Not sure why people are mocking Freddy for this post. This looks like Main Street, USA at Disney World or something from a movie. When I go to Italy or France, I'm blown away by random hill towns that young people are desperate to leave.
So turns out a bunch of those "Polymarket winner" videos weren't real, per some great reporting by the WSJ.
It was a fake website. Absolutely nuclear levels of fraud.
Shout out to Gamers Nexus for showing the DIY build of a comparable machine (slightly better performance than Steam Machine) $979 vs $1050.
Buy an xbox controller on sale for $50 vs $99 for Steam controller...
You save about $120.
A hot dog stand in Chicago. I reached for the ketchup.
The man behind the counter said one word. "No."
I froze. I understood. I had nearly broken a sacred law.
His name was Sal. He held a mustard bottle in each hand and had the calm of a man who has turned away kings. He told me the dog already had mustard, relish, onion, tomato, a pickle, peppers, and celery salt. He told me it was "dragged through the garden." He told me ketchup would never touch it.
I bowed. I had been shown the code.
I asked Sal who decreed this law. He shrugged. "That's just how it is here." A law so old its author is forgotten. The strongest kind.
Then a man two stools down asked for ketchup for his child. Sal allowed it. "Eight and under," he said.
So the law holds one mercy. Below eight winters, a child is innocent. At eight, he becomes responsible for his own honor. I found this more beautiful than anything in my own country.
I have not put ketchup on anything since.
Not on eggs. Not on rice. A vow does not check what is on the plate.
I flew home. At a stand in my own city, a boy reached for the red bottle. I caught his wrist. "You are over eight," I said. He did not know what I meant. His mother was upset. I tried to explain the garden. I tried to explain Sal.
I am now asked not to return to that stand.
I have appointed myself guardian of a law from a city I visited once, for a single afternoon.
So tell me, America.
Who forbade the red sauce on the sausage, and in what year?
And if no one remembers, who am I now serving?
Do these people not understand that they're making games?
If you want the player to see something, you need to guide them towards it in a natural way. That's the challenge of making games
If you can't do that: stick to film
I actually think it's good she recovered was able to stop and start a family
There is no shame in the marks left by a storm when the house still stands
philosophical sophistication of a 12 year old
and that’s how you should engage with it.
the best way to deal with these people is to pat them on the head and say “yes sweetie, you so smart, would you like a cookie?” and move on
there’s literally zero upside with trying to explain why they’re wrong. a complete waste of time