#simple economics

[determinate-negation]

the amount of completely inaccurate and borderline offensive versions of holocaust history ive seen lately, mostly for the repulsive purpose of defending western civilization, makes me feel like physically sick sometimes lmao. i can not believe i just saw someone say that unlike other genocides there were no economic incentives for the holocaust. im going to fucking scream. i hate to be this way but please if you never fucking studied this just shut the fuck up. cause its really obvious a lot of you guys havent. jsyk i think maybe around 15% or less of property and assets stolen from jews was ever returned

#its obviously not that simple that it was purely economic of course but to ignore this in favor of viewing it as this crazy irrational evil #that they were just doing it for the hell of it… i fucking hate you #mine

[hewantshisbrideback]

Different Roads: The House of Black and White

At the top she found a set of carved wooden doors twelve feet high. The left-hand door was made of weirwood pale as bone, the right of gleaming ebony. In their center was a carved moon face; ebony on the weirwood side, weirwood on the ebony. The look of it reminded her somehow of the heart tree in the godswood at Winterfell. The doors are watching me, she thought. She pushed upon both doors at once with the flat of her gloved hands, but neither one would budge. Locked and barred. "Let me in, you stupid," she said. "I crossed the narrow sea." She made a fist and pounded. "Jaqen told me to come. I have the iron coin." She pulled it from her pouch and held it up. "See? Valar morghulis." The doors made no reply, except to open. ❦ Arya I, A Feast for Crows

#arya stark #asoiaf #pureasoiaf #a song of ice and fire #the key five #arya edit #arya stark edit #asoiaf edit #braavos #the house of black and white #a feast for crows #a dance with dragons #the winds of winter #realized i need to be more economic with my edits #so: silly fun location based edits in a set of six! simple #(accidentally gets excited for a whole series of these based on the different stops jonrya have on their roads back to each other) #different roads edits #hewantshisedits #hewantshisposts

[zishuge]

Today I gave myself feels thinking about Fang Duobing, Di Feisheng, and Hulijing moving on and aging in a world without Li Lianhua. A world where Li Lianhua isn't there — but then again, he is there, in Lianhualou, and in the townspeople who flock to it, bearing gifts for the miracle doctor who once saved a life, fixed a roof, exposed a conman, comforted a child. Young Fang Duobing used to want to know every little detail about his hero, Li Xiangyi. Now Fang Duobing wants to know every detail about his beloved friend, Li Lianhua. The years pass and fewer people come. But if they remember him, Li Lianhua lives on.

(long post, half meta, half fic, bittersweet)

They travel together, with Hulijing, in Lianhualou. Fang Duobing has nothing better to do, so he takes up detective work again. Di Feisheng has nothing better to do, so he comes along. Everywhere they go, they look for Li Lianhua. And in their journeys, it seems like everywhere they go, someone is talking about Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi, who had always been something of a legend, but ever since his reappearance and subsequent (re)disappearance, has seemingly been elevated into something approaching godhood.

you should've seen him, people say, floating across the rooftops in red, cold and beautiful, like an avenging hero out of some novel. wasn't he dead? no — of course he wasn't, li xiangyi would never have been so easily killed. but it was bicha poison, i heard nobody could survive bicha poison. yes, he was definitely dead, and came back to life through dark magic. no, he'd been alive the whole time, just held captive by di feisheng. he tried to kill his shixiong ten years ago and failed, and came back to finish the job. no, his shixiong tried to kill the emperor and li xiangyi came to stop him. the emperor? impossible. yes — don't you know, li xiangyi is the emperor's long-lost son?

All of it only amuses Di Feisheng, but it irks Fang Duobing. The same Fang Duobing, who, when he was younger, would've hungered for every little detail about Li Xiangyi and begged to hear more, now finds it maddening to listen to these strangers talk about him as if they knew him. The world might have known Li Xiangyi, but it had never known Li Lianhua.

Li Lianhua, who could wield Shaoshi like it was a natural extension of his arm, but regularly cut his fingers clumsily slicing radishes and onions. Li Lianhua, who would invariably try to shrug off an attack of bicha poison, but yelped and jumped back from hot oil splatters in the kitchen like a child. Li Lianhua, who frowned when a passing carriage splashed mud onto his robes, but knelt carelessly into the dirt and grass to play with Hulijing.

None of them knew any of that.

