unsanitary cw

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

seat-safety-switch:

Once again, I am tested by my circumstances. The local animal shelter was looking for someone to drive some dogs to their various appointments. That responsibility fell to me, a drivers-license-having individual with a community service requirement with an “exponent” symbol in it in Microsoft Excel, to truck them there. Nobody else wanted to do it, possibly because some of the dogs have what medical experts are calling “the terror shits.”

Naturally, I couldn’t do this in my own car. Not only is the Volare incapable of holding any passengers due to the structural rust issues, but I like to keep the car clean. That’s why there’s the big holes in the floor: any dropped candy wrappers, stray strands of hair, or spilled coffees will just run out when I lift the floor mat on the expressway. No: the animal shelter was very insistent that what I would receive is a 2005 Chevy Express van, white-on-white.

This van was, well, a van. For some reason, everyone I met was apologizing to me about “how old” it was, and how they had “no money” in the budget with which to upgrade it. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was several decades newer than anything I’d ever operated, and I was a little bit intimidated by driving something that could go forward and backward, without having to turn the engine off and push it a little bit first.

Still, after a few minutes on the road, I immediately saw what they meant. It didn’t have any soul, this new automobile, being enormously competent at virtually every task. It didn’t shake violently on the highway, all the doors stayed closed, and it could go around corners without the windshield falling out. Soon, I was going an integer multiple of the posted speed limit, still feeling it was too slow because the sensation of danger was no longer prickling its way up my spine. I was practically falling asleep, and when I arrived at the vet’s office an hour away nearly 45 minutes ahead of schedule, I decided something had to be done for the safety of my canine charges.

While the dogs were in the shop, getting their tires rotated, I decided to do a little bit of work on my own. I had been stuck behind a slow-moving BMW SUV on the off-ramp. It was now parked outside a realtor’s office, taunting me with its copious reserve of compressed air and torque. I decided that if they weren’t gonna use their turbocharger, then I should rightfully be entitled to it. After all, it’s for the public good: who would deny these dogs an efficient, comfortable ride? Using the BMW’s toolkit and a piece of parking lot rebar as a lever, I soon had the turbocharger worked off of the engine, dropped out the bottom, and swaged into the van’s induction system. To test it out, I jumped in and pinned the throttle a few times, hearing the delightful whoosh of at least a hundred more horsepower. Yeah. This would do nicely.

All I’m legally allowed to tell you about what happened next is two things. One, the van really was less boring after all this work. The little V8 sang with the joys of forced induction, and the tires smoked well through however many gears this magic future transmission had in it. Two, it was a good thing I was going to the dog groomer’s next, because none of these animals were in a presentable shape. It turns out dogs afflicted with the terror-shits don’t like to pull a deep thirteen-second quarter mile, which is definitely something they should have told me before they gave me the keys.

Not every day of volunteering is going to be perfect. Next time I go back, I think I’ll cut a hole in the floor instead. At least that will make the cleanup easier.

Tags:

#storytime #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #(”arrived at the vet’s office an hour away nearly 45 minutes ahead of schedule”) #unreality cw #unsanitary cw #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

tanadrin:

An evil wizard holds you at gunpoint and requires you to choose one of the following emotions to lose forever. You will not feel the faintest trace of it ever again. Which do you pick?

evil-wizard-negative-emotion-poll

​

tanadrin:

Mildly surprised by the results of this poll, given that it’s a dead heat between the three for me. I suppose it shouldn’t be entirely surprising that shame wins, since it is in some ways a very social emotion, and how others perceive us (and our worries about how they perceive us) occupies a lot of our thoughts. But though I would gladly dispense with all three emotions, if I somehow could, a small sense of shame seems the most useful, since it is at least sometimes a useful key to whether others might be put off or annoyed by our actions.

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jadagul:

I’m confused by the idea that this is an evil wizard. Losing shame and losing anger both seem clearly net positive to me?

