Notices by Nerviest Initial (intransitivelie@beige.party)

@RegGuy
They will in the 2030s right before the second coming of Jesus. Nostradamus said so, and he's never been wrong about anything.

@perdantperdant @pikesley
They don't count 😝

@perdantperdant @pikesley
No, in all seriousness, I couldn't think of good jokes for them.

People in the future are going to be super confused by Windows versions.

"So there was Windows, right?"

"Well, mostly Windows 3.1."

"Which was the third version?"

"No."

"So then Windows 4 must have come after that."

"No, they jumped to version 95."

"So then Windows 96..."

"No, then they skipped to 98."

"Oh, but it was for the year it came out, right?"

"Kinda."

"But surely after that..."

"Well, after that they actually moved away from version numbers and gave them names."

"Oh, like MacOS!"

"Sort of..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the first version was XP."

"What does that stand for?"

"No idea."

"Did they just use letters after that?"

"No, then they named the next version Vista."

"Like... the stuff you see out of a window! Ok, so the version after that was Windows Outlook, right?"

"No, the version after that was Windows 7."

"7?!"

"Yeah."

"But... It wasn't the seventh version of Windows even."

"Yeah, but the version after 7 was 8."

"Okay, back on track!"

"Not really. The next version was 10."

"Because it came out in 2010?"

"No."

"Fuck."

"Then came Windows 11, and they stopped releasing new versions for a while and just added LLM panopticon nonsense until everyone switched to Linux in the 2030s and then when the second coming of Jesus fried everyone's hard drives..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Windows II: The Empire Strikes Back..."

"No, that was Windows V."

"I give up."

Instead of reporting on the dollar amounts of corporate fines, the news should just say how many minutes of profit the fine represents. "The EPA slapped Apple with a two second fine," is much more honest.

Tell you what: reply to this toot with a number and I'll give you a sentence from that page of the book I haven't actually written.

I voted with my wallet and now I can't get my credit card out of the voting machine send help

I'm pretty good at eating sunflower seeds. I can remove the shells with my teeth and spit the shells out while maintaining a stock of unshelled seeds in one cheek and chewing the kernel on the other side. It's not exactly a socially-acceptable talent to have, but through practice I've gotten pretty good regardless.

I don't really like the outdoors or my neighbors, but if I did, I'd sit on my porch in a rocker or something and go through bags of sunflower seeds while people-watching, I guess. That's probably what I'd do if I were of a different era. "There's ol' Whatsisname, the town recluse," they'd say, gesturing vaguely in my direction. "He's harmless enough. Just sits there, mostly. If you bring him a bag of sunflower seeds he'll tell you a weird story that don't make no sense about how he once bit William Henry Harrison. Don't pay him no mind though."

Did I ever tell you about the time I bit Bill Clinton? He was visiting my town and the Secret Service rounded up all the vagrants and ne'er-do-wells (ne'er-does-well?) and made us sweep the street for the Presidential motorcade because they were concerned that Bill might try jogging and trip over a stick or something. As a principle ne'er-do-well (ne'er-did-well?) I was philosophically opposed to street-sweeping as an occupation, so I was trying to sabotage my broom by drinking sloe gin and walking funny, and suddenly there was Bill Clinton, Slick Willie himself, staring me in the face with that slick look of his. At the time, we didn't know just how slick, but it still was pretty slick.

So naturally, being the bon-vivant (ne'er-doing-well?) and raconteur that I am, I felt it incumbent upon me to strike up a conversation, though I have to say that Bill wasn't the charismatic and ebullient character he's often made out to be. Mainly he kept saying that I was making a mistake, that he wasn't Bill Clinton at all but merely a janitor at the elementary school and would I please stop shouting. But I think we all know Slick Willie's games, so I didn't believe him.

My mouth was feeling terribly dry after all the talking I was having to do with this massive blowhard of a president, so obviously I had to take a sip or five of my tipple of choice, which I said was sloe gin but was actually just paint thinner that I had poures some lemon-scented Pledge into for flavor, if we're being totally honest with each other as friends should. It was akin to sloe gin, and that's what matters. I offered our twenty-third president a slug as well, being the friendly sort that I think we can all agree I am. Well, in the honesty I'm striving for, I didn't do much offer as I poured some down his throat, given that he was the goddamn seventeenth president of these United States and therefore couldn't be seen to be accepting strange liquor from a ne'er-do-well (ne'er-do-better?) as myself, which I understood.

Things get a little hazy at that point, probably because of the lingering head trauma, but when next we find ourselves, our intrepid hero is administering CPR to Mr. William Thomas Jefferson Clinton Rodham President with enthusiasm, because apparently Slick Willie can't handle his booze. There are crying children gathered around us for some reason. What crying children are doing in the street during a presidential motorcade I can't say, and why the Secret Service didn't enlist them to help gather sticks is uncertain, but what I can say is that Mr. William George Jefferson Clinton suddenly returned to the land of the living in a miracle, as your intrepid hero is many things but a knower of how to do CPR is not among them.

The police arrived and escorted me away, as they were bound to do. I mean, I'd just saved the life of the president. Ne'er-do-well indeed?! (E'er-do-well?) I expected a medal, but I guess goodness is its own reward.

Then later, at his second inauguration, I jumped onto stage and bit Bill Clinton because I didn't think much of his fiscal policy. You probably didn't hear about it. They kept it out of the papers.

Now there's your story. Where are my seeds?

Stop linking to Bluski posts please. I can't read them and I have no idea what most of you are talking about.

[EDIT TO ADD: This is totally my fault because I'm stupid and didn't remember I had Bluski installed on my phone. User error.]

