Office Space taught me that robbing the place then burning the whole thing down to the last stapler is a far more profitable solution.
Only thing lacking is having the company owner burning with it but I guess men's reach must sometimes exceed the grasp, or what's a heaven for, mmmk?
Hint: Most of it is literally polyester dust. You know, that stuff produced by the bees.
You know, for kids. Only there we call it "minky fabric".
To stop mothers and other Karens (male, female and otherwise) from complaining about things they clearly know neither jack nor shit about.
Also, we've been making plastics for over a hundred years now. And contrary to popular bullshit - its been falling apart ever since.
Meanwhile, since the introduction of plastics, world population quintupled to over 8 billion and decades were added to life expectancy.
Have you noticed how lately politicians and celebrities (i.e. court and the jesters) keep clocking it in around 90+ to 100 years when they check out?
These are people who grew up in a world where running water, indoor plumbing and IOL were new and incredible technological marvels.
Were the plastics deadly or even harmful to humans, no one would have survived beyond the seventies. The 1970s.
Something tells me we'll continue NOT seeing people dying of microplastics.
Nothing is competing with it as it has ZERO chance of implementation or scaling.
Its only role is as feedstock for making fuel out of atmospheric CO2. It will never be used as fuel directly.
Storage alone would basically be like an attempt to start producing airplanes out of lead as fuel tanks would have to be pressurized, thicker and heavier.
While entire fleets would need replacing every few years due to hydrogen-induced cracking.
Hydrogen is a boondoggle.
And they didn't have personhood until relatively recently.
When they've gotten it by traditional means - they stole it.
How about BBBY?
Maximizing, prioritizing or even valuing shareholder value is a myth.
You're not a customer. You're a chump.
You murdered that poor metaphor. That's why your argument makes no sense.
That, and your understanding of the issue at hand.
No purchase is necessary when the secret police, your employer, your colleague, your spouse, family member or SomeRandomGuyTM simply puts a microphone or camera somewhere near you and records you 24/7 - with AI used to filter, analyze and summarize all that data into six lines or less.
I propose we call such AI Richelieu.
Here's a flip side. What's stopping anyone doing that same thing - but to a bank or a major business?
From what I've seen I'm getting the whybe's (is that what the kids these days call it - the whybe's) of a show which confuses elements of gameplay mechanic with story and plot.
Slap that on top of a linear medium like a TV show - and we've already seen that.
I swear I haven't read this before writing the lines above.
The Vault Boy imagery, which originated in the video games, will have an origin story.
Ah yes... my deepest desire. Origin story of a user interface mascot. How I've longed for that. I guess it IS true what they say.
Sit by the river long enough, you will see a turd float by. Again. And again. And again.
Turd never changes.
Only good bug is a dead bug!
You misspelled the title.
It compiled just fine when I dreamt it last night.
Sure thing! Give me 400 million guns and I'll execute all of them. Hell... I'll throw in centilionaires.
Having (almost) three times the guns of ALL THE ARMIES IN THE WORLD COMBINED you should be able get rid of at least that many parasites.
As I was saying before some sniveling corpo-pussy tried to censor the second amendment clause to distribution of resources...
What use is 400 million guns then...
Force that wealth to trickle down - with their blood. Make golf courses red again.
Just imagine chasing down Elon Musk with an AK, his fat wobbling every which way as you empty clip after clip around him, only nicking him each time, savoring the moment...
Or holing up a whole nest of billionaires into a panic room - then burning the whole place down.
Or blowing up a yacht with everyone on it. Then circling the wreck and plugging off the surviving rats.
Fucking bunch of craven pussies.
If you want to put yourself on the map, publish your own map.
