@stevendbrewer@wandering.shop

Something like half of my mastodon feed is being filtered right now.

This NYT article talks about how external costs imposed by businesses on all of us are much larger than the profits they privatize for themselves. https://www.nytimes.com/2025/02/03/opinion/philanthropy-charity-billionaires-math.html?unlocked_article_code=1.uE4.kc2e.ghT5ad_1Wms5&smid=url-share

But since they're focused on philanthropy, they don't talk about the elephant in the room: the profits oil companies reap while imposing the costs of climate change on the world. The oil executives have made enough money to build apocalypse bunkers, but the costs to the rest of us for an unlivable planet vastly exceed that.

#PennedPossibilities Have you ever wanted to quit writing?

I misread this and thought it said, "Have you ever wanted to quit working?" And I thought, "Only every day of my entire life."

#WritersCoffeeClub Do you agree with Thomas Mann: “A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”

No. But I agree with him when he says, "Tolerance becomes a crime when applied to evil."

I posted this in July. The actions taken by the new administration (e.g. imposing tariffs, cutting federal spending, reducing immigrant labor, creating uncertainty) all seem likely to tank the economy. Get ready for things to get a lot worse. https://wandering.shop/@stevendbrewer/112832185241068090

A customer at the pro shop was angrily haranguing the clerk.
"What's going on?" the wife asked.
"He says that they're colluding to over-charge on the tennis equipment."
"So it's a racket racket racket?"
"Ugh."
"I'll be here the whole week," she said. "Tip your waitress. Try the veal."

#wss366

The #wss366 word for today is #racket — a fitting word for the times. I look forward to reading what people do with it!

On the Internet, nobody knows you're a dog. But they can tell if you're an asshole.

#SilentSunday View from Sequoia National Monument photographed using Kodachrome, January 1991.

The bear took a drag from his smoke. He stood in the deep shadows of giant hemlocks, while he observed the drama play out.
The man rubbed his shoulder and cursed as he headed to the trash can.
"That's gonna leave a #mark," the bear growled to himself, breathing out smoke. (4/4) #wss366

"And WHO is going to dispose of it properly?" Forrest continued. His beak clacked sharply near the man's ear, making him jump.
"I will!"
Forrest dropped the wrapper and with a powerful beat of his wings, lifted silently back into the air, to resume his patrol. (3/4) #wss366

"Whoa!" the man said, then froze as razor-sharp talons dug into his flesh.
"WHO dropped this?" Forrest asked, holding the wrapper up before the man's eyes, the talons of his other foot digging in even further to maintain his balance.
"I… I did!" the man stammered. (2/4) #wss366

Forrest glided over the park on silent wings. Watching. Far below, a park visitor unwrapped a piece of candy and dropped the wrapper.
Forrest went into a dive, swooped down, and collected the wrapper still on the wing. He landed noiselessly, without warning, on the man's shoulder. (1/4) #wss366

Feel free to wish my 92-year-old mom a happy birthday.

I checked the temperature — 5°F — dreading the early morning dash out to get the newspapers. Then I remembered it's Sunday, the one day they bring the papers to the door. Ah… One needs to take pleasure in small things during these uncertain times.

And if you're wondering why we still get newspapers delivered, they're for my mom who just turned 92.

He headed to a bin and began digging through a pile of dirty cables.
"Pieces of seven! Pieces of seven!" squawked the bird.
"Why does he…" the greybeard started to ask.
"Oh. It's a parroty error." (4/4)

(Apologies to whoever wrote the original joke. And to everyone who reads this. And for accidentally posting this thread twice and removing it and posting it again.)

A stooped, slim elderly man stepped out of the backroom, wiping his greasy hands off with a rag.
"What can I do you for?" he asked.
"I need an RS232 adapter for a Centronics parallel port connector."
The man thought for a moment then said, "I think I got one." (2/4)

"Pieces of seven! Pieces of seven!" he heard.
He turned and saw a bird cage by the register with a colorful macaw. It looked at him first with one eye and then the other.
"Pieces of seven! Pieces of seven!" it squawked, its #pupil contracting and expanding spasmodically. (2/4) #wss366

The bell on the door clanged when the stout greybeard pushed into the store. He looked around at all the old technology junk. His eyes lighted first on a teletype with a paper tape reader. He smiled. He hadn't seen one of those since he was a kid. (1/4)

He headed to a bin and began digging through a pile of dirty cables.
"Pieces of seven! Pieces of seven!" squawked the bird.
"Why does he…" the greybeard started to ask.
"Oh. It's a parroty error." (4/4)

(Apologies to whoever wrote the original joke. And to everyone who reads this.)