Damn corporate shrinkflating Charlie’s head on us.

I can almost guarantee this was some stupid marketing exec’s idea. Someone had to write the code that interprets that you’re watching an episode that someone else has available for streaming. Any software dev worth their salt would have seen this request and said “This is the dumbest fucking idea I have ever seen in my life” and they probably had to make it anyway because it pays the bills.

Yeah, I don’t think there’s a restaurant on Alberta that doesn’t have at least a little of this aesthetic.

That said, Pine State is worth the asking price and I’ll kill on that hill.

A warforged officer with a built-in set of calligrapher’s tools meant to be a relay for orders and memos from command to pass to the troops. They become a bard and call their act “Printer Jams.”

Investigators said they aren’t certain exactly how Kelly got his hands on the drugs. Records show Kelly had been tasked earlier in the day with destroying drugs seized by another police officer that morning.

🤔🤔🤔

In a capitalist hellscape, any amount of damage is damaged beyond all hope because everyone is completely interchangeable, and ultimately, disposable.

So, y’know, you’re not wrong.

They’re efficient at maximizing profits for shareholders, usually at the dire expense of literally everyone else.

This is how most supermarkets (Walmart/Kroger/Target, etc.) in the U.S. look brand new - they’re effectively warehouses that sell product directly to customers. Smaller shops and boutiques have finished ceilings that hide the ductwork and such because they’re meant to be more flexible commercial/office space, but large stores like this do not, except for specialized locations like electronics, jewelery, or pharmacy, that can be gated off from the rest of the inside of the building for reduced operation and security.

Also the shmutz on that student’s desk.

Anytime people start talking about supply and demand, I can’t help but think of the lines from The Grapes of Wrath:

The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains…

There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

Amazing how in eight decades and some change, that sentiment has not budged an inch. The only real difference is, in addition to the food wasted and the dumpsters locked to keep out the homeless, they’re dumping shit like Funko Pops in the millions. All this plastic tat that’s literally killing the planet, that nobody in their right mind would want in a million years if the sickness of capitalism didn’t tell them it was precious.

It kind of sounds like your friend won’t enjoy the kind of D&D you like to run, and that’s okay. You are allowed to enjoy running a challenging campaign with metered resources and meaningful stakes, and he is allowed to enjoy playing a shining hero that doesn’t worry about restraints and desperate measures. Both of those games are perfectly fine as long as everyone is having a good time.