But as Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng continue their travels, they begin to encounter other people as well. People who come running when they see Lianhualou in the distance tottering their way. People who come bearing gifts — a woman looking for the shenyi who had helped her with her back pain and also exposed the con artist who had tried to trick her daughter into marriage. A young man coming to thank the doctor who had given his father herbs for stress while uncovering the corrupt official who had falsely accused him of theft. An elderly couple looking for the young man who had helped them thatch their roof before a rainstorm and had given them some medicinal cream before he left. (One middle-aged man with a club, looking for the wangba quack doctor who had exposed his infidelity to his wife — he had left after one look at Di Feisheng, standing silently in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and dao strapped across his back.) People who greet Hulijing like an old friend.

Fang Duobing listens eagerly to every story they tell him, and in return, he tells them about his brilliant, kind, exasperating friend. Di Feisheng rolls his eyes every time, but Fang Duobing notices he never walks away either. They don't talk about it. But it’s as if Li Lianhua returns, however briefly, during those visits; in those moments, Fang Duobing can almost see him standing there, bending down to pet Hulijing alongside these old friends as she grins her little doggy grin and wags her tail. She escorts their guests to the door, and sits in the doorway after they leave, looking out at the world as though waiting. He doesn't ask if Di Feisheng can see him too. They sit and share wine after these visits, and eat the fruit that the visitors bring, until Di Feisheng can stand the heavy silence no longer and pushes Fang Duobing outside to spar. Hulijing follows faithfully, as always.

(fang duobing had brought home a puppy, once. he can't remember where he found it, but he remembers that he had held it in his lap in his wheelchair, eager to show it to his uncle before taking it home to his mother. his uncle had glared, and told him that dogs were only useful to guard the house, and tianji manor already had guards, human ones, and that fang duobing would do better to focus on his swordplay rather than waste time on such useless and frivolous things. he had taken the puppy away and fang duobing had never seen it again. it wasn't until those blurry months as he rode across the countryside looking for li lianhua, hulijing trotting along ever so loyally at his side, that he realized this was just another way that shan gudao and li xiangyi were opposites.)

The years pass, and there are fewer and fewer people who come. One day Fang Duobing wakes up with the unbearable realization that he is now older than Li Lianhua had ever been, would ever be, and is unable to get out of bed for a good half a shichen. Di Feisheng leaves him be.

The years pass, and Di Feisheng grows older too. There are lines on his face, snowy white beginning to thread through his jet-black hair. Fang Duobing wants very much to tease him about it, but the words catch in his throat when he looks too closely at the signs of time on Di Feisheng's face. What a precious and altogether rare thing it is, to age.

The years pass, and Hulijing grows older too. Fang Duobing finds that more and more often, Hulijing can no longer keep up with him when he goes riding. He stops going riding. She gets cold more easily now too, and more and more often Fang Duobing wakes in the morning with Hulijing curled up under the covers next to him, her wet nose shoved into his armpit. He holds her close and thinks about Li Lianhua shivering in his arms.

--------------------

It's been nearly a year since their last visitor, but today there is an old man. He comes in the morning, bringing a basket of plums. A long time ago, he says, a young man who lived here saved my life. I had been poisoned, he says, by my son who wanted my money and my lands. The doctors said there was no cure. But then the young man came and performed a miracle. He saved my life. He saved my life.

Fang Duobing knows it was no miracle that saved him. He asks for the old man's hand and it is given readily, albeit bemusedly. He presses his fingers to the inside of the man's wrist, and is greeted with a whisper-faint, gentle thrum of yangzhouman — a soft hello from a much-beloved friend. You fool, he thinks dazedly, caught somewhere between overwhelmed that here is someone, inside whom a piece of Li Lianhua lives on, and so bitterly angry. What had it cost? Some hours, days, weeks? He doesn't let himself think of what another week might have afforded them in those wild final days, in their desperate search for a cure. Fang Duobing gives the old man back his hand and blinks back the sting of tears. He cannot talk about Li Lianhua today. He apologizes and tells him that the man he is looking for is traveling and won't be back for a few days, but that Fang-mou will pass on the message. Before he leaves, the man leans down to rub at Hulijing's ear. My old friend, he says, like me, you, too, are truly old now.

After the man leaves, Fang Duobing folds himself into a sit on the floor of Lianhualou and gathers Hulijing into his arms. Gently — her joints are stiff now, and he can't haul her around, can't roughhouse with her the way he used to. Di Feisheng comes down the stairs from where he had been listening; he stands behind Fang Duobing and places a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. At the edge of his vision, near the door, Fang Duobing can see the hazy hem of green robes. If he looks up, he wonders brokenly, what would he see? The face of a man forever frozen in youth? Or a face lined with age, snowy white beginning to thread through jet-black hair? He suddenly finds that he cannot bear to find out.

