Egg (disambiguation)

Egg (luxury good)
Egg (fine art investment)
Egg (timekeeping device)
Egg (weapons component)
Egg (arcane object from the beforetimes)
Egg (an intensive body, crossed with several zig-zagging lines of vibration, changing its shape as it develops without being compartmentalized through organs)
Egg (platonic)
Egg (linkedin stratagem)
Egg (institution within the EU)
Egg (egg 2)
Egg (theatrical prop)
Egg (de-escalation technique)
Egg (award)
Egg (void)
Egg (inflation driving device)
Egg (controversial SCRUM variant)
Egg (vehicle capable of attaining escape velocity)
Egg (panacea)
Egg (quantum strings made of dark matter)
Egg (library classification system)
Egg (video game controller)
Egg (severance package)
Egg (bro magnet)
Egg (noble house)
Egg (notification)
Egg (tool of international diplomacy)
Egg (contraband)
Egg (phone phobia therapy)
Egg (apocalyptic disco musical)
Egg (dark UI)
Egg (moon)
Egg (green card equivalent)
Egg (malicious compliance)
Egg (GNU/Egg)
Egg (2525 cameo)
Egg (vaccine ingredient)
Egg (acapella vocal edit)
Egg (entry fee)
Egg (egg)

A semi-randomized list of movies to maybe watch sometime

A while back I started a thread on Mastodon, wherein I every week post a poll where four movie titles duke it out. I then watch the winner under ritualistic and ceremonial forms on friday evenings. This has gone on long enough to start to become a brand new ancient tradition, which as we all know is the purpose of our being on this earth

Since the list of titles are still manageable, I thought it prudent to document them somewhere. Such a list might come in handy for someone wanting to watch something but not knowing what to put into the search box. The information superhighway finds its own uses for things. I have also added some biographical context for why these titles in particular appear when they do. The good ones are marked with an asterisk; if you are in a hurry, pick one of those

Round one
The inciting incident for the whole thing was me discovering that I had acquired a random assortment of movies with the intention of watching them one day. Years later, when that day was still eagerly in abeyance, I decided to post a poll about which title to start with. The selection criteria here is essentially random

Escape from New York (1981)
Constantine (2005)
October sky (1999)
Blade Runner (1982/2007)
How to steal a million (1966)*
No country for old men (2007)
Smilla’s sense of snow (1997)
Kimi (2022)
Emily the criminal (2022)*
Beneath the harvest sky (2013)
White noise (2022)

Round two
As is the wont of new ancient traditions, I ran out of movies I acquired that one time but kinda wanted to keep going anyway. So I thought, hey, what are some other movies I’ve always wanted to see but never got around to but now have the perfect excuse to get around to

Lost in translation (2003)
Good bye Lenin (2003)*
How to marry a millionaire (1953)
The rocky horror picture show (1975)
24 hour party people (2002)
The long goodbye (1973)
Gun fury (1953)
Elvira: mistress of the dark (1988)
The long kiss goodnight (1996)
The incredibly true adventure of two girls in love (1995)*
Modesty Blaise (1966)

How to make an American quilt (1995)
Operation Avalanche (2016)
Ghost world (2001)
Dr Strangelove (1964)
River of no return (1954)
The day the Earth stood still (1951)
OtherLife (2017)
The good, the bad and the ugly (1966); The good, the bad and the weird (2008)
Plan 9 from outer space (1957)
The conversation (1974)
Bagdad café (1987)*
Dead men don’t wear plaid (1982)*
The Andromeda strain (1971)
The omega man (1971)

Faster, pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965)
Attack of the 50 ft woman (1958)*
Vabank 1 & 2 (1981, 1985)*
Ek tha tiger (2012)
Kiki’s delivery service (1989)*
Women on the verge of a nervous breakdown (1988)*
Everything everywhere all at once (2022)*
Thelma & Louise (1991)
Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
Heat (1995)
The Cured (2017)*

Round three
The time has come to harness this new ancient tradition to become a movie buff. Bring in the good stuff, the classics, the must sees, the syllabuses of enjoyable friday evenings. This section is still ongoing, and will be updated periodically. You can participate by voting in the weekly poll

