Call off the search, the missing submersible has been found.

The ROV found a nose cone from the submersible that led them to finding a large debris field that was from the vessel, Rear Adm. John Mauger told reporters. “That was the first indication that there was a catastrophic event,” he said.

It was a catastrophic implosion.

The good news: the passengers’ demise was very, very, very quick, and they probably didn’t even realize what was happening.

We’re in the countdown phase: newspapers are now reporting estimates of the number of hours of oxygen left in the device. That’s like estimating the degree of misery and suffering five people might currently be experiencing on the basis of practically no information.

What little information we do have tells me that all five are dead and died virtually instantaneously. The stories that matter are about the shortcuts and problems this company’s submersibles. Did you know that little porthole in front was only rated for a depth of 1300 meters while the big carbon fiber tank was going down to 4000 meters? Oops.

The tourist submersible that went missing while exploring the Titanic wreck was previously the target of safety complaints from an employee of OceanGate, the parent company that owns the sub and runs tourist expeditions of the wreck. That employee complained specifically that the sub was not capable of descending to such extreme depths before he was fired.

That’s according to legal documents obtained by The New Republic. According to the court documents, in a 2018 case, OceanGate employee David Lochridge, a submersible pilot, voiced concerns about the safety of the sub. According to a press release, Lochridge was director of marine operations at the time, “responsible for the safety of all crew and clients.”

I’ll make two bold predictions: 1) the submersible and its occupants are the victims of a catastrophic implosion. 2) Hoo boy, the lawsuits that are about to land on OceanGate means that company will catastrophically cease to exist.

I’ve seen that chess movie with Anya Taylor-Joy, and now I have lived it.

It’s true. She totally crushed me. I could say that I haven’t played chess in 30 years, but it won’t help, since Iliana had never played it before at all.

Minnesota is a fine state, with one great flaw: we’re nowhere near an ocean. It’s about as far from a seacoast as you can get.

At least Knut got to spend Fathers Day at the Pacific Ocean.

I wish someone would take me to the beach.

I don’t have a father anymore, and I miss him all the time. If you got one, give him a call!

I spent the weekend with my daughter and granddaughter (National Grandparents Day is on Sunday, 10 September, my wife’s birthday, so that’ll be easy to remember), and Skatje fixed a delicious dinner of fish and mushrooms, while Iliana made festive mudcakes. I haven’t heard from my oldest son yet, but that’s better than what my other son did — he called to tell me he’s going camping at the Mora Campground near La Push, and he didn’t invite me! I’m very upset. I love that part of the world.

He also reminded me of one time I was camping out that way with my brother, Jim, and how we got soaked in the constant rain there and drove into Forks to get cheeseburgers. It’s weird how the older you get, the more associations every bit of dirt on the planet acquires, and everything keeps bringing back old memories.

Anyway, Jim’s dead now too, and he left behind 3 kids who I hope are all remembering him today.

Now I need to go recover from hours of driving and an exhausting 4 year old.

Silvio Berlusconi, Italy’s own proto-Trump, is dead.

One less flamboyant, sexist crook in the world.

I’d practically forgotten about him, but yeah, sure, taking out the garbage, good. But really, I’m beginning to feel like Death is procrastinating. Henry Kissinger is right there in New York! No more lesser evils until you’ve cleaned up the big one.

PAT ROBERTSON IS DEAD! Everyone must dance.

He really was an awful person. It’s just too bad he lived to spew lies for 93 years.

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Rebecca Watson reams out his corpse.

I took this little survey in the Washington Post that takes into account your income, number of dependents, and region of the country you live in, and it tells me that I am officially and totally middle class. I’m right smack in the center of the arbitrarily defined boundaries that delimit “middle class” — and that the way I got to this point was by getting rid of those pesky kids who were holding me back. Fifteen years ago, I discovered, I was way down deep in lower middle class territory.

Your household has a middle-class income, and you have the financial security associated with the middle class. Your income is similar to others in your Zip code above the median for rural Minnesota. Rural Minnesota is an inexpensive place to live, and you would still be considered middle income anywhere in the country.

It’s a comfortable place to be, but there is no hope that I will ever be wealthy. That’s good enough.

I won’t ask you what class you fall into, because only a grifter cares about that sort of thing.