i need to find a mail room job at a building or company that only needs like, 20 minutes of work a few times a week
i won’t even charge i don’t care it’s 20 minutes 2-4 times a week i can spare that i love mail rooms i love mail equipment
preferably at a magazine owned and operated by someone with enough money to keep it going despite the fact that the only a handful of similarly eccentric weirdos read it
there needs to be more weirdo magazines
rich people are so goddamn boring
stop trying to overthrow countries stop guzzling tax dollars like you are drowning in a desert
start magazines that have maybe 1000 subscribers
focusing on incredibly niche subjects
that don’t take advertising, or do but only industry-specific so they are arguably content for the magazine (albeit light level)
i know what a blog is
we need more printed and mailed things
I imagine this magazine is run out of one large office, with the printers on the next floor down. They both insist on delivering things by hand instead of email.
I’m not going to get into how close this is to how the studio is run but it’s pretty damn close
Oh oh oh I would LOVE to run the print machines! I don’t want a job I just want to produce jobs. Pretty please?
I would look into your local copy shops. Not for a job, but many have DIY machines in addition to their full service offerings.
What you cannot produce yourself they will handle the end production. This is especially true for paper cutting.
Found this on the ol’ Tubes.
You will NOT be allowed to use an industrial paper cutter yourself in a copy shop (unless they wish to sued out of oblivion… immediately) but it’s usually just towards the back.
At Kinkos or similar, it’s typically $1-2 per cut, so extremely reasonable, and it is so very quickly, and that noise is simply. Divine.
“Here is a giant stack of papers I have designed that I would like to be cut down that would take me ages to do by hand.”
Hhzzzzzt.
“Here you are. Happens that fast. It took about as long to do as it takes someone to read this sentence.”
If you are local to Brandord, CT, there is a shop there that does letterpress printing workshops.
Letter press printing machines can be big and small and here is a convenient link to a small one and it’s just. It’s just so fun to look at. God I love printing almost as I love rambling and the moon knows I love rambling.
I love. Printing. And rambling. (About printing and other things).
Portland, Oregon has the Independent Publishing Resource Center, which not only has two of these giant paper cutters, they will let you use them whenever you want (if you take a training)!
They also have risographs, and letterpresses, and screenprinting which you can use whenever you want after training! I used my powers for good…..
Me this morning, at the cats: stop it. Stop it. No fighting. No. You know what. I’m turning the TV on, and it won’t be cat tv. No. I’m putting on she’s all that because I deserve **a fucking soundtrack >8|**
Me, at the prom scene, dj announcing its spring 1999: *sobbing* oh my god I was so young. I was twenty. Twenty. When this came out. There was so much. So much hope. So much I don’t know and that’s okay. FPJ “I’M NOT YOU, DAD!!!” But you know what, I AM, my dad and also not, and it’s a problem and also okay and Jesus fuck the kids deserve so much better than this shitshow we have now.
And get- hey kids- did you know- did you know that once upon a time we
Went to movies weekly?? We went every Friday after work. To catch the latest release. And it cost about 1- 1.5x minimum wage. In a first run theatre. And there were so many new shows. So. Many. Every week. Pick your flavor.
Hey, y’all. It’s…been a rough couple of weeks. So, I thought–better to light a single candle, right?
If you’re familiar with wildlife conservation success stories, then you’re likely also familiar with their exact polar opposite. The Northern White Rhino. Conservation’s poster child for despair. Our greatest and most high-profile utter failure. We slaughtered them for wealth and status, and applied the brakes too slow. Changed course too late.
We poured everything we had into trying to save them, and we failed.
We lost them. They died. The last surviving male was named Sudan. He died in 2018, elderly and sick. His genetic material is preserved, along with frozen semen from other long-dead males, but only as an exercise in futility. Only two females survive–a mother and daughter, Najin and Fatu.
Both of them are infertile. They still live; but the Northern White Rhinoceros is extinct. Gone forever.
In 2023, an experimental procedure was attempted, a hail-mary desperation play to extract healthy eggs from the surviving females.
It worked.
The extracted eggs were flown to a genetics lab, and artificially fertilized using the sperm of lost Northern males. The frozen semen that we kept, all this time, even after we knew that the only living females were incapable of becoming pregnant.
