TPRJones' Last 100 Shared Items

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In response to a foreigner asking if they could ever be considered 'American', user replies with "Tens of thousands even hundreds of thousands of Americans are born every year around the world. They just haven't come home yet."
Originally Published August 14th, 2017, 05:37 PM

submitted by /u/bsievers

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Tragedy at Charlottesville and The War of Escalation -- Colin's Last Stand (Episode 36)
Originally Published August 14th, 2017, 11:00 AM

/u/hetellsitlikeitis tells is like it is, when a small town Trump supporter asks why he is met with hostility. Best response to a Trump supporter, ever. Polite, but firm.
Originally Published August 13th, 2017, 02:44 PM

submitted by /u/KanKanK

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When asked "How do you know if you are a bad person?", user lists a number of self-reflective questions that everyone would benefit from asking themselves.
Originally Published August 13th, 2017, 06:03 AM

submitted by /u/MrOrsom

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1947 anti-fascist video made by US military to teach citizens how to avoid falling for people like Trump is relevant
Originally Published August 12th, 2017, 09:47 PM

1947 anti-fascist video made by US military to teach citizens how to avoid falling for people like Trump is relevant again.

Third round ever played: From @steam_games: …
Originally Published July 8th, 2017, 07:25 PM

Third round ever played: From @steam_games: …

ALWAYS look a gift horse in the mouth, because someone is going to have to pay the equine dentist.
Originally Published July 7th, 2017, 03:39 PM

ALWAYS look a gift horse in the mouth, because someone is going to have to pay the equine dentist.

7 Ways to Maximize Misery
Originally Published May 31st, 2017, 07:59 AM

FOOTNOTE † : 7 Ways to Maximize Misery
Originally Published May 31st, 2017, 07:51 AM

The Fantastic Masculinity of Newt Scamander
Originally Published May 29th, 2017, 02:42 PM

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) - Movies with Mikey
Originally Published May 26th, 2017, 02:10 AM

Logan: Superhero Movies Get Old
Originally Published May 25th, 2017, 09:00 AM

BAHFest West 2016 - Adam Becker: The Strong Copernican Principle
Originally Published May 22nd, 2017, 01:53 AM

Idea (2/2): Can also come in 8hr, 12hr, whatever, and be made cheap enough to be disposable when battery dies. No more forgetting meds.
Originally Published May 8th, 2017, 09:48 AM

Idea (2/2): Can also come in 8hr, 12hr, whatever, and be made cheap enough to be disposable when battery dies. No more forgetting meds.

Idea: tiny cheap device about size of dime, sticky side into medicine bottle cap, has 24hr timer chirps at you if hasn't been moved.(1/2)
Originally Published May 8th, 2017, 09:48 AM

Idea: tiny cheap device about size of dime, sticky side into medicine bottle cap, has 24hr timer chirps at you if hasn't been moved.(1/2)

Zero G Ferrofluid Fail - (ft. e-penser & Veritasium)
Originally Published May 3rd, 2017, 10:01 AM

This tiny Jyn Erso went to the Star Wars Celebration and handed out copies of the Death Star plans to every Leia: …
Originally Published April 21st, 2017, 03:34 PM

This tiny Jyn Erso went to the Star Wars Celebration and handed out copies of the Death Star plans to every Leia: …


Originally Published April 20th, 2017, 08:42 AM

"Still Treads the Shadow" behind-the-scenes bloopers
Originally Published March 30th, 2017, 08:24 PM

Gag reel for STAR TREK CONTINUES: Episode 8 "Still Treads the Shadow"

Cast: Star Trek Continues

Tags: chuck huber, michele specht, todd haberkorn, kirk, vic mignogna, grant imahara, star trek, wyatt lenhart, enterprise, uhura, sulu, scotty, chris doohan, spock, kim stinger, chekov, kipleigh brown, rekha sharma and mccoy

“Stop talking about my credentials and tell me why you think I’m unfit for office.”
Originally Published March 30th, 2017, 06:48 PM
I’d like you to listen to a phone call. There’s a ton of background information here, and it’s vastly entertaining and horrifying by turns, like so much of the backstory of anything that happens in Trump’s White House, but for now you need to know just two things: Sebastian Gorka, a member of Trump’s security […]

"Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes"
Originally Published March 26th, 2017, 03:31 PM
"Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes"

submitted by /u/yellow_black

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Sir, may I see your authority to enter?
Originally Published March 12th, 2017, 10:32 AM

Many years ago I had succumbed to a patriotic fever and enlisted in the Air National Guard. As such I went to basic training. Yes, it's the same basic training the "Real Air Force" goes to. Anyway...