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kata4a:

oh wow. fear and shame both seem straightforwardly useful to me in a way that anger does not

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apricops:

“What could possibly go wrong with losing my sense of shame,” I say five minutes before shitting myself in public

​

tanadrin:

There was a woman born with a congenital condition that prevents her feeling fear interviewed on, I think Radiolab a while back; something that struck me about the interview was that feeling no fear didn’t interfere with her life 99% of the time; it certainly didn’t make her more inclined to play in traffic as a kid or anything. Her cognitive ability to predict and avoid harm was perfectly intact. They did indicate (though did not really detail) that there were a handful of occasions in her life where a lack of being able to feel fear led her into riskier situations, but this was more akin to what a naive or trusting person might experience–if anything, someone who feels no fear would be less likely to be, say, an adrenaline junkie who takes risks because they experience a fear response in a particular way.

I think if you were cognitively normal except unable to experience shame, you probably wouldn’t shit your pants more often in public (so to speak); you would retain your ability to predict which situations might cause you to accrue negative social capital and to avoid them. I think a lot of what fear and shame (and all our other emotions do) is help us cache those calculations, or reinforce the desire to avoid behaviors, but we don’t depend on them to act like, in basically sane and rational ways. If you had no trace of shame I do expect your behavior would be at least a little different, unless it was really working hard to restrain some deeply unpopular compulsion, but I don’t think it would actively incentivize acting in weird ways.

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discoursedrome:

more than anything else this poll made me feel perplexed about how different I am than others. I picked anger because it seems, like, really obviously the best choice, but it’s the least popular! Shame and fear are both defensive emotions, in the sense that they’re designed to protect you from threats, but anger is largely an offensive emotion; I’m much more concerned about compromising my defensive capabilities than my offensive ones, since society doesn’t feel like the kind of situation where you can just plow through everything with a strong preemptive assault. I think maybe the square-jawed dynastic banker guys can pull that off, which is why they do so much cocaine? But it’s not, like, usual. Having no sense of anger feels much safer than the other two.

I suppose the results are complicated by people’s individual tendencies, though, too. Someone who has way too much of a particular thing would probably be biased to get rid of it, so at least some of this might be that the reclusive tunnel-dwellers of Tumblr have more fear and shame than anger on the balance.

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togglessymposium:

Anger is absolutely a useful, load-bearing element of my life. It’s motive, in a way that the others are not; it’s one of the basic things that distinguishes between the world I live in and the world as I want it to be. Reducing that better world to a mere ‘would be nice’ is… extremely disturbing to me.

So I guess I can agree that it’s ‘safer’ to get rid of anger, in that it’s not likely to result in dangerous situations for you or anybody else. But it’s also a life of extreme complacency, in a way that’s directly counter to many of my core values. Without anger, there’s no sense of unfairness; without unfairness, there’s no aspiration to justice. Most notably, I really hate death, to the point of being slightly loony about it- without that, I’m fairly sure my baseline personality would look very different.

Man, reading this thread makes me feel like one of those colourblind people wondering why people are making such a big deal about subtle variations in shades of brownish-gray.

I read through the notes, and almost *every* example that *every* person brings up for *every* emotion on this list parses as fear to me.

I’m reblogging this particular version primarily because of how surprising it is to see someone describe the-painful-awareness-of-the-gap-between-how-the-world-is-and-how-it-ought-to-be as *anger*, when as I experience it…okay, some of it is disgust† and a fair bit of it is simply pain (which is not exactly an emotion per se), but the rest is basically a *central example* of fear to me.

By the time I saw this post it was too late to vote on it, but I’d have gone with anger. I can’t say I’d be *fully* comfortable with “dealing with my inability to (safely, ethically, etc) satisfy my bloodlust†† by cutting it out of my soul”, but I have to admit it *would* be the most practical approach.

(I’m not going with shame because I absolutely do not understand what it would mean to cut out shame but leave fear intact, and I’m not fucking with that. At least there is *a* thing that it would mean to me to cut out anger while leaving the others, even if I’m not drawing that line in the same place as anyone else.)

—

†shitting myself in public would *also* be disgust, BTW: shitting myself in private does not seem like it would be significantly less unpleasant modulo bathroom access

††I cannot *begin* to wrap my head around what “non-violent anger” would be like as a quale, I suppose next you’re going to tell me eths can be placed at the ends of syllables

Tags:

#this also happens a lot when people are talking about sadness #reply via reblog #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #anger management #surveys #unsanitary cw #violence cw? #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

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brin-bellway:

https://brin-bellway.dreamwidth.org/128631.html

@itsbenedict​ replied: this is a phenomenon that drives me to bestial, murderous rage

When I went in for lunch shift the next morning, the fly had evolved overnight into a wasp. Fortunately, I only ever saw it once, out by the soda machine.

