Philosophers have argued in favor of the probability that we’re all in a simulation. I prefer the term dramedy.
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That makes about as much sense as anything else.
Personally I’ve always wondered if “God” isn’t really a mad scientist, and humanity is an experiment gone out of control…
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My mother bought my sister and I complete sterling sets after the the Hunt Bros. tried to corner the silver market in 1980. Place-setting prices were volatile and tied to the market. Thanks to their actions, the silver market crashed allowing my mother to pick up two complete sets for under $300. It was the most extravagant thing my mother ever did, but she convinced my father that we’d need these some day. Thanks to my mom (and dad), I have a complete 12-person sterling setting along with serving pieces.
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Not so much. Entertaining got much less formal, people no longer have servants to clean it, and stainless steel has the non-corrosive qualities without the expense. Baby boomers inherited theirs from their parents, and rarely use it, and subsequent generations generally aren’t interested. There is an antique market near us a few times a year, and there are always silverware sets for sale, but vendors have told me that there isn’t much of a market for them. We have a few heirloom serving pieces we use. They don’t match, which is how I prefer it.
We have a pair of scissors that belonged to my mother-in-law marked “Germany - British Zone”, which pretty well narrows down the date of manufacture.
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I like to think there’s a bet going on between multiple gods – ok we each come up with a universe. After 5 billion years, whoever’s universe has the animal that lives the longest out of all of us buys the first round next Tuesday.
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Why are all the dates approximate? Wouldn’t he know exactly when the forks were used?
Liability? That might tie someone to the snaffling accurately, thus leading to the Four O’clock Knock from humourless goons.
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I might have to go along and check out this exhibition, since it’s just in the next suburb…
Reckon I’ll leave it till next Saturday when it closes, and the artist gives a talk. I’ll report back, if I do.
Sometimes I can’t tell the difference between Art and the creepier kind of fetish-OCD.
Maybe that’s what artist’s statements are for. Like, that’s how you know.
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