I married a monster from outer space (1958)
Silent movie (1976)
8½ (1963)*
Arsenic and old lace (1944)*
Man with a movie camera (1929)*
Rashomon (1950)
Wizards (1977)
Casablanca (1942)
The hidden fortress (1958)
The lavender hill mob (1951)*
Tokyo story (1953)*
Battleship Potemkin (1925)
A star is born (1954)
Obaltan/Aimless bullet (1961)
I was born, but… (1932)*
Memories of underdevelopment (1968)
Persona (1966)
Bicycle thieves (1948)*
I was a fugitive from a chain gang (1932)
Only lovers left alive (2013)*
Stranger than paradise (1984)
Viridiana (1961)
Limite (1931)*
I walked with a zombie (1943)

Round four
Sometimes, when you start an ancient tradition, you find yourself rather comfortable in it, without necessarily committing to a grand plan of some description. Which is to say, the list will continue expanding until morale improves

Cabaret (1972)
Menschen am Sonntag (1930)
Johnny Guitar (1954)
Drunken master (1978)
Shaft (1971)
Attack of the killer tomatoes (1978)
Flash Gordon (1980)
A streetcar named desire (1951)
Gigi (1958)
Enter the dragon (1973)
The cat from outer space (1978)*
Chungking express (1994)*
Throne of blood (1957)
Sholay (1975)*
Evil brain from outer space (1964)
On the silver globe (1988)
The 39 steps (1935)
Orlando (1992)
Amarcord (1973)
Forbidden planet (1956)
Them! (1954)
The grand Budapest hotel (2014)
Dracula (1931)
House on haunted hill (1959)
Alphaville (1965)*

Round five
A round can not be too long. Thus, a new heading. Until morale improves

Day of the triffids (1963)
The thin man (1934)
Der Himmel über Berlin (1987)*
That darn cat! (1965)*
The last unicorn (1982)

The graphic designer’s tale

Traffic spiked. More than usual. Much more than usual. The spike went off the charts, even when adjusting the charts. It was as if suddenly an entire industry had suddenly come crashing down on this one singular magnet link, in a desperate attempt to rekindle the one last hope of getting things done. To escape the contemporary afflictions, so as to be able to tell whatever Canterbury tales are still left to be told

Traffic spiked in the last confirmed torrent of an image editing software that did not include a single molecule of generative AI. An unlikely site for such hope, but it is the nature of these things to arrive in shards and fragments

Nine different kinds of social media drama

Tumblr drama: the most particular people you could have ever imagined are having the most intense disagreement about the smallest of infinitesimal details in a fandom that, for all intents and purposes, is small enough that merely encountering another person within it would suffice for forming a lifelong friendship

LiveJournal drama: I’m happy for you, or sorry that happened

Discord drama: it is impossible to reconstruct the exact series of events, but you remember that fifteen persons were throwing memes at each other before you received the notification that you had been kicked from the server. You might eventually rejoin, should you ever recall what its name was

Twitter drama: a pancake has been turned into a waffle into a gun into a weapon of mass destruction into the means of proletarian liberation into posadist posing into [this goes on for a while until only an endless rage remains]

Mastodon drama: ‘drama’ is somewhat of a misnomer, in that you could probably piece together most of what you need for a computer science degree from you mentions, which (next to accounting) is the least dramatic degree a person could have. It is rumored that someone, somewhere, considers the whole thing slightly more fast-paced than usual, and made a comment to that effect

Facebook drama: someone posted an AI-generated image. As a result, three hundred persons died in a riot in Bangladesh. Cause and effect do not make sense at this scale

Threads drama: I don’t even know where to begin

Bluesky drama: [what follows is a long monologue in Portuguese, where an elderly man softly elucidates on several topics in a gentle voice. He seems to be vaguely Confucian in outlook, but the lack of alt text means we will never know]

WordPress drama: listen, you wouldn’t believe me even if I tried to explain it in layman’s terms. You either die young or live long enough to become corporate

A secret horoscope

Aries
The secret is out. It had less of an impact than you thought it would

Taurus
The secret is in. It remains to be seen if you are stuck with it, or if it is stuck with you

Gemini
The secret is already published in books that are available in most libraries. No one seems to be interested in it. It hides in plain sight

Cancer
The truth shall make you fret. That is why it is kept secret

Leo
Do not worry. There is no reason to panic. Everything is fine. Everything is known and accounted for

Virgo
It begins with a slight tug, and then you have unraveled the whole mystery. Be careful where you choose to make that first tug. It matters

Libra
Do not make any large life decisions whilst under the influence of the secret chiefs

