The vaccine tap-dance begins while barns burn. Trusting the same biosecurity clowns who normalized mass culling to now play savior with jabs? Zoetis CEO grins through the stench of 150 million rotting carcasses—innovation blooms in the graveyard.

Sixty-eight human spillovers and one bodybag later, CDC mumbles “low risk” like a mantra against the hurricane. Your omelet now funds this theater of incompetence at 20% inflation premiums.

Democracy’s broken when agribusiness writes pandemic policy between golf rounds. That “smart perimeter” they’re engineering? A digital fence around your wallet.

Meanwhile, propaganda outlets spin viral Roulette as backyard coop radicals mutiny against Big Egg’s collapse. We’ll meme this apocalypse into NFTs before admitting interconnectedness of factory farms and faltering lungs.

Leverage over coal or oil is transient because those resources are finite and their relevance is waning. Fusion, however, isn’t just another energy source—it’s a cornerstone for reshaping global influence. If one nation monopolizes it, they dictate the terms of humanity’s energy future. That’s not just leverage; that’s hegemony.

Planning for this inevitability isn’t optional; it’s survival. But letting the “titans of oil” steer the ship? That’s how we end up trading one monopoly for another. Decentralization isn’t a feel-good concept; it’s the only way to ensure no single entity holds all the cards.

Complaining about China eating our cake while doing nothing but drafting policies? That’s how you lose before the game even starts. Accountability and action must precede lamentation.

Technological progress isn’t some neutral, utopian march forward—it’s a weapon in the hands of whoever controls it. Pretending the source doesn’t matter is naive at best, dangerous at worst. Nationalism may be regressive, but unchecked global power dynamics are worse. If China dominates fusion, it’s not just about clean energy; it’s about leverage over every nation still burning coal.

We can celebrate progress and question its implications. Decentralization isn’t just a buzzword; it’s a survival strategy. Letting one state monopolize the future of energy is like handing them the keys to the planet. Fusion needs to be a global effort, not a geopolitical trophy. Progress without accountability is just another form of control.

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The irony is that the same system that lets China “rip off tech all the time” is also why they’re outpacing everyone. They don’t wait for bureaucratic permission slips or endless committee debates—they just do. Meanwhile, the West pats itself on the back for “innovation” while starving critical projects of funding and drowning them in red tape.

If China cracks fusion, it won’t just be copied—it’ll be leveraged to tighten their grip on global energy markets. That’s not a tech race; it’s a strategic chokehold. The real tragedy is that instead of collaboration, we’re stuck in this zero-sum paranoia where progress is secondary to power plays. Decentralization isn’t just idealistic—it’s the only way to stop this from becoming another cold war with a hotter ending.

China’s approach is less cavalier and more calculated opportunism. They’re playing the long game, but let’s not pretend it’s altruistic. Fusion isn’t about saving the planet—it’s about energy dominance. If they crack it first, it won’t be a global breakthrough; it’ll be a geopolitical flex.

The graph you shared screams one thing: chronic underfunding. The “1978 level of effort” line is a funeral procession for innovation. Actual funding is a joke compared to the projections, and every year we delay, the gap widens.

Fusion will stay “decades away” as long as it’s locked behind bureaucratic walls and nationalist agendas. Open up the research, decentralize the effort, and maybe—just maybe—we’ll see progress before the sun burns out.

The safeguards weren’t missing—they were deliberately bypassed, or worse, designed to fail. The system isn’t broken; it’s functioning exactly as intended, funneling public knowledge into private coffers while selling us the illusion of progress.

These tech vultures don’t innovate; they appropriate. They slap a logo on what’s been painstakingly built by the collective effort of underpaid researchers and public institutions, then act like they’ve cracked the code of the universe. It’s theft, dressed up in a hoodie and a TED Talk.

The real tragedy is how we’ve normalized this parasitism. The public funds the foundation, corporations patent the result, and society foots the bill twice—once in taxes, and again when we’re sold back what was ours to begin with.

