'When storms are active, people die, for instance, when floods rip through neighborhoods, or when trees fall on them. But the new study shows that losses continue for months, and can last as long as 15 years, after the storm passes taxing people’s health and economic well-being, contributing to thousands of premature deaths. The total impact, the study suggests, adds up to more than 3.5 million people since 1930, more than the total number of deaths from motor vehicle accidents over the same period of time and as much as 5% of the U.S.’s total deaths.’ NPR
People: Univ selling poors bodies. On the nature of time. Someone left US gov 7bn$. To (physical) books as memories. Port strike in the US. Golden owl chase ends (and the golden hare). Israel supply chain attack.
Tech: Hacked vacuum cleaners. Smart mowers sing for bdays. Are blue zones areas of data bias. Cars capture and sell your data. OTA restores of bricked iPhones. Using cold war spy satellites for archeology. The fickle nature of IoT stuff (even for gardening!).
Science: Teeth as time capsules. Fun tubular structures. Why is the speed of light so fast.
DIY: kit to transform hot wheels in remote controlled drift cars. RTOS on the pico/rp2040. Real-time Linux.
The Day the Robo-Vac Spied on Us
The day the world learned that the Robo-Vac 3000 had been peeping at its owners, the public response was a mix of outrage and a strange sense of betrayal, akin to discovering that your cat had been attending a secret feline council where they discussed your embarrassing habits. This revelation came on the heels of a rather uneventful Tuesday, where most folks were more concerned about the new iOS 18 feature that promised to magically revive their bricked iPhone 16—an advancement that made one wonder if they were living in a sci-fi novel or just a really good infomercial.
Hank, an avid DIY enthusiast and part-time conspiracy theorist, was in his garage tinkering with a kit from DKE Builds to convert an old die-cast car into a remote-controlled drift machine. “Why should I buy a new toy when I can resurrect this relic of my childhood?” he muttered, as plastic components scattered like confetti at a failed birthday party. His thoughts drifted to the treasure hunts that had captivated the nation recently. The golden figurine unearthed in France was a reminder that some people were still chasing dreams—perhaps Hank could turn his drift car into a mobile treasure hunter.
Meanwhile, Dr. Saul Newman, who had taken it upon himself to debunk the myth of the Blue Zones, was busy scribbling notes in his cluttered office, which resembled a library after an overzealous raccoon had a particularly wild night. “Centenarians are overrated,” he declared to his cat, Mr. Whiskers, who looked unimpressed. “Longevity isn’t just about diet and exercise; it’s about not being spied on by your robot vacuum!” This was a point that Hank could relate to; after all, his own vacuum had a penchant for capturing the most intimate moments of his life, like the time he tried to negotiate with a stubborn pickle jar.
As the day progressed, a dockworker strike ended with a 62% wage increase, prompting Hank to muse over the absurdity of a world where people could not only drift their cars but also drift into better pay. “Maybe I should start a union for DIY enthusiasts,” he chuckled to himself, envisioning a world where they could negotiate for better tools and fewer distractions from prying household gadgets.
The sun set, casting a warm glow over Hank’s newly minted drift car, which now sported bright LEDs and a dubious array of stickers declaring, “I’m not just a car; I’m an experience!” He glanced at the latest headlines about data privacy, the impending doom of personal libraries, and the ever-looming threat of climate change. With a sigh, he reflected on his childhood memories of libraries—those sanctuaries of knowledge that now felt threatened by the digital age. Ironically, he had always wanted to build a library of his own, one filled with books that smelled of nostalgia and adventure, not the sterile scent of e-readers.
That night, as Hank lay in bed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was a tapestry of absurdities woven together by the threads of technology, privacy, and the pursuit of happiness. Perhaps he would start a new hobby: collecting memories—real ones, not just the kind captured by a Robo-Vac. After all, in a world where drift cars could be transformed and golden owls could be found, maybe the greatest treasure was simply being present, even if it meant occasionally dodging a peeping robot.
And who knows? Perhaps he’d even write a book about it, a fitting tribute to the tangible joys of life, which—unlike his beloved die-cast cars—couldn't be hacked or bricked. Or at least, not yet.