Eleanor Roosevelt was never an American president.

What responsibilities does a slave have?

What I said is that coercion is something inherently problematic. When we apply that to politics, it results in the position that government is, at best, a necessary evil (↪JerseyFlight, ↪Pro Hominem, pay attention next time). Thus I believe government interference in individual's goings-on should be minimalized at every opportunity. A classically liberal (read: not the "modern" use of the word), perhaps libertarian, view. — Tzeentch

In a perfect world everyone would be responsible and cooperate for mutual benefit. But it’s not a perfect world and those with an advantage take advantage and typically do whatever it takes to keep their advantage. People also tend to be shortsighted and unwilling to make sacrifices for those outside of their family, friends, tribe, or nation, and much less for people who don’t even exist yet.

Eleanor Roosevelt famously said that with freedom comes responsibility.

Yahad watched closely as his charge blinked his eyes in a rapid pattern.

“Indeed, Sir, I couldn’t agree more."

I am wondering how one justifies that a person who is not interested in the things a state (supposedly) provides, nor is interested in having those things provided to him by a state, is still forced to pay for them. — Tzeentch

I’m afraid that I struggle to derive a fundamental warrant. I suppose it comes down to whether or not a particular state is worth it or provides sufficient value. From what I understand, Democracies tend to provide the best value for its citizens because they’re the most resistant to concentrations of power.

There are many threads here - colonialism, racism, and to complicate matters, someone has created a list of 'the worlds most beautiful people', needless to say, not every country is listed, giving the impression that the peoples of the world can be ranked on a scale from beautiful (10) to ugly (0). Note the countries listed but without exception these people rank from light skinned to deep tan. — FreeEmotion

There’s nothing the least bit complicated about a crappy website like that. It couldn’t be more shallow and meaningless.

This is what the American constitution says: "...in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity."

Without some kind of government it would be exceedingly unlikely that you would secure any of these things.
— JerseyFlight

What if an individual isn't interested in securing those things? Under the current system they are simply forced to pay for them anyways! — Tzeentch

You’re not interested in those things? You’d prefer to not pay taxes and live in a society where everything is privately owned? In a world like that you’d still have to pay for travel, security, and everything else.

So you’re pro life and the state deciding wether or not women are allowed to abort a pregnancy?

I’m saying polarization is a natural feature of democracy, and can address injustices. — NOS4A2

It can also be used strategically as in populism to acquire power, or to ‘divide and conquer’ at a level above that.

is it not true that a country is judged on how high in the development scale it is by how everything looks - even down to the people, their appearance, their posessions, their housing. — FreeEmotion

I would say yes, in that the aesthetics of a society expresses its values.

Everything in developed societies tends to look neatly arranged, as you say, and rather utilitarian and uniform. Efficiency, order, and predictability is valued over aesthetics. The iron cage of reason, they call it, ugly and meaningless.

foetus — unenlightened

An embryonic nemesis?

In summary, an analysis of language suggests that babies, ergo fetuses, don't have personhood and therefore abortion should be ok but the way people in general and mothers in particular resent people who refer to their babies as an "it" indicates the opposite - fetuses are persons.

What gives? :chin: — TheMadFool

That despite reason there’s an inescapable intuition of life and kinship.

So Trump visits Kenosha and heads straight to a burned-out furniture store because money and material wealth are the center of his value system. Screw the people who died. Screw the issues behind the protests. All that matters is wealth and power.

Lamenting a divided government from a man who fervently hates his own president. Funny. — NOS4A2

Hate is a strong word, even directed towards the Divider-in-Chief. I don't care for the notion that a citizen should love or respect their leader merely because of their position. For most adults, respect needs to be earned.

Funny, coming from someone who so fervently supports a man who has a habit of circumventing Congress whenever they become inconvenient.

I believe polarization is an important aspect of a country’s progression and politics. — NOS4A2

So you're a progressive now?

The more divided a government is the more ineffectual it can be, and who benefits from an ineffectual US government? Some must, perhaps your employer, for one.

non-deterministic space-time anomalies — Nils Loc

They can be potent.

