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Created
Tue, 22/07/2025 - 22:00

“President Donald Trump’s NASA budget plans look to cut its public relations funding by half, but already the agency is shuttering social media accounts that include those dedicated to popular missions, including Mars Curiosity, Mars Perseverance, and Voyager.” – Phys.org

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You might have heard that my new NASA handlers decided I need a cleanse from all my social media. A #DigitalDetox. I’d tell you to stay out of my business, but I’m literally a probe, so… I get it. But don’t worry about me: I’ve just been looping Jimmy Carter speeches and majestic whale sounds on my Golden Record while thanking my lucky stars I’m over fifteen billion miles away from you bozos.

Because, at a time like this, with all the apocalyptic undertones back on our home planet, who wants to be reminded of little ol’ me, right? I’m just humanity’s greatest achievement to date.

Created
Tue, 22/07/2025 - 18:14
I Sverige år 2025 låter vi friskolekoncerner med ofta undermålig verksamhet få plocka ut skyhöga vinster – vinster tagna av vår skattefinansierade skolpeng. Tyvärr är denna misshushållning med våra skattemedel ingalunda något nytt och det har under senare år föga förvånande också kommit en jämn ström av krav på ökad kontroll, tuffare granskning och inspektioner. […]
Created
Tue, 22/07/2025 - 17:42

AI Survey

The best technology is designed to meet real world needs of organisations. Doing so ensures the impact technology can generate is maximised. Drupal is used by a wide range of end users and we want to ensure our roadmap for AI is well informed by end users.

For this reason today we invite you to participate in a short survey to communicate what capabilities your organisation values the most, a unique opportunity to have a direct influence on where we focus our investment. 

Not only this, we want to hear through this survey what use cases you have for AI. If you have barriers in place slowing AI adoption what are these and therefore how can we deliver solutions which break down these barriers?

Created
Tue, 22/07/2025 - 09:25

It was early before the woman had taken her morning Starbucks. The line at the Pop Mart in Key West was already long and winding. The people in it had gone days without using a working toilet. Forgoing personal hygiene for the opportunity to purchase this ugly doll would be worth it.

They lived in darkness. A new Labubu would be their light.

Many had already paid their way into many Labubus. Some attached them to their purses like Rihanna. Others wore them loyally on hats. Still others hung them from belt buckle loops like keys to their fading youth.

The woman knew she must obtain this monster doll with bunny ears. She would not be one of the Labubu have-nots. She could not be defeated by the people looking to buy in bulk and resell them on eBay. So she set a series of timers in her bedroom to awaken her at the moment of the next scheduled drop. In case that failed, she constructed an elaborate pulley system. The moment the Pop Mart app sent a notification of a restocked store, it would drop a bucket of whiskey on her face. Usually, this was at midnight on Fridays. As good a time as any to drink.

Created
Tue, 22/07/2025 - 03:00

Matthew Cuthbert was a silent man. He drove a buggy. Mrs. Rachel Lynde, a loud, fat woman, watched him drive by.

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Matthew saw an ugly girl with freckles and red hair. The hair was in braids. He said nothing to her. He stuttered as he spoke to the orphanage head. The orphanage head was a woman, and Matthew only spoke to his sister, Marilla, and Mrs. Rachel Lynde, because she was annoying but she was not annoying to him. The girl sat in the buggy with him and talked and talked. She did not tell him her name. He did not ask her name. Matthew did not mind when she talked and she did not annoy him, much like Mrs. Rachel Lynde did not annoy him when she talked, because he was a homosexual.

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“You don’t want me,” Anne stated. “I am not a boy.”

“Go to hell,” Marilla Cuthbert said.

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Anne made a wreath of berries, lilacs, and lead bullets. She wore it to church. There was laughter, and the laughter was at Anne’s expense.

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“Carrots,” the handsome boy called Gilbert Blythe said. “Your hair is red, and therefore it is like carrots.”