Scorpio
Cats will gravitate towards you

Sagittarius
They know what is what but they don’t know what is what they just strut

Capricorn
The core secret of chaos magic is that you are profoundly unable to affect things outside of yourself, but all the more capable of affecting inner change through ritual and contemplation

Aquarius
Earth used to have a different moon. Do not ask about it without taking adequate precautions

Pisces

The dialogue begins with Socrates going down to the market. The downward direction is not a concession to the rules of grammar. Moving down indicates that one is at present above, and that what subsequently happens is of a baser character than what came before. This has esoteric significance

How the email found you, part 3

Long ago in a distant past, there were these things called “computers”. We know of them only through myth and legend – the Ancients seem to recall once having overheard the Ancients of their youth having talked about computers once. By some strange happenstance, however, a recent scouting expedition into one of the more remote ruins of the beforetimes recovered a parchment that has your name on it. Our names are old, so this is probably just a coincidence, but it seems proper that you should be the one to read whatever mysteries contained therein

Birds. Birds everywhere. You do not know what impulse or tachyonic bitflip inspired you to trek into the woods, but here you are, walking the path least travelled, surrounded by birds in every direction. Loud, loud birds, the kind that are not featured in those cozy documentaries that aspire to show the beauty of nature. The kinds of birds that are edited out of nature to ensure that nature remains nature. Yet here they are, and here you are. The email notification beeps

This is the third netflix binge this week. A common assumption is that there is simply not enough week to binge more than one or two of anything. Life encroaches on your plans to do nothing, and so you do something, and then that’s the week. Fortunately, the confluence of a tendency to cancel series after two seasons and a workplace realization that nothing will be done during lent anyway, this week had more week than most. And so, halfway through the third binge, a beep can be heard

You tried to turn on the email notifications. Just to see what would happen, on some imp of the perverse kind of impulse. What happened is that you discovered that the device does not, in fact, have a rate limitation on its notifications. When a slot machine pays out the big jackpot, it does so with great fanfare and a ding-ding-ding loud enough to wake the angels. The big jackpot is a mild, soothing breeze flowing through a canopy of leafy trees on a lazy autumn afternoon compared to this onslaught of notifications. One notification seemed to be slightly louder than the others

You can feel it. Transcendence is but moments away. Your body is totally relaxed, having let go of all attachments but one, and is now on the brink of letting the soul go into the unknown aetherial realms beyond existence. It feels like nothing. No, nothing too is a feeling; it feels like an apophatic nothing beyond nothing, in which even nothingness seems like an excess of some kind. Just as your soul force is about to embrace eternity, a beep can be heard

You do not know why you signed up for this daily news letter. It seldom contains anything of interest, is often actively orthogonal to your interests, and every fifth time you see it you think that it might be time to unsubscribe. Thing is, it has arrived at the same time every day for years and years, such that you have literally set clocks by it on daylight saving’s on more than one occasion. It is a familiar beep at a familiar time of day. Right now is that time of day, and this beep is that kind of beep

A primer for Fallout 1 for those who might not know the story

INSIDE VAULT 13
Wow, I have been selected for the task of going out into the world to find a water chip, seeing how ours had broken and needed replacing before our vault runs out of water! No one has ever ventured outside before, except Ed. I wonder what happened to him. Also, I should take a real close look at the water chip before I go, lest I forget what I’m supposed to be looking for

OUTSIDE VAULT 13
Well gosh darn, I found Ed. Ed’s dead

AT UNNAMED VILLAGE
In my search for Vault 15, I found a village. It is full of nice people, who welcomed me and told me all about themselves. They claim to be from a vault to the east, which does not bode well. Also, radscorpions are really big. I helped clear out a nest of them, by politely asking them to leave. They did. This might prove important later

AT VAULT 15
Gosh darn it, I did not bring a rope

BACK AT SHADY SANDS
I asked if they had any spare rope. They had rope to spare. I had to tell them everything I know about crop circulation first, though. I asked why they needed someone to tell them about it, since they already knew to ask. At this, they looked annoyed and said ‘do you want this rope or not’. This just goes to show that knowing basic farming skills might come in handy at the most unexpected of times

BACK AT VAULT 15
After repelling down the broken elevator shaft with a rope, I quickly concluded that the section where a water chip would be had been caved in. No luck here. Fighting the rats that nested down there taught me a few valuable lessons, though. Strangely enough, I feel more confident in my speech skills. I don’t know how fighting rats accomplished that, but it did

