foret!

[chuck 🏔 @crowcialist]

Scrolling IG stories

[“paula” @paularambles]

Consider, if you will, this peculiar Silicon Valley confession: “I worked for 36 hours with no sleep. Although I was dead, I also felt energized. I even fell asleep a few times while driving home in my Cybertruck, but fsd came in clutch. Happy thanksgiving.” People read this and say, “Wow, so crazy.” No. This is not crazy. This is ideology speaking in the first person.

Look at what he is really proud of. Not what he built, not the result. He is proud of his own exhaustion. He whips himself and calls it self-actualization. Before, the saint starved in the cave for God. Now, the engineer fasts from sleep for the billionaire.

And the best part, the truly obscene part, is the drive home. Here the machine steps in as what Lacan would call the big Other, the big adult in the room that keeps going while you collapse. You can be unconscious, half-dead, and still you are “productive,” because the car does the driving, the system does the watching. You close your eyes, the algorithm stays awake.

But notice the ideological twist: rather than confronting the absurdity of a society where one works until unconsciousness, the narrative is inverted. The same system that squeezes him until he is sleeping at the wheel also appears as his savior. This is pure capitalism. First it injures you, then it sells you the bandage, and you say thank you. You wreck yourself for one of the billionaire’s machines, then another one of his machines rescues your body on the drive home.

Which brings us to the “Happy Thanksgiving.” It is the final twist of the knife. Gratitude here is not for rest, or sanity, or enough sleep to drive safely. Gratitude is for the privilege of being exhausted in the right office, in the right hoodie, for the right man. You give thanks to the very structure that wears you down. It is like saying grace over your own burnout.

Thus the man who naps on the freeway is not a deviation. He is the ideal subject of our time. Half-alive, overworked to the point of being a public hazard, and then thanking the machine that keeps this madness just barely on the road. The system grinds him down, risks his life and the lives of everyone around him, and his reaction is not “this cannot go on,” but “I am so grateful.” In this one man in a Cybertruck you get the whole picture at once: exploitation, technology and holiday cheer condensed into a single, obedient “thank you.”

[MALIK. @maliktheoracle]

This guy wanted me to invite yall to his cigarette party next week

[foret! @msjchun]

@timhwang There is definitely one item on the menu that is world class, but is impossible to discover outside of happenstance

[derek guy @dieworkwear]

Oyster or scrambled eggs? Tobasco

Mexican food? Cholula or Tapatio (I prefer Valentina)

Southern fried chicken? Crystal or Louisiana Hot Sauce

Thinking of clothes and hot sauces as cultural languages allows you to consider how things can be combined without falling into the trap of ethnic absolutism. Much like how English, Japanese, and Spanish languages are governed by their own spelling and grammar rules, which allow you to create beautiful sentences, but no language is inherently better than the others.

[StripMallGuy @realEstateTrent]

I miss San Francisco.

I miss Crissy Field. The Marina Green.

I miss that walk along the water at sunset, with all that green to your left, the water to your right, and the sight of that huge surreal orange bridge up ahead.

The Italian sandwich spots in north beach. The insane views from Russian Hill.

Getting lost in the Presidio, or Golden Gate Park for hours at a time.

The parrots flying above Alta Plaza Park.

I miss the sand dunes at Ocean Beach.

All those little stores in the mission that sell the most random things that you can’t help but check out over and over again, even though you’re not really sure what they are.

I miss running into some of the best coffee spots in the world everywhere you turn.

The feeling that you’ve gone back in time as you wander through the Haight-Ashbury and walk by stores that somehow survive selling nothing but tie-dye clothes.

I miss hiking around Lands End, in disbelief that place exists on earth.

I miss the time-worn but perfect hole-in-the-wall Chinese food restaurant you can’t get enough of.

I miss walking into the Ferry Building on a Saturday morning and wanting to sample from every single one of those little shops, and then existing out to a picture perfect farmers market along the water.

I miss that stunning downtown view that rises you out of nowhere as you head up highway 280.

I miss the electric energy of a crowded Dolores Park on a sunny day, and guessing just what crazy thing that next vendor is going to walk by with.

I miss the occasional movie at the Castro Theater, and that hilarious vibe as you’re heading inside.

I miss walking up to one of the most beautiful ballparks ever built, and that smell of garlic that sharply greets you as you enter.

I miss the throwback steakhouse vibe of The House of Prime Rib.

Or occasionally putting on my tourist hat and heading down to Fisherman’s Wharf or over to Alcatraz; two places where you’re guaranteed to never run into anybody you know.

I miss zipping down Franklin St and timing it so the lights all turn green just as your car approaches the intersection.

I miss the authenticity of Chinatown.

I miss how the wind sounds as you ride the ferry across the bay to Sausalito. Talk about a bucket list experience.

I even miss hearing those loud kids that crowd The Tipsy Pig all day, screaming at the top of their lungs as that fifth drink starts to hit them.

I miss that it never gets too hot, and that picturesque layer of fog that settles just above the water, even when it hangs around for just a few weeks too long.

I miss the eclectic mix that makes up the people of San Francisco, and the passion they have for their city.

And most of all, I miss the enthusiasm and the optimism, even within a city that has always had its challenges.

The people who live there are there because they know there are better days ahead.

They know they live in a special place.

It’s been down before, but there are just too many great things about it to ever count it out.

San Francisco will be back.

And it will be better than ever.

It’s an American national treasure.

It’s a place we should all be rooting for.

[foret! @msjchun]

I see my future and it’s bright

[Vanessa Friedman @VVFriedman]

It’s take your dog to Chanel day.

[shaurya @shauseth]

“no updates from my end”

[derek guy @dieworkwear]

are men allowed to be warm?

[foret! @msjchun]

Perfect

[foret! @msjchun]

Hooray, it’s Friday! xo Juju

[melissa lozada-oliva @ellomelissa]

writing should be hard lmao. you’re supposed to be stuck. life is painful and then gives way to beauty you losers. we are going to create a bunch of people who feel miserable bc they don’t have the satisfaction of the labor of making something. efficiency is boring.

[foret! @msjchun]

Wishing you a terrific weekend! x Juju

[foret! @msjchun]

The phenomenon of Wedding Nails: pearl embellishments, the chrome trend, maybe a colour analysis on the most chosen pinks and neutrals

[foret! @msjchun]

I hate (almost all) nail art. One important sub-point is that serious ~design~ nail art is the most childish engagement.

However, I find the custom commissioned Howl’s Moving Castle reusable stick-ons compelling, in a decorative-arts way.

[foret! @msjchun]

French tips get a dedicated chapter that also addresses cleanliness.

[foret! @msjchun]

Have a great weekend x Juju

[foret! @msjchun]

Have a nice weekend xo Juju

[foret! @msjchun]

Saw a man stride into Daunt Books to ask “Do you have books on real estate finance?”

[foret! @msjchun]

I hope to see the Andrew Tate-ing of Peter Thiel

[Yasmin Poole @yasmin_poole]

Peter Thiel, co-founder of PayPal and one of the largest individual donors in US politics, just referred to Greta Thunberg as part of the “autistic children’s brigade” in his Oxford address.