One of the first bits of training they try to hammer into your skull is the importance of the Dorm Guard (DG). DG is responsible for controlling who has access to the dormitories, reporting headcount to nightwatch, and making sure nobody is slitting their wrists in the shitter or starting fires. It is a very easy job but trainees regularly fuck it up because they can't think straight in a military training environment. If someone knocks on the door the DG has to verify their ID against a list on the back of the door. No ID? No entry. If ID is presented but there is no matching name on the list? No entry. There are only two exceptions. If the person requesting entry has a key and uses the key in the lock (because holding it up to the window to show you are a key holder isn't good enough. Yes, one trainee learned this the hard way.) Or the person requesting entry can use a known code word, but this will only happen in an actual emergency and isn't part of the training experience. To quote my MTL (Military Training Leader) "If Osama bin Laden shows up to the door armed with an RPG and wrapped head to toe in dynamite and he gives you the code word, let the fucker in and stay out of his way."

Everyone will do DG duty and you should expect to be tested. They will yell and threaten, try to trick you, intimate you and beat on the door mercilessly, but the protocol is gospel. Break from the rules and you'll find yourself writing letters to the families of your fellow trainees, explaining that they were killed because you couldn't remember how to guard a fucking door. (Looking at you, Trainee "Oh I see you have a key, let me open the door for you"). Basic is a headgame. They aren't allowed to physically touch you so you are never in any actual danger. All danger is simulated by big bald Sargents yelling. I had the advantage of being almost 10 years older than the average trainee (I celebrated my 28th birthday during BMT.) I've been yelled at before. It doesn't bother me.

It's the middle of the night and I'm on duty. I do a head count. 51 people present, 50 people assigned. This means either I miscounted, or someone is here that isn't assigned to be here, not to mention whoever did the count before me has been fucking it up. I recount, 51/50, and call it in to the MTL on duty (not our regular MTL) via the loud ass squawk box intercom on the wall which everyone in the dorm can hear.

Me: Sir, trainee Youse reports as ordered. Blah blah blah other shit I had to report... Headcount, 50 assigned, 51 accounted for.


ME: Sir, 50 assigned, 51 accounted for.


Now I've already checked and double checked and I have already assumed that this was a paperwork error and not my error but they want me to follow orders and procedures so that is what I will do. I recount and report.

"Sir, 50 assigned, 51 accounted for. "


By now almost everyone is awake anyway so everyone begins to sound off.

"One sir, Two sir, Three sir..... Fourty nine sir, Fifty sir... Cut to the last guy, shaking his head because he's scared of what he knows is coming next... Fifty one sir. "


The dorm is a 2 minute walk from CQ. He was there in about 9 seconds banging on the door. But, being as mad as he was, he stormed over without his key, his ID, and had apparently forgotten the fact that there was a single word that would open the door instantly. He was focused on fixing whatever was jacked up with my headcount.

Banging on the door. OPEN UP!

"Sir, may I see your authority to enter? "


"Sir, without valid ID I am forced to refer you to CQ for authorization."


"Sir, without valid ID I cannot allow you access to the dorm. Please contact CQ for authorization. "

By now the other trainees are nervous, and some are telling me to open the door while others are insisting I keep it shut, perhaps indefinitely because the Sgt. sounds like he may actually end someone's life tonight. I stick to the program and we go back and forth like this a few more times. I've honestly never had anyone this angry with me in my life, but all my replies are literally written on the back of the door so I keep reading them to him, which only makes him madder and madder each time. By now it's been 20 minutes since first count and he's used up every threat and insult at his disposal and is forced to stop and think. He remembers the code word.


I opened the door immediately. He bolts passed me with only the slightest pause for some direct eye contact which sent the message that he would be back shortly to harvest my flesh for a new suit he was going to make, and he begins to count.




Then from the last bunk "Umm, sir?" It's a guy we don't recognize. All our counting thus far took place in the dark. Until the Sgt was in the room and he turned the lights on we had no idea. It turns out this kid had graduated the day before but needed to be warehoused for a few weeks while he waited for his next training assignment to begin. He was supposed to be there, but since he wasn't on our roster, he was not included in the headcount. Promises of extreme punishment were issued and we were told that this wasn't over and that the morning would be terrible for all of us, especially me.

