my favorite quirk of British politics is that you technically aren’t allowed to resign from parliament, so they appoint you to a whimsical fake office to make you ineligible to serve
Obrigado, Sam Neill, por olhar pra uma paisagem vazia com tanta emoção que me fez acreditar, naquela sala escura de cinema em 1993, que dinossauros eram reais
To everyone so eager to cancel someone for a tattoo they got at age 22, a drunk text, a selfie they took in the middle of a mental health crisis:
Show us your laptop.
Show us your iCloud.
Open your entire digital life to your worst enemy. No context. No filter. No explanation.
You won’t.
You won’t because you know what I know. Any one of us, frozen at our worst moment, photographed in our lowest hour, looks like a monster. Looks like a stranger. Looks like someone who deserves to be cast out.
That is not who we are.
My mom and baby sister were killed in a car accident when I was just a kid. Cancer took my brother Beau, my best friend and my rock. I battled alcoholism. I battled addiction. I chose the coward’s way out more times than I can count.
For years I believed the defining chapters of my life were written by tragedy, loss, and shame.
I no longer believe that.
Pain can shape us. Loss can humble us. Failures can leave scars that never fully fade. But none of them have the authority to define us.
And it sure as hell ain’t the critic that counts.
That authority belongs to us alone-the person in the arena.
Every setback presents a choice. Play the victim, or cut the bullshit and take ownership for who we become next.
Life does not determine our character. It reveals it.
Again and again we are asked the same question. When shit happens, what next?
We are not defined by what happened to us. We are not defined by the worst photo, the worst text, the worst tattoo, the worst night. We are defined by the person we choose to become. And by the courage to choose that person, every single day.
So before you reach for the gavel - show us your laptop.
You won’t.
The whole world saw mine. And I am still here. Still becoming. Still choosing. Still standing.
That is the only definition that matters.
@tolstoybb This is their standard policy, since forever, in ww2 they even shoot down American & British planes alongside the German ones who violated their airspace.
Here's the technical interview question I'd actually ask.
Suppose you have 5 MB of text, how would you count the words? What about 5 GB, TB, PB, EB? When would your approach change and why?
What if you had to do it once, or once a week, day, hour, or second?
Btw, there's an elegant proof that if a monoid has an identity element 'ε', there could only be one such element.
By definition, if M is a monoid, ∀x. x∈M, (1) x ⊕ ε = x and (2) ε ⊕ x = x
So if we assume two different neutral elements ε₁ and ε₂, we get
ε₁ ⊕ ε₂ = ε₁ (by rule 1)
ε₁ ⊕ ε₂ = ε₂ (by rule 2)
Therefore ε₁ = ε₂
Sorcerer (1977) from William Friedkin, the same director who made The French Connection and The Exorcist, got absolutely buried by bad timing and bad luck. What survived is one of the tensest thrillers of the 70s & it still hits like a truck today.
@Nora53943781220@JoeShelton2429@grok A Chinese torture chamber story, Category III, Hong Kong movie. They were made in the dozens back in the 90s. Also one of the first viral shocker clips of the early internet era - pre youtube early 00s. https://t.co/3ryrOmm0uN
In the future, you'll have to explain to your kids that anime was an art form made by an extinct race of serene beings that excelled at art and manufacturing and always took pride in their work.
And then they just decided to disappear one day.