You have the opportunity to win a prize. There are three prizes for you to pick from, all three hidden in boxes. You get to pick one of the boxes, but without knowing what's inside.
Two of the boxes each contain $1 million. The third box contains a delicious, toasted ham and cheddar sandwich. You don't know which is which, and as a member of the internet's 's most vibrant, ham-loving poor community, you want that sandwich. And the game show host knows you want it.
You pick a box. Then, the game show host opens one of the boxes you didn't pick and reveals that it contains $1 million. He then offers you the ability to switch. He's willing to trade you the unopened box you didn't pick for the one that you had chosen. You can keep your previously selected box, or switch to the other unopened box. He taunts you, "what if you chose wrong? What if your box is the other $1 million? Don't you want that ham? You should switch!"
(Note: this is all a part of the show; both the reveal and the opportunity to switch would happened regardless of whether your initial pick was correct and does not indicate that he's trying to trick you.)
Wanting that sandwich to satisfy your ravenous hunger for ham, should you switch to the other box, stay with your initial choice, or does it not matter?
Two of the boxes each contain $1 million. The third box contains a delicious, toasted ham and cheddar sandwich. You don't know which is which, and as a member of the internet's 's most vibrant, ham-loving poor community, you want that sandwich. And the game show host knows you want it.
You pick a box. Then, the game show host opens one of the boxes you didn't pick and reveals that it contains $1 million. He then offers you the ability to switch. He's willing to trade you the unopened box you didn't pick for the one that you had chosen. You can keep your previously selected box, or switch to the other unopened box. He taunts you, "what if you chose wrong? What if your box is the other $1 million? Don't you want that ham? You should switch!"
(Note: this is all a part of the show; both the reveal and the opportunity to switch would happened regardless of whether your initial pick was correct and does not indicate that he's trying to trick you.)
Wanting that sandwich to satisfy your ravenous hunger for ham, should you switch to the other box, stay with your initial choice, or does it not matter?
THE Philosopher
You have the opportunity to win a prize. There are three prizes for you to pick from, all three hidden in boxes. You get to pick one of the boxes, but without knowing what's inside. Two of the boxes each contain $1 million. The third box contains a delicious…
Which box should you take?
Anonymous Quiz
15%
I'll get the ham sandwich by staying
30%
I'll get the ham sandwich by switching
55%
It's 50-50 odds of getting the ham sandwich either way
Nobody has sent me a single Trump thing. Ergo, this debate did not go well for him. Those who watched, is this inference correct?
THE Philosopher
Nobody has sent me a single Trump thing. Ergo, this debate did not go well for him. Those who watched, is this inference correct?
Ah, so that's why nobody's poasting about it
The ideal road respects the natural rhythm of day and night, employing only the bare minimum of artificial lighting necessary for safety and navigation. This principle, though it may seem counterintuitive in our light-saturated world, reveals itself as both practical and reverent upon closer examination.
Consider the primary purpose of a road: to facilitate travel. In this endeavor, a vehicle's headlights provide ample illumination for safe nighttime driving. These focused beams of light, designed specifically for nocturnal journeys, offer all the visibility a driver needs. Street lights, then, should serve a more limited purpose: drawing attention to critical areas like intersections.
However, our urban landscapes tell a different story. Cities, in their misguided quest for safety and modernity, have embraced a philosophy of total illumination. Streets blaze with light, turning night into an artificial day. This approach is wasteful, uglifying, and disrupts the natural cycles of flora and fauna that depend on periods of darkness.
In contrast, rural roads offer a more harmonious approach to nighttime travel. These minimally lit thoroughfares allow drivers to experience the natural beauty of the night while still providing adequate lighting for travel. The occasional street light serves its true purpose here, standing out as a beacon rather than blending into a sea of unnecessary illumination.
As we delve deeper into this issue, we must confront an uncomfortable truth: our society's obsession with constant illumination represents a form of hubris. The cycle of day and night, established since the dawn of creation, has been deemed insufficient by modern man. We have taken it upon ourselves to "improve" upon this divine design, as if the alternation of light and darkness that God ordained for life on Earth is somehow inadequate for our needs.
This arrogance, this presumption that we know better than the Creator who formed our world, is a dangerous path. By flooding our nights with artificial light, we are not only disrupting the ecosystems God designed, but we are also severing our connection to the natural world He gifted us. We are denying ourselves the awe-inspiring experience of a star-filled sky, the subtle beauty of a moonlit landscape, and the profound sense of peace that true darkness—as God intended it—can bring.