At 0530 I was called on the carpet to explain why I refused to allow the Sgt to perform his duties. I stated plainly and simply that there were protocols and procedures in place for me to follow. I had been told never to deviate and that I would be tested. I had performed my duties to the best of my abilities. They could find no fault with this and I was never punished. My MTL (not the one from night watch) later quietly congratulated me for sticking to the protocol. Ultimately it reflected well on both of us.

Tl;Dr: Fix your attention span and learn to read a page or two of text. This post may or may not be worth it but someday one will be.

submitted by /u/Youse_a_choosername

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I miss the commentary on the old strips... has real life overtaken you? Too much to do?
Originally Published February 26th, 2017, 10:00 AM

Short answer: yeah

Long answer: I’m a politically aware person and a student of history. Since the election, everything is…different.

“Not normal” is a phrase that’s been thrown around a lot lately. It started before the election, when Trump engaged in behaviors that would have gotten any other candidate in history yanked off the stage with a hook. (Remember when Howard Dean shouted a little too loudly and that ruined his candidacy?) And since the election, what would have been obscene behavior in any politician –let alone the President of the United States of America!– has become common and, in many instances, celebrated. The same can be said of many of those who follow Trump, and their…uh…let’s just go with “embrace of divisiveness” to sum up what is essentially an enormous bonedry fuckpile of animosity towards anyone even slightly different than themselves.

But, as writers much smarter than myself have pointed out, this is normal. Persons from marginalized groups have been. Shouting. For. Years. about the deeply embedded mentalities that have allowed someone like Trump to take power. That social and cultural constructs that were becoming more progressive (Trans & queer rights beginning to be recognized? Gay marriage legalized? YAY!!!) were just a pretty veneer slapped over the rot beneath.

I didn’t listen. Before all this happened, I considered myself a woke liberal lady. But when conservative friends and relatives would say something about “those people,” I didn’t push back: I’d excuse myself and go to the restroom and hope the conversation would be over by the time I returned. Because these problems were fixing themselves, right? We were moving forward, not backwards, and my buddies would either catch up with the rest of us or atrophy out of existence.

Besides, I thought, everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Look at this bullshit I wrote back in January of 2016:

I don’t think that staying silent is a good thing in and of itself. I strongly believe we each need to raise our voices and stand against problems that actively cause harm. But-and here’s the bitch of the thing-we live in a society. A society can’t exist without communication and compromise. One of the major themes in AGAHF (comic and novels) is that political polarization doesn’t help the general public. Everyone’s opinion is not valid, but that’s the magic of consensus, as the views of the majority are made valid by transforming them into law.

Well, I still believe in communication. I still emphatically endorse compromise, especially in politics, where we must sacrifice the perfect to achieve the good. But we’re now in a position in which extremely divisive views are becoming law. Not because a majority of the country wants them, but because a vocal minority took control.

You might have seen the statistic floating around that at the height of their power, only 10% of all Germans were themselves Nazis.

So, yeah. Life has overtaken me. Partially because I’m fighting depression tooth and nail. Partially because I’m now doing the protest thing, and the activist thing, and becoming active in my local political sphere–all shit that I should have done long before now, because, maybe, if I had, and if three million other people like me had, we wouldn’t be sandwiched dead in the middle of this joyless fuckpile right now.

And don’t get me started on Russia. Holy shit. Holy shit.

I’ll try and be better about updates, but it’s really all I can do to keep the comic going right now.

Hugs, faith, #RESIST

The Other Half
Originally Published February 24th, 2017, 05:12 AM

On January 19th of this year, I set off to California to participate in a hastily-arranged appearance in a UCLA building to talk about saving climate data in the face of possible administrative switchover. I wore a fun hat, stayed in a nice hotel, and saw an old friend from my MUD days for dinner. The appearance was a lot of smart people doing good work and wanting to continue with it.

While there, I was told my father’s heart surgery, which had some complications, was going to require an extended stay and we were running out of relatives and companions to accompany him. I booked a flight for seven hours after I’d arrive back in New York to go to North Carolina and stay with him. My father has means, so I stayed in a good nearby hotel room. I stayed with him for two and a half weeks, booking ten to sixteen hour days to accompany him through a maze of annoyances, indignities, smart doctors, variant nurses ranging from saints to morons, and generally ensure his continuance.

