John Burwell aka deet shared 5 months ago

The first one to tip this post gets to go grocery shopping with me. You can pick out the gravy

Legit checking things off my grocery shopping list on my Newton MessagePad 120.

Which apparently Siri still knows how to automatically capitalize.

And, yes, reporting it via my pocket supercomputer

Area man searches for cookie, remembers having eaten it already

Which was the puckish, maniacal mythological Greek god who went around putting articles about Steely Dan in people’s feeds, forcing them to listen to Pretzel Logic

The economy, a system for converting the labor of non-owning users into the convenience of non-using owners

What new information could change your mind about any of this? What specifically are you undecided about, and what new data are you awaiting before you establish your conclusion?

Or are you binging news just to grasp at hope?

Are you finding hope?

John Burwell aka deet shared 6 months ago

My vibe is That Talking Robot Episode of Columbo

Hi yes, I’m on the go and I need to manage a personal information. Do you take Newton Pay

This… (waves hands) …this is all true

John Burwell aka deet shared 6 months ago

When I was first listening to Pink Floyd, when I was younger, I misheard the line in Money as “new car, copier, four star daydream…” and was like, yeah if I was rich I’d get a copier too

I wonder if there are any cool new computer programs I can load

So far, the Internet has turned out to be an incredibly advanced and complex yet efficient machine for such a simple task as converting money into bullshit

That scene in Succession where they throw all the expensive uneaten seafood straight into the trash, except it's Apple's WWDC team and Vision Pro sessions… and instead of Logan going "Pizza! We'll have Pizza!" it's Tim going "AI! we'll have AI!"

One Night Only! GOVERNMENT SUBSIDY and the HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SALTS

All right! Who's ready for … whoaaoaoaoaoa!!! (comically slips and falls in puddle of gravy)

… gravy?

END SCENE

I rise as she sleeps

In the gray dawn, silent

But for the cracking of my bones