Is this Swiss or Austrian?

Fodrász vagyok

And then tar.bz2 on top so that no basic users of sidewalks can ever open it.

Fair enough. That’s what I get for shit posting (as in skimming through threads on the loo)

OP’s picture is in Canada though.

But why? Again, the perception would be absence or presence of light on a standardized indicator.

FYI signal lights are much more strictly regulated in Europe, such as position, colour, shape and strength.

This study is from Austria.

It’s doesn’t matter, since the absence or presence of light would still be perceived by colour blind people. It doesn’t change how they would drive, as they are already driving with the knowledge of colour blindness in mind when looking at tail lights.

The relatively bad linux experience, plus all the news about nvidia being the scum of the earth, is what made me go with a solid AMD card instead.

When you are searching for a file in a filing cabinet of a finance department, it’d be a nightmare if records were filed by month first and year after.

I was 17, doing a night shift job during summer vacation. Perfectly legal, limited to only certain amount of hours per week/month/year.

On this particular hot summer day, before one of my shifts, I did not sleep much, three hours maybe, because I’ve decided to play Quake all day at home. I woke up late and got to work at like 22:00 instead of 20:30. It was a polyfoam mat processing factory and for being late, I thought I’d be sent to the recycling furnace: a position where you and another kid have to line up a load of discarded polyfoam scraps that a machine then pulls in on a conveyor belt, flattens and bakes it into insulation mats for construction. Super boring, with spurts of 10 minutes of loading and then half an hour of dozing off on a foldable plastic chair. A load alarm would wake us up at the end of the baking cycle.

But my boss had other plans for me. He told me to grab an exacto knife and head out to the back of the building with him. We walked along the designated pathway demarcated by fluorescent white stripes on both sides past all the machines and stations on the factory floor. Then out the loading bay door past one particular machine that seemed to end in a sort of funnel outdoors. My boss pointed at a tall staple of plastic sack: “These are plastic pellet sacks. You have to pick them up one by one, place the sack over the funnel. Then you open up the sack with your knife and empty it’s contents into the funnel. The machine will do the rest. Keep filling the funnel with new sacks if it empties.”

Easy enough I thought. Boss left again on his long walk back towards the offices on the other end of the factory hall. I’ve felt particularly sleepy and tired on this pleasantly warm summer night , but I’ve picked up a bag with my left arm and held it pressed to my body. However when I’ve tried cutting it with my right hand, I just couldn’t get the ~8kg slippery plastic sack high enough with that arm and was scared I’d spill the pellets on the ground. So in my infinite wisdom I’ve swapped the bag under my right arm and the knife into my left hand. Much better. I’ve made a wide cut on the bag with the exacto, funneling in the pellets into the machine as it was slowly gobbling it all up to extrude it into whatever material would later become the polyfoam base.

But then I’ve felt it. A sharp pain from my right hand. My middle finger in particular. I’ve carefully slid the half-consumed sack on the ground and started to investigate. The tip of my finger was hanging on a sliver of skin, and wherever I was waving it, I was doing picasso-like splatter but in blood. Nothing too extreme, but definitely bleeding a lot. Reminded me of Inspector Gadget’s gadget finger, open up the tip to reveal a screw driver or some telescopic listening device. I became woozy. An earlier childhood memory came back, where I have busted my palm open on a sharp rock and my knees felt like jelly. This was a similar feeling. I knew I’d need help soon. So I went inside the factory hall through the loading bay and started walking back towards the offices, while doing my best to squeeze my finger with my left hand. What felt like a minute of walking past various machinery, I got to a group of people, which included my boss handing out instructions to other latecomers in front of the supervisor’s office. He looked up at me and before he could ask why I’m not at my assigned station, I held my bloody hand up and tried to say “I don’t feel well.”

Next thing I know is that I had a killer headache in the back of my head. The floor is pleasantly cold but my head is resting on the lap and palms of a slightly chubby and angelic sounding girl. They are telling me I’ve passed out and hit my head hard while splattering blood around with my finger. They put a rag-tourniquet around my arm and wrapped my finger in another rag. Someone was stating they are getting their car. The angel helps me up and walks me outside in the fresh air during this warm summer night. The asphalt in the parking lot is still radiating a lot of heat. They drive me to the ER in a small hatch back, all while having a jolly chit chat and trying to keep me from passing out again. I tell them that I get motion sickness if I’m not sitting in the front, but the angel insists I have to sit with her in the back. Her voice is very soothing. I almost fall asleep.

