The humans, I think, knew they were doomed. But where another race would surrender to despair, the humans fought back with even greater strength. They made the Minbari fight for every inch of space. In my life, I have never seen anything like it. They would weep, they would pray, they would say goodbye to their loved ones and then throw themselves without fear or hesitation at the very face of death itself. Never surrendering. No one who saw them fighting against the inevitable could help but be moved to tears by their courage…their stubborn nobility. When they ran out of ships, they used guns. When they ran out of guns, they used knives and sticks and bare hands. They were magnificent. I only hope, that when it is my time, I may die with half as much dignity as I saw in their eyes at the end. They did this for two years. They never ran out of courage. But in the end… they ran out of time.

Londo Mollari

Auto-sorting priority tables based on a separate table of dropdowns in Google Sheets

Huge disclaimer: I’m no Excel/Sheets master so there is probably a much better and more efficient way of doing things but this is just an extremely hacky thing I threw together one afternoon. So if you know of any alternatives, I’d be happy to hear it. Also I am not a teacher but I’ve renamed a few things to try and simplify things. The setup Class Sheet, Table 1 – also known as the “input …

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Jedi Fallen Order

It’s been a while since I’ve been blown away by a game’s visuals but this one is a real joy to just sit back and take in everything.

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In an infinity of worlds, anything is not only possible, it’s mandatory.



The oddest birthday celebration I’ve ever had. Sitting in an underground cement bar with a Queen electronic jukebox, drinking Japanese beer, and eating a surprise orange cake with a matchstick for a candle. Very awesome.

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

The Bell Jar