If there are infinite universes, and the occurrences within them vary infinitely, then all occurrences across all of them are of equal likelihood.
This time a new shared post appeared:
With Holidays Imminent, Shoppers Prepare for War
She tapped it. Naturally, it turned out to be a hyperbolic headline referencing the exact same thing that happens every year. They could’ve used the word “battle,” but they took it up a notch. There was no indication that this year’s shopping season would be any more warlike than any other. If anything, more people were expected to shop online, perhaps decreasing the likelihood of any scuffles or stampedes in retail centers. She expected as much when she tapped it, but had held out — wait, was it hope? Did she actually hope that some violence might be on the horizon? Or did she hope merely that the news story might (unlike most) be a thrill to read?
This self-indictment troubled her more than the general banality of online media (a given), and more than the idea of violence perpetrated by and against strangers (also a given).
She refreshed the feed. That headline appeared further down, after several other stories about spending projections and items predicted to be popular gift choices.
Someone could do a movie about toys that kill people unless people buy them, she thought.
Sounds pretty 80’s.
I should watch Gremlins 2 again.
You don’t get enough omega fats. You don’t get enough minerals. You don’t get enough phytonutrients. You don’t get enough fiber. What do you get? What are you getting? What do you eat all day?
Across town, the woman kept refreshing her feed. She wanted to see how often the order in which the posts showed up would change. Every three or four refresh actions produced an entirely different sequence of posts. A few appeared almost every time. Most were visible only once. This served as a metaphor.
She drank matcha every day, but she only paid someone else to brew it for her maybe twice per week. Today, she paid someone $3.50 for a mug of matcha. Her box of matcha at home cost $6.75 and could produce enough brewed matcha to fill that mug twenty times.
A message: If you really want to leave thats ok but id like to have sex one more time either way lmk
She didn’t delete it. She didn’t reply. She went back to the feed and refreshed it.
Which is it: Anima or animus? This is a real question and it demands real attention, he believed. People don’t understand. Sometimes it’s one that wants to be another, and people have to help things along using their energy and smartphone. He meant to deliver all hermaphroditic objects into their destinies. He would prefer anima, though.
The taxi behind him honked its horn. He snapped out of it, wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting at the green light, and applied moderate pressure to the accelerator.