It worked.
Thirty northern white rhino embryos were created and cryogenically preserved, but with no ability to do anything with them, it was a thin hope at best. In 2024, for the first time, an extremely experimental IVF treatment was attempted on a SOUTHERN white rhino–a related subspecies.
It worked.
The embryo transplanted as part of the experiment had no northern blood–but the pregnancy took. The surgery was safe for the mother. The fetus was healthy. The procedure is viable. Surrogate Southern candidates have already been identified to carry the Northern embryos. Rhinoceros pregnancies are sixteen months long, and the implantation hasn’t happened yet. It will take time, before we know. Despair is fast and loud. Hope is slower, softer. Stronger, in the end.
The first round may not take. We’ll learn from it. It’s what we do. We’ll try again. Do better, the next time. Fail again, maybe. Learn more. Try harder.
This will not save the species. Not overnight. The numbers will be very low, with no genetic diversity to speak of. It’s a holding action, nothing more.
Nothing less.
One generation won’t save a species. But even a single calf will buy us time. Not quite gone, not yet. One more generation. One more endling. One more chance. And if we seize it, we might just get another after that. We’re getting damn good at gene editing. At stem-cell research. In the length of a single rhino lifetime, we’ll get even better.
For decades, we have been in a holding action with no hope in sight. Researchers, geneticists, environmentalists, wildlife rehabbers. Dedicated and heroic Kenyan rangers have kept the last surviving NWRs under 24/7 armed guard, line-of-sight, eyes-on, never resting, never relaxing their guard. Knowing, all the while, that their vigilance was for nothing. Would save nothing. This is a dead species–an elderly male, two females so closely related that their offspring couldn’t interbreed even if they could produce any–and they can’t.
Northern white rhino conservation was the most devastatingly hopeless cause in the world.
Two years from now, that dead species may welcome a whole new generation.
It’s a holding action, just a holding action, but not “just”. There is a monument, at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy, where the last white rhinos have lived and will die. It was created at the point where we knew–not believed, knew–that the species was past all hope. It memorializes, by name there were so few, the last of the northern white rhinos. Most of the markers have brief descriptions–where the endling rhino lived, how it was rescued, how it died.
One marker bears only these words: SUDAN | Last male Northern White Rhino.
If even a single surrogate someday bears a son, we have erased the writing on that plaque forever.
All we can manage is a holding action? Then we hold. We hold hard and fast and long, use our fingernails if we have to. But hold. Even and perhaps especially when we are past all hope.
We never know what miracle we might be buying time for.
The original, as seen below, was posted on Facebook by a guy in Cincinnati. Someone else saw it and thought they would have more luck propagating it if they changed the city to “Detroit,” because in the American popular consciousness, Detroit is a more infamously blighted city than Cincinnati. And indeed, that version was the one that proliferated, because it resonated more with the people who saw it. The original poster and the original city were forgotten.
Does this really matter to anyone (besides Joshua Cromwell)? Perhaps not. But sometimes people do this with things that are more important than porches…
someone stole our fucking meme! can’t have shit in Cincinnati
Oklahoma is attempting to pass a bill that would ban explicit romance novels. Authors, narrators, and sellers could all face fines of up to $100,000 and up to 10 years in jail for each instance.
If you live in OK, call your representative and tell them this bill should not be allowed to pass.
This is likely a test case. Republicans will try to pass it in OK and if it passes other states will likely try to pass similar laws.
In the meantime, get physical copies of books you like. Download those pdfs. Archive your AO3 stories and keep them on a physical hard drive. (Storing those files in the cloud could be problematic in the future as the company managing the cloud service can see what your files are)
I know this doesn’t apply to any of the romance authors on here, but I really hope the Twitter/tiktok authors who cheered on the porn bans and told the rest of us we were crazy to “fear monger” that Romance would fall under fire are having a very “stub your toe for the rest of your natural lives” kind of day.
Me this morning, at the cats: stop it. Stop it. No fighting. No. You know what. I’m turning the TV on, and it won’t be cat tv. No. I’m putting on she’s all that because I deserve **a fucking soundtrack >8|**
amhrancas 