Darrow’s Barn. Seriously, if you’ve never heard it, click the link, close your eyes, and just listen.
Darrow’s Barn. Seriously, if you’ve never heard it, click the link, close your eyes, and just listen.
I subbed to SuperbOwl as soon as it got posted in the new communities community :)
I’m always on All (my subscribed communities show up here as well), but I block any community I have absolutely no interest in, which alters the experience a bit.
The Mars Climate Orbiter crashed because some fuckwit programmer at Lockheed Martin programmed their tiny piece of software in freedom units, instead of metric like they were required.
Not mine, but the one where Michael Jackson is the love child of Diana Ross and Smokey Robinson caught my attention when someone posted it to reddit.
I’ve given money to both charities and people. Here’s the thing about donating, though: you’ll get on all sorts of mailing lists and shit, and you’ll get lots more begging letters, emails, phone calls and texts. You know those PBS/NPR donation drives, where they’re like “We just need ten more donors this hour, it doesn’t matter how much!” or those charities that send you pre-printed labels and say “Hey, just send us five bucks, that’s all we need”? Yeah, they’re harvesting your information. If you even send them a penny, they’ll be back for more, and they’ll sell or trade your information to other charities.
I give money to our local volunteer fire/ems department every year, but I don’t use their pre-printed mailer; I hand them cash when Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny come through on their trucks. I have one of those pre-paid Visa gift cards that aren’t tied to an actual person; if I do an online donation, I’ll use that and give them fake information. The money is legit, the information is good enough to pass, but they can’t come harass me for more.
This includes all donations, by the way - political, religious, civic, charity, social, whatever. Do it in cash or by an anonymous Visa gift card.
That there was a disembodied head that lived in the toilet at night.
Blue. Didn’t really envision a person, just the hand, didn’t notice the potential sex. It was a billiard ball on a pool table. The ball kinda rolled gently across the table at an angle, hit the side, and slowly rolled back before stopping.