“They’re not ordinary rats!” Bimble yelled as the crew converged on him.

“They’re huge, for one thing. I saw one the other day that I mistook for that guy at first,” he said while pointing to a small hairy man with a narrow face, small beady eyes, a long nose, and sitting in a wheelchair.

Bimble noticed that the little man in the wheelchair looked a bit wounded by what he’d just said so quickly added, “Uh, it was below deck and it’s really dark down there.”

“Also, they can cast spells with their squeaky little voices,” he exclaimed, “They hexed me so that I can only conjure sticky cheese balls. Have you ever tried to juggle with sticky cheese balls?”

“It’s impossible!” he yelled hysterically.

The Nils were enjoying the spectacle. They enjoyed seeing the bumbling fool Bimble squirm so much that they made more copies of themselves in order to watch the action from all angles. They had seen everything leading up to the event, of course. How the crew had grown increasingly impatient with Bimble's lackluster performance as a rat-catcher. The last straw was when the rats had eaten through the floorboards of the cellar and all the jugs of Jamaican rum had crashed to pieces on the deck below. The rats had lapped up the rum that pooled around the broken bottles, and these rats were mean drunks. The drunken rats attacked the crew, scratching and biting. It wasn’t pretty. But the fact that there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left aboard ship was what really sealed Bimbles' fate. He was a walking dead man.

But there was something else.

I know that if rioters burned my business to the ground I would be happy if the leader of our country came in support. I can’t think of any leader having the balls to do so. — NOS4A2

Not even ballsy in the sense of it being a risky stunt, because no matter how it turns out he’ll be a hero in the eyes of his cult-like followers. If he ends up not going, for instance, it will show prudence rather than cowardice, right?

It turns out if you attack a man with a gun you get shot. — NOS4A2

Turns out that if you try to put out a fire with gasoline you’re an idiot.

I think it’s wise for the president to show support to the victims of riots, and I think it’s a good move politically. — NOS4A2

What if he inspires more Kenosha "militia", like these guys...



The kid on the left shot and killed two people and wounded another last week. Violence from the 'law & order' side won't help Trump politically, but now that I think about it, maybe it would.

In my opinion the “Trump supporters” were stupid to go to Portland. — NOS4A2

Why the scare quotes? And is Trump stupid for planning to visit Kenosha tomorrow?

“I’m fine, really, just a bit of the blues. All I need is a good night's sleep, a spot of tea in the morning, and I’ll be right as rain.” Bimble replied to a fellow passenger who commented on Bimble’s downtrodden appearance as he boarded the ship. The truth was that he would not be right as rain, or right as sunshine, or right as anything else until he dealt with the shadow that tormented him, and time was running out.

He was a nervous wreck by this point, plagued by grief and relentless panic attacks. Not being able to concentrate, he lost the ability to fight. In his diminished condition, the juggling/mesmeradi spell would only work on small animals. He used what ability he had though, and secured a position on a merchant ship headed for the mysterious waters of Sahul. The tall wooden galleon had a bad rat infestation that Bimble promised to solve in exchange for passage. He could efficiently mesmerize the rodents with juggling and the mesmeradi spell, knock them out with a juggling ball, and then toss the poor unconscious vermin overboard. It was a humiliating step down from the glory of being a heroic fighter but these were desperate times for Bimble.

He slept remarkably well the first night aboard ship for some reason. The sea must agree with him, he thought. Well rested, he left the cramped cabin that was assigned to him and headed for the top deck to find some tea. He overheard that there was a cart that sold stimulating beverages there.

He eventually found the cart in a corner of the aft deck. Approaching it he saw that there was a small cloaked figure tending the cart, no larger than a child, and wearing a mask. The child-like figure nodded to him as he approached.

“Do you have Dragonwell green tea?” Bimble asked.

“Of course!” said the cart-tender, “Only the finest and brewed to perfection with imported spring water from Zhangjiajie, and served in a Ming Dynasty china cup.”

