Quick non sequitur: 33 cars on the road this morning, including a singular not-well-hidden police cruiser.

Last two were weirdly pacing each other the last stretch of Dam Neck and I couldn't figure out why.

Caught up to them at the gate and discovered one of them was a base cop.

Still questions.

Anyway.

Could never figure out why so many people left the military, only to turn right back around and come back to do the same (or similar) shit.

And then I think I finally had my "aha" moment this morning:

They fucked up.

Same as me.

Either they didn't get a degree that mattered in any meaningful way.

Or they had the financial self-control of a child in a toy store, treating the entirety of their earnings as disposable income.

Or both.

Or neither.

My department head friend at last place explained to me that he was bored, and there was an opening, so he took it.

I just had a long weekend, and can honestly tell you: at no point was I ever bored.

Granted, the timing happened to line up with Death Stranding: On the Beach being released, but... per the game logs, I've only put about 20 hours into it.

...Which is just a li'l over 20% of my weekend.

Drunk me also had the funny idea Wednesday night of bidding on a sailboat.

"Ain't no fuckin' way you're winning a sailboat for $120," I told myself.

And I was right.

I won the fucking thing for $101.

A Tartan 30, they allegedly average for around $10,000 - $15,000, so you can imagine my surprise to have gotten it.

So.

Yeah.

A sailboat.

On the note of boats, I'm still working my way through the USS Iowa turret explosion article. It started as a way of proving that I could stick to a longer article, and then turned into genuine anger at the whole event and follow-on investigations.

And also: we lost another one of the bearded dragons.

Phillip hadn't been doing so great for the past couple months.

Pretty much... just seemed to have decided it was his time.

There was a point where it seemed like he was making a rebound, but...

Mandy woke me up absolutely shaking in tears last night.

And I...

I just don't react to death. Not in a long time.

Last time I could remember was my ex-wife's dog that had to be put down. He was so old and he just couldn't... he couldn't keep going. When he tried to lift his leg to do his business, he literally toppled over. Each and every time.

So we took him to the vet and asked for euthanasia.

The vet tech hooked him up to the syringe and began the slow injection.

As she finished, he sneezed one last sneeze and...

He was gone.

Jen and I bawled our eyes out for a good long while at that, and I think that moment broke me.

Because I just... I don't care anymore.

And thinking back on my own family, I've lost just about all the older generation.

I think I've got a single uncle left still alive, but...

They're all gone.

Both grandmas.

Both grandpas.

And of course, most recently my mom.

And I just... it didn't matter.

And then death has a shitty way of making you realize just how fucking entangled money is with everything.

In order to get Phillip cremated, it's going to cost $200.

I know this, because he's obviously not the first one to have the service.

Other solutions are to bury him in the back yard, or—and I hate myself for saying it—chuck him in the garbage.

Before you condemn me for being totally heartless (and I wouldn't blame you if you did), I've obviously got a very cavalier attitude on death.

I actually resonate a great deal with the Klingons from Star Trek in that respect: their belief is that once a Klingon dies, all that's left is a husk.

Do with it what you will.

Similarly, I believe... I know that once my own time on this planet is over... all that's left is a bag of meat and bones.

If I had it my way, once I died, there'd be a period of about a week or so to make absolutely sure I was dead. Once the body started looking and/or smelling gross, load it up into a helicopter, fly it over an area of the woods and just punt it out.

Let the wolves get their fill.

Other animals, too, I suppose.

Burial at sea is the next most realistic thing I could request is burial at sea. It's free, and its someone else's problem.

Cremation is... no.

It's not remotely an option.

There was a point somewhere in my life where I'd heard stories of people being loaded into cremation incinerators and they'd sit up and scream.

And though the internet says that's not a thing...

I don't trust people.

And I'm agnostic.

I've no firm belief in an existence after this one, I'd also read about the 21 grams experiment, where there was a minute but detectable decrease in weight at the time of death.

