Stated briefly: Kurzgesagt isn’t what it once was.

At least you didn’t put hundreds of accumulators in a box while you were waiting?

I played Doctor totally wrong in the dorms, it seems.

That dovetails nicely with the mental state of an undergrad. In my case, I did actually know everything back then.

Inflation makes it easy! I’d be curious what the stats look like in terms of raw butts in seats.

At least they didn’t first hear about it in someone else’s sociology class?

“Shit. That’s more single-family homes than I can own now.”

He always looked so laid back.

I heard he was retired and living like a king in Patagonia.

Is 2006 coming back? I’d prefer that, but MySpace as it existed then wouldn’t land the same way now.

I have a hard time equating “the LLM did what we told it” with “hacking.” But hey, let’s throw “escaped containment” in just to make it Serious™.

Always my goal.

The fact that “agrees to” was even part of the process tells you pretty much the whole thing.

Perhaps you can explain the connection between this AP story and the unrelated drug bust in Colorado as the link.

The TV bit is as flaccid as one expects from local news. Just standard “today’s reason to be afraid” fare … like, if you’re going to bring up the multiple moving violations that led to the drug dog, maybe list them.

Cats excel at this. I’m not sure I could pull it off at work.

Where I have to go …

Because a cat adopted me. Again.

Gold would disagree. That’s not a full forex explanation of everything, but about the time gold hit $5,000/troy ounce, selling my inheritance at $285/oz in the '90s for a ski vacation started to look short-sighted.

There’s also been a good job stateside of hiding the fact that the dollar has gotten weaker for decades. Some of the cost of an imported cheese can be tariffs, but when the dollar loses 50% of its value against the Swiss franc, Appenzeller is going to become more expensive.

Ethics?

It’s the sort of thing we’ve been dealing with for years in newsrooms, and the display copy here violates a hard rule: Never claim universality. In the '80s, you could say “everybody likes pizza,” and it was accepted as “most people like pizza.” But now it has to be a production. “Celiacs don’t!” “The lactose-intolerant don’t!” “Vegans don’t!”

Which is all well and good, but really? On no world did anyone on the editorial chain think “well, this will piss off vegans.” But I suppose we’re predisposed to pizza. How else can we tell it’s election night?

Many, many moons ago (but firmly in this century), Fred Meyer regularly had coupons in their circular on Banquet pot pies, three for $1, limit 6. Six pot pies, $2.

Now, each of these pot pies had, on the packaging, a coupon for a free game of bowling. Usual restrictions applied; shoe rental not included and limit two free games per person. Neither my girlfriend nor I had been bowling in years, and shoe rentals were like $1.50, so this seemed like a great way to go out on occasion while she enjoyed cheap pot pies at home (I have never been a fan of pot pies; closest you’ll get me is a quiche).

We went out, drank some beers and had a fucking cheap afternoon of entertainment. There was no way either of us had the stamina for more than two pathetic games of hurling a heavy sphere, so we called it good.

In time, this turned into a weekly thing, and it happened there was a closer alley that took the coupons as well. Well, one thing (and a birthday) led to another, and soon enough, I had my own ball and shoes, and we were looking at signing up for a league for fall. But we didn’t have a team of four.

That summer at the apartment complex was fun. I had one of those full-size Weber grills, and after grilling a couple of times in our “front yard,” we decided the courtyard made more sense. There were nine total units, and we knew most of the neighbours, at least in passing. Grilling caught their attention, and a few days in, another couple brings out a cooler and joins us, which turned into me lighting some coals every evening and people bringing out whatever they wanted to throw on.

So, we’re waiting on burgers and a tri-tip one evening when we mention the bowling thing. Turns out, they were also lapsed bowlers, so they asked if we could all still sign up. And we did have a couple of weeks, so that September, we started league. It was apparent from the standing from the outset that we were playing against (is it really “against” if you cheer for the team you’re playing?) far better bowlers than we were.

Lots of gutter balls, lots of bad jokes, lots of beer. And over the course of the season, we played each other team twice. By the second go, we knew which ones we’d had fun with and which ones thought their scores needed to be on a TPS cover sheet. And there may have been a bit of gossip between teams.

Show me where, in 2026, such a course of events can happen. This was only 20 years ago. I think league dues were $16 a week for each of us, and bowling league meant we could both bowl three games on Sunday mornings for $3.75, plus, there were cash prizes at the end of league.

In terms of dollars per hour of entertainment and expansion of weak ties, it was an excellent value.