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They look like ants from here.

San Francisco Bay Bridge from the top of 401 Harrison.

Photo looking down at the San Francisco Bay Bridge at night. There are a million headlights coming toward the camera. The bay is shiny and black under the clouded sky. Streets and buildings are lit with thousands of souls living their lives in the distance, alone, separate.

Currently reading: Gravity’s rainbow by Thomas Pynchon 📚

I know literally nothing about this, not the plot, characters, symbolism, reputation, nothing. Just heard it was good, so here we go.

Dear Las Vegas,

This is why we refused to spend a gazillion dollars on buying the Raiders a new stadium.

Love,

- Oakland

PS: Have they started blaming you for their poor record yet? Get ready.

There was a restaurant across the street from city hall. Dad dragged us there all the time, ostensibly because it was cheap, but really because it was always packed and Dad loved nothing better than to hold court in a roomful of people he seemingly all knew.

Today it struck me that we rarely entered through the front door. We’d walk in through the back, weave through the kitchen, and pop into the far corner of the dining room. Then a waitress would notice us and lead us to a table ahead of the long line of people waiting out front.

I swear, my dad wasn’t in the mafia. Looking back, though, I’d love to how this came to be our routine.

I’m surprised to notice that someone updated the goofy IPv8 IETF draft, kicking the dead horse for another 6 months of our amusement.