And again, internet/society argues the validity of this.

But we don't know.

Nobody does.

And I've seen at least one or two movies that broached the idea that your non-corporeal form reflects the final moments of your life.

...And I don't want to feel incineration for eternity.

Yeah...

In less sad news...

Iran says their nuclear enrichment will "never stop".

...Which, given our current administration, isn't a great thing to put out there.

I've made it clear through my life that a lot of who I am now was shaped by the media I've consumed. Not quite to the extremes of the titular Cable Guy, but it's up there.

And there are two recent things that tell me what Iran did isn't going to end well.

Spoilers for God of War Ragnarök and Barry coming up riiiiiight...

Now.

In God of War Ragnarök's final story, Kratos has defeated Odin. Loki goes to support Odin and tells him that he has to stop. Odin says that as long as he lives, he'll never stop. Loki tearfully asks him why he had to say that, and then pulls his soul from his body, storing it in a marble. ...Which is then destroyed by a vengeful Sindri.

In Barry, Barry meets up with a friend after a job gone wrong. His friend, also an ex-Marine, can't reckon with what they just did and says he's going to turn himself in. Barry says that he can't let that happen, and that his friend just needs to keep his mouth shut. Friend keeps on saying he won't until he eventually realizes if he goes to the cops, Barry is gonna shoot him. He starts to back track on what he'd said, but it's too late: Barry blows his brains out after agonizing why his friend had to say that.

So.

Yeah.

Based on media-instilled lessons, I don't foresee what Iran has said working out well.

Hope I'm wrong.

But...

Mm.

Got a week off from another coworker that I've started having... problems with. So that's good. But he left without leaving me a proper passdown as to where we stand with regards to the overarching project he's working on, which means I've gotta talk with the development team to figure it out.

Stellar.

At least it's a short week.

Praise the powers that be for small miracles.

Oh, and I watched that new Netflix documentary on the 2013 "poop cruise" incident.

They called it "infamous", but I honestly didn't even know it was a thing until I saw the documentary.

Maybe it was because I was in Japan and just didn't care about what was happening in the world at large.

But still...

Neat documentary.

Always fun to see just how close we are to the brink of anarchy.

One tiny nudge... can push us all into Lord of the Flies territory.

Man, I gotta re-read that.

Imagine you're reading a book, when suddenly an asshole appears out of nowhere and smacks it out of your hands.

Credit to Steve for developing the idea.

And your bullshit shittiness.

Guh.

30 cars on the road this morning.

Largely irrelevant save for that one goddamn rando that decided "I'm gonna keep pace with you all the way to your workplace."

I hope you stub your toe.

...I guess that's my new thing?

Or maybe bite your tongue while you're eating lunch today.

Oh yeah, that one's worse.

I read an article on The Guardian this morning talking about the military folk deployed over in California.

“The US military exists to defend the nation from foreign threats, not to police American streets or intervene in political disputes at home,” a group of retired four-star generals and admirals and high-profile former Pentagon officials said in a statement...

Well, actually...

"I, _____, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."

...Goes without saying that I get their intent.

But also Big Orange is a rather large domestic threat.

We got a weird "Three Laws of Robotics" thing going on here.

So.

Yesterday was mostly good.

Mostly.

I'd made a full-scale replica of a Covenant carbine for my supervisor. I think I brought it in... two weeks ago?

And she'd not taken it home, instead opting to leave it propped up in a rather precarious position.

"She really should take that home," Steve said yesterday morning.

"I agree," I told him. "I'm always worried I'm gonna take that corner a bit too tightly and knock it over and break it."

The carbine is about three or four feet long, and made up of 21 different parts that I'd glued together with epoxy.

Now, anyone that's ever worked with epoxy will tell you: you should prepare the surfaces before using the glue.

But... I'm lazy. And I knew this was for display purposes only.

What I didn't count on was its final resting place being... well, here.

