I try a lot of games and I find some that I like and finish, but I ALWAYS have an ongoing playthrough of both Cyberpunk 2077 and Mass Effect on constant repeat. These two games just never get old. I hope one day I find another game that impacts me as much as they do.
My favourite firework video on the internet is this one, where 45 minutes worth of fireworks are accidentally detonated all at once on July 4th 2012 in San Diego. I had tears in my eyes, sobbing the first time I saw this. The sound is magnificent. It's the end of days.
Amazon Has Axed Its New Stargate Series
https://t.co/CReonRt2Qg
Amazon MGM Studios is not moving forward with Martin Gero's Stargate revival, which was to begin filming this fall.
A psychologist watched thousands of couples argue for 40 years. The ones who stayed together and the ones who divorced fought just as much. How often you fight barely predicts anything. The clearest warning sign is quieter: one partner rolling their eyes at the other.
His name is John Gottman. He wired couples up to heart monitors, filmed them fighting, then waited years to see who broke up.
The couples who lasted shared one habit. For every cold moment in a fight, a snap, a jab, a nasty look, they had about five warm ones. A joke, a hand on the knee, a quiet "okay, fair." When they were getting along, the warm stuff outweighed the cold by far more. The couples heading for a split were running close to even, more digs than make-ups. The warmth around the fight is what held them together.
The worst sign of all is contempt. That word covers eye-rolling, sarcasm, mocking how your partner talks, treating them like they are stupid or beneath you. Gottman could watch a couple fight for fifteen minutes and guess who would divorce with about 90% accuracy, mostly by counting moments like that. Plain old anger barely registered. Some of the couples who yelled the loudest turned out to be the happiest, as long as they were kind to each other the rest of the time.
There is also a physical reason the calm conversation he wants is nearly impossible in the heat of a fight. When your heart races past about 100 beats a minute, your body drops into survival mode, and the part of your brain that listens and feels for someone else goes quiet. Gottman called it flooding. Your body needs a full twenty minutes to settle, and only if you stop replaying the fight in your head. Loving someone does not switch off the adrenaline.
Most of what couples fight about never gets fixed anyway. Around 69% of it comes from the basic ways two people differ, in personality and in what they want out of life, and that does not change. Happy couples have the same three or four arguments for thirty years. They just stop trying to win and learn to argue without cutting each other down.
So the line in the tweet has it backwards. A couple that never fights is often the one quietly falling apart. Usually it means one person stopped speaking up, and the warmth drained away while the room stayed calm.
A studio made a video game where your whole job is putting 3,072 messy books back on the right shelves. There's no fighting and barely a story. It's now a hit on Steam, where 94% of reviews are positive, and there's a brain reason it feels so good.
Back in 1927, a psychologist named Bluma Zeigarnik noticed something odd about waiters. They could remember a table's whole order perfectly, right up until the bill was paid. The moment it was settled, the order fell out of their heads. She tested the idea and found we all work this way. A job you haven't finished keeps poking at you, like a tab you left open in your browser. Finish it and the tab closes. The poking stops.
The trouble is, normal life almost never lets you finish anything. You empty your inbox and it fills back up. You do the laundry and next week it's there again. The pile of stuff hanging over you never quite hits zero, so part of your brain is always quietly holding all of it. Researchers have linked all those open, unfinished jobs to a busy head, weaker focus, and that feeling of not being able to switch off at night.
A stack of 3,072 books is different, because it actually ends. The number only ever goes down, never up. Every shelf you fill is one job your brain gets to close for good, and finishing things gives you a small hit of dopamine, the feel-good chemical your brain releases when you make progress. You watch the floor slowly come back into view under the mess as you go. You get that reward right away, which the bigger goals in your life almost never hand you.
There's a second thing going on too. A messy room is a stack of tiny questions: where does this go, do I even need it, should I deal with it now. Putting things in order answers every one of them and quiets your brain down. We're wired to like order, because order means less to keep track of, and less to keep track of just feels calmer.
This kind of game has a long track record. PowerWash Simulator, where all you do is spray dirt off things until they're clean, has been played by more than 17 million people, and its sequel earned two BAFTA award nominations this year. Unpacking, a quiet little game about taking things out of boxes and finding a place for them, sold over a million copies and won two BAFTAs of its own. You can't lose either one.
The whole appeal is a mess that actually ends. Your own to-do list never does.
In the climax of The Abyss, Ed Harris and his wife are trapped in a flooding chamber. They have one diving suit. One of them has to die. Right in the middle of that scene, a crew member's hand reaches into the frame and wipes water off the camera lens. Twice. James Cameron knew. He kept it.
The cinematographer on The Abyss spent the entire editing process begging Cameron to cut this take from the final movie. Cameron refused.
His name is Mikael Salomon. He's a Danish cinematographer with two Oscar nominations, one of them for The Abyss itself. In a 2019 interview with SYFY Wire, he said the shot is also badly out of focus, on top of the lens wipe. Cameron's response when Salomon begged him to cut it: "Nobody is going to notice it."
For 35 years, Cameron was right. The film opened in theaters in 1989, came out on home video and DVD over the next two decades, and hit streaming in 2023. Not a single viewer flagged the lens wipe. Salomon went to a screening of the film himself and nudged his wife at the exact second the wipe happens. He says she still missed it. Then in April 2024, a visual effects artist at Industrial Light and Magic named Todd Vaziri saw someone point it out online. He wrote about it on his blog, and the discovery went viral.
Reshoots on The Abyss were not happening. The crew worked six days a week, seventy hours a week, for six months. The set was a giant water tank built inside an abandoned nuclear power plant in South Carolina. There are scenes where Ed Harris is shown breathing a special liquid instead of air. To shoot them, he held his breath as long as he could while the liquid sloshed into his eyes and nose. Cameron kept the lens wipe because the alternative was going back to that hellscape.
And no, Cameron does not "still incorporate it into his movies today." This was a one-time bet on what audiences look at during a tense scene, and it paid off for three and a half decades.