idleness, and the dwelling-on of dreams

There are political newspaper comics that aren't this succinct

I think it's so funny how we bred JOBS into dogs. I have two shih tzus and they were bred to be lap dogs. All they care about is looking cute and cuddling with people. Meanwhile my grandma has a border collie and that dog needs to feel so useful all the time, he acts like he will pass away if he doesn't have a job to do constantly

#people will overlook the perfect breeds to suit their needs based on just their looks#and get a work dog because it looks cool

@gallusrostromegalus

Any time someone sees Herschel and says "AWWW I want a Corgi <3" (because he is Very Cute (TM)), I immediately reply: "Do not get a Corgi unless you have a job for it to do. They were bred to bully livestock across the hills of Wales. This is basically a Border Collie that knows he is cute enough to get away with murder. If you get one and it doesn't have a job, it will apply its livestock-bullying instincts to YOU. Herschel's job specifically is to help manage my crippling ADHD, because I don't have a bull for him to micromanage." This gets me odd looks at the home depot but it does get the point across.

FUCKKKKKKK what if something bad happened and I forgot to worry about it

It's fascinating (and infuriating) to live in an age where almost everyone I know is languishing in Dickensian poverty but social media is slap full of professional-managerial computer-touchers who've never known hunger insisting that the economy is fine because their metrics say rich people are still rich.

A bad economist and a bad engineer are often bad in the same way; they're both people who, when reality doesn't conform to the model, decide to get mad at reality instead of adjusting the model

Every time a Fallen London post breaks containment someone inevitably mistakes it for being about Florida instead, and every single time it's glorious.

I think if you showed baru cormorant excel spreadsheets she would feel wonder at its arithmetic capabilities and profound pleasure at her command of such a quick witted tool but after a few hours sunk into playing with it the cold fist of dread that this was a masquerade tool - provided her to poison her figures? - would close in her chest and she’d queasily redo all the sums by hand just to double check and finding nothing would wonder if it wasn’t an exercise to steadily sow her faith in the technology and make her complacent in its whisperings so that one errant sum arced from the heart of the empire like an arrow could unravel the intestines of her lifelong work and she would come to the troubled conclusion that she could never trust their solutions meanwhile the apparitor is like you aren’t using Microsoft excel? and baru is like (lie) I found its results finicky, I trust my own hand better & apparitor’s like really now? You had trouble with it? Odd… And their brow furrows and the white hot knife of triumph like a darting fish flashes through baru’s mind like I’ve caught them guilty now! meanwhile exceedingly hot women are begging to have sex with her and she’s like don’t bother me right now I need to think on how to outsmart Microsoft excel