But let us speak plainly: this relentless illumination of our world is nothing less than a rebellion against God Himself. In our misguided quest for control, we have created a world that never truly sleeps, never truly experiences the restful darkness that is our birthright. This constant illumination is not progress; it is a form of blasphemy, a rejection of the natural cycles that the Almighty has ordained for His creation.
Every excessively lit street is an affront to the divine order. Each unnecessarily bright intersection stands as a monument to man's arrogance, a direct challenge to God's wisdom in separating light from darkness. We have the audacity to think we can improve upon His design, to believe that our feeble attempts to banish the night are somehow superior to the perfect balance He established.
We ought to cast off this prideful folly and humble ourselves before the Lord. We should design our roads not as rivers of light cutting through God's domain, but as humble pathways that honor and preserve the order that He bestowed upon us, embracing the darkness as the sacred gift that it is.
Consider the primary purpose of a road: to facilitate travel. In this endeavor, a vehicle's headlights provide ample illumination for safe nighttime driving. These focused beams of light, designed specifically for nocturnal journeys, offer all the visibility a driver needs. Street lights, then, should serve a more limited purpose: drawing attention to critical areas like intersections.
However, our urban landscapes tell a different story. Cities, in their misguided quest for safety and modernity, have embraced a philosophy of total illumination. Streets blaze with light, turning night into an artificial day. This approach is wasteful, uglifying, and disrupts the natural cycles of flora and fauna that depend on periods of darkness.
In contrast, rural roads offer a more harmonious approach to nighttime travel. These minimally lit thoroughfares allow drivers to experience the natural beauty of the night while still providing adequate lighting for travel. The occasional street light serves its true purpose here, standing out as a beacon rather than blending into a sea of unnecessary illumination.
As we delve deeper into this issue, we must confront an uncomfortable truth: our society's obsession with constant illumination represents a form of hubris. The cycle of day and night, established since the dawn of creation, has been deemed insufficient by modern man. We have taken it upon ourselves to "improve" upon this divine design, as if the alternation of light and darkness that God ordained for life on Earth is somehow inadequate for our needs.
This arrogance, this presumption that we know better than the Creator who formed our world, is a dangerous path. By flooding our nights with artificial light, we are not only disrupting the ecosystems God designed, but we are also severing our connection to the natural world He gifted us. We are denying ourselves the awe-inspiring experience of a star-filled sky, the subtle beauty of a moonlit landscape, and the profound sense of peace that true darkness—as God intended it—can bring.
But let us speak plainly: this relentless illumination of our world is nothing less than a rebellion against God Himself. In our misguided quest for control, we have created a world that never truly sleeps, never truly experiences the restful darkness that is our birthright. This constant illumination is not progress; it is a form of blasphemy, a rejection of the natural cycles that the Almighty has ordained for His creation.
Every excessively lit street is an affront to the divine order. Each unnecessarily bright intersection stands as a monument to man's arrogance, a direct challenge to God's wisdom in separating light from darkness. We have the audacity to think we can improve upon His design, to believe that our feeble attempts to banish the night are somehow superior to the perfect balance He established.
We ought to cast off this prideful folly and humble ourselves before the Lord. We should design our roads not as rivers of light cutting through God's domain, but as humble pathways that honor and preserve the order that He bestowed upon us, embracing the darkness as the sacred gift that it is.
There is a card in a hat. It is either an ace or a king, with equal probability. You take an ace and throw it into the hat. You then choose a card at random from the hat. You see it is an ace. What are the odds the original card in the hat was an ace?
Anonymous Quiz
3%
0
5%
1 in 3
59%
1 in 2
28%
2 in 3
6%
1
There is a family with two children. You know that this family has at least one daughter. What are the odds, assuming the biological odds of having a male or female child are equal, that both of their children are daughters?
Anonymous Quiz
1%
0
20%
1 in 3
57%
1 in 2
21%
2 in 3
1%
1
There is a family with two children. You know that this family's oldest child is a daughter. What are the odds, assuming the biological odds of having a male or female child are equal, that both of their children are daughters?
Anonymous Quiz
3%
0
20%
1 in 3
67%
1 in 2
9%
2 in 3
1%
1
There is a family with two children. You know that this family's oldest child is a daughter. What are the odds, assuming the biological odds of having a male or female child are equal, that their youngest child neither a boy nor a girl?
Anonymous Quiz
79%
0