Six days later, I found a very dead wasp curled up next to a heating element. Until next time, then.

Tags:

#(posted this too soon‚ sorry about that) #bugs #replies #oh look an update #unsanitary cw #death tw? #in which Brin has a job #trying to keep this lighthearted in keeping with the original joke

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

virtualyric:

scientia-rex:

asmrican:

boeing747:

i think grossness is a vital aspect of life btw and we all experience it and i think its important to represent in art and i think oversanitization of popular media is 100% our downfall. things are gross and disgusting and yucky and thats life we cannot deny ourselves this

5b8e90736dabd90c0efe627961848560a8da33ad

I keep thinking about this in the context of caring for my ageing patients. No one TELLS them, before they’re old, how things are going to change, or why. No one talks about the loss of elastin, and how that doesn’t just affect your skin looking old, but also how it heals. No one warns them that their skin will become paper-thin if they live long enough, incredibly fragile and easy to tear. Just “hurr dur wrinkly!!!”

No one tells them their bowels are going to lose strength and coordination, so it gets more and more difficult to have bowel movements. No one warns them about obstipation, much less bowel obstructions. I have a saying I repeat often in clinic: “Proper pooping prevents problems!” I say it because it makes people chuckle, because it destigmatizes needing to poop. Everyone poops. And it turns out pooping requires both a complex network of nerves to create peristalsis, and stools soft enough to move through the bowels, and I have watched more than one elderly patient die because their bowels stopped working right.

No one talks about hemorrhoids, so I have patients coming in terrified by blood in their stools–and listen, blood in your poop is definitely a good reason to see a doctor; if you’re over 50 and you haven’t had a colonoscopy, get one. It’s the best health screening we have evidence for, in my opinion. Colon cancer is a bitch. But more commonly, people have bloody stools because they have either hemorrhoids that are bleeding or because they have an anal fissure after straining on a hard bowel movement. Do you know what a hemorrhoid is? I didn’t, until I was well into medical school. Everyone has them. They’re venous columns that surround the rectum and anus. Internal ones can bleed; external ones can itch. Most people will get them eventually. Be kind about them.

Everyone is going to have trouble peeing if they live long enough. Men can’t start, women can’t stop. Because people with prostates will often have benign enlargement of the prostate–it’s not cancer, but it gets bigger–and the urethra, the tube that lets urine leave the bladder, goes through the prostate. Bigger prostate = compressed tube, less flow. Meanwhile, people with uteruses have much shorter urethras, which means that when we lose that beautiful collagen and elastic, we also lose it in the two sphincters that help us keep from leaking urine, and so we leak urine. Especially when something triggers an increase in intra-abdominal pressure, like a sneeze or a cough or a laugh.

All these things people are taught to be ashamed of and embarrassed about–they are so common. They’re normal parts of having a human body and doing the things one does with a human body. Poop trouble? Welcome to the club! People have been writing about their cures for constipation for as long as written language has existed. Listen, you are not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone. And that means that when someone else has a gross problem, you must be kind to them, because that is going to be you. There will be a day when you have diarrhea, because viral gastroenteritis spreads like wildfire every winter. There will be a day when you cough a huge glob of mucus comes out, because mucus is a natural defense mechanism and kind of miraculous but also nasty. Every gross thing a body can do, yours is likely to do, if not now then later.

Be kind.

Most of the responses to this are about how gross bodily stuff shouldn’t be stigmatized, it shouldn’t be viewed as a moral failure, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, and it shouldn’t be covered up or lied about, especially since it can be very important information for health.

Which is indeed the important message here, so I’m glad there are so many responses like that!

But I do want to go back to the initial post saying that “grossness is a vital aspect of life” and “we cannot deny ourselves this”.

Maybe it’s just saying that our lives function a certain way right now and we aren’t currently able to change that. But a phrasing like “vital aspect of life” really sounds like it’s going beyond that. It sounds like it’s saying that if it was possible to live a life free of this gross stuff, that in itself would constitute some sort of impoverishment of experience.

