oh look. it’s the brave little cis boy

What do you think is in the beans??

They’re referring to this: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Name_(brand)

Fingers crossed!

The sheer pleasure in watching an arrogant tit get humbled was chef’s kiss. Once by someone who couldn’t give a shit about him, and was good enough to simply crush him the first few games and then dick about, and once by someone who really wanted a statement victory

It funny because yesterday the chess did not, in fact, speak for itself

Northampton resident detected. Your opinion is invalid.

If you’re going by how we say years pre millennium, it’d be eleven eleven (to match e.g. nineteen eighty four), which still isn’t what’s in the op.

America, given the spelling of neighbour!

Yeah – has the commenter above seen literally any civil war ever? It’s the leftists that show up

But there’s no cigarette :(

They are kissing. Sloppy style. Boobs squishing etc.

Just want to say I entirely agree with you and that I’m really not sure why the other person doesn’t get it. Any musician knows tone/timbre is really important. I play the violin; you can play really fast and that takes skill, but there’s also a hell of a lot of skill involved in getting a nice sound out of a sustained note.

I don’t know quite why you seem to be so hostile to the blues, or anyone that wants to defend the skill of the musicians that play it. If you want to see a skilled blues guitarist doing all the twiddly bits, then I’ll happily point you in the direction of Gary Moore, or blues-adjacent Steve Vai.

And if you’re a metal fan, then maybe you’ll find Metallica’s respect for Gary Moore persuasive.

His sound was not over-processed. It was very, very basic. It basically was a guitar, an amp, a fuzz box and his hands. I remember seeing him in Copenhagen in 1984 or 1985. We were recording Master of Puppets. He was playing a Strat, which is known for a clear, somewhat thin sound. But the sound he was getting out of that Strat was so thick and so full and just so raw. This was before you had all these guitar processors that could make the cheapest guitar sound like the most expensive guitar, so I kinda deduced that most of the sound was in his hands.

I don’t want another animal taking my Freudian pleasure. My pleasure of voring a verdant, fleshy succulent. Feeling the crunching snap of brutality as an innocent plant is ground between my glistering molars. The swallow, the mulched, peppery bolus perestalted down a wet, hungry, pulsing oesophegus. The conversion of what was once a marvel of evolution; a being that could harness the power of a living star to grow and thrive; into fodder for my next bowel movement. From stoma to stoma.

This is not some cool, by-the-numbers optimisation. This is raw, visceral, hungry cruelty.

The old adage can be given greater, poetic specificity. Revenge is a dish best served cold. And it is a salad.

And have still shuddered when I fucked every single dollarydoo.

Fig wasps pollinate the fig, but die in the process. The benefit to the wasp is that as they die they lay their eggs in the fig, which then have a safe space to grow and then burrow out of the fig before it reaches maturity.

“The fig wasp’s life cycle is typified in the caprifig (Ficus carica sylvestris), a wild, inedible fig. Wasps mature from eggs deposited inside the flowering structure of the fig, called the syconium, which looks very much like a fruit. Inside the completely enclosed syconium are the individual flowers themselves. When a wasp egg is deposited in one of the flowers, that flower develops a gall-like structure instead of a seed. The blind, wingless male wasps emerge from the galls and search out one or more galls containing a female, and upon finding one, he chews a hole in the gall and mates with her before she has even hatched. In many cases, the male then digs an escape tunnel for the female. The male then dies, having spent its entire life within the fig. The female emerges later from her gall and proceeds toward the escape tunnel or the eye of the fig (the part opposite the stem end), because she must deposit her eggs in a second fig. In departing, she passes by many male flowers and emerges covered with pollen. During her brief adult life (as short as two days), she flies into the forest to fertilize another fig and deposit another generation of fig wasps.”

I love Solas – their version of a miner’s life is pretty good