I’m up early, I look out the window, and what do I see? Snow.
It has been warm and pleasant, except for the last few days, which have been chilly and windy. I was starting to see spiders around the yard again, but now — they’re probably huddled deep in crevices and whatever shelter they can find, waiting out this doggedly persistent winter.
They won’t have long to wait. The forecast is for 31°C on Wednesday.
I needed a morning shot of cynicism, so naturally I turned to stderr, where I learned all about bunkers.
As a former security guy, it’s hard to imagine an end-user who’s worse than the current dumbass-in-chief. He’s the kind of idiot who would post photos including the GPS co-ordinates. Not because he’s a 5G warfare expert, but because he’s 6G stupid. The 5G AIs are still cycling in tight loops printing “brain hurts brain hurts brain hurts brain …” over and over.
So, it looks like Turnip has completely blown the cover of an extremely expensive op that was going to be concealed as a ballroom with cost and labor overruns, while building a new continuity of government/nuclear bunker AKA “bolthole for the idiots who started a nuclear war.” This all started to go into overdrive during the Eisenhower administration. That was when Camp David was turned into a nuclear bunker (or, more precisely, the golf course covers a nuclear bunker). You can learn a lot more about this in the book [wc] Raven Rock, which does not talk much about Raven Rock, but talks a lot about Mt Weather, and Camp David and The Greenbrier. The Greenbrier, now, is mostly declassified and you can even visit it. It’s on my list of things to do, someday, but I am trying to find suitable company – you can’t go to that kind of place alone, you need someone with you who can look at the hinges you are pointing to and nod and whisper, “overpressure relief.”
I can appreciate that. I’d want Marcus Ranum as my tour guide at any government facility. Go read the rest to learn more about these depressing monuments to smug futility.
I needed more — it’s warm, the sun is shining, but my knees are aching and I need the grimness so I don’t try to dance — so I read about the wedding industry on TikTok. If you really want to harsh your mellow, it’s a tossup whether nuclear war bunkers or wedding influencers are worse.
There are a few industries that prey on emotion particularly brazenly. The funeral industry is one. The wedding industry is another. I knew this going in. I thought I could defeat hundreds of years of socially ingrained pressure backed by a multi-billion dollar consumer machine. No problem.
That got me thinking…if I really want regular reminders that the world sucks, I just need to tickle the algorithm just right. There’s no way I could convince TikTok or Instagram that I’m a blushing bride, but hey, I could easily induce funeral TikTok to lavish some attention on me.
If you suddenly see my instagram feed filling with posts about death and funeral planning, don’t worry — I’m feeling fine. I’ll be teasing the ghouls, nothing more.
If you have suggestions for better topics to fuel a morbid streak, do let me know. Not politics — I already know what a graveyard of hope that is right now.
I just submitted the official university paperwork resigning from my appointment as of April 2027. One more year, and then I’m outta here.
Don’t ask me how I feel about it yet. Ask me a year from today, when it gets real.
Right now I’m mainly stressed about the fact that Boeing sent me a letter saying they overpaid on my mother’s death benefits, and they want $5000 back right now. On the one hand, that’s peanuts for Boeing, they can go overcharge the government for a bolt to get that money back; on the other hand, do I really want to get in a fight with Boeing?
OK, gang, help me out here. I’m swamped today — my morning is destroyed because I have to go in to the clinic for my annual thorough extensive physical check-up, and I get out just in time for my afternoon class, and then I’m free, sort of. Except that I have to compose a 10 question online quiz on chromosome variations.
So give me some good questions on deletions, duplications, inversions, and translocations. Preferably questions that can be easily machine-scored, but I do throw in an essay question or two.
Get to work. I’ll expect them in the comments section here when I get back at 1:30.
Don’t disappoint me.
“Nac Mac Feegle! The Wee Free Men! Nae king! Nae quin! Nae laird! Nae master! We willna’ be fooled again!”
It’s almost spring-like outside — the skies are clear, we’ve got cool breezes on a comfortable day, the plants are coming back… I know it can’t last but I’ll make the most of it. I’ve opened windows to let birdsong in and to drive the cat crazy.
Let the pleasant conversations flow!
Alan Dershowitz wants to sue Bassem Youssef — actually, he kinda wants to sue everyone. Alan doesn’t seem very smart, though, because with his ugly history he should avoid the public eye. He should especially avoid targeting skilled comics and satirists.
That was satisfying, and I learned many new things about Dershowitz. He seems to have made a career of rushing to the aid of high profile, wealthy sleazebags.