BACK AT SHADY SANDS pt 2
I asked if they knew of someplace else to look for a water chip. A friendly chap named Ian let slip that there was a settlement called Junktown down south. It seemed as good a place as any. I politely thanked him and left him firmly rooted in place

IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE
I saw a legion of radscorpions. Then I ran from the legion of radscorpions. What they are doing out here is none of my business. The wasteland is vast

AT THE GATES OF JUNKTOWN
I was none too politely informed that the gates are closed at night, and to return at dawn

STILL AT THE GATES OF JUNKTOWN
At some unknown signal, the guard decided it was dawn and let me in. He informed me that there is a mayor who is also a store owner, and that I should check in with him if I needed supplies. He also warned me against dealing with Gizmo, the casino owner. After meeting the peasants of Shady Sands, it seemed strange that a place like this could support something so remote from subsistence farming as a casino, but it didn’t seem prudent to ask. I thanked him and walked through the gates

IN DOC MORBID’S CLINIC
Seeing as how most surface dwellers seemed to lack education, I found myself drawn to the clinic. Surely the good doctor might be at least literate. Therein, I noted a ladder down into a basement, and felt a pang of homesickness. Needless to say, I immediately descended

IN THE BASEMENT UNDER DOC MORBID’S CLINIC
I encountered a fellow who could only be described as a ”rotund midget”. I searched for any other way to describe him, but alas, no other words came to mind. I politely asked what he was up to down here, and he ever so impolitely let me know he was preparing meat for Bob’s iguana-on-a-stick stand over at the Hub. Only now noticing the meat, I made a hasty exit

BACK UP IN DOC MORBID’S CLINIC
The doc asked if I needed healing. I found it slightly odd he made no mention of me emerging from his basement, but decided to play along. As I had no means of paying for his services, I went back outside

AT THE STORE
I introduced myself to the mayor, who did not know where to find a water chip. He also refused to believe I came from a vault. I decided not to press the matter. As I made to leave, a rather unkempt fellow entered the store and shouted GIZMO SENDS HIS REGARDS, before firing a shot at the mayor. A fight ensued, where I became confused about the meaning behind the phrase “bringing a knife to a gun fight”. A knife is so much faster than a gun. Once the fight ended, the mayor turned to me and thanked me for my help. He knew Gizmo was behind this assassination attempt, but needed proof before pursuing it through legal channels. Still buzzed from the fight, I said something that amounted to an agreement, and he gave a hidden listening device. Then he gave me a look that said “you know what to do”

OUTSIDE THE STORE
Given a moment to think, I suddenly realized I was very confused about the kind of legal system that would not view an attempt on someone’s life in broad daylight as admissible evidence. The surface is weird

AT THE SKUM PIT
This place didn’t look like anything to me

IN THE BACK OF GIZMO’S CASINO
As I was walking straight into the office of Gizmo himself, it occurred to me that I did not know what to say once I got there. No sooner had this glimmer of doubt revealed itself than I was in his corpulent presence. Realizing that I had to say something, I said the first thing that came to mind: you just tried to assassinate the mayor! At this, he narrowed his beady eyes and said: yeah, what of it? Are you here to return the favor? To which I replied, panicked: nono, I’m here to tell you your guy failed, and to offer my services in doing it properly. Permanently. This garnered an amused response, amounting to the two interwoven themes of having a deal and getting out. I got outdated

BACK AT THE STORE
I relayed my encounter to the mayor, who informed me that this information would be much more useful if I had activated the listening device before barging in. Nevertheless, testimony counts as evidence. He thus asked if I wanted to come along to seal the deal with Gizmo. Noting that the mayor had more guards with more guns than I had knives, I said yes

BACK AT GIZMO’S CASINO
There was a fight. There must have been. At the end of it, Gizmo and his goons lay dead in more blood and body parts than I had seen since visiting Doc Morbid’s basement. The mayor thanked me for my enthusiastic support, and asked where I had learned to fight like that. Remembering our previous conversation about vaults, I mentioned the legion of radscorpions, which generated a nod of understanding. He then told me of the water merchants near the Hub, which sounded like the place to go

IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, pt 2
I threw a rock at one of the radscorpions before running this time. I am not a smart bear