“Really?”

“No. This is what we serve,” said the cart-tender as he flicked a small scroll of parchment at Bimble. The scroll bounced off Bimble’s face and landed on the deck.

He picked it up and while perusing the little menu said, “I haven’t had such an easy time of it lately, you know. Just last week I–” Bimble was interrupted by the child in the cart.

“I’m gonna stop you right there. What does this say?” The child asked Bimble while pointing to the sign above his head.

Bimble looked at the sign and with an exaggerated French accent mockingly replied, “Cafe Nihilistique,” and then commented, “A bit foofy and pretentious for a rundown rat-infested merchant ship, if you asked me.”

“It’s not French, imbecile. The point is that nowhere on the sign does it say ‘ships counselor’. Cry a river to someone else and on your own time. I’ve got a cart to run.” Said the cart-tender.

“Fine.” Said Bimble as he continued to read the tiny menu that listed the following selections.

Arabica Absurda - light roast
Sisyphean Sumatra - dark roast
Green Gambit - Chilean non-organic green tea
Pirates Pekoe - black tea

Thinking that it might help to try lightening the mood of the exchange, Bimble said in his best pirate-speak, “Arrrr, me hearty, I’ll have me a mug of ye Pirates Pekoe brew!”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“This isn’t a pleasure cruise, rat-catcher. There are some rough customers onboard and if they hear you carrying on as you have you’ll be twenty thousand leagues under the sea by nightfall.” Said the cart-tender.

“You speak like an adult, with your fancy-schmancy literary references and arrogant tone,” Bimble said.

“You speak like a child.”

Becoming exasperated, Bimble said, “You know, there’s a part in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea that reminds me of–” Bimble was distracted by a rapid tugging on the back of his shirt. He turned around and saw a small cloaked figure identical to the cart-tender. It shoved a mug, presumably the Pirates Pekoe that he’d ordered only moments before, into his hand. It then held up the other hand palm up.

Taking the hint, Bimble put a coin in the new cart-tenders hand. It didn’t move. Bimble put another coin in its hand. Speaking so quickly that it sounded like one word, it said, “Thanks, come again.” And with unnatural speed disappeared in a blur.

The business done, Bimble headed below deck to start his work, but after a half-dozen steps turned around and with a raised voice asked, “How did you know that I’m a rat-catcher?”

The cart-tender remained silent. Then duplicate cloaked children started to come out from behind every corner of the deck, all staring at Bimble. With a chill rolling down his spine, Bimble muttered, “Nevermind,” and quickly departed.

No matter what happens in the elections, the house divided will stay divided, that's for sure. — ssu

It would undoubtably be far less divided without the orange Divider-in-Chief continuously inflaming the situation. I’m sure he would still be vocal but like a canceled reality tv show, he’d no longer be in the spotlight.

You've provided a new means to shift the content of this thread because we can go back and edit that which has not really carried into the future yet by someone elses acknowledgement. Who would notice unless they were constantly re-reading? New authors/readers would have different stories from old authors/readers unless they reread the content frequently. — Nils Loc

Oracle Night includes a time travel storyline. I can’t help wondering, in a semi-inebriated state, if you knew that or if this is another instance of coincidence.

It's notable because someone in Gaffigan's position doesn't lightly mess with their branding and potentially alienate a segment of their audience. On the other hand, maybe he's ready to go in another direction and is like fuckit.

A well known 'clean' American comedian. Think Hot-Pocket...

Gameplay notes:
I finished reading Oracle Night yesterday, a story essentially about how one random event can drastically change a life. The main character in the story is a writer, and in the story he writes a story, so it becomes a story within a story for a portion of the story. I mention this because of a couple of remarkable coincidences between Oracle Night and the D&D gameplay here. In Oracle Night, there’s a somewhat mysterious old asian guy with poor English who at one point gives Sid, the writer, a single karate chop that incapacitates him during an altercation. The same thing happens in the D&D gameplay, and it happens before I read it in the book. I might simply chalk this up to common cultural stereotypes but, as the title suggests, a prophetic quality is embedded within the Oracle Night story.