Ed Brayton and I set up freethoughtblogs as a cooperative venture. Although we did try running ads to bring in some revenue, ads proved to be intrusive and obnoxious — blog ads tend to play all kinds of stupid games to get your attention — so we gave up on that. So right now the site runs in the red, just a little bit, and that’s OK. My Patreon account covers the server cost just fine, and I’m not interested in profit.
By comparison, take a look at the financials for Truth Social.
Trump Media & Technology Group burned through a staggering $712 million last year while bringing in a mere $3.7 million in revenue, a ratio as upside-down as Trump has turned the country.
There’s no actual business here, just a megaphone for a doddering old man.
To be fair, you could also call Pharyngula “a megaphone for a doddering old man,” but at least I’m not blowing $700 million to keep it running. I suspect there’s an interesting leak in the money pipeline that is diverting donations from billionaires to inflate that budget, and that leak is spilling money into Trump’s pocket, so it’s not a real loss to him.
I’m going to have to get a few more patreon followers if it costs hundreds of millions to run a website.
I’m also triggered by the phrase “scientifically accurate.”
The commenters here are persuasive. I
I loathed it.
Sorry.
The premise is garbage. Weir postulates an “astrophage,” a bacterium that harvests carbon from Venus and then streams to the sun, “eating” the sun, collecting vast amounts of energy, dimming the sun, and threatening humanity with extinction within decades. They send a probe to the line flowing between Venus and the Sun and collect the mysterious black particles, bring it back to Earth, and a middle school science teacher looks in a microscope and figures out that it’s an organism that harvests energy from stars.
Stop right there. I’d appreciate it if someone could justify that plot hook, which wouldn’t have been out of place in a 1950s hack disaster movie. It’s stupid.
Then astronomers notice that all the local stars are experiencing this same mysterious dimming. The “astrophage” must be infectious! Let’s not concern ourselves with the timing: we observe a rapid phenomenon occurring within the lifespan of a single human being simultaneously in a population of stars scattered over a volume 100 light years across. There’s a complete lack of awareness of space and time in this movie.
Humanity’s response is to quickly build a spaceship to fly to the one star, Tau Ceti, that isn’t exhibiting the mysterious dimming to see if they can find a “cure”. Fortunately, the “astrophages” also store such a tremendous amount of energy that they can form a fantastic, near-magical rocket fuel, enabling the construction of a starship that can travel at something near light-speed. This is the kind of exotic nonsensical space fuel you’d find in a 1930s pulp novel.
The plan is to send a small crew with one engineer, one pilot, and one scientist to a star 12 light years away, to collect information about how Tau Ceti was resisting the infection, and then return to Earth with a solution. That’s going to take at least 24 years round-trip, to deal with a crisis that’s going to doom Earth in 30 years. My problem was that my mental calendar was getting hopelessly lost by this time.
Then the scientist who is expected to lead this critical mission to stop human extinction was the middle school science teacher. This teacher is the charming, charismatic, appealing Ryan Gosling. We’re doomed if that is our selection criterion.
The ship takes off. Next thing we know, Ryan Gosling wakes up from an induced coma (that’s how humans can survive a 12 light-year trip?), the two other crew members have died — no explanation provided, but nice to know pilots and engineers are superfluous — and Gosling has amnesia.
That’s just the setup for the main part of the story, and it’s such radically nonsensical and unscientific garbage that I felt like walking out, and only stayed in my seat by virtue of Ryan Gosling’s charm and the curiosity and need to find out how the story would crawl out of this mass of sewage.
No spoilers. You’ll have to suffer as I did if you want the answers.
Short answer: Gosling finds a cute chatty alien who is there for the same purpose, and they team up. Don’t worry, there’s none of that complicated first-contact rigamarole to establish communication — they just point at things and say words and use a computer to compile a dictionary. Quickly. Mostly off-screen. Can’t let the whole alien complication that Weir has introduced get in the way of the whole star-eating space bacteria problem that Weir introduced!
Gosling also has a Weir staple: a white board that he can scribble on to solve science problems. For example, Gosling discovers a problem that will make the alien’s spaceship break down on the way to its home in 40 Eridani. So he scribbles some stuff on the white board and decides to fly off to the rescue, and somehow find this stranded spaceship somewhere between Tau Ceti and 40 Eridani. Are you surprised to learn that he does? Spaceships are easy! All you need for interstellar navigation is a white board and a collection of colored markers, and a pilot with no training who was hired on the basis of his entertaining middle-school science classes.
Ryan Gosling is a good actor who gave a great performance in an unbelievable role, and the alien (named Rocky) was amusing and somewhat original, but you will never, ever, ever, ever convince me to see another movie based on an Andy Weir book. He’s a hack.
Jesus christ, that movie was fucking stupid.