And in what's another example of the simulation breaking down, something happened.

Our newest guy was talking with someone and, at some point, did something that knocked it over.

And sure as shit, it broke.

From what I could tell, he was immediately flustered about it. He spent the next twenty minutes or so trying to get it back together.

"Geez, Terrance," he said, fumbling with it, "Why'd you print it so bad? I've lost faith in your 3D printing abilities."

"Hah. Yeah. I don't make good things."

Immediately started getting stressed.

"And what's with these weird joints? Who prints female connectors on both sides?"

"Yeah... well, I didn't make the model. I just printed it..."

"What kinda glue did you use?"

"Epoxy."

"Are you sure? Because it doesn't seem like that."

More stress. Self-doubt. Self-loathing.

"Haha, yeah... I guess I should've done a better job before I actually glued it..."

He kept on fiddling with the pieces, eventually giving up and putting it in her chair.

But then other folk started in on it.

Asking questions.

Making jokes.

I was getting heated.

Agitated.

Was genuinely considering just leaving, but I still had two or three hours left in the day.

I'd initially decided that I was just gonna leave it as is. I didn't break the thing, nor did I charge money for it. It was a very rare act of kindness that I thought I'd do because I appreciated my supervisor.

But...

Despite the shit he kept on saying, I could tell he was upset about what he'd done.

So I brought in my epoxy this morning to undo the fuckup.

But man.

That whole debacle was stressful as fuck.

And it bore more than a passing similarity to the incident with one of our database folk when I'd just gotten here.

When he man-handled the fuck out of my vase mode fox and basically crushed its neck.

Except in that case, he was super apologetic.

That day I decided he was Lennie.

Of Of Mice and Men fame.

I also discovered a newfound dislike of mine: I don't like it when people dwell on shit.

Which, coming from the guy that dwells on shit like it was his job... well, I get the irony.

Meh.

Oh, and shocker of shockers: Trump Mobile is absolute horse shit.

I'm obviously not a big fan of Big Orange and his spawn, but even if I was completely neutral on their shit show, I know better than to think you can get anything made in America at the cost they were promising for that phone.

$499?

For a smartphone?

It's not impossible. Heck, I got a bargain bin pay-as-you-go Windows phone from the counter at a convenience store a few years ago for about $50.

But it was both low end and made in China.

And the thing is...

Americans have a crazy high sense of self-worth.

The epitome for me, I think, was an episode of Shark Tank I'd watched years ago where the pitchers advertised that the cost of their jeans would be a couple hundred dollars.

A couple hundred dollars.

...For pants.

I very vividly remember myself laughing out loud at that, since I get my pants from Kohl's for about fifteen bucks.

Hell, even the Sharks were complaining about the cost.

Telling them that they should take their manufacturing overseas.

And yeah, I realize the clothes I wear are only as cheap as they are because working conditions in Vietnam are... suboptimal.

Still, for a costume I have to wear?

Yeah, I'll take the fifteen dollar pair o' pants, thanks.

And no, a made in America smartphone isn't possible. Not for that price.

The only American-made smartphone I can think of would be the Purism Librem 5, and that thing is $1,999.

And even then, they provide the sourcing of their parts.

Interestingly, the only things made abroad are the chassis and the Wi-Fi card.

Also worth note: if you decide you can check your patriotism, you can have the non-American-made version for a much more reasonable (given its specs) price of $799.

Still: we just don't have the capability in this country to make high-tech shit from end to end. At some point, you're gonna rely on that Alibaba purchase to cross the finish line.

Shit, even making a grill scrubber in America isn't cheap.

Anyway, to bring this entry to a close...

Best friend sent me a link to a Reddit post talking about a new Japan curfew for American servicemembers: 1830.

Why?

Sexual assault.

Because of course it's sexual assault.

We just can't seem to fucking leave those people alone, and it's infuriating.

And though I was—and still am—a major advocate against group punishment...

