It’s important to note that fax machines aren’t point-to-point either. Your data is still passing through someone else’s switches (probably fewer hops, mind.) and then there’s the physical security on the other end to wonder about.

The last fax I saw was in high school and it was left out for any one to grab documents from. (Well. Inside the school library right near the librarians desk.)(she had a somewhat unearned reputation for being terrifying, so, you’re mileage might carry there.)

Yeah. I guess that checks out.

I bet you could make lots of money introducing them to the copy machines that can also automatically scan and email documents…

Does anyone still use fax machines?

Please tell me I’m not the only 90’s kid that air guitars to the 52k dialup.

Cat Iron pans are the best pans.

Such a use case would be a perseuscope.

Pretty sure football bans the use of firearms.

Clearly this is murican soccer.

Is Lenny a Twins fan?

Either way, a very handsome fellow.

for people wondering, this was on a 3d printer…

…can’t do it on a normal printer.

Clearly he wants you to sing about his but.

cats are crepuscular, they’re most active around dawn and dusk, and generally sleeping between.

When you fall asleep waiting for the target of your perfect ambush

Iirc, some adaptations name him Adam, for the line “I ought to be thy Adam.”

So, I went to a movie in theaters for the first time in ages…. Apparently there’s a coyote vs acme cartoon/live action cross over that looked pretty good. Anyhow, carry on. (Meep meep,)

It has no doors, and that brown thing is just a painting of a door in an otherwise solid wall. The windows, too.

Even when I was an ardent Christian, I despised mega churches.

My grandma lived a few country blocks from James River Assembly; and since we were AoG, she’d insist on us going there rather than her usual church when we visited.

I loved her tiny Presbyterian church and listening to her play the organ for the relatively small choir. I also loved the potlucks, and my grandpa gossiping with the old folks about what everyone was doing with their grandkids.

But James River? Hell hole. There was no connection. No real meaning. They’d get up and do old-but-still-called-contemporary songs with a full rock band (but not rock music because rock and roll is the devil), the place was full of suits and conspicuous displays of wealth and false displays of piety.

Orwell could be savage.

I wonder if it has anything to do with the Sagrada familia

Dinosaurs never really went away. (Birds are dinosaurs, after all.)