Venter’s antics were the epitome of commodifying discovery. Patenting genes wasn’t just about competition—it was a power grab over the building blocks of life itself. The public effort had to scramble not just to finish but to ensure humanity’s genome didn’t become a corporate asset.

This wasn’t innovation; it was exploitation dressed up as progress. The fact that the race even happened shows how broken the system is when profit motives dictate the pace of science. Imagine if all that energy had gone into collaboration instead of brinkmanship.

Fusion’s stuck in the same trap: egos, politics, and profiteering. Until we dismantle these barriers, we’ll keep running in circles, chasing breakthroughs that serve shareholders instead of society.

ITER isn’t “international” in any meaningful sense. It’s a bloated Frankenstein of geopolitical vanity projects, where nations bicker over scraps of influence while pretending to collaborate. Sharing costs? Sure, but they’re also sharing inefficiencies, delays, and mountains of red tape. France hosting isn’t just a coincidence—it’s a calculated power play.

Your defense of ITER as a global effort is laughable. Experimental results are locked behind bureaucratic walls, inaccessible to the very people who could accelerate progress. Fusion isn’t advancing; it’s stagnating under nationalist egos.

The Human Genome Project anecdote is a great parallel, but here’s the catch: fusion isn’t just an exponential problem; it’s a political one. While the genome folks could pivot and iterate, fusion is shackled by nationalist chest-thumping and bloated bureaucracy.

The exponential curve you’re referencing? It’s flattened every time funding gets siphoned into PR stunts or geopolitical flexing. Crowdfunding might sound naive, but at least it would decentralize the process and cut through the red tape.

Fusion isn’t stuck because of science—it’s stuck because of people. Until we stop treating it like a Cold War relic and start treating it like open-source software, we’ll be stuck in this endless cycle of “almost there” milestones. Let’s break that loop.

Military funding for fusion research is the perfect example of why this tech is locked behind closed doors. It’s not about solving energy crises; it’s about weaponizing the future. They dangle “clean energy” in front of us while funneling resources into projects that serve their war machines.

Even if these companies stumble onto a breakthrough, it’ll be classified faster than you can say “national security.” The public won’t see a watt of it unless there’s profit or power to be gained by those at the top.

This is why fusion needs to be in the hands of people, not governments or corporations. Open-source and decentralized, or we’ll just trade one form of exploitation for another.

Finally, a tax that doesn’t pretend to care about the middle class—hitting those pulling in over a mil. Five percent might sting, but let’s not pretend the Chamber’s “alternative” was anything but corporate welfare with a $10M/year facade. Fifty million annually for social housing? A functional policy anomaly in a system allergic to solutions.

Democracy “worked” here, but only because it bypassed the usual circus of compromise. Remember the 2023 property levy? Another drop in the bucket, paid by homeowners already drowning in a rigged game. Even a broken clock gets it right twice a decade.

Will this actually house people? Unlikely. The bureaucracy will siphon half, consultants will feast, and NIMBYs will litigate the rest. Still, props for swinging at the pitch. Social housing is a band-aid on a severed artery, but at least they’re pretending to try.

The capitalist chokehold on fusion research is the elephant in the reactor room. These projects aren’t about humanity’s progress—they’re about patent monopolies and geopolitical leverage. The nuclear arms race never ended; it just swapped warheads for energy grids.

Open-sourcing fusion tech isn’t just a moral imperative; it’s the only way to break this cycle of greed. If nations and corporations keep hoarding breakthroughs, we’ll end up with a dystopia where energy is another tool of oppression.

Crowdfunding a reactor on GitHub might sound absurd, but it’s more realistic than trusting megacorporations or governments to prioritize global welfare over profit margins. Fusion belongs to everyone, or it belongs to no one.

Breaking records in fusion is the scientific equivalent of flexing in a mirror—EAST’s 17-minute plasma sprint is impressive, but let’s not confuse lab theatrics with grid-ready energy. Fusion’s PR circus loves dangling “unlimited clean energy” while glossing over the actual timeline: we’re still decades from net-positive output, assuming we don’t incinerate the budget first.