And sure, maybe deep grossness (as opposed to just, like, finding the architectural style of someone’s house to be vaguely yucky according to your personal tastes or whatever) is something that some people would miss having in their lives if they somehow didn’t have it; maybe they actually would feel impoverished and would go seek out gross experiences, and I want them to be able to get what they want!

But not everyone would miss that. If it was possible to live without the gross aspects of life that are currently inescapable, that would be a great thing for some of us. I wouldn’t be losing any important part of who I am, if I had the choice to live without that gross stuff and I took it.

Tags:

#…yeah to me the obvious reading of OP is ”escapist fiction is wrong‚ if you’re not disgusted by what you’re watching you #ought to get a different movie” #(I originally wrote ”reading” and ”book” there‚ but actually this is a much bigger issue with video because it’s harder to skim) #the stuff in the comments about the importance of having forewarning about aging is good‚ but… #…are they *sure* they’re actually agreeing with OP? #I’d be a lot more willing to reblog that comment if it weren’t attached to OP #originally I’d decided against it‚ but with this new addition I’m leaning towards #(I guess the main argument I can see for not reading OP that way is that #there’s a difference between saying *more* media should be gross and saying *all* media should be gross) #(but…what media environment are they living in such that the grossness levels are far too *low*?) #(*I* go upstairs in the afternoon and find Mom watching a movie about people dying horribly of hyper-Nipah‚ you know?) #((and that’s if I’m lucky and she doesn’t try to watch it in the living room over the speakers)) #(and honestly I’m still not 100% over the very visceral food-poisoning scene in Minority Report) #(people in movies are *constantly* yelling in each other’s faces‚ making out‚ getting covered in blood) #((sometimes all in the same scene!)) #(yeah‚ yeah‚ I know‚ something something pathogen-stress hypothesis) #–((it’s a different person‚ but I notice the aging-forewarning commenter casually mentions viral gastroenteritis as ”a day”)) #((which‚ uh))– #(but god‚ please‚ don’t make *me* live at *your* setpoint) #tag rambles #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #aging cw #unsanitary cw #discourse cw #medical cw

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~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

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openamenta:

@sojournthemoon

The most popularly mentioned symptom of hypersensitivity is thinking or feeling that things are polluted when they aren’t.  But it’s not the only one.  Many hypersensitives also have “obstructed melioration”, where – especially if something is actually polluted or actually has something on it – they are so paralyzed by their feelings of disgust that they can’t take actions to clean.

You can be diagnosed with some forms of hypersensitivity even if you never make a mistake on a test of pollution identification.  If you can’t touch the dishes so you can’t wash the dishes; if you can’t stand the smell of dust so you never jack up the couch to sweep it up; if something spilled in your fridge last month and you haven’t been able to open it since then even though it was only ketchup at the time, so now it’s a mold ecosystem you’d need to go after with bleach?  If you have a meltdown every time you visit the bathroom and spend two hours sitting there panicking and procrastinating on cleaning up because that would mean thinking about it?  If you can’t wash your hands because you’d notice the slightly less clean water rinsing off them?  If you haven’t shampooed in six weeks because whenever you wash your hair it accumulates in the drain catch and then you’d have to pick it out?  If you have any trouble explaining what needs doing to a professional cleaner because the words taste bad?  Then you’re (insofar as you can be diagnosed online) hypersensitive.

If something is so gross that you can’t clean it – not because there aren’t enough gloves and masks and chemicals, just because you can’t stand to think about it that hard, engage with the existence of a mess that needs to be cleaned up – then that’s hypersensitivity, and it’s a disability.

Anyway, how do you all feel about cleaning reds?

#unreality cw? #yet also‚ at the same time‚ very true #I think about this post every fucking time I flinch away from cleaning my fridge #(today’s reblog brought to you by my brother finally throwing out the ~month-old corn that was‚ in his words‚ “no longer yellow”) #(I soaked the bowl with lots of soap for a day or so and managed to clean it after that) #(…now I just need to clean the *other* moldy food container‚ currently sitting beside the sink with its lid on) #(……maybe I will wash the other dishes first)

Update:

About twelve days later, my brother came home with a takeout container from his workplace. He mentioned he was planning to recycle it once he was done with it, because “we already have enough containers”.

I proposed that we instead recycle the moldy one and wash the new one, and everyone with a stake in the matter agreed. (That is to say, I did not bother to ask Dad because I knew he wouldn’t care.)

