It is, but it’s the functional kind. And the landlord doesn’t give a fuck about your problems so you got turn life’s lemons into lemon pepper chicken to pay that rent.

Oh it is. But there’s drugs and trauma-bonding, so that helps. Plus, it pays a few more bucks than minimum wage.

It also conveys a permanent +10 bonus to your rizz so you can sleep with the slutty front of house.

Somewhere between the borders of desperation and total burnout there is a sweet spot where you realize you are performing at a higher level than you ever have, higher than most ever will, and the satisfaction compensates for the lack of pay and the life destroying vices you need to employ in order to cope with the constant stress.

Good times.

Imagine straddling the line between performing at your absolute best, pushed to the limit of your abilities, and living in a complete horror show of a shift. All your cylinders are firing, your brain is running 110%, your body is alive. It is up to you, and the crew you trained, to impose order onto chaos by performing a complex symphony of actions in a tightly coordinated team.

Yes, tensions are high, but everyone is digging in, summoning their grit, and working together to tackle any upset in the highly demanding flow of food. There is laughing, cursing, anger, worry, joy, comradery. It’s a high drama marathon that challenges you, makes you perform at your best every day. You know the complete despair and panic when it falls apart and you know the sweet satisfaction as the rush dies down and you and your team did it, against all odds, once again.

When you look out the window and see the hordes of people eagerly awaiting to enjoy a great meal with their friends and family and you look over at the people already served and see the absolute bliss on their faces as they dig in…

You. You made that happen.

This is only the tip of the iceberg.

In a few years all pics, movies, music, books, news, anything and anyone you don’t see in person will be completely indistinguishable from AI. And most of it will be.

You won’t even know if the Senator’s face on your tv screen belongs to a real person.

The new front on the “war” for/on your minds will open. A culmination of all physical, informational, cultural, economic, narrative, and digital reality control systems will converge.

Even more so than now, people will have no choice but to embrace whatever schema of reality they can access because there will be no way to discern real truth from the manufactured.

Paranoia will eventually give way to a rather natural “double think” envisioned by Orwell. Tropey but nevertheless prophetic.

I think if you watched HyperNormalization you pretty much get the gist.

Just a daily reminder that if you want something great, especially if it is made great by the contributions of hundreds of people, it can’t be owned by a profit oriented business. If you don’t want that great thing to be taken away and/or used against you, the ownership has to remain in the hands of the people.

Oh shit, I haven’t seen the rolfcopter in years. That brings back some memories

They learned that lesson well before that which is a big part of why the 2008 crash happened.

Except for the sacrificial Richard Fuld (Lehman Brothers).

There probably hasn’t ever been a time in US history that the government hasn’t been in bed with financial ne’er-do-wells.

Huh, a hyper-reality reference out in the wild.

Remarkable

What the murmurs in the void are saying.

Don’t try to figure it out. Just. Leave. It. Alone.

This is possibly one of the greatest things I have ever laid eyes on.

Every single house for sale in my part of town is selling for TRIPLE the price it sold for 6 years ago. Interestingly almost all of them were sold, by different people, around 5 to 7 years prior.

I would prefer not to die alone. Not only for the company in probably one of, if not the biggest, scariest, event in someone’s life, but also because of the logistics. I’d hate to be going out, unable to move while laying on the kitchen floor, and desperately, deliriously, thirsty with 2 days worth of shit caked in my pants.

That said, if going alone seems to be the case, I’ll try to arrange things in advance and face it with some degree of stoicism.

Of course I do, it stands for Percentage of Commie.

These poor folks don’t even know in a free country you can wear jackets and shorts any time you like.

“Nice wheels. Wanna fuck?”

Pssh, amateurs.

Because of overlapping vectors of group socialization often contradict each other. What vector a person is subjected to first usually takes precedent until a more impactful one imposes a new structure. People are often introduced to church before they are old enough to understand politics.

People very rarely reevaluate their stances without some major life event forcing them to. Instead, they take the stances already taught to them by others and look around trying to find confirmations.

Prep cook at a small restaurant. Tell them you only want to work part-time and they’ll make it happen.

Then just put on your headphones and chop vegetables and meats for a few hours. Lowest stress position in a kitchen. And you usually have your own separate kitchen area and nobody will bother you.

‘smoking the jerk off crack’ is going in my lexicon.