This is the man whom they're mourning. This is the man who is the latest "victim" of a "spate" of "political violence," according to the media. This is the man the civility brigade is clutching their pearls over.

Rest in piss, fucko.

via @timberwraith

https://mastodon.social/@timberwraith/115186930350590652

I don't talk a lot about Palestine because I don't feel like I have anything useful to say, honestly. Israel is continuing to commit genocide, we all know it, and no one is doing anything about it. I guess I could keep saying that, but I'm not sure what purpose it serves.

I feel powerless about a lot of things, but Palestine in particular.

I had to send an important email to multiple receivers, so of course I'm stressing out about having accidentally sent it to the wrong people.

Love to log on to fedi, where half my feed will be, "Rest in power, milkshake duck!" and the other half will be, "Milkshake duck is a Nazi, y'all." It's like Twitter but without having to wait the requisite 15 minutes.

Since they won't let you see the Epstein Files, let me give you the rundown: Trump's in them. So are a bunch of other powerful people. As with the Panama Papers, it ain't gonna matter one iota because consequences are for poor people.

I have no ass and I must twerk.

Ok, this is a shot in the dark, but does anyone have any experience with scheduling software who could recommend a free way for me to create a rehearsal calendar taking into account various cast member's scheduling conflicts? I don't need to book rooms or anything complicated, I just want to be able to put in a list of people, check off the days when they're not available, and then filter.

Yes, I could do this by spreadsheet, but I'm tired of doing things manually. There is paid software which does this, but is there anything FOSS which might? I'd really prefer not to have to sign up for SaaS, and really I don't need to self-host. That's all too complicated. I just want to create a calendar ffs. It can't be that hard.

I just peeled and roasted 5 pounds of garlic, so I think my honorary ethnic person bona fides are in order.

I'm just kidding. I'm whiter than mayo on Wonder Bread and no amount of garlic will ever change that. But I have learned a few things via the process:

1. There's no good way to handle garlic. Whatever works for you is fine, but anyone who claims to have "solved" garlic is a filthy liar. Garlic is insoluble.

2. Get yourself a giant, comically-oversized cast iron garlic roaster. Make an afternoon of it. Roast all the garlic in the world, then freeze it. Doing it in small batches is the devil's business.

3. Ain't nothing better than roasted garlic on demand. There are plenty of things which are just as good, but nothing better.

4. You're not using enough garlic. Trust me. Everyone else wants to tell you but they're too polite. I don't care, so I can be blunt. Use more garlic.

5. Most people suck. This isn't really something I learned while roasting a metric fuckton of garlic, but a lot of people suck. Not y'all though. Shine on, you funky diamonds.

6. If you find yourself peeling a lot of garlic and you wish your hands didn't smell like Italy's backwash afterwards, buy yourself a cheap piece of stainless steel in the shape of a bar of soap and rub it on your hands when you wash them. It really does work.

7. Do not, repeat, do not make your own garlic paste. It'll give you botulism. You can freeze cooked garlic but storing raw, processed garlic is bad news. Please don't do it. I didn't learn this from personal experience, but it's worth repeating.

Oh honey, they're not going to keep those "illegals" they're "concentrating" sitting around doing nothing. They're going to sell their labor (read: them) to private contractors who will soon have those "concentrated" (read: enslaved) people doing exactly the same thing they were doing before they were concentrated, only without paying them, with no oversight, and with no choice in the matter.

#subtoot

No, but seriously, that's the endgame here. Arbeit macht frei. There will probably be extermination camps too, for the unprofitable, but the Nazis worked a lot of people to death and if you don't think that's in the playbook for our current iteration, I have a bridge I can let you have at cost.

And the thing is, folks, they're already doing it. And I know it pains you to have to realize this, but it's perfectly legal. Anything you allow them to do to prisoners, they'll eventually get around to doing to you. Slavery is still legal. The Thirteenth Amendment says, and I quote:

Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, *except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted,* shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

(emphasis mine)

Why do you think minorities, particularly Black men, are disproportionately represented in the prison population? Why do you think "For-Profit Prisons" (read: plantations) are a thing? Why does the United States have a prison population which dwarfs other countries?

So no, your vegetables are still going to get picked. There might be some initial disruption as the system kicks into gear, but you'll have to shoulder the burden for that just like you've shouldered the burden for other "supply-line disruption" (read: corporate profit margin expansion) in the past. Hell, given this country's treatment of its indentured worker population (read: undocumented laborers) in the past, for some of them I doubt the situation will change all that much, at least at first.

At first.

By all means, get up in arms about this. This is a big step on the road to Auschwitz-Birkenau. We're basically already at Auschwitz, we just haven't quite gotten to the extermination camp part yet. We will though. Useless mouths can't be allowed.

Not to mention that our modern-day fash are gloves-off. They don't give a flying fuck whether Johnny Poor gets his vegetables, particularly since most Johnny Poors have thrown in their lot with fascism because of bigotry. If you're expecting a come-to-Jesus moment for the poor white bigots of this country when prices get higher, I regret to inform you that past history doesn't give you much ground to stand on in that regard. Johnny Poor has cheerfully voted against his own self-interest in order to fuck brown people for as long as there's been a goddamn country. Johnny Poor is going to march willingly to the camps just as long as he can see a Black queer woman ahead of him in line at the gas chamber.

Sorry.

@bipolaron
If a stone looks at Reverse Medusa it gets turned into flesh, but since stones don't have eyes, that happens very rarely.

The reason why you think that in the 1950s everyone was doing well financially with only one breadwinner is that you're ignoring the unpaid labor of women and the subjugation of minorities. I'm not saying that we're doing better off now than they were then, but the reason why white families could afford houses and cars and vacations is not utterly divorced from sexism and racism, shall we say? #subtoot