In the middle of this, I had a non-movable requirement to move the manuals out of Maryland and send them to California. Looking through several possibilities, I settled with: Drive five hours to Maryland from North Carolina, do the work across three days, and drive back to North Carolina. The work in Maryland had a number of people helping me, and involved pallet jacks, forklifts, trucks, and crazy amounts of energy drinks. We got almost all of it, with a third batch ready to go. I drove back the five hours to North Carolina and caught up on all my podcasts.

I stayed with my father another week and change, during which I dented my rental car, and hit another hard limit: I was going to fly to Australia. I also, to my utter horror, realized I was coming down with some sort of cold/flu. I did what I could – stabilized my father’s arrangements, went into the hotel room, put on my favorite comedians in a playlist, turned out the lights, drank 4,000mg of Vitamin C, banged down some orange juice, drank Mucinex, and covered myself in 5 blankets. I woke up 15 hours later in a pool of sweat and feeling like I’d crossed the boundary with that disease. I went back to the hospital to assure my dad was OK (he was), and then prepped for getting back to NY, where I discovered almost every flight for the day was booked due to so many cancelled flights the previous day.

After lots of hand-wringing, I was able to book a very late flight from North Carolina to New York, and stayed there for 5 hours before taking a 25 hour two-segment flight through Dubai to Melbourne.

I landed in Melbourne on Monday the 13th of February, happy that my father was stable back in the US, and prepping for my speech and my other commitments in the area.

On Tuesday I had a heart attack.

We know it happened then, or began to happen, because of the symptoms I started to show – shortness of breath, a feeling of fatigue and an edge of pain that covered my upper body like a jacket. I was fucking annoyed – I felt like I was just super tired and needed some energy, and energy drinks and caffiene weren’t doing the trick.

I met with my hosts for the event I’d do that Saturday, and continued working on my speech.

I attended the conference for that week, did a couple interviews, saw some friends, took some nice tours of preservation departments and discussed copyright with very smart lawyers from the US and Australia.

My heart attack continued, blocking off what turned out to be a quarter of my bloodflow to my heart.

This was annoying me but I didn’t know it was, so according to my fitbit I walked 25 miles, walked up 100 flights of stairs, and maintained hours of exercise to snap out of it, across the week.

I did a keynote for the conference. The next day I hosted a wonderful event for seven hours. I asked for a stool because I said I was having trouble standing comfortably. They gave me one. I took rests during it, just so the DJ could get some good time with the crowds. I was praised for my keeping the crowd jumping and giving it great energy. I’d now had been having a heart attack for four days.

That Sunday, I walked around Geelong, a lovely city near Melbourne, and ate an exquisite meal at Igni, a restaurant whose menu basically has one line to tell you you’ll be eating what they think you should have. Their choices were excellent. Multiple times during the meal, I dozed a little, as I was fatigued. When we got to the tram station, I walked back to the apartment to get some rest. Along the way, I fell to the sidewalk and got up after resting.

I slept off more of the growing fatigue and pain.

The next day I had a second exquisite meal of the trip at Vue Le Monde, a meal that lasted from about 8pm to midnight. My partner Rachel loves good meals and this is one of the finest you can have in the city, and I enjoyed it immensely. It would have been a fine last meal. I’d now had been experiencing a heart attack for about a week.

That night, I had a lot of trouble sleeping. The pain was now a complete jacket of annoyance on my body, and there was no way to rest that didn’t feel awful. I decided medical attention was needed.

The next morning, Rachel and I walked 5 blocks to a clinic, found it was closed, and walked further to the RealCare Health Clinic. I was finding it very hard to walk at this point. Dr. Edward Petrov saw me, gave me some therapy for reflux, found it wasn’t reflux, and got concerned, especially as having my heart checked might cost me something significant. He said he had a cardiologist friend who might help, and he called him, and it was agreed we could come right over.

We took a taxi over to Dr. Georg Leitl’s office. He saw me almost immediately.

He was one of those doctors that only needed to take my blood pressure and check my heart with a stethoscope for 30 seconds before looking at me sadly. We went to his office, and he told me I could not possibly get on the plane I was leaving on in 48 hours. He also said I needed to go to Hospital very quickly, and that I had some things wrong with me that needed attention.

He had his assistants measure my heart and take an ultrasound, wrote something on a notepad, put all the papers in an envelope with the words “SONNY PALMER” on them, and drove me personally over in his car to St. Vincent’s Hospital.

