defederate” to "Hell fucking yes defederate.’

Excel?

Do you use other social media? If yes, which services? What are your screennames and handles? What street did you grow up on? What was your Elementary School’s maiden name?

Statistically, yes.

I’ve seen a cable lift that worked basically like that. It transferred ore down the mountain, so heavy buckets going down lifted the empty buckets back up.

Young people want to live their own lives, and part of that is choosing their furniture. You finally get a home of your own and the freedom to furnish it how you want and…oh I’m supposed to have all this old crap I don’t really like.

Then your dad starts up with his shit. “Don’t throw out that ratty yellowed old doily. I remember that from when I was a kid.” “Okay, you take it.” Here’s a cabinet of gramma’s china. They bought it for her out of a mail order catalog in the 30’s so it’s more sacred than god’s glans.

We’re also entering the era when the grandparents who are dying and leaving behind their furniture bought all their furniture from Sears and it’s not much better than stuff you can get at Ikea, 40 years out of date, and seen 40 years of tobacco tar, cat piss and grampa farts.

I mean, you don’t ask yourself why the heirs don’t wear their grandparents’ old clothes.

Mindustry looks like one of those games you’d find on those “1001 Games!” cds back in the 90s thatbalways had the Hugo Whodunit games and the shareware version of Wolfenstein 3D. It has that MS Paint look to it.

I took a drive today. Around my old stomping grounds, streets I haven’t driven down in years if not decades. Past the hospital where I was born, past the high school I graduated from. Down the highway where my driver’s ed teacher when I was 15 kept bitching at me to lift my head off the headrest. I made sure to drive that stretch of road with my head on the headrest.

I drove past my great grandmother’s old house, where some of my earliest memories were formed. It’s been standing abandoned long enough that trees are growing through the porch now. Past the Yamaha dealership where I bought my first motorcycle, which is now a machine parts warehouse. Past the airport where I got my pilot’s license.

I stopped at the lake by my old college and walked the trail around it, stopping at some of the little fishing piers, benches to look at the lake and the woods. I stopped at the foot bridge over the creek that feeds the lake and just looked upstream and listened to the water babble over the tree roots.

The entire time I was out, my mind could only do two things: hum Auld Lang Syne and envision swimming straight out to sea.

On a related note, the above text felt like an answer to this question.

I always say the moon landings were faked dozens if not hundreds of times and only done for real a half dozen times.

Pilot here. You want to know how important weather data is for safe air travel?

It’s yes% important.

I want to find the man who put sound effects in Microsoft Minesweeper, whenever that happened? When it went from grey Windows 95 looking to the blue background and the smiley face disappeared. I want to find the guy who put those sound effects in the game, and I want to hand plane his scrotum off and then send him home with nothing holding his testicles on but his fruit of the looms.

English class is just a place to go to be wrong according to someone with no actual skills.

English itself is the result of numerous rounds of multilingual people mashing together the most efficient bits of other languages. The rules are so inconsistent that there kind of aren’t any. Also, written English and spoken English are two different languages with different rules, which is why you sound pompous when reading aloud formal essays and why you have to invent emoticons and even start to do rich formatting and change fonts to translate casual conversation into writing.

Take a persuasive writing class at an American college, typically numbered as ENG-112, they might touch on a few points about how to create effective arguments, they’re mostly going to grade on pedantic points of grammar, punctuation, spelling and MLA formatting. They’re not going to teach you a damn thing about teaching, partially because they’re obligated to generate test scores and testing a skill-based curriculum is more difficult than a pedantic rule following one, and mostly because they don’t have any actual teaching skills themselves.

Which is why there is a nationwide industry of your high school teacher teaching you how to use semicolons and a college professor marking you wrong for doing it that way.

Here’s my rule: Anything in my Chevy S10 that you control by turning a knob, moving a lever, or momentarily push a button? That needs to be a physical control in a car. Anything where you push and hold a button, or mash a button multiple times (like setting the clock or turning off the DRLs respectively) can be moved to a settings menu in a touch screen. These things shouldn’t be done while moving.

And no, touch sensitive single-function panels like the climate controls in my father’s Avalon are not good enough, it needs to be a mechanical control that you can feel for without activating.

A problem I deftly sidestepped by avoiding “smart” watches altogether.