All’s well that ends well.

(In my defence, I’ve been covering a *lot* of shifts at work the past few weeks (especially those couple weeks), and had a lot less time and skin-HP [link] for dishwashing than usual. At no point during those twelve days was I caught up on all other dishes.)

Tags:

#oh look an update #reply via reblog #(ish) #in which Brin has a food poisoning phobia #domesticity #in which Brin has a job #food #unsanitary cw #Amenta RP #unreality cw?

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

openamenta:

@sojournthemoon

The most popularly mentioned symptom of hypersensitivity is thinking or feeling that things are polluted when they aren’t.  But it’s not the only one.  Many hypersensitives also have “obstructed melioration”, where – especially if something is actually polluted or actually has something on it – they are so paralyzed by their feelings of disgust that they can’t take actions to clean.

You can be diagnosed with some forms of hypersensitivity even if you never make a mistake on a test of pollution identification.  If you can’t touch the dishes so you can’t wash the dishes; if you can’t stand the smell of dust so you never jack up the couch to sweep it up; if something spilled in your fridge last month and you haven’t been able to open it since then even though it was only ketchup at the time, so now it’s a mold ecosystem you’d need to go after with bleach?  If you have a meltdown every time you visit the bathroom and spend two hours sitting there panicking and procrastinating on cleaning up because that would mean thinking about it?  If you can’t wash your hands because you’d notice the slightly less clean water rinsing off them?  If you haven’t shampooed in six weeks because whenever you wash your hair it accumulates in the drain catch and then you’d have to pick it out?  If you have any trouble explaining what needs doing to a professional cleaner because the words taste bad?  Then you’re (insofar as you can be diagnosed online) hypersensitive.

If something is so gross that you can’t clean it – not because there aren’t enough gloves and masks and chemicals, just because you can’t stand to think about it that hard, engage with the existence of a mess that needs to be cleaned up – then that’s hypersensitivity, and it’s a disability.

Anyway, how do you all feel about cleaning reds?

Tags:

#Amenta RP #unreality cw? #yet also‚ at the same time‚ very true #I think about this post every fucking time I flinch away from cleaning my fridge #(today’s reblog brought to you by my brother finally throwing out the ~month-old corn that was‚ in his words‚ ”no longer yellow”) #(I soaked the bowl with lots of soap for a day or so and managed to clean it after that) #(…now I just need to clean the *other* moldy food container‚ currently sitting beside the sink with its lid on) #(……maybe I will wash the other dishes first) #unsanitary cw #in which Brin has a food poisoning phobia #domesticity

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The Virus

~ Brin ~ Leave a comment

birdblogwhichisforbirds:

Like Pilate before Christ, I wash my hands.
When soap rips them to shreds, do viruses
Feel pain? And can a virus feel regret
When it has killed its host and doomed itself?
No doves or rainbows follow the great flood
Of pus and blood that laid waste to the lungs
It called its home. I thought I’d killed my host
When I was small – the pale and perfect host
that I believed was not bread but the flesh
of God. My sin infested hands with nails,
Contaminated love itself with death.
But my infecting soul could only live
in Him. Survival meant I must mutate
into a strain of self less virulent,
that doesn’t eat or fuck or rage or sleep
or hope for anything other than Him,
or feel things besides shame, or love
herself.

I’d hide like herpes simplex in my God,
and scarcely bother him. It didn’t work.
“Can you not wait and watch an hour with me?”
I tried. I can’t. I’m human. I need sleep.
My fast fails, so I vomit, so my flesh
Insists on more. I slash my arms
to drive away my rage at you, the pain
only brings further rage. I’m hollowed out,
an animated corpse. Saints you run dry
Have tired and lifeless eyes but sparkling souls.
My soul is still a fetid mass of slime,
but my dark-circled eyes stare out
from a sick-looking face. I start to ask,
who is infecting whom? Why do the hands
that flung stars into space require a girl
an unimportant girl, to tear herself
to pieces pleasing him? I realized
I’m not the virus. You are. I’m the host.
I cast the angels out and heal myself.

