I forget where I heard the idea from, but I remember someone coming up with a similar idea, just way more sinister. Basically you get a bunch of these really cheap, battery operated speakers like they mention in the comic, but you put sounds on them like creepy children laughing or ghostly noises that are juuuuust loud enough to hear. Set them to have very long timers at random intervals, and scatter them inside someone’s air vents

Op is clearly not from the US midwest. All of the predictions are mental illness here

I’ve been convinced that scripts for several big budget films over the last few years have already been written by LLMs. Scripts for things like The Marvels and the last 2 Mission Impossible films (just the first couple that immediately come to mind) are stream-of-consciousness slop with inconsistent logic, jargon that makes no god damn sense, side characters and tangents that come out of nowhere and do nothing, and really forced 'member berries, because as Jay from RLM puts it; “nostalgia is the new cocaine!”

For my money I’d say “Hot Fuzz”. The script is so tightly written that it’s AMAZING on rewatches. Almost every single line of dialogue is either a joke, set-up for a joke, a payoff, advances the plot, foreshadowing, establishes characters, or some combination of all of these.

The only things I could maybe see people thinking of as plot holes would be how absurd some character motivations are, but to me that just falls into suspension of disbelief.

“Get rotated, idiot”

TEDtoks

The Sun’s radius is ~696,000,000 meters, so the surface area of a perfectly circular cutout would be 1.5218e18 square meters. An article I found says that cardboard used for packing is about 0.35-0.4 kg per square meter, so taking an average of 0.375kg/m^2 gives a total of 5.7069e17kg. This is about the same mass as 40% of all water on Earth.

If it’s 1:1 ratio? The sun

Orange chicken with a side of chocolate milk. I stand by this, even though none of my friends are willing to give it a shot.

At my first job I worked at a local grocery store as a cashier. Normally the store owner would have a playlist of modern pop that would loop at least once per 8hr shift, and he’d change up the playlist every few months. This sucked a lot, but at the time I didn’t know how much worse it would get.

On the closing shift on Halloween night, he started playing his Christmas CD. It was 80 minutes long. On repeat. Nonstop. Until halfway into January. To this day I refuse to listen to any Christmas music at all because fuck that.

Immortality