We get to the ER and they get me into a wheelchair and push me in. My angel passes me off to the nurses but says she and the driver will stay around while they wheel me into a room. The nurses buzz around me, three of them performing minor tasks in tandem. They don’t look too concerned. They rather have the aura of quiet but slightly bored dutiful professionals about them. They position my right arm on a sort of stand that they rolled up next to my chair and then take off the makeshift tourniquet and rag and start inspecting my finger. I look up at it briefly.

I come to again with some pain in my neck, this time with my head propped up by one of the nurses. One of them laughs while exclaiming that it looks like I can’t handle the sight of my own injuries. She might be absolutely right! They quickly proceedes to clean up the wound and glue my fingertip back.

NOPENOPENOPE

People keep saying Bazzite now for distro. But as a relatively new linux user (since last summer) I’ve managed to make things work with Linux Mint, arch and Fedora no hassle.

Heroic launcher (GOG, Epic) or Steam will handle proton&wine for you. Just need to check a check-box in the game’s config on whether you want to run native or proton.

Adding to what the others were saying, proton has an unaffiliated website for reporting purposes, protondb.com. It tallies user reports of the games working or not. The data is associated mostly with steam libraries.

I don’t have a lot of games in my steam library, relatively speaking, barely over 100. But there are zero games that would not work on Linux for me:

In this context Platinum means it works out of the box, Gold means some users experienced minor issues (mostly older reports by nvidia users) that required some tinkering with launch options, such as setting an environment variable. Silver and Bronze mean gradually more tinkering required but still works. This excludes native apps (which do not use wine/proton) and borked apps (of which I own zero).

Note, that this is a translation layer, not emulation, and often games can have better performance under Linux thanks to the system not getting bogged down by the OS itself.

Also note, that 99% borked games are due to kernel level anticheat and DRM being implemented improperly by the game developer, which proton can’t handle. You can still make it work under Linux, but you’d actually require emulation for that, instead of proton.

Edit:

Another screenshot of the top50 played saturation to show you what to expect.

Maybe if you tell them that an LLM is being trained on all their “private” conversations now, they will change their mind?

Was he?

They’ve been redeemed because they’ve opened such a rich world in the form of the TV shows and books. TCW and Rebels expanded on lore greatly.

I assume this is London.

And that’s fine, the train commutes were not for your specific needs. Weird that you had to switch three times to get to your destination, including the walks.

But this is hardly the norm.

If you want to have counter-anecdotal evidence presented, my daily commute used to be 5 metro stops worth 9 minutes of ride and 5 minutes of walking (in total). By car it was about the same, except for the added inconvenience of finding and paying for parking. This was Budapest.

Then there was 15 minutes of train coupled with 25 minutes of walking, 20 to the train station at a brisk pace and then another 5 to the office through the underground maze. By car it’d have been 15 minutes, not counting traffic. Which there always was. Because this was Toronto, the home of “just one more lane, bro”. So in total it was more like 40.

My current commute is 20-40 minutes by a single bus. Only ~2.5km. It’d be the same by car, because the route is entirely at the whims of the traffic.

However it doesn’t matter, because I also bike, and it’s my preferred mode of transportation. Biking in cities that do have minimal infra (such as well placed arteries) and culture for it, as in driving lessons focus on awareness and there is no us vs them mentality, is like IRL cheat code to commuting. You are faster than transit and traffic, you get some well needed exercise and de-stress time. And you get to exactly from where you leave from to where you want to go to, all while saving a dime.

Obviously biking is not for everyone. But if a fat dude with asthma in his late forties with two young children can do it, the barrier for entry doesn’t seem that steep.

I always thought Rutherford was SEA though.

“Copyright” theft. Hahaha.

“Please agree to obey our rules controlled by our corpos.”

Too bad that it will turn into a brick once meta decides to axe their VR department.