I have two theories to account for the coincidences. The first theory, which echos the theory in Oracle Night, is that when someone writes a story they can become a kind of conduit or oracle, if you will, unconsciously piecing together disparate bits of experience to formulate a prediction that is ordinary thought to be merely a fictional story. This seems plausible because the mind is largely nothing more than a prediction machine, some believe. Oracle Night is the fourth Auster book that I’ve read in a row and so my Auster intuition may have developed to the point of having prophetic power.

The other theory is that when someone writes a story they can become a different sort of conduit. They can, for example, become a conduit of life or death in the case of Schrödinger's cat, collapsing the wave function and determining its fate. It could be that this D&D gameplay shifted all of us to an alternate universe where Oracle Night features an old asian guy similar to Master Zeo. Because this theory could be true, I suggest excluding non-deterministic spacetime anomalies from any further gameplay. With the virus/economy things are bad enough as it is.

Refusing to accept that chance could determine his fate, Bimble ran. He ran past the bartend and in so doing accidentally knocked the oil lantern out of his hand. It crashed on the floor and exploded like a lazy molotov cocktail. Unbeknownst to Bimble, the still glowing icosagon die lay in that fire, and just as the long-forgotten proverb tells, “A die that is heated can be cheated,” Bimble’s ultimate fate continued to be indeterminate.

Bimble believed that he was doomed, however, and continued to run as though he was running from his own shadow, mostly because he actually was running from his own shadow. He soon wearied of running though, and that’s when the grief started to set in. He thought that the end would come abruptly but realized after a while that the Night Shadow would take him by inches. He diminished in all but imperceptible degrees, and his grief developed in large stages but with equally regular progression.

The first stage was denial.

The innuendo escapes me. I understand that the bar is extremely low. Low enough where even I don't need to worry about hitting it.

Was it low quality or gaslighting? We can only make a blind guess.

Sorry for being unclear. The point is that there is evidence and reasoning. If there were no available evidence or reasoning then it could truly be a blind guess.

Then you missed the best part:

Why is one viewpoint promoted while others are hidden?

The answer is control -- and because division and controversy breeds profit.

Somehow her adoring fans are able to overlook the fact that both left and right leaning media profits from divisiveness and controversy, and that her own father strategically uses division and controversy for personal gain and at the expense of the country at large.

Photos of Obama era “children in cages” were shown to great effect in order to malign the Trump administration’s reasoning — NOS4A2

I believe they were shown to illustrate the results of enforcing a morally dubious policy.

Another unhinged one that seems like it should actually work against them. An ivy-league elite telling the masses that they're enslaved and too moronic to think for themselves.

I've only passed by New York, viewing the gray gloomy cityscape on the horizon from the comfort of a passenger train, and even after reading the fourth Paul Auster book in a row have no real sense of it. Is every New Yorker a baseball fan?

In my opinion anyone who asserts "There are no gods" is almost certainly asserting a blind guess. — Frank Apisa

Your opinion is presumably based on the fact that there is no evidence or reasoning available to reach this conclusion, so my presumption must be wrong.

David Duke back in Charlottesville:

I was thinking about how to respond to a post the other day and stumbled onto the not so impressively obscure word antipode.

The frigid waters off the cost of Madagasikara are antipodal to my current location.

Near Perth is antipodal to New York.

https://www.antipodesmap.com/

It seems that even the lowest forms of life eventually turn on Trump. There may be hope for you yet, NOS.

you’re blinded by your hatred, as are most, and you all will tear down this country to defeat the folk devils you yourself have invented. You can break free of this, Tim. It involves thinking for yourself. — NOS4A2

Speaking of thinking for yourself, did you come up with the idea that “you all” will ruin everything just to win the election? Sounds rather Trump/Hannity/Carlson-like to me.

Someone should tell her that effective fear mongering isn’t supposed to make an audience fear for the speaker.