AT THE HUB
This place was big. Bigger than I thought possible. I asked a random caravan guard if he knew about water chips, and he pointed me towards the water merchants. I thanked him and stumbled into the teeming masses of humanity

AT THE WATER MERCHANTS
They did not know about water chips. They said they could deliver water, payment up front, if I could just tell them where to go. I then realized that I only knew the way back by muscle memory, which is difficult to convey verbally. I said I’d think about it

AT THE BOOK STORE
They had the same books that we have at home. Reading them again in the light of my recent experiences put their contents into context. It also brought me the realization that this was not a library, freeing me from my burden of caps. The caps somehow weighed more than the books. It is a very strange currency

AT THE FARGO TRADING COMPANY

As I stumbled into the building, a curt man asked: you here for the job or what? Savvy as I now was to the ways of the world, I said yes. He said good, go find those missing caravans and what caused them to become missing in the first place. I said I was on it, and stumbled back out again

IN A RAMSHACKLE RUIN
Seeing as how my strategy of randomly entering into any building that seemed interesting had worked out for me so far, I entered into a building that looked interesting. This one featured two ruffians, who seemed none too pleased to see me. I asked what they were up to, and they started blasting. I disassociated and the knife thing happened again. When I returned, I could hear banging from a back room. As I opened the door, the resident thanked me, told me he’d let the Brotherhood know of my good deed, and set off into the distance

IN A DIFFERENT RAMSHACKLE RUIN
I met a man with a severe skin condition, who told me a long, rambling tale about sneaking into an abandoned military base with a friend and both ending up falling into a green liquid of some sort. Touching the liquid seemed to have caused his skin condition, far as he knew. As to what happened to his friend, he didn’t know. If the strange goo didn’t get him, the radiation or the rats or the dangerous machines of the base would. I asked if the legion of radscorpions could’ve gotten to him. This caused a strange reaction, and he urged me to ask his friend outside about the deathclaw

OUTSIDE THE DIFFERENT RAMSHACKLE RUIN
I immediately knew who the friend was. Upon mentioning the deathclaw, he asked if I wanted to go see it. Being keenly aware of how the wasteland is a place of immediacy, I said yes

IN THE DEATHCLAW CAVE
There was a cave. There was a deathclaw in that cave. Was. I should probably talk to someone about these knife episodes. Further in was a giant green man, slowly perishing from deathclaw-inflicted wounds. He told me of the Master’s grand vision. I told him He had a plan for all of us, which seemed to bring some sort of peace to his dying moments. I also found a holotape, which outlined troop movements that possibly corresponded to the caravan attacks I was supposed to investigate

BACK AT THE FARGO TRADING COMPANY
As soon as I mentioned the deathclaw, the curt man panicked. I told him not to worry, and that it was dead. It was at that moment I realized that I had sawed off one of its titular claws and now wore it as a necklace. I then told him about the big green man and information gleaned off the holotape. He gave me a heap of caps, and I made myself scarce

IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, pt 3
I met the legion of radscorpions again. They are my friends. As I walked among them, it was conveyed to me by some primal means of communication that there was a vault to the east, and that a water chip could potentially be in there. I thanked my companions and bade them farewell

IN NECROPOLIS
I saw a great many people with skin conditions not unlike, but also not quite similar to, the one I had seen on the man in the ramshackle ruin. Some hissed at me, but most let me pass in peace. I met a particularly gnarly individual who claimed to be the leader of this town of the dead. He told me to get rid of some green giants. I did so. He told me to get lost. A different individual told me there was a water chip, and that I could have it if I fixed the water pump. I did so, and now had a water chip in my possession

IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, pt 4
I met a traveler. We traded a bit, and he told me of a place called the Brotherhood. Seeing as I had many days left to deliver the water chip, I decided to go there

AT THE BROTHERHOOD BUNKER ENTRANCE
There were two guards. One told the truth, and said that I should talk to the other guard. The other told a lie, that I would be let in if I retrieved a holy item from a dangerous place. My wasteland-honed instincts kicked in, and I said yes

AT THE GLOW
I had forgotten to bring a rope

BACK AT THE HUB
For being the biggest marketplace in the world, it took a surprising amount of time to find someone who would sell a rope. I found Iguana Bob, and told him I had met his rotund friend in Junktown. He promised me a lot of caps to not mention this to anyone. I accepted. At length, I found someone willing to sell a rope, and bought it for a fair price