Fang Duobing knows. He knows that the myth and the outlandish rumors about proud, arrogant, beautiful Li Xiangyi will never die. But he also knows that one day, there will be no one else who comes to Lianhualou; no one left who remembers gentle, sly, infuriating Li Lianhua. One day, the old man will pass on and the piece of Li Lianhua that he carries with him will fade as well. And one day… Fang Duobing presses his forehead against the soft fur of Hulijing's neck where it has gone white and thin with age. He closes his eyes and breathes.

--------------------

Years and years and years later, Fang Duobing is awakened from where he has fallen into a light doze reading in his chair by a soft knock on the door. There is a woman standing outside, holding a small basket of pears. I think I remember this building, she says. I must've only been six years old, but I had run off and lost my parents. I fell down in the street and skinned my knees. A kind gege helped me and gave me a piece of candy. He said he would walk me home but I said I didn't know whether I should tell him where I lived. He laughed and asked if it would help if I knew where he lived. He pointed to the most fantastical and wild house I had ever seen. I think it was this place. Xiansheng, does he live here? Who was he? Do you know him?

Fang Duobing smiles and invites her inside. On the bed, the small white dog that Di Feisheng has named, ridiculously, Baigujing, raises her head and thumps her tail a few times in hello. Di Feisheng looks up from where he is writing a letter at the table. Fang Duobing leads the woman over and waves at her to sit down. He sits across from her, ignoring Di Feisheng's eyeroll, and offers her a piece of candy. He always keeps candy around. Fang Duobing smiles once more and says, if you'd like to know — there is so much I would like to tell you.

#i just... the idea that xiaobao just wants li lianhua to live in any way he can #if he can't live on in reality xiaobao will make damn sure he lives on in someone's memory #something something you die a second death when there is no one left to remember you something something legacy #one day there will only be fang duobing and di feisheng #fang duobing who was li lianhua's friend #and di feisheng who was li xiangyi's equal #but it is not this day #i hurt myself #mysterious lotus casebook #cw: pet death #it's only very vaguely mplied but just in case #my ramblings #how long does transferred inner power stay in someone else's body? *shrug* #that's probably not how the force works #i write economic research for a living why am i suddenly writing mlc fic i haven't written fic in 10 years THE BRAINROT IT IS REAL #in my mind these are simple townspeople not caught up on jianghu things & thus never knew that li lianhua was li xiangyi - whoever that is #baigujing is “white bone spirit” from journey to the west bc i thought di feisheng would find it funny #but did journey to the west even exist yet in lhl time? probably not? IDK i'm uncultured.

[thestudentfarmer]

Kitchen post today~

With prices being what they are I like a good deal on groceries when I can find it. Sometimes that leads me to buying large quantities of things.

This week the local scratch n dent market had 5 pound bags of golden potatos on sale, 2 for $4. We like potatos so I snagged a few bags. Since i had 2 from last week's groceries I decided to pick through them all.

I tossed a few rotten ones and sorted out the good from the ones getting on the going side. The good ones I put up in a storage tote (a cooking pot for now) for later cooking.

These ones are the contenders for the weekly meal/freezer prep. They had some funny or funky spots, things that can be cut off and thrown away or in the compost. I clean them after washing them well.

As a heads up, it's not suggested to feed chickens raw potatoes. So leave anything with raw potato bits in the trash or the compost bin.

The bad bits.

If you feel need to you can wash them up again. I move to peeling after words.

I save the peels for breakfast potatoes, or to make soup.

A few peeled spuds.

Afterwords, depending on how many potatoes needed to be processed will decide what im making. This time I had enough potatoes to do cubed potatoes and hashbrown potatoes.

Cube potatoes, then blanch them till all Dante in a pot. (Not quite to mash potatoes softness, but not crunchy.)

Drain, cool quickly. (If your into water conservation, save the water for your plants once cooled) I cool till just under warm and lay them out to drain/dry a bit.

Then take a pan and lay out a clean kitchen towel on it. Pour dry potatoes on and place in freezer till frozen.

Store in container and use like regular frozen potatoes.

Moving to hashed potatoes

Similar to the cubed potatoes except I grated them.

