Resist as much as possible without getting killed. BTW, I'm an Old-White-Guy Boomer. Not all people in my generation are lining up to kiss Trump's ass...

Groundhog Day.

1999 Toyota Tacoma. A dinky two-door job. Still running. It's old enough to buy itself a drink. Has a shell on the back. I'm the kind of guy who runs the car until it runs no more or isn't cost affordable. Get regular oil changes, general maintenance, nothing spectacular. A life utility vehicle. Little rusty around the edges, and definitely a car for an old dude who doesn't have to impress the chicks. As a matter of fact, it tends to attract older guys, like me, who walk up and say "that is such a cool truck."

And like a bad neighbor, State Farm won't care.

Exercise their water valves. Crawl under the kitchen sink and the bathroom sink, reach around behind the toilet, find the hot and cold valves behind the washing machine. Especially if you live in a hard water area as I do, in Southern California. I have it on my calendar to do it twice a year. If I don't, the valves will eventually become calcified and ossified and worthless. I say this based on hard experience.

Welp, there's your two choices ...

Very grateful for your focus and dedication. Bummer about the DDOS bullshit. Your efforts mean a lot to the communities.

Damn shame, for her or anyone with cancer. I had a friend, quite a while ago, in her 30s. She developed ovarian cancer, and it took her out in short order. You never know, best to enjoy every day.

Today: 203,067 miles. 85% of the distance to the moon. Destination, the Sea of Longevity.

My best thing happened unexpectedly on March 15, 1973. (Probably makes me the oldest person in the room.) My high school guidance counselor died in his sleep. Bummer for him, but lucky for me. Back in the ’60s, my school system had me pegged as a gifted student, which was a one-size fits all label. That tag followed me to high school, where as a green sophomore, I was assigned the "gifted" guidance counselor, Mr. Daly. Daly was also a history teacher, and greatly loved and admired. He was a retired USMC Vietnam vet, and suffered from Marfan syndrome, giving him a strange and imposing appearance. He was a force of nature, that guy. I was 15 when we first met, and I had no idea about what I would do with my life. Because of my label, Daly had it all figured out. In his mind I was on my way to become a doctor, lawyer, CEO, etc. Yeah — no thanks. I had no goals, only passions — Photography and Design. I wanted to enroll in my school's tech classes and follow my interests. Daly squashed that idea. Wasn't going to happen. I was heartbroken. As a kid of 15 I had no leverage, and didn't know how I could get what I wanted. My parents were no help; "He probably knows best" was the best they could do. A few weeks later, when I came to school on the 16th of March, word was that Mr. Daly had died the previous night. While the school was in mourning, I was a pretty happy kid. My new counselor had no objections to me taking the photo and design track. :: After high school, university and some preliminary jobs, I started my own marketing communications business (then called freelancing, today gig work) and continued for 30+ years by myself. Of course the work had its ups and downs, but I was happy and always employed. :: Now I'm 66 and retired, and I always wonder what my life would be like if Mr. Daly had lived and imposed his vision on my life. Guess I got lucky. :: Rest in peace, Mr. D.

Who?

I retired.

"I'm sorry Dave, I can't wash that. This wardrobe is too important for you to jeopardize it."

Because Fuck Adobe.

So how will Apple craft this announcement in a way that avoids showing some kind of submission to the will and desires of the Android juggernaut? Let me guess... Anyone texting in from hardware other than an iPhone will still get the funky balloon color, eh?

Wait, what?

Vee heil, heil, right in der Führer's face.

I'm here working at developing a community every day. It's the community for my hometown, a large city on the coast of California. I try to post some interesting original content at least every other day, including photos.

Sometimes I feel like it's a personal echo chamber, but there are lots of lurkers and upvotes, so I keep going. Reading lots of other Lemmy communities going forward. It's all good.

Subspace interference.

What is this boredom of which you speak?

All your knowns are belong to us.

Sure, the guy was a murderer and somewhat nuts, but this quote of his always rang true with me. This is, in a nutshell, the future: "But I am suggesting neither that the human race would voluntarily turn power over to the machines nor that the machines would willfully seize power. What I do suggest is that the human race might easily permit itself to drift into a position of such dependence on the machines that it would have no practical choice but to accept all of the machines' decisions. Eventually a stage may be reached at which the decisions necessary to keep the system running will be so complex that human beings will be incapable of making them intelligently. At that stage the machines will be in effective control. People won't be able to just turn the machines off, because they will be so dependent on them that turning them off would amount to suicide."

Launcher is SquareHome Launcher, populated (mostly) by kustom widgets. Using PowerLine for a quick-glance battery strength reading (green line) at the top. The calendar at top scrolls (from calendar.google.com) and is part of a 6-sided shape with rotating faces — a SquareHome native widget. On that rotating widget cube I also have a Google Keep note for quick notes and info, a quick dialer, a favorite photo, and a list of recent alerts. The folders below, which are custom art, speak for themselves. The three-dot bubble opens up to Gmail, Google Tasks, Google Voice, Google Calendar, and a repeating alert app (Reminder Pro). The bar at bottom is another kustom widget, showing the status of the cell, wifi, and Bluetooth radios. Color bars indicate signal strength. • Also generally recommend the "Bottom Quick Settings" utility, and can't live without "Missed Notifications Reminder" utility. You should check them out.

Suggest not going anywhere when drunk. In fact, suggest not getting drunk.

Agreed. The "Sphinx" sentence is the cooler of the two. I've been using it for a long time. My personal twist: the last word becomes "vowel," not "vow." For me, easier on the ears.

Thanks I hate it.

I had a ton of karma points back in the old place. I think they sent me a notice saying I was in the top 5%. Didn't give a shit. Don't miss it. Just don't care at all. Glad to be here with you.

You're absolutely right. I was self-employed from '87 - '16. Gig work before they called it that. No regular commute!

Kagi, Sider, YouTube Premium.

Loves me some Boost. Boost is the moost.

thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou it's working very well today...

OMG, a fellow plane-toucher. Not big on compulsive behavior, but gotta tap the skin with the fingernail or it's going down for sure...

"We must surmise that it is not of this earth..."

Tangled up in Blue.

Thank Me very much.

An a.i. clarification of the article's summary: Researchers proved that stem cells from mammals can turn into any cell type like cells from an early embryo. These are called naive stem cells. They've shown naive stem cells work great in rodents, but not as well in primates since the donor cells don't match the host embryo. So they tried different conditions to produce naive stem cells from monkeys and got better at growing chimeric embryos. A chimeric monkey is one that has cells from two different embryos combined together. They created an aborted fetus and live chimeric monkey with high donor cell numbers. Testing showed the donor cells integrated into many tissues (including sex organs and placenta) of the chimeric monkeys, up to 90%. This is a big deal for researching naive stem cells and genetically modifying primates.

This week on Triple D, things you never put in your mouth...

This screen has a good vibe, feels fun and relaxed.

Fullblown christian nationalist whackjob. Listening to him speak in Congress, seems he has confused the speaker's chair with a pastor's pulpit. Whackjobs gotta whack.

Well that's fine, but I want to know what they were drinking.