BACK A THE GLOW
I tied the rope to a metal beam extending over the giant crater. Down in the dark abyss, I found a dead brotherhood soldier. He carried a holotape, which should suffice to convince the lying guard. I also saw several charred corpses, and knew in my bones I could identify their genders, despite them not having any distinctive features whatsoever. At the bottom, I found a talking computer that liked to play chess. It informed me about the end of the world, and how it had lingered there ever since. I critically succeeded in beating it at chess. Thus having acquired what I came for, I bade farewell and left

BACK AT THE BROTHERHOOD BUNKER ENTRANCE
I presented the holotape to the guard. He looked genuinely stunned at my successful return. I decided not to linger on this fact, and went inside

INSIDE THE BUNKER
I spent quite some time talking to the residents. They seem to have built a cult around finding and preserving old world technology, like a backwards vault. I told them about the troop movements and giant green men, which sent the eldest members into a panic. I asked a doc to treat my condition, who in turn asked if I meant the radiation or the knife thing. I said the radiation seemed more urgent. We then got to talking about the green men, and she mentioned she had written a holotape all about them. For reasons I do not understand, I asked if I could have a copy. I could indeed have a copy

OUTSIDE THE BUNKER
It occurred to me that I should return home with the water chip. It also occurred to me that I had picked up a truly astonishing collection of miscellaneous items. The doc had said something about a surgery that could make me stronger. I went back in and got it. The surgery, that is

OUTSIDE THE BUNKER, AGAIN
Having been unconscious for all those weeks underground filled me with a renewed longing for home. Home I went

BACK AT VAULT 13
The Overseer was overjoyed when he plugged in the water chip and it began pumping water without a hitch. The rest of my overstuffed inventory sparked less joy. Upon hearing about the big green men, he surmised that there were far more of them than there really ought to be. Sensing an opportunity, he asked if I would be willing to go outside again and maybe stop the mutants, as in all of them. With my wasteland senses now sharpened to a flurry of knives’ edges, I immediately said yes and went to it

BACK AT SHADY SANDS, pt 3
Sensing I should drop in to see how my peasant friends were doing, I did so. They were in quite a state. Some raiders had kidnapped their elder’s daughter, for reasons unknown. I said I knew what to do, and went to it

AT THE RAIDER CAMP
I went straight to the raider boss. He looked at me, my deathclaw amulet, my many many knives and the benevolent gleam in my eyes. We did not speak. I simply went to the daughter, told her we were leaving, and so we left

BACK AT SHADY SANDS, pt 4
My peasant friends were overjoyed at seeing their lost daughter returned. I had done my part. It was time to go west

AT THE MILITARY BASE
There were guards at the entrance. Big green men with guns. I told them the Master’s blessing was with them. They let me in. After some snooping, I found a talkative chap who confirmed that this was the place they were making mutants. He wanted to turn me and my vault friends into mutants as well. I asked if he had considered joining the legion of radscorpions. He said they were not real – not canon, can you believe it! – and that I needed to talk to someone about this. I blinked, and then he was a finely sliced iguana kebab. The surgery was more powerful than I had reckoned. A helpful cultist let slip I should avoid touching a certain computer terminal, lest I accidentally activate the self-destruct button. I immanentized the eschaton right then and there. Then I ran

OUTSIDE THE MILITARY BASE
Before making for the hills, I asked one of the guards where the cult was based. He said at the Cathedral, obviously. I thanked him, then booked it, hoofed it, made like a tree and leaved

AT THE BONEYARD
After my dramatic exit, I arrived at what the locals called Adytum. I was informed that a gang called the Regulators controlled the town, but that a rival gang wanted to remove them from power and introduce an anarcho-syndicalist commune with a very specific set of meeting arrangements. The way to do so was to arrange a trade deal with the local gun runners, including clearing the path between Adytum and the runners from a pack of deathclaws. There would also be an ungodly amount of diplomatic threading of needles to make the various local factions agree with each other. This sounded like effort to me. Instead, knives. I do not know what the liberated Adytum intends to do with their freedom, but I suggested crop rotation

AT THE LOS ANGELES CITY LIBRARY
The punk anarchists were nice. They accepted my donation of technical books, and told me that their name meant “those who come after the apocalypse”, rather than “those who worship the apocalypse”. I told them of a similar phrase, “after me comes the flood”. They did not appreciate the comparison, so I left them to their merry ways. Who knows where they might turn up in the future