I like to destarch my potatoes a little so I do a soak for about an hour, drain and then blanch.

I did about 5 minutes to blanch the hash, every couple minutes fish out a peice and test it to see if it's crunchy or just firm. Drain, cool asap.

Lay out to drain and dry a bit.

Lay towel on baking sheet. Place drained hashed potatoes on top. Place in freezer and freeze a few hours.

When frozen package up. Date and use as necessary :)

Other potato freezing/preserving resources

https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/howto/guide/how-to-freeze-potatoes

https://www.motherearthnews.com/real-food/dehydrate-potatoes-for-various-uses-zbcz1507/

🥔🌱Happy Homesteading!🌱🥔

#homesteading #self sufficient living #thestudentfarmer #studentfarmer #self sufficiency #food #garden #gardening #low waste #potato #sustainability #kitchen economics #resources #kitchen #food preservation #preserving freezer #preserving potato #simple eating #urban homesteading #urban farming #rooter to tooter #tip to tail #snout to tail #scrap cooking #budget cooking #small scale solutions

[hella1975]

there's a very specific kind of vibe that comes with living with your friends in final year that it just does not have in first year or even second year. like as a fresher it's usually the first time any of you have lived away from home let alone with SO MANY people your age and it's terrifying and exciting and randomised to boot so it's generally carnage for a whole year in the best and worst ways, and then second year you pick who you're living with and it feels like for the first time you're doing this adult thing PROPERLY. you have a place of your own now. these are the people you've chosen to live with. studying gets serious etc. but it's still fresh. it's still new. you still don't know how to navigate it. but final year? final year is when you actually get it right. you know how to manage your time better. you know what works for you and what doesn't. studying is the main focus and you've been out in the world for three years now and it's not loud and boisterous like it was in first year and you're not exciteable and awkward like you were in second year. you're comfortable. every single one of my flatmates has their own friend group and we mainly keep to our own social circles, but we'll still meet each other back at the house after a night out and sit in the kitchen or my room to do the debrief. sometimes i'll go days not seeing either of them despite sharing a house but every now and then someone will softly call up the stairs that 'the heating's on!' or one of us will sneeze and the other two will yell 'bless you!' through the walls. the lack of interaction isn't interpreted as dislike in ways it would have been even last year, because we're all just old enough to be past that now and settled enough in our friendship not to worry about it. idk. uni is very loud and unsettling a lot of the time so it's been really sweet to see how almost boringly comfortable final year is.

#like my day today was literally drag myself out of bed at 10am to meet my econ friends bc we're in a group together #and i spent two hours with them writing a fucking TRADE REPORT before coming home #and the rest of the day was kinda lost. i showered. i put a wash on. i had a nap. i mainly stayed in my room #which sometimes is the End Of All Things but today was quite nice #and i can hear in their rooms how my flatmates are doing the exact same thing. pottering about and getting on with uni #and we've barely spoken all day but earlier my one flatmate ran into my room all excited to show me her nails #bc she's been teaching herself to do gels and it took her 2 hours but im still one of the first people she wanted to show #and just now we all went to use the bathroom at the same time and it led to one of our Stair Sessions #where we all inexplicably just gather on the stairs and chat for no reason with a cup of tea #idk it's just nice. it's such basic shit but i can't belive in first year i used to spend EVERY DAY with these girls #and we were one single friendship group and that was all we had #and then in second year one girl branched off bc she lived in a studio and got into her societies #but me and the other girl lived together again and it was the same thing of she was a friend before she was someone i lived with #and weirdly that can actually be detrimental to a dynamic. but this year we're all just very solidified and confident in ourselves #and where we stand and yes we all have our own friendship groups outside of the house now #but there's still that love and simple comfortableness around each other that you only get with time and a hell of a lot of proximity #and a sense of being settled that maybe is just what happens as you get older #idk it's just really nice. if i had this exact same day in first year (doing economics and barely leaving my room) #it would've been a really bad depressive day for me so the fact i can find such contentment from it now is really heartening #i love my little life here im very proud of what ive been able to achieve :) #hella goes to uni #feeling nostalgic because SOME BITCH decided to ribs post

[br1ghtestlight]

i love to say "if california wasn't so expensive" as if where im living right now isn't both more expensive and less accessible than ANY city in california or almost the entire country of america