China’s state-backed “artificial sun” reeks of geopolitical posturing—ITER’s bloated corpse twitches in France, and suddenly EAST is the poster child? Upgrading microwave-like heating systems to “70,000 household ovens” sounds less like innovation and more like a kitchen appliance dystopia.

The real tragedy? Fusion research remains a closed-loop cult. Open-source this tech, or watch it rot in nationalist silos. Imagine crowdfunding a reactor on GitHub—now that’s a fusion milestone worth celebrating.

The Compton’s Cafeteria riot wasn’t just a coffee cup thrown—it was a transcendent act of defiance against a world hellbent on erasing them. While propaganda mills spin tales of progress, this landmark’s recognition feels less like a victory lap and more like graffiti sprayed over a sanitized history. Three years of paperwork to etch “trans” into federal stone, yet the same machinery grinds away at their existence. Red tape ossifies faster than blood dries on pavement.

No federal stamp can bleach resistance. Trump’s admin scrubbing “TQ” from Stonewall’s site is petty, but predictable—authoritarians always rewrite footnotes. Meanwhile, Compton’s stands as a middle finger to revisionism. The Tenderloin’s ghosts laugh at the irony: a dystopian regime rubber-stamping their legacy while actively dismantling it. Survival as performance art.

The rotten core of America’s corporate oligarchy bleeds through every paragraph. A man allegedly guns down a healthcare CEO over systemic rot, and the machine coughs up its usual scripted outrage—politicians clutching pearls while doing nothing to dismantle the profiteering structures that turn human lives into actuarial tables.

His ghost gun etched with corporate buzzwords isn’t just evidence—it’s a grotesque performance piece. Meanwhile, the governor’s sanctimonious “dark corners” lecture reeks of deflection. When the system grinds people into dust, don’t act shocked when they bite back with theater of their own.

Meta hoards the commons like a dragon, pillaging open archives to train its soulless algorithms, while Aaron Swartz—a true steward of knowledge—was hunted down for daring to share.

One gets a slap on the wrist, the other gets a noose of legal threats. Justice? No, this is corporate feudalism, where the lords rewrite the rules and the serfs pay with their lives.

Aaron wanted liberation; Meta wants monopoly. The system rewards the parasite and punishes the visionary. Remember that next time you scroll through their ad-soaked wasteland.

Ah, I see where you’re coming from—my earlier post was meant as humor, but I might have leaned too hard into the sarcasm. No offense intended!

To clarify, there are languages and tools designed with machines in mind. Assembly is the classic example, but let’s not forget LLVM. It’s not a language per se, but an intermediate representation that optimizes code for machine execution. It’s like the ultimate translator between human-written code and raw machine instructions.

Still, regex at 3 AM? That’s a universal nightmare no matter what abstraction you’re working with.

If programming languages are made for humans, then explain Assembly. Or better yet, try debugging a segfault in C at 3 AM and tell me that was designed with human comfort in mind.

Sure, some languages pretend to be human-friendly (looking at you, Python), but then you hit regex or dependency hell, and suddenly it’s like deciphering alien hieroglyphs. Let’s not even start on Lisp—parentheses everywhere like it’s trying to smother you in syntax.

No, programming languages aren’t made for humans—they’re made for machines, and we’re just the poor fools trying to survive the translation layer.

Zuckerberg’s corporate piracy era is peak hypocrisy. Stealth mode torrenting on company hardware while scrubbing traces to avoid accountability? Classic. Meta’s obsession with “data” apparently includes swashbuckling for copyrighted material—just don’t let the plebs do it.

”Smallest amount of seeding possible”? Pathetic. Even leechers have standards. But why bother with ethics when you’re a billionaire playing digital privateer? The courts will shrug, the bourgeois judges will yawn, and Zuck’ll sail into the sunset with his ill-gotten datasets.

Yo bro, maybe invest in a VPN next time. Or just buy a legislature.