Easter

Why is the rum always gone?

Asta’s Easter booty

The above is the Möbius-obverse to Molyneux’s problem: A blind person might hold the centermost egg in the photo and describe its shape, then hold another basketed egg and describe it’s shape, and yet another and so on and so on, but be unable to discern inscriptions. Then we would miraculously restore sight to our disabled subject. Would he then, by tactile memory alone, be able to pick out the egg wax-crayon etched: “Why is the rum always gone?” 1

Easter

Show 1 footnote

  1. Exhibit 1 among the reasons why we returned the Astas to these here United States of Amurika; that fancy Swiss school was teaching them some impertinent ideas. The local nuns will steel-ruler-across-the-hands that shit right out of them.

The Bletchley

The Bletchley is a spy-themed London bar where you have to crack codes to order drinks.

To do that, you use imitation World War 2 Enigma machines which generate a unique code for every “agent.” Orders are then transmitted via radio to the bar.

The venue is inspired by Bletchley Park, the site where British mathematician and codebreaker Alan Turing and his team used to crack German codes during World War 2.

Ummm…about that.

Maybe don’t make it so bleedin’ hard to get soused?

The Bletchley