I can also understand that it's not easy to determine who, out of a group of 55,000, is going to rape someone.

Aaaaaand looking into the event that caused it, of course it's a Marine.

Sorry, Steve, but of all the horror stories I've heard of our military in Japan, it's mostly the Marines as the perpetrators.

Oh: I decided to go ahead and take Thursday and Friday off.

Since there were a couple pretty ominous warnings about boss man's attitude when he returned.

I trust the source of the omens.

And I choose to opt out.

Good day.

Not sure how that compares with other mornings, since this is the first I decided to start counting.

Yesterday did indeed being one of the best days at work than I've had in a while, and all because of the very distinct absence of a key person.

Now it can be argued that they've been out of the office before in recent days, and even when they are here, there's no guarantee that they'll interfere with my overall process, but...

Imagine you've got a bear in your building.

It's in a different room, though, so you're safe. Ish.

Would it not be better if that bear was in some other building?

Yeah.

It's... it's kinda like that, lol.

Anyway.

I read an article about the whole... "Iran thing" this morning. Couple of things stuck out.

But Republican Speaker of the House Mike Johnson defended the president, saying he "evaluated that the imminent danger outweighed the time it would take for Congress to act" and that there's "tradition of similar military actions under presidents of both parties".

And also:

However, Article II - which lays out the president's powers - says that "the president shall be Commander in Chief of the Army [and Navy]", and sources at the White House have told the BBC they see this as the rationale for the strikes on Iran.

Huh.

And here I thought the Air Force owned the aircraft that struck Iran.

Weird.

And yes, I understand that as time has gone on, we've adapted the guidance for his Commander in Chief role to further encompass the whole military.

But golly, it's fun to be petty.

Especially when leadership started it.

And man, oh man, do I absolutely detest Pete Hegseth.

Dude follows Big Orange around like a goddamn lost puppy that nobody wants.

And I love me some puppies.

I also looked into this War Powers Resolution people have started referencing again.

Apparently its been put to work four times in the past, and... well, it's subjective to as to whether or not those cases were... appropriate?

I just don't understand why we did it.

I keep on seeing reports that Iran and their nuclear program represented an "imminent threat".

But—and I had to make sure I fully understood the word since I thought they changed it—"imminent" is defined as "about to happen".

From what I understand, that wasn't the case.

Though I freely admit to having trust issues, I feel—and I know I'm not alone here—this was akin to setting the house on fire to get rid of the mosquito you kept hearing.

Except the mosquito survived.

And she's rallying the troops to come back in full force.

OH GOD SO MANY MOSQUITOS.

...My take on this is that it's all to play nice-nice with Israel.

We got your backs, brohs.

Which is... fine? I guess?

Except that I also believe we need to stop being Team America: World Police.

Especially when the area we're policing doesn't... seem to give us that much in return? Mostly seems to be things to spite Iran, lol.

But yes, I do agree: let's support and defend the downtrodden.

The weak.

The poor.

But let's face it: Israel has shown that they're anything but any of those things.

They're the spicy chihuahua that'll easily eat your face if given the chance.

Before I forget...

Yesterday, one of the folks in my row asked how to leave a group text.

I zeroed in on "group text" and said "you can't".

But another of the folks said that it's absolutely possible. You just press the "leave group" button.

And that got to me.

Group texts !== group chats.

Group texts use SMS/MMS/RCS, and because of that, it means that if someone in your group is using an Android device you're kinda boned. Your options are to block the group or mute it, and there's no guarantee that it'll stick.

But he was insistent it was possible.

A wager was made.

If he was able to leave the group text, he'd be good. If not, he'd have to eat an entire dill gherkin.

Which is a big deal because he's made it clear that he can't stand pickles.

He showed me on his own phone a group chat he was in, and that there was indeed an option to leave the group.

But I continued to express my concern to him that Android devices would remove that option.

And then he admitted he was unsure.

So.

Got home, grabbed my phone, grabbed my other (Android) phone, and started a group text.

And he was unable to leave it.

"but i can just block the group and i'm fine lol"

And so he did.

At the end of it all, I don't know where fully to stand on it, but I'm leaning in the "don't force a guy to eat a food he doesn't like" direction.

Sorry, Steve. Hope you didn't already buy the pickle.

Kinda considering taking Thursday and Friday off as PTO.

...To maximize time away from the bear.

Pain has started to come back in my belly, despite the Motrin.

And though I know I prolly should get it checked out...

That's generally not my thing.

I've got a long and storied history of injuries and general discomfort that I usually choose to wait out.

It'll get better on its own.

And it's not helped by the fact that my disability rating is still up in the air.

They progressed forward to the "preparing decision letter" stage yesterday, so I'm cautiously optimistic that this'll be the attempt that gets me to that 100%.

Until then, however...

My overriding goal is to remain as chronically broken as I possibly can.

Since medical appointments can spring up at any time.

And I gotta be ready to ace those tests.

Final gripe of today is the meeting we had yesterday for one of our projects.

The customer is a good dude—I do legitimately like the guy—but he can get a bit long with his meetings.

And it's not helped that the project lead doesn't control meetings by any remote stretch of the imagination.

The development team we've got on the project are brilliantly capable, but they're left idling due to the constantly shifting target that is the end requirement.

And both of them absolutely refuse to operate based on assumptions.

Which I get.

But.

This project has been going for at least a year now.

And though the dev team has made solid progress (read: we have a solid foundation now as opposed to zero then), I feel like the overall requirement is simpler than the customer (and various stakeholders) are making it seem.

It's a hiring tool.

Where new employees are invited to apply.

Various people at the company weigh in on potential candidates and decide whether or not they're a good fit.

To me, it seems like the process should literally just be:

1. Candidate gets invited, sponsor department assigned.
2. Candidate accepts/rejects invite.
3. If candidate accepts, they come. If not, retain current package as is for potential future use.
4. Candidate arrives, moves through various interview stages.
5. Sponsor department says yes/no.
6. HR says yes/no. Final decision for junior candidates, recommendation for senior candidates.
7. If candidate is senior, moves on to the president for final decision.

At each stage, the interface is simple: yes/no options with textarea for comments by that particular stage.

Overall package has an interface for anyone at any time to make comments on the applicant.

All in all, I'd say that as described here, the project should be... a week.

At least going by my reckless development standards.

...With a different language.

Meh.

Oh well.

ALLONS-Y!

Maybe the simulation is breaking down.

America is asking China to ask Iran not to close the Straits of Hormuz, which is akin to asking your little brother to ask mom or dad for that thing you're too cowardly to ask for.

(To be fair, I was super guilty of that in my childhood.)

And I can imagine the situation at the White House, too.

"Yes! We've done it. We undertook the most huge, most beautiful missile strike in the history of the world."

"Mr. President... Iran is threatening to close the Straits of Hormuz."

"Who is Hormuz?"

"No, Mr. President. The Straits of Hormuz. A vital oil shipping lane in the middle east."

"Well, we'll just ask China to talk them out of it. They kind of owe me, you know. For settling on those very agreeable tariffs."

"Mr. President, I remind you: Mr. Vice President did refer to them as peasants."

I could keep going, but... I don't wanna.

But it does seem like we know China isn't going to be the most ardent supporter of our cause:

"If they [close the Straits]... it will be economic suicide for them. And we retain options to deal with that, but other countries should be looking at that as well. It would hurt other countries' economies a lot worse than ours."

Ah.

Yes.

So we blew up your shit.

Then you threaten to close down your shipping lane.

We don't want you to do that, but at the same time, we can't ask you not to do that.

So we'll have li'l (or big, depending on whether we're going by population) bro ask you not to do that.

But if he fails.

Then we'll just bomb you some more.

Maybe turn you into the world's hugest, most beautiful Walmart.

But other than the whole... Iran thing...

Mandy complained to me yesterday about how slow people are in this heat.

"It makes no sense," she said. "There's no water on the ground. What the fuck?"

I can't possibly overstate just how big a deal this is, because she's always been the patient one. But also, the one least likely to get angry at traffic.

So.

Yep.

Simulation. Breaking down.

On the note of patience: it should be clear to anyone that remotely knows me that I've got damn near next to zero.

Unless there's a specific reason for waiting, why the fuck do it?

In my case, waiting is generally because:

• That game hasn't released yet,
• Those plants still have months to go to start producing fruit, or
• That epoxy needs at least an hour to cure

For all other things—and I mean all—I'm gonna keep going until I absolutely can't.

So you can imagine my disdain for the current government situation.

It's a story whose very narrative is by design going to take three and a half more years to reach its conclusion.

Shit, I can even get instant gratification on movies: some enterprising young soul (or souls) has already gotten the full plot writeup for 28 Years Later on Wikipedia.

Gonna read it so I can enjoy the story now vice a few months or years from now when I decide to take the 100 minutes of my life to watch the actual movie.

Really wish that was possible for reality: reading the whole story from start to finish in one sitting.

Meh.

At least the operator can enjoy it.

...Unless they went for a bio break.

Anyway.

This morning started off with a bunch of... inconveniences that soured the mood a bit.

First, I forgot something at home and had to go back and grab it.

Then when I was leaving Wawa after topping off the tank, there was enough traffic to cause the tiniest amount of waiting to get on the way to work.

And then when I got on Dam Neck, there were four cars, equally split between both lanes, going down the goddamn road at just below the speed limit.

And when I got a bit too close to one of the guys, they took their foot off the gas.

Unsurprisingly, when I changed lanes, dude sped the fuck up to keep me from getting in front of him.

Which was, thankfully, a moot point, since the two cars in the right lane were turning right.

...But not before slowing down to about 30 miles per hour.

Fucking Christ.

Rest of the commute was mostly unremarkable, with the parting shot being the roundabout.

Let me just state that when I first encountered them, I hated roundabouts.

These days, I'm at best case ambivalent.

But the rules are simple, yes?

If someone is coming from the left, you don't go.

And yet.

As I went around the damn thing, two cars came barreling through on their way out.

Damn near hit the second one, but he slammed on his brakes as I did the same.

And then we got into that awkward fucking dance of "no, you go first".

I had the right of way, for sure, but at this point, I can't fucking trust you to not be a dipshit.

I did ultimately take the initiative and go, but...

This is, again, why I choose to remove you from the equation.

Because you're inconvenient.

And fucking dumb.

Ugh.

On the bright side, though: the next three days have defaulted to 10/10 days.

If you know, you know.

Today took a bit of a beating, though, so we're down to about 8/10.

Though now I'm fixated on that roundabout encounter.

This happened for the first time on Friday.

And then it happened again today.

And golly, though that doesn't necessarily define a pattern, it also doesn't not define one.

O, almighty operator... if thou is merciful, please don't make it a pattern.

Or at least, have the common courtesy to just take me out next time.

Oh, shit.

I guess +1 since Death Stranding: On the Beach has shipped.

Though -1 because my recent completion of the first game left me angry.

Hideo Kojima, though talented in his own rights, is... I think arrogant?

You see his name at the beginning of the game. Multiple times.

And then at the end of the game in the credits. Multiple times.

And then after that in the actual end credits. Multiple times.

What's more: there are three writers in the game, and he makes sure to put an extra space between his name and the other two.

Seriously.

That's gross.

Almost as gross as half an hour of unskippable credits.

And yeah, it's a big deal. Unlike movies, if you want to move on in a video game, you can't just close it and reopen it.

Well... you can, but then you run the risk of missing out on another critical cutscene.

Which, in Kojima games, you absolutely would.