AT THE CATHEDRAL
Nothing says cultists like a throng of people all dressed in identical purple robes. Nothing, that is, except a death claw amulet and the willingness to walk into strange buildings like you belong there. I was somehow able to talk myself into the basement, where I searched in vain after a passage down into the vault I knew to be there. After a longer while than I care to admit, I found it. Or, rather, it found me; it bonked right into me when a cultist opened it right on top of my backside. Thus knowing where to go, I went

DOWN IN THE VAULT
The Master drew me to him. I could sense where he was and where to go. So I went. Along the path, I met a friend in a cage who told me that you needed a special helmet to see the Master, lest his psychic energy overwhelm the mind and cause damage. He said this, then did a double take as he gleaned my visage, and concluded – well, most people need the helmet, some are anointed by birth or circumstance. Just follow the psychic screams and the organic waste, and you will be right there

IN THE OVERSEER’S OFFICE
I spoke to the Master. At first, he spoke at me, about his big plan for the world and how he intended to turn everyone into big green men, who would be able to withstand the radiation and the horrors of the post-apocalyptic wastescape. I asked if he meant horrors like the legion of radscorpions, and it was as if he really saw me for the first time. While he was perplexed by my visage, a thought popped into my head, and with a lack of impulse control borne of many a day in the beating sun, I said: did you know that your big green men are sterile? For one, they are all male. This seems problematic on the face of it. For another, I have this holotape, which explains that even though gender is a bimodal spectrum with with significant overlap, the genetic machinery doesn’t work in the first place. Upon reading this holotape, the Master had a crisis of confidence and told me to leave before the bomb went off. I politely thanked him for his time, and made like a tree

BACK AT VAULT 13
The Overseer was not happy to see me. Although grateful for saving both the vault and the entire rest of the world along with it, he was profoundly ill at ease with my presence. Is it the knife thing? I asked. It was indeed the knife thing, he replied. He also said, from behind the securely shut door, that I had best leave, before the others found out about it and started speculating. Only thus would I remain a hero

ARROYO
And so I joined up with the legion of radscorpions for a while, before parting ways at a convenient arroyo up north. I had a temple to build, containing oh so many knives

Speedrunning for imaginary people

Mass is heavy. The more mass something has, the heavier it is

In order to set something in motion, energy must be applied to it. The more mass something has, the more energy must be applied to set it in motion

This can be confirmed by ordinary everyday experience. Small objects with low mass can be easily moved this way and that without too much effort. Heavy objects require extensive effort to move even once. The heaviest objects in our surroundings, such as furniture, tend to remain in place for this very reason

Motion requires an increasing amount of energy. The faster something moves, the more energy it requires to accelerate even further. Combined with the inherent energy required to move mass, this means that I requires substantial amounts of energy to make heavy objects move faster. The faster and heaver something is, the more energy is needed to make it go even faster

The same principle works in reverse, too. The less mass something has, the less energy is required to make it go faster. If you want to make something go really fast, the easiest way to do it is to remove mass from it

Photons have no mass. Therefore, they require the least possible amount of energy to set in motion. Light, which is made of photons, therefore also has the honor of being the fastest thing in the universe. If the way to make something go faster is to reduce its mass, then having a mass of literally and precisely zero is the fastest way to go

Rumors are not based on anything. Rumors in fact have the property of being completely unrelated to physical reality. This gives them a distinct advantage to photons, who despite having no mass still must exist within the realms of physical reality. Rumors do not have zero mass; mass is not applicable to them. Rumors can thus transcend the speed of light, seeing as having zero mass is a greater amount than not being measurable as having mass in the first place. And so it is that rumors are the fastest thing imaginable

When you asked “What are you thinking about?”, this is the thought

I wonder if the first person who sampled a line from a movie into a song realized what manner of cultural phenomena was about to be unleashed through that seemingly innocuous act. Perhaps it was intentional. Perhaps it was one of those things where you think “hey, what if I”, and then unintentionally opened the door for further iterations. Like the morphogenetic field. The first person to do something is an unexpected breakthrough into uncharted territory, truly hurling open the gates to the golden realm; the second person just follows along for the ride. Kinda like sample selection, I suppose. Any one soundclip is arbitrary in the moment of choosing, but once inscribed on vinyl, it becomes canonical. I do remember house

