I was listening to a brief snippet of a radio talk show and the topic was driverless cars. As far as the guest was concerned, driverless cars are inevitable (one of the things they touched upon is that since they're safer, insurance companies are probably going start charging higher prices for cars that require a driver.)

Shkreli, the CEO of Turing Pharmaceuticals who jacked up the price of Daraprim (pyrimethamine), wants to do the same thing to benznidazole, one of two medications known to be effective in treating Chagas disease.

Researchers used mtDNA and nuclear DNA analysis to pinpoint the origin of dogs to south East Asia (the northern part of Southeast Asia? It's confusing.)

A and I were listening to the Radiolab episode from November 2nd last night about S. aureus' evolution against antibiotics and how a microbiologist and a historian re-created an anti-bacterial remedy from the 10th century.

So I'm keeping my #ConspiracyTheories in abeyance, but at the very least, the #MSM fucked this up.

While Sam Smith has figured prominently in my personal internal soundtrack this year ("Latch", "[Good Thing][1]", his cover of Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know?", etc.), other than the generalized vibe of unrequited love, I didn't really feel any direct personal emotional associations with "Stay with Me" (this despite the fact that I included it on a few playlists, although it has since acquired indirect personal emotional associations….)

(In reference to how seriously fucked-up I am.)

It may be fun for a little while, but then you realize you’re only fucking yourself.

It is strange, now. My happiness (as artificial as it may be) is starting to wear off. I guess it's the part of me that wants to stay rooted. Inertia.