

There is none. And that is incredibly liberating. Choose your own path and do what makes you feel good (without harming others).
There is none. And that is incredibly liberating. Choose your own path and do what makes you feel good (without harming others).
Same. I occasionally happen to leave the house with only sunglasses and then I’ve got no other choice if I want to look at a menu behind a counter or somesuch. I still tend to take them off first inside and then go through this little dance in front of the staff where I theatrically put them on in an attempt to ensure that everyone understands my predicament. I’m British after all.
The vast majority of tax in most countries is paid by those with higher incomes. In the US the top 1% of earners pay more than 40% of the tax collected and almost all the tax (97%) is paid by the upper half of earners.
In the UK the numbers are a little different, but tell the same story (top 1% pays around 30%, top 10% pays around 60% of all tax collected).
So while I know you mean relatively and not absolutely it’s still worth spending at least one minute to consider how much of the tax burden is actually shouldered by the wealthy.
I come from a Scandinavian country and I’m ALL in on redistribution, free education, free healthcare etc. But let’s not have politics ignore the facts.
That doesn’t sound like the 1%. There are 3.6 million 1%ers in the US alone, by definition. Being in the 1% might you very comfortable but it won’t necessarily make you an evil overlord. For that I suspect you need to be in the 0.001% (meaning there’s 3600ish in the US, a more manageable group of absolute bastard. There aren’t 3.6 million disgustingly rich people in the US.
Calling cards. That’s how we did it. Cheap, international calls by pre-dialling another number first. Still cost a fortune.
It’s always been my philosophy that if crust really is such a chore, put it orthogonally on top of the next slice - there’s always too much cheese and tomato in the first mouthfuls of a new slice anyway.
People who don’t eat the pizza crust have no backbone and won’t survive the zombie apocalypse. And even if they do, they won’t be let into my post apocalyptic fortress, because they have no backbone which they have proven by not eating their pizza crusts.
In every job there is pleasure and pain. If you cannot stomach some doughy stumps or find a way to interleave the crust of your slice with the center of your next slice, you and I won’t be friends.
Before the age of 20: Made gunpowder and made our own enormous firecrackers/hand grenades, played with matches, climbed to the very top of very tall trees, whittled with knives all day long, cutting into high pressure car tyres with knives, made “bazookas” with firework rockets and shot them after other kids on the street, made petrol powered go-carts and raced them on public streets, disappeared out to play all day and came home for dinner, swam in lakes, climbed rocks with sheer drops into the bay, disturbed enormous ant-nests and got bitten all over (I’m sorry ants, that was a shit thing to do), dipped our fingers in melted wax, placed small stones on train tracks and waited for them to get pulverised, played a crazy game that involved throwing knives into the ground right next to bare feet, chopped firewood with sharp axes, burnt large holes in the carpet in my room (turned out a piece of tin foil was not sufficient insulation for burning sparker powder), did a lot of sleeping outside, threw each other into forests of nettles for fun, crawled through drain pipes running under the road, skateboarded down hills on country side roads, built our own skateboard ramp out of doors and nails that were sticking out ready to impale us, walked on thin ice because we liked the cracking it caused, did night time hikes through swamps, wild water rafting, sprayed burning gasoline out of bicycle pumps, played with aerosol cans and lighters, flew gliders age 15, got drunk a lot from 15 onwards (not at the same time as flying), took down the school computers with a homegrown “virus” (that’s being generous, a few scripts that modified autoexec.bat to make all the school’s computers print “teachers are dumb” instead of booting; it still caused them to call in “the experts”, got into fights and ended up going to A&E after being hit in the head with an iron rod, raided countless pear and apple plantations, played with magnifying glasses in the sharp sun and lit up a great deal of forest floors, rode cars down old train tracks, shot guns, shot air rifles, shot bows, shot cross bows, shot sling shots, maced each other, built large swings that threw us over a cliff side and four-five meter drops into water, played around inside a nuclear-protected naval bunker and accidentally activated the emergency lock down alarm, tipped over an army truck after being let out to to “do a bit of terrain driving” by our staff sergeant, set up and blew up 600 kg of TNT to demonstrate the effect of a MRLS cluster bomb in front of the Danish Queen (fun story, it blew her hat off from the pressure wave), fells asleep behind the wheel after a full day of firefighting training and ended up putting my army jeep into a field, made friends with a Soviet diplomat who tried to pump my brother and I for information about our dad’s job as a military attaché (unfortunately the colonel got sent home to Russia after being made persona non grata) - though he did teach us how to ski in the process, set up our own 380V electrics for a enormous LAN party we organised and electrocuted myself, dialled into a lot of weird BBSes to exchange all sorts of pirated software with anonymous network users, war-dialled various remote systems and tried to hack our way into them, drove all over Europe in various wrecks (accidentally smuggled weed over several international borders, which was especially frustrating as I didn’t touch the stuff and didn’t even know it had been brought), did magic mushrooms and had amazing times and dreadful bad trips (fuck MAO inhibitors), went exploring in a fenced off zone that carried nuclear warning signs (Paldiski, not long after the wall came down), detonated gas canisters of all shapes and sizes, etc etc
It was a fun childhood, to be honest, and I’m grateful for it.
real MVP right here.
It’s a pretty simple “acknowledged” to me. It’s a “I’ve not just seen your message, I’ve read it, and I have no further comments”.
I don’t think I’ve ever interpreted it as rude.
Ah right. But none of them are true forks, really. They still rely on the Firefox project to port features in etc.
100%. Firefox would be better off, I suspect, by focusing on the browser, solely, and with a distributed global team that didn’t need a fancy SF office and fancy SF comp packages.
Servo isn’t a functional browser. You’re not comparing apples to apples.
Which ones do you mean?
Yo ho, to the seas we go!!
I live outside of a big city in the UK. Many times I can ONLY get 2G.
Built in GPS always sucks, except for Stellantis who at least licenses software, maps from TomTom og Volvo who has built in Google. VWs are a dumpster fire.
It obviously depends on where they live and/or committed the crimes. But most countries have broad laws against anything, real or fake, that depicts CSAM.
It both because as technology gets better it would be easy for offenders to claims anything they’ve been caught with is AI created.
It’s also because there’s a belief that AI generated CSAM encourages real child abuse.
I shan’t say whether it does - I tend to believe so but haven’t seen data to prove me right or wrong.
Also, at the end, I think it’s simply an ethical position.
I had a soft spot for Icewind Dale’s soundtrack by Jeremy Soule.