Hullo! You can call me Oracle, though I have a wide variety of nicknames by this point. A little memes, a little fandom, a various now sparsely-touched mishmash, with the occasional art and fic. I'm more on Discord these days than anything.
- they/them, 20s, ♐
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Art & writing also over at SERENDIPITOUSORACLEART
babe wake up a new disaster in applied libertarianism just dropped
it is already KNOWN that cryptobros are goons and always up to clownery but this is truly the FUNNIEST example i’ve seen in a long time
please take the time to at least skim the story 3 guys buying a yacht, planning to make it into a floating town where you can only spend cryptocurrency while in the freedom of the ocean, immediately discover that maritime laws exist, end up blowing all their money to be three guys and a crew of 40 on an empty ship they are unable to sell for scrap, one guy spends christmas alone on a waterslide…….. it’s incredible
like i do not feel remotely bad for them, literally any amount of research would have revealed their plan as unfeasible, they CHOSE to waste their money like this
The rooms:
Did not allow pets over 20lbs and would not allow barking for over 10 minutes (or else the pet couldn’t live on the boat anymore)
Only had a mini fridge with no microwave (the only food on the ship would be from a restaurant)
Cost $560/month for a small, windowless interior room
And the “seastead” was supposed to be in the shape of the Bitcoin sign
absolutely hysterical that a bunch of libertarians thought a cruise ship was the way to escape regulation
Okay, so Friedman started yammering on about libertarian seatopias in 2010, three years after Bioshock. You cannot convince me this is a coincidence.
Cryptocoin, cruise ships, and libertarians are like three things that are all constantly dangling by a single frayed thread over total disaster and they put all three together.
I absolutely cried laughing reading about this. I have the book on order.
Every time I see some jackass nattering on about “overregulation” it’s always about things like ocean travel, nuclear power, construction of buildings, etc. You know, things with MASSIVE SAFETY RISKS IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW THE RULES OF PHYSICS. It doesn’t take much to find out the consequences of ignoring those rules. We’ve got the Demon Core, radium girls, and the nuclear boy scout stories for radioactivity. We’ve got the Sampoong department store, Versailles wedding hall and so many more for construction. For ocean travel? Fuck me, there are SO MANY DISASTERS. These chucklefucks are mad about regulation and see safety as trivial. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking pathetic.
we would find out later i had burned off my entire cornea - about 65% of my eye. my doctor told me it is the organ with the highest concentration of nerve endings - i was in an amount of pain that can’t be spoken.
and i was blind. for the first time in my life, i was totally blind. i kept thinking about reading, about writing. weirdly, just once, about driving. we had no idea if i would ever see again. just like that - my entire life was different.
it is a strange place to reference for a soft memory, to begin here.
my siblings were taking excellent care of me, but there was a moment in the hospital where, just through bad luck and timing - both of them had to step away for a moment. i was crying at that point; not emotionally. for 3 days after this i would still be crying, my tears, like a mermaid’s, a frothy pink with blood.
my brother worried about leaving me. he had another, just-as-bad emergency.
“i got her,” someone said. “don’t worry.”
a soft hand held mine, and then she started talking.
her name was jess. she has a wife named clyde. they live a few blocks up the street. clyde fell down, but the x-rays seem to be coming back better than expected. jess says she’s got long dark hair and “more wrinkles than an elephant”. jess describes every chair in the room and every person. she talks about her two kids and her cats and her favorite memories from college.
a doctor came. i had to switch to a different waiting room. i tried to stand up to follow the voice - i found jess’s hand, following me. she didn’t let go. she kept talking the whole way: lamp to your left, just a few more steps, okay to your right is the ugliest painting, good, now a little more walking straight, you got it baby
in the new silence of the next room she sat me down and called my brother for me, telling him where we’d gone to. and she stayed there for a bit, just chatting, her voice echoing in the eerie quiet. gently describing the room to me. and then someone was rude. from the sound of the voice, a kid, i think.
“why is she crying?”
“she just lost her vision,” jess said. “she can’t see.”
“oh.” said the kid. “that’s scary.”
the kid tells me he is here because he has peas stuck up his nose. that makes me laugh, his mom (?) groans. she tells me about the kid (he’s 6, he likes paw patrol and eating cheese), about herself, about moving from cali.
jess says she’s sorry, but she has to leave now, she’s gotta go check on her wife.
“don’t worry,” says the mom. “i got her.” and then i felt her hand press into mine.
for hours like that: i am taken care of by strangers. each person just talking with whatever comes to their head - not for any reward or celebrity or real reason, i guess. just because i am scared and alone and in the hospital and blinded and need to be distracted. not everyone even got told the story - they would just pick up in the silence with - oh by the way the television is playing HGTV - do you like that kind of a thing?yeah, me too, but could never quite get into those open-floor plans, i’ll tell you -
by the time my brother is able to come back, the room is buzzing. we talk to each other like old friends, laughing, cracking jokes about if you don’t like hospital food wait until you get on an airplane and can’t believe i’m up past two in the morning what a party animal i’m becoming. i am holding the hands of someone named drew, who likes my crow tattoo and making crochet snails.
there are many dark moments full of pain in this world. this - in the low of absolute-dark, absolute-pain: people find a way to paint in it anyway. the color splash of their voices: this triumphant, radiating kindness of - let’s be here together, let me help you, let’s keep going.
i never saw their faces. i can’t remember many of their names. but i think about them often, and the way we all took a deep breath - and did something gentle amongst the pain.
I’ve always loved stories of
inappropriate
marginalia on medieval manuscripts and that’s whay I started thinking about this tale. It ended up being a fable about How to Kill a Mary Sue, I think. It comes from the vault of past Secret Knots too, I hope you like it.
Hullo! You can call me Oracle, though I have a wide variety of nicknames by this point. A little memes, a little fandom, a various now sparsely-touched mishmash, with the occasional art and fic. I'm more on Discord these days than anything.
