alex: this is my first drawing acount and my main for now. i do take requests for things you want me to draw as long as its sfw and in my comfort zone(mostly pencil drawing because I'm to lazy to continuously change colored pencils unless requested.) Enjoy your time in this hell hole with me? Maybe you can stay and watch me progress?
my main requirement in a partner is someone who's willing to "yes, and" me. if i say something completely insane i need them to just pick that up and run with it and commit to the bit until we wind up with a conversation that's funny to us but completely incoherent to everyone within earshot. actually now that i'm typing this out i've realised my ideal relationship might just be "shitty improv comedy duo"
The Ship of Theseus is a story of a ship which, over time, has part after part replaced. By the end, 100% of the original ship's pieces have been replaced. The paradox begs the question of whether it is still the same ship.
The Ship of Theseus is a story of a ship which has its pieces replaced one after another. By the end, every single piece of the original ship has changed. The paradox asks if this is the same ship.
The Ship of Theseus tells the allegory of a ship whose crew are replaced one at a time. Eventually every single crewmate has been swapped for a new one. No one left knows what the carved initials in the mast mean. The paradox wonders whether the ship is still the same ship.
The Ship of Theseus refers to a company which has experienced complete turnover and rebranding. The query wishes to know if it is still the same company. The debtors are asking.
The Ship of Theseus is about a family. The original constituents are dead now, replaced by younger generations which have dispersed, found love, married and gained new names. No one is Theseus anymore. No one remembers the bones. But the genes never forget. Who is the family now?
The Ship of Theseus is you, shed of all the cells which first made you. They're stardust again. You'll be stardust many times over. Who are you?
The Ship of Theseus is me. All my words have changed. Who do I get to be now?
Incredible new thing happening with Elon today: he fired a disabled Twitter engineer for prima facie discriminatory reasons, trashed talked the ex-employee on Twitter and then discovered this employee came to Twitter by way of an acquisition of that employee's software start up and the sale contains a clause that if Twitter terminates his employment it has to pay him 100 million for the software he developed. The fact Elon Musk might have to personally sell of Tesla stock to meet this obligation has caused Tesla's share price to dip yet again.
Also Musk deleted his tweet trashing the employee but it's preserved and being reposted by multiple Twitter users, at least until Musk can figure out a way to nuke the screen grabs from orbit.
I read an AITA post a few weeks back about a woman who liked having snacks in the bath when she's had a long day (a result of residual trauma iirc - the bath was her safe space). Her brand new husband of three weeks, a man twice her age who had no job, made her pay all of his bills and do all housework, and spent all day every day gaming because he wanted to make it as a Twitch streamer, had always been fine with this; but, on the day in question, had whisked her bath snacks out of her hands as she was on her way to the bathroom and tried to bin them, telling her it was time to 'break her of that filthy habit in his home'. She told him if he ever actually paid anything towards the house she owns outright he might get a say, took her snacks back, and had her lovely bath. He was since giving her the silent treatment.
(Obviously the judgement was an avalanche of 'NTA and also he's abusing you', which she agreed with, and decided to kick him out, so happy ending.)
Anyway I told my husband about this and he was outraged. "I would never do that!" he told me, furious. "I would find it adorable if you had bath snacks!"
Since then, every time I try to have a bath (which I only do as a rare treat) after about ten minutes there has been an anxious scrabbling at the bathroom door.
"Elanor!" he says. "Do you have bath snacks? Do you need anything?"
My answer is irrelevant. He brings me wine and poptarts. Now I have bath snacks. I'm a bath snacks person. Last time he was literally sleeping on the sofa when I went for the bath. Somehow this still happened. I now have an eager bathroom butler. How did this happen. I have never been so decadent yet bewildered.
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