The World is Quiet Here

It’s so painfully individualistic. Of course me doing that thing isn’t going to save anybody or anything.

Im not trying to be a superhero who personally saves the say.

I am one leaf making oxygen in a massive forest of other trees making oxygen. I am doing my best and having faith that millions of others will do their best as well.

Because that can and has made big changes over time. Like. That is just how change happens. Thats cultural shifts. Thats political shifts. Thats how lasting changes happen.

I don’t plant milkweed because I’m personally gonna save monarch butterflies. I plant milkweed because I know thousands of us are gonna plant milkweed and send money to the people fighting horrible pesticides in court.

Fiona is married so it's time to reunite with her parents. But instead of marrying a prince, she's married to an ogre. Not just that, but she's also an ogre. (Yes everyone knew she would sometimes be an ogre but that was when she was a child, she didn't know she would be an ogre for the rest of her life, and besides once she met the right prince she would stop being an ogre. She was supposed to stop being an ogre.)

But okay they're both ogres. We can still ask about when they'll have children because even if they're ogres they can still have kids, right? That's what married princes and princesses do so naturally that's what everyone does. Even if ogres might not be great parents (I've heard that ogres eat their young, is that something you people do?) it's still something that should be discussed.

And okay you can stay in Fiona's childhood bedroom filled with all the reminders that hey, everyone thought she was just a princess and princesses marry princes. Her toys left out from the last time she played with them. The prince slays the ogre. The princess offers a token of gratitude for slaying the ogre. Fiona wrote Mrs. Fiona Charming a million times in her diary because what else was she supposed to grow up to be?

And Harold you have to fix this, your country can't be ruled by ogres. You were unfit to rule when you were a frog but I changed you, I made you better, I made you a prince. You know how this works. Think of your daughter's safety.

I went to right-click a file today and was met with an "Ask Copilot" prompt, despite having diligently removed every trace of the scourge from my computer any time it's ever been installed in the past. When I went and looked in the program list and indeed found "Copilot," it said it was installed today, 4/16/26.

Enraged and confused because I have Windows Updates turned off for this machine, don't install anything unless I can check what's in the patches, and haven't ran any updates since the end of March, I went rooting around in the logs and found that the culprit was... the latest update for Acrobat.

I went to their stupid support website, and their stupid chatbot confirmed it:

Crisps vs Chips: I gotta admit, the Brits have this one. They're thin slices of potato that have been made crispy. No chipping of any materials involved.

Car Park vs Parking Lot: Equally matched. What's a car park? A place to park cars. What's a parking lot? An otherwise empty lot where you can park.

Happy birthday James Beard!

James was born 5 May in 1903 in Portland, Oregon. In the 1930s he settled New York, where he gained a reputation for hosting a party – specifically among New York’s queer community, where private parties were a much safer way to socialise than public bars.

He soon landed his first of what would become dozens of cookbook deals, and a gig hosting one of the US’ first ever cooking shows. He advocated for a cuisine that used fresh ingredients and encouraged joy in cooking and eating, but remained accessible to the everyday American. By 1955, he was being described by the New York Times as the “dean of American Cookery”.

In 1981, James came out publicly in his memoir, writing "By the time I was seven, I knew that I was gay. I think it's time to talk about that now."