But now the world’s more broken than before
(And it was always broken, always cruel,
Always riddled with plagues, always unjust,
Always oppressive, always full of pain,
Always on fire, but it burns brighter now.)
Temptation whispers “Re-infect yourself
with Me. There is no joy or peace on earth,
Only on the other side of the grave.
Give up on earthly good: nothing is good
but God alone. Abandon all your hope.
See all the kingdoms of the aching world!
Watch how they writhe around in agony
All this pain I will take away from you
If you simply bow down and worship me!”
Into your hands, Lord, I refuse to give
My spirit. I don’t trust omnipotence
To save me or my neighbor. Though I have
Almost no power, still the power I have,
I use for love, including for myself.
I worship life in spite of everything.
I say the world to come can fuck itself.
This one, imperfect, finite though it is
I will protect in any way I can.
Like Pilate before Christ, I wash my hands.

Tags:

#poetry #Christianity #covid19 #illness tw #unsanitary cw #self harm cw #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what #(I might be reading too much into it but #–knowing that the author moved from Britain to America– #I feel like there might be some layers of meaning in the fact that ”neighbor” is spelled without a ”u” here) #(something about chosen homes)

It Should Be Legal To Have Sex In Public

~ Brin ~ 1 Comment

{{previous post in sequence}}

danksy-lives:

brin-bellway:

danksy-lives:

By what right does a government, entrusted with the preservation of liberty, see fit to prohibit consensual acts? This question, which was the catalyst of the Sexual Revolution, has led this author to reconsider all manner of social taboos.

While considering the rise of PDAs on campus, I considered how the right to show affection had superseded the expectation of those around them to feel comfortable. This is a positive change, primarily because the taboo against this act is rooted in the belief that people have the right to control the expression of their peers. This value has no place in a free society. From this position, I considered more extreme examples of the same principle. If society has no right to prohibit public signs of love, why should it prohibit its members from the literal act of love? It is this question that led me to my thesis, that it should be legal to have sex in public.

The first objection that will be raised against this is that the other people do not consent to seeing this. This response misrepresents the nature of consent. Many of you have seen a video in which consent is explained using the metaphor of giving someone tea. In this video, consent is understood to be a state in which the two people involved in sex agree to the act. Nowhere in that explanation does the opinion of those around them come into consideration. Because of this, saying that public sex violates the rights of passersby, or that they should just “get a room”, holds no weight.

The second point is that public sex does no harm to those who witness it. As with PDAs, there is no injustice that one can point to in order to justify its prohibition. The most likely grievance one could have is that people having sex on the ground would cause people to move around them. This is certainly an inconvenience, but not one that warrants government intervention. The worst-case scenario is that the coitus occurs in an exit or other narrow location. In this scenario, the appropriate action would be to use applicable fire codes to identify this as a safety violation. They could then be punished accordingly, public sex not being relevant to the matter. In neither case can the public claim harm that comes directly from the act of making love, but from factors that would be relevant whether or not sex was involved.

As I end this, I should address the reader’s assumption that the author is a crazed sex maniac. On the contrary, I am only interested in freedom for its own sake. I have no desire to partake in the act, nor would I gain sexual pleasure from seeing this in my daily life. I am content to know that the government will not interfere with those who chose to do so. Being free does not require that you partake in an act, it only requires that you reserve the right to do so, should the desire come. That is why I write this, so that we may all be a little more free.

People should not have sex in public because–given the fluids involved–it is unsanitary and against the interests of public health. They also should not talk in public for the same reason.

would you then support the idea that those having sex should be responsible for the cleanup of their own fluids?

I highly doubt that would be enforceable in practice. Our current public-health measures are unreliable and generally inadequate: we can’t even prevent restaurants from serving rotting food!

(while you could argue the *later* instances were a natural punishment for forcing service workers into proximity with them during a plague, those poor bastards who simply ordered the least popular variant of chicken during Christmas break absolutely did not deserve what they got)

By requiring people who have sex to do so in (ideally) their own space or (at minimum) a space owned by people in a good position to trace the sex back to them, we both increase the probability that they will have disinfectant available and ensure that, if they fail to use it (or fail to use it thoroughly enough), it will either harm *themselves* or harm someone with the capacity to figure it out and seek restitution. One of many situations where we eliminate the tragedy of the commons by eliminating the commons.

Tags:

#reply via reblog #discourse cw #unsanitary cw #nsfw text #in which Brin has a job #in which Brin has a food poisoning phobia #illness mention