Which would be very much in the spirit of the movie.

Now to zoom out one extra level, imagine the article was A.I.-generated drivel. It’s probably not but go with the premise: Patrick Bateman has entered A.I. hallucinations! What is the real Patrick Bateman vs the A.I.-generated hallucination one?
Sounds like a fanfic sequel elevator pitch.

Oh no, no no no… it’s all part of God’s plan!

One step at a time there, cowboy!

At first a neutrino oven would be prohibitively expensive for a regular household, we’d be seeing the first commercial model installed by some restaurant in Las Vegas, that’s quite a gimmick: Neutrino-Zapped Food!

Then in the lounge by the casino, stand-up comics would be making jokes about steaks coming in three flavors: electron, muon and tau.

Then for some reason, I’m seeing all this in black-n-white.

This is countered by the fact that neutrinos almost never interact with normal matter.

Follow-up question, then:
When they do in this extreme supernova scenario, are they frying their meat via direct impact (whatever that means at those scales) with the nucleus, or via the Weak Force?

Because none of that energy is going to be transferred electromagnetically, a very strange thing to think about.

Here’s a question to give you a sense of scale:

Which of the following would be brighter, in terms of the amount of energy delivered to your retina:

1. A supernova, seen from as far away as the Sun is from the Earth, or

2. The detonation of a hydrogen bomb pressed against your eyeball?

Applying the physicist rule of thumb suggests that the supernova is brighter. And indeed, it is … by nine orders of magnitude.

Well… I wasn’t expecting to read something like this today. Nor indeed, tomorrow and yesterday!

EDIT:

Then there’s this, pointing out unbelievable stuff along the way, effortlessly. You gotta love Randall Munro.

Core collapse supernovae happen to giant stars, so if you observed a supernova from that distance, you’d probably be inside the outer layers of the star that created it.

At least non-voters in the United States can bask in the essence of their our purity, intoxicated by the aroma of their own flatulences, just as long as they can avert their gaze from their own blood-stained hands. Mentally mediocre creatures that they are.

Baby Shark & Wild Stallyns. Party on, dude!

What’s the matter ese?
Don’t you know I’m goth-o?

Smile for the hidden camera, you have been pranked! You thought it was indica, but in fact it was the mythical, elusive cannabis rutica!

You know, cannabis rutica, the one which Harrison Ford allegedly brought to the production of Star Wars in 1976, and which Carrie Fisher later blamed for being unable to recall most of her time on set during that period, under the spell and fog of that ol’ rutica magic.

Gotta hand it to Harrison Ford and his California carpentry buddies, with all their logging and crazy strong weed contacts up north in Humboldt County!

Like a guy said to me in college:
“Man… if you lived during the Flintstones, you’d be driving a sportscar.”
Yeah, that was one I’d never heard before, I had to shake the guy’s hand and congratulate him for originality.

In so much of this cookie-cutter “hip” newer housing, it’s either this or a dangerously steep angle, sometimes even both at the same time.

Enshittified architects building enshittified spaces thinking only of how it looks, not how it’s supposed to be lived in with safety and comfort from Day Two onward, the novelty wears off very quickly and you’re stuck with an unnecessarily, potentially deadly space.

Like hell they will. They and the bOtH pArTiEs ArE tHe SaMe LoL aMiRiTe lazy imbeciles will destroy themselves and the rest of us before they even reject the possibility of bending towards reality a little, and learning something truthful.

Best known for being produced by Brian Eno.

“Hey man, did you hear the latest James album?”
“What? No. Why, should I?”
“Check this out, man… produced by Brian Eno.”
“Get the fuck outta here! Are you serious?”
“Yeah! It’s… it’s pretty damn good, check it out.”
“Interesting…! Yeah, I think I will, thanks for the heads up, man.”
“Sure thing, buddy.”

Look at that red glow on the Cigar Galaxy!
It’s not a quasar, no quasar is that recent/near to us.
Is it going through a starburst phase due to gravitational interaction with Bode’s Galaxy?

Granny Takes A Trip, mate!

Weren’t they also called dandies during that time?
There has been a tradition… or more like a sub-current, of eccentric clothing in London that reaches back until at least the days of Queen Victoria.
Granted, the 1960s took it up a notch or three.

“Quo vadis?”
“Ad hospitium.”
“Damnum!”

Food Lion
Citi Trends
Shoe Show…

Yeah, this has the feel of some bizarro trickle-down generic capitalism alternate universe.

And why is there Jennifer but no Jerryfer? Or Johnnyfer?

“Got it!” - then instantly proceed to stumble all over each other to make more and more stupid people more and more famouser…! …famousest! Every time one makes a meme of those assholes, it creates more goddamned noise.

Maybe these stupid famous people are a reflection, or the very essence itself, of those who make them famous, who feed the goddamned algorithm with content and/or morbid attention, while huffing and puffing that they are so above it all, “I’m the pure one - YOU’RE the contaminated one!”

It’s not unlike the waterless toilet we are in now, because this buzzing noise fed by bad-faith actors who know which buttons to push and how, distorts reality and we get enough non-voting idiots, not too far removed from medieval peasants, chanting bOtH pArTiEs ArE tHe SaMe LoL aMiRiTe.

What’s the name of that station?
I’ve only been to NYC once, about ten years ago, but I did pass through this stop and if memory serves, it’s called Mets-Willits Point… I think? It’s the last or next to last stop before the Flushing terminus, that I do remember.