Taking me up to the cardiology department, he put me in the waiting room of the surgery, talked to the front desk, and left. I waited 5 anxious minutes, and then was bought into a room with two doctors, one of whom turned out to be Dr. Sonny Palmer.

Sonny said Georg thought I needed some help, and I’d be checked within a day. I asked if he’d seen the letter with his name on it. He hadn’t. He went and got it.

He came back and said I was going to be operated on in an hour.

He also explained I had a rather blocked artery in need of surgery. Survival rate was very high. Nerve damage from the operation was very unlikely. I did not enjoy phrases like survival and nerve damage, and I realized what might happen very shortly, and what might have happened for the last week.

I went back to the waiting room, where I tweeted what might have been my possible last tweets, left a message for my boss Alexis on the slack channel, hugged Rachel tearfully, and then went into surgery, or potential oblivion.


Obviously, I did not die. The surgery was done with me awake, and involved making a small hole in my right wrist, where Sonny (while blasting Bon Jovi) went in with a catheter, found the blocked artery, installed a 30mm stent, and gave back the blood to the quarter of my heart that was choked off. I listened to instructions on when to talk or when to hold myself still, and I got to watch my beating heart on a very large monitor as it got back its function.

I felt (and feel) legions better, of course – surgery like this rapidly improves life. Fatigue is gone, pain is gone. It was also explained to me what to call this whole event: a major heart attack. I damaged the heart muscle a little, although that bastard was already strong from years of high blood pressure and I’m very young comparatively, so the chances of recovery to the point of maybe even being healthier than before are pretty good. The hospital, St. Vincents, was wonderful – staff, environment, and even the food (incuding curry and afternoon tea) were a delight. My questions were answered, my needs met, and everyone felt like they wanted to be there.

It’s now been 4 days. I was checked out of the hospital yesterday. My stay in Melbourne was extended two weeks, and my hosts (MuseumNext and ACMI) paid for basically all of the additional AirBNB that I’m staying at. I am not cleared to fly until the two weeks is up, and I am now taking six medications. They make my blood thin, lower my blood pressure, cure my kidney stones/gout, and stabilize my heart. I am primarily resting.

I had lost a lot of weight and I was exercising, but my cholesterol was a lot worse than anyone really figured out. The drugs and lifestyle changes will probably help knock that back, and I’m likely to adhere to them, unlike a lot of people, because I’d already been on a whole “life reboot” kick. The path that follows is, in other words, both pretty clear and going to be taken.

Had I died this week, at the age of 46, I would have left behind a very bright, very distinct and rather varied life story. I’ve been a bunch of things, some positive and negative, and projects I’d started would have lived quite neatly beyond my own timeline. I’d have also left some unfinished business here and there, not to mention a lot of sad folks and some extremely quality-variant eulogies. Thanks to a quirk of the Internet Archive, there’s a little statue of me – maybe it would have gotten some floppy disks piled at its feet.

Regardless, I personally would have been fine on the accomplishment/legacy scale, if not on the first-person/relationships/plans scale. That my Wikipedia entry is going to have a different date on it than February 2017 is both a welcome thing and a moment to reflect.

I now face the Other Half, whatever events and accomplishments and conversations I get to engage in from this moment forward, and that could be anything from a day to 100 years.

Whatever and whenever that will be, the tweet I furiously typed out on cellphone as a desperate last-moment possible-goodbye after nearly a half-century of existence will likely still apply:

“I have had a very fun time. It was enormously enjoyable, I loved it all, and was glad I got to see it.”


I made a shitty claw machine
Originally Published February 22nd, 2017, 01:43 PM
I made a shitty claw machine

submitted by /u/simsalapim

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Originally Published February 21st, 2017, 02:35 PM

submitted by /u/crumbbelly

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If You Think You Need Some Lovin - Pomplamoose - Live
Originally Published February 21st, 2017, 12:30 PM

Originally Published February 17th, 2017, 01:49 PM

submitted by /u/Pyrolistical

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RIP Onyx, you were the sweetest kitty I've ever known. You will be intensely missed. Thank you @VCAPetHealth for being so kind.
Originally Published February 6th, 2017, 12:28 PM

RIP Onyx, you were the sweetest kitty I've ever known. You will be intensely missed. Thank you @VCAPetHealth for being so kind.

Originally Published January 11th, 2017, 04:04 PM

submitted by /u/frozzenwaterfall

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