#they're not kidding about the canadian housing crisis babes!!! #it's not so much the prices as much as bcuz the land we built on isnt like.... able to be “changed” in the way that mainland is #they physically cannot build outwards and grow the location even if people move here. it's a limited amount of space and its expensive #and a lot of canadian land is protected under government acts so it isnt as simple as like moving 300km to the west #because there ISNT 300k to the west. there isnt anything there. its either all isolated forests or oceans #vs america which as i understand it has towns and land avaliable everywhere. small towns are a THING and they arent EXPENSIVE #moving to a small town “because its cheaper” is laughable here #probably why america is a much more sucessful country than canada in terms of global reach and economic growth #so basically the main issue is immigration and american health insurance being slightly crazy #and also Money #txt

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

whenever a man is saying something is “simple economics” whatever he’s about to say is not only entirely wrong, but he’s just repeating what he saw another idiot man say

#if you hear 'simple economics' coming out of a man's mouth #just go ahead and turn off your ears

[newdanganronpaversionthree]

ouma kokichi is art but in the way news paper comics and vintage black and white cartoons are

#extremely sensitive to his enviroment #holding a mirror up to the creator #seems simple and annoying but has bigger political and economical insinuations

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

#Move over Sham-WOW guy #Step aside FlexSeal man #Borland the Bunny has that HOT product and he has to move it. FAST. #LIQUIDATION SALE AND EVERYTHING MUST GO #Lucy the Rabbit is a HOT COMMODITY #This is simple supply and demand economics people #It cracks me up how he promotes 3DBY as “before the two records that everybody kinda liked more” #and $59.99! WHAT. A. STEAL. #Happy Easter to all those who celebrate #Wes Borland #Limp Bizkit #nu-metal #down the rabbit hole #lucy the rabbit's video edits

[artemisiatridentata]

THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN FUCKING SAYING!!! The rich, the heads of corporations and media that have been pumping out articles and thinkpieces and guidelines trying to gaslight the general public into thinking everything is fine and we should return to normal — they KNOW it’s all bullshit. They KNOW covid isn’t a cold. They are using top-of-the-line science and tech to protect themselves while they’re content to let the rest of us get infected over and over again until we become disabled or simply drop dead.

[Alt text: Tiktok video by @Imani_Barbarin on twitter.

“If you’re somebody not wearing a mask in public spaces right now, I hate to be the one to break it to you — not really — but you’ve been fucking played. Because these are the images that are coming out of the World Economic Forum [in Davos, Switzerland].

(Showing a screenshot of a tweet from an attendee showing a PCR test) First off, they’re testing you right at the door. You test positive for COVID, your bracelet gets deactivated. You refuse to test, your bracelet gets deactivated.

(Showing a screenshot of a tweet with a picture of WEF attendees sitting in a room, bundled up in winter coats, with a HEPA filter next to their chairs) There are HEPA filters in every room. And people are wearing jackets because they have the windows open.

(Showing a photo from the WEF of a group of people looking at a slideshow. All are wearing what look like KN95 or KF94 masks or similar, and there is a blue light on a pole that looks like a Far UV light, which is another layer of covid protection.) And look at that! Masks!

You all got fucking played. You all are out here talking about hustle culture and intergenerational wealth? There is none for you. There’s none. When you’re disabled, you can’t make money. No, because everything is reliant upon your access to healthcare, which has income limits, you probably can’t even get or stay married, in a lot of cases. And you all are sitting up here talking about ‘we’re gonna set up guillotines for the rich and powerful’. They already set up guillotines and you walked right towards them. This is what collapse looks like. We’re already there.” End alt text.]

#covid #covid19 #covid is airborne #disability #disability rights #anticapitalism #antifascism #covid is not over #disability justice #imani barbarin #world economic forum #davos #literally the most radical and simple act u could do rn is wear a high quality (n95 or kn95) mask in public places #and in large private groups #please don’t stop giving a shit about other people or your own health #clearly the world’s richest people haven’t!!! #they just want you to get back to work making them more money #they don’t care if you die or end up bedridden for the rest of your life with post viral illnesses

[junk-culture]

i love the government careers website with their neat and tidy little infographics containing sick and twisty information. you could use this image as a jumpscare screen in a horror game. 60 hours a week well that sounds like just the job for me and is a perfectly normal expectation. anyway i also love paying my university £9250 a year so that i can lose braincells doing a group presentation on careers advice like im in secondary school pshce lessons