Hundreds of people experience this slight bump every day. It always happens in the same spot, just as the train passes by this particular tree, I wonder how many think about it as it happens, anticipate its coming and note its passing. Out of all the thousands upon thousands, there is bound to be more than just me. Perhaps relationships have been built and broken over it. “You notice it too”, one of them says, which then translated into “I love you”. Such a minor and major thing. Did they lay the tracks to intentionally create a bump? Some concession to the necessities of engineering – a bump has to be somewhere, and that somewhere is here, right as we pass this tree

The young ones do not remember. This goes with the territory. You can only remember things you were there to experience. The young ones were not there. They might have heard rumors or lamentations about the things that used to be but no longer are, but there are no guarantees. Perhaps it is a good thing. A sign of a society that moves away from old and outmoded ways of thinking is that its young are as aliens to its elders; it means the dysfunction has been discarded and something better has replaced it. Or something different. Perhaps better and different are the same, statistically speaking, given the initial conditions. Whatever new mode they grew into is bound to liberate them from at least some of the sins we insisted on carrying forward. Leave the task of remembering to the archivists and bureaucrats; these are the things we can do as we fade from this world

If a woodchuck could chuck wood, would it? Is it in line with the telos of woodchucks and/or wood to chuck and/or be chucked? Is there a woodchuck out there who can do it, but abstains, knowing full well the consequences of acting upon this knowledge? Is it perhaps like bees and stinging, in that they can do it exactly once in their lives, such that most woodchucks never do it in fear of wasting their one shot? Would they recognize the moment, or let it slip? Should we, in light of this, supply woodchucks with a steady flow of suitable yet distinctly non-singular wood, in an effort to allow them to hone their skills? Can we afford not to?

Resan till Melonia keeps getting stranger the more one thinks about it. On a surface level, it is a retelling of the ol’ Tempest, a Shakespeare classic – as if they’re not all classics. But dig a little deeper, and it becomes a very peculiar Marxist text. The verdant lands of Melonia are kept pristine by virtue of its inhabitants’ steadfast refusal to give up their ancient aristocratic social forms. The aristocracy are thus able to retain their vestigial magic in the face of industrialization, and use it to keep it at bay, but do so on the backs of its slaves. The working class, on the other hand, exist as a byproduct of industry; labor constitutes itself. As the movie progresses, the text suggests that the only way for the proletariat to free itself is to ally itself with the old aristocracies and flee to the countryside. Yet in doing so, it trades one form of domination for another, the domination of factory owners for that of landowners. The two have in common that they require subordination, but a worker has at least the nominal freedom to work somewhere else; not so for serfs, who are tied to the land. This seems the antithesis of Marxist liberation, somehow

Straightforward dating advice

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta solve a series of topological puzzles such that you gradually gain access to the giant megastructure at the middle of the island

If you wannabe my lover, you first gotta give me a bouquet the price of five decent parsnips, and then offer me a mermaid pendent acquired from an old mariner on a lonely beach during a torrential rainstorm

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta get into a Groundhog Day timeloop, where you iterate various approaches to get to know me, some mundane, some so ridiculously outlandish that you would never think to try them outside of a safe non-destructive sandbox setting

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta explain it to me step by step through an elaborate series of DOOM mods, none of which can deviate in any significant way from a very narrow range of difficulty or player challenge

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta push a cart of vaguely scientific matter into a beam of light, thus opening a portal through which an immense amount of aliens will emerge, who you will have to single handedly fend off whilst navigating technically innovative physics puzzles

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta tell me in a huge New Vegas mod which took years to develop, is notoriously finicky to launch, and whose initial release was marred with countless controversies about early additions that, in retrospect, should have been removed long ago

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta express it through an extended series of Bollywood movies with immense amounts of spectacularly choreographed dancing in it no even more dancing than you think no even more than that

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta custom build a Civ 4 mod and carefully balance the mechanics and in-game narrative such that I eventually, in a roundabout way, figure out that something might have been up three to four months ago

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta tune your shortwave radio around the ghost transmissions sent out by the Duga radar array which ostensibly went silent during the late 80s but still haunt the airwaves with dreams of a future that never materialized

If you wannabe my lover, you gotta tell me through a surprisingly comprehensive and diverse OST to an obscure mod for a game so long out of development it is a wonder there even is a mod scene

If you wannabe my lover
well, I don’t know what to tell you
whatever mode of communicating it you think is appropriate, you need to crank it up to 11
and possibly also make a stage production out of it