I haven’t even read any communist stuff my ideology is “share and be nice” like the first two rules of a kindergarten
When you get out of kindergarten you might learn that stealing isn’t sharing.
Literally who is talking about stealing get outta here you absolutely giant jester
Do you know what redistribution means?
You sit back in your dark leather chair and run your fingers through your greying hair. You’ve just set up your preparations for owning some random kid on the internet and now all you have to do is wait for the fish to get the bait. You chuckle and close your eyes.
The door to your office opens up, letting in a flood of bright light from the world outside your cave, and a messenger stands squarely in the middle of the door frame.
“Telegram for giant jester!”
You walk over, take your telegram, and read.
“READ FIRST SENTENCE AGAIN STOP”
You smile confusedly and think it might be a mistaken delivery. You throw the telegram into the bin beside the door. The deliverer still stands like a gatekeeper, blocking the exit.
“Another telegram for giant jester!”
You think this is all very strange. People usually don’t send two in a row, and now this messenger won’t leave you alone. You are beginning to sweat lightly in your cheap cotton suit. You open this new telegram and read it.
“REDISTRIBUTION INVOLVES TAKING MONEY FROM PEOPLE WHO HAVEN’T WORKED FOR IT YOU THINK JEFF BEZOS MOVES EVERY PACKAGE HIMSELF THE BASTARD SITS THERE AND MAKES THE SALARIES OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE IN A MINUTE ALL BECAUSE HE EXPLOITS THE TIME AND ENERGY OF HIS WORKERS HOW IS THAT NOT STEALING WHY ARENT THE WORKERS GETTING PAID FOR THE EFFORTS THEY GIVE IN FULL”
You have no idea how the sender got all this text on one telegram sheet. You’re feeling queasy from this anomaly. The text is clearly too much for the sheet but it hovers delicately off the edge anyway. Youre unable to process the contents of the message due to a dark, evil sickness in your stomach. The sentry stands tall and firm at the doorway.
“One last telegram for G. Jester!”
Your shaking legs buckle and you fall to the oak floor and slowly rest yourself on your side. You pray to all the gods you know (and a few you don’t) that everything will be okay. You don’t understand what is happening. The messenger turns to you and begins to speak the telegram:
“No one was talking about stealing or redistribution anyway. You believed you were reading between the lines when in actuality you read past it, drifting off into space instead of staying with earthly affairs. And now you lay on the ground and beg with tears and snot soaking into the floor beams that we may spare you. Pathetic, isn’t it? You swung at a dummy and still managed to miss. Where is your sense of self respect? Of keeping your mouth shut when you need to? Did you lose it somewhere? Did you never have it in the first place? Why did you comment on this post in such a way as to assume the intent of its author when you clearly know so, so little about the world, about people, about yourself. We will leave you for now to contemplate on this.”
Your face sits in a puddle of bodily fluids as you watch the messenger dissipate slowly, burning up in holy and righteous fire. You don’t know what you have been visited by. But you feel that you should listen. Your world turns black. You dream of impossible architecture, horrible creatures, and inhuman languages.
Further adding to my justification for not debating my right-wing conservative relatives on issues of religion, history, politics, social equality, or climatology:
I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent.
PSA: never put stickers on your helmets (unless you have checked with the manufacturer) because the adhesive can weaken the structure!
One day my health teacher in middle school just like … didn’t show up for class. And so of course we were all “oh if he doesn’t show up in fifteen minutes we’re legally allowed to leave”, giggling about it and all the bullshit. He did eventually show up, ten minutes into the class time. He looked haggard as fuck, sweating all over, hair messed up, beaten to hell and back. We stared at him and were about to ask what in the world happened to him when he stopped in front of his desk and smacked his bicycle helmet down on it.
His helmet had this odd discolored patch on it. Like, white against white, but … weird? It’s then that I realized his helmet didn’t have a discolored patch, it had a patch missing. A big chunk of his helmet had just been shaved away, the curve of the helmet gone and sanded flat by whatever it had been scraped against. And running through that patch, from one side of the helmet to the other, was this big crack, like the whole helmet had split like an eggshell.
Our teacher took a couple deep panting breaths and then told our class: “And this,” he took another deep breath, “is why you always wear your helmet”.
And that’s the story of how an entire class of middle school students took helmet-wearing very seriously for the rest of their lives.
full offense but we seriously need to destroy the shitty toxic gamer culture that involves getting mad at newbie players for fucking existing.
like im sorry but shitting on noobs is fucking low ball and pathetic. Im so fucking sorry someone is more capable of having fun trying out a new game then you are mr edgelord
“lmao noobs should stop-” Maybe YOU should stop acting like your king of whatever game your playing get over youself and let other people have fun too
Youre not a fucking pro stop trying to act like you are just cause someone else is new to the game you play.
Stop giving people shit for what they play, too. Not everyone is into Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto.
Fucking good addition! Im super tired of gamer bros thinking they get to decide what games are cringy or not just because they only wanna play first person military games.
dude seeing these Mega high quality images of the surface of mars that we now have has me fucked up. Like. Mars is a place. mars is a real actual place where one could hypothetically stand. It is a physical place in the universe. ITS JUST OUT THERE LOOKING LIKE UH IDK A REGULAR OLD DESERT WITH LOTS OF ROCKS BUT ITS A WHOLE OTHER PLANET?
LIKE THIS JUST LOOKS LIKE IT COULD BE A PERSON’S BACKYARD. LIKE YEA A LITTLE DUSTY MAYBE THERE WAS A SANDSTORM BUT THAT’S COOL I’M JUST GONNA WALK DOWN TO THE STORE P S Y C H YOU’RE ON MARS BICH!
i hate to be rude and intrude on this post but we have decent pictures of the surface Venus too!
Samson was “a museum installation consisting of a 100-ton jack connected to a gear box and a turnstile. The 100-ton jack pushes two large timbers against the bearing walls of the museum. Each visitor to the museum must pass through the turnstile in order to see the exhibition. Each input on the turnstile ever so slightly expands the jack, and ultimately if enough people visit the exhibition, Samson could theoretically destroy the building.”
Artists are absolutely wild
That’s absolutely hilarious ngl
Bet the museum employees are secretly winding it back each night, like Penelope unraveling her day’s weaving
valar apologist 