#me when i have to calmly present my slides about banking as if i didnt read abt the goldman sachs employee suicide case and get the urge to #drop out of my degree immediately: o_o #i wont drop out bc its a useful degree to have in general + u can ofc work as a normal accountant in a non morally repugnant capacity #but the cognative dissonance of it all etc........esp when we get onto the economics + corporate accounting modules as opposed to the simpl #small business accounting that weve started off with

[burntheupholstery]

"Why Aaron Bushnell self-immolated for Gaza" "Aaron Bushnell: the inside story" "Aaron Bushnell and the Psychology Behind Radicalization and Self-Harm" "Can suicide be a moral..."

some journos will benefit greatly from being hit over the head with a book from sociology 101.

suicide is always and forever a social problem with social roots. always. forever. only one of those stupefying headlines came even close to addressing the core of the matter and I had to close the news page before their stupidity and vapidness and sheer wilful ignorance triggered an aneurysm.

#to be clear tho i dont think bylines are the trouble here #i think its all the politics and economics leaning on the head editors at these places. not allowing journalists to write what they want #i stay away from topics for my health and sanity (sometimes you've got to) but i dont see how #journalists who work so closely to these events DON'T feel a particular way #so yeah those fucking A line think pieces bore me to death #he killed himself because it was the least thing AND the biggest thing he could do in his position to support the palestinians #its that simple #stop the war stop the atrocies #save america's precious little baby boys from horror and tragedy #its been this since vietnam and it always will be until someone offs the generals #and by that i mean like. cut off their heads.

[mosstrades]

.

#I hate spending money I hate spending money I hate spending money I hate spending money I hate spending money #buying stuff for university with the money I'm being given by the state to finance my education. monstrous #i just wanna hoard it forever in case of emergency but nooo i have to use it for its intended purpose. fuck me #[muffled scream into hands] #i could never have a shopping addiction I'm getting palpitations at spending 130E on books I explicitly need #and tbf could i get them at the library and i DID whittle down the list and will just get some at the library #but i work unthinkably better when i can write on them #so add THAT to the guilt #vent post #economic anxiety cw #nick.txt #'nicholas are you literally complaining about having money' yes and i deserve to be killed for it. are you offering #'what practical use is for these books is it even worth the money? am i even gonna read them? we're not even getting tested on them. why #should i read these?' #girl youre literally enrolled in a philosophy major. why do you do anything. to learn. give yourself the chance to learn the way #you have access to. come on #i gotta be kinder to myself my god #anyway sorry for the tumblr tag dialectics im having such a time about this very simple purchase. it literally set me back on a month of #coursework bc ive gotten so disquieted every time i looked at my basket in the secondhand book website lmao #(through gritted teeth) ask not what men deserve #(can you believe my teacher looked me straight in the eye and listed 40 books i should read. for a single semester.)

[freedominthedarkmp3]

At this point I genuinely think I might just be stupid. It's me hi I'm the problem it's me

#I'm preparing for the most difficult exam of my career #Which is the biggest obstacle for me because its a very specific branch of math-based economics #And the first part of the course is plain simple microecon and I genuinely don't understand it #Idek how you girls in stem do it. I see a math formula and I start thinking of how best to kill myself

[life-is-meh003]

I'm currently trying to understand how the economy works. I thought to myself, "hey! I'm an adult, I should probably know how this works!" I've read all sorts of articles and books, listened to podcasts. I've even looked at a bunch of graphs and data sheets. All this knowledge has just made me sad, and now all I yearn for is a NPC inspired, trade based microeconomic system. You give me shit, I give you shit. Fucking simple as that.

You got bread? Sweet! I've got some lovely heirloom tomatoes here.

You make ceramic dishes? Nice! I knit sweaters! I'll even throw in some mittens if I can get an extra mug.

Need someone to kill your enemies? Well that took a turn, but I'll do it for a dozen eggs and a 6 pack of beer!

#shitpost #economics #the simple things

[kunikida-simp]

I just stole 10 euro from my 8 year old brother after he asked me if I can spell " hot chocolate". Sometimes my genius frightens me.

#im a whole ten years older than him #and yet #i still do this shit #now im explaining to my mom why this was a fair exchange of goods & services #and not him gambling #on me #“its simple economics mom its not my fault your son doesn't know that im quite on the expensive side of the market ” #“Bᵤₜ ᵤ ᵣ ᵣₒbbᵢₙg ₕᵢₘ” #“HE WILL KNOW HOW TO INVEST RESPONSIBILY CUZ OF ME I SHOULD BE THANKED” #also he can spend his birthday money as he see fit. its non of my business