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:
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.
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.