Grain And Salt

wurst-case scenario modeling.
grain of salt included.

[Lu for Alaska @luinalaska]

This seems like the perfect time to bring up the great Shane Gillis for a word in chat.

[signüll @signulll]

you're telling me anthropic & google are paying spacex ~$26b a year for compute?!!

this is more than half the run rate of openai & anthropic just from compute deals & that doesn't even factor in the rocket launches at all.

elon accidentally ended up owning a significant portion of three of the scarcest assets in ai.. power, chips, & physical deployment capability. the best lesson here is that if you’re selling picks & shovels during a gold rush, you don’t necessarily need to find the gold. you just need everyone else to keep digging. & also non software elon is pretty much unstoppable, like prime michael jordan type thing.

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@chrisboettcher9 @draftcheat Your kids can't wait to be away from you. "Why won't Dad just leave us alone and let us play with our friends".

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@hopes_revenge @funplings @kenthecowboy_ > which is a common incel trope

It doesn't happen?

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@HilltopHorror @DavidAFrench > I'm actually pretty centrist in my politcs. Former early Obama-era progressive.

Right, like I already said... a Joss Whedon Dem. Supports the right causes, supports abuse of women.

Bulwark makes sense. Allies of the pedo abusers at Lincoln Project.

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@HilltopHorror @DavidAFrench Oh no, you can't read. I didn't call you an abuser. I just said you'd make them proud for defending one. But leftist creep misogynists are nothing new. You have a strong Joss Whedon energy

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@HilltopHorror @DavidAFrench I'm sure every abuser is proud of you

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@pmarca VC's what?

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@HilltopHorror @DavidAFrench No you're right. Nice people excuse domestic violence kidnapping charges. Mean people insult people who excuse domestic violence kidnapping charges. You've got it nailed!

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@razibkhan > "he twisted her arm behind her back, shoved her into a bedroom and held the door closed from the other side so she couldn’t get out."

This is illegal

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

It is literally criminal kidnapping moron

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@SGTHARDON @DrInsensitive No, it doesn't

[Khan Noonien Singh @wtfcetialpha5]

You only think about yourselves.

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@MacabreMacaw @ExposingHamas @DiogenesOfTron That would be a better deal than what the original Arabs did: conquer by the sword and murder everyone in their way.

Why not do the same back to them?

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

USA. A restaurant. I could not finish my meal, and I bowed my head in shame.

Then they handed me a box, and I nearly wept.

The plate had been enormous. I am a samurai; I do not surrender to food. But this was a siege, and halfway through I knew I could not win. I set down my fork. In my country, to leave food on the plate is to insult the rice, the farmer, the cook, and your own ancestors, roughly in that order. So I sat there, quietly making peace with my dishonor.

Then the waitress smiled and said the most beautiful sentence I have heard here.

"You want a box for that?"

A box. To take it. Home.

I went still.

"You would save it?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course. It's still good."

It's still good. Three words my grandmother said to me a thousand times, across an ocean, in another language, over a bowl I was not allowed to leave.

I had crossed the world expecting to find everything different here. And a stranger in an apron had just handed me my grandmother's exact heart, in a small paper container, without knowing she had done anything at all.

I took the box. I held it like a newborn. I bowed to her, to the cook, and to the half a sandwich within, which would now live to see another day.

That night I ate it by a window, slowly, the way you eat something that was nearly lost. It was, if anything, better the second time. Everything saved is.

So now I order too much on purpose. Not from greed. From faith. Because I have learned that here, the same as home, a meal does not end when you are full.

It ends when the box is empty.

And the box is never empty the same day.

Which means a good meal can last forever,

as long as someone, anyone, still believes it is too good to waste.

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@xwanyex The latter is far less likely to torment the life of others than the former

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

In America, a stranger will rename you in a single breath, and you are simply expected to come when called.

I went to eat at a busy restaurant. A young man at the front asked for my name, to mark my place in line. I gave it the weight it has carried for eight hundred years.

"Nobunaga."

He smiled, nodded, and wrote it down with great confidence. Then he read it back to me, to be sure he had honored it correctly.

"Perfect. Banana, party of one."

Banana. He had heard my name, held it a moment, and returned to me something rounder and more cheerful. To refuse the name a host gives is to refuse his welcome. I bowed. I was Banana now.

Then he handed me a small black disc, said it would "light up and buzz" when my table was ready, and turned to the next guest as though he had not just placed a living thing in my hands.

I held it in both palms, the way one holds a small sleeping beast that may wake. I found a place to stand. I waited, ready.

It woke.

It screamed. It flashed red. It leapt and shook in my hands like a captured spirit demanding release. A lesser man would have dropped it. I did not. I gripped it, steady, looked into its blinking lights, and told it, in a low voice, that its time had come. Then I carried it back to the host with both hands, the way one returns a hawk to its master.

He took it without looking and shouted across the entire room.

"BANANA! Party of one, your table's ready!"

A hundred strangers turned. I rose. I crossed that floor as Banana, spine straight, chin level, a man answering to his name. A child pointed at me. I gave the child a small bow. He had recognized me.

All through the meal they kept me. "How's it tasting, Banana?" "More water, Banana?" The check, when it came, said Banana, and thanked me for visiting. By the end the whole staff knew me. They waved as I left. "Night, Banana!"

So tell me honestly.

For eight hundred years my clan answered to one name. Tonight I answered to a fruit, calmed a screaming relic in my bare hands, and ate among people who were glad I came.

When the little disc lights up, is the table truly mine, or am I only keeping it warm for the next Banana?

Because I have already decided to return on Friday, and to ask, very humbly, for the same disc.

[Grain And Salt @ThreadbareModel]

@DonaldToli66380 @coldhealing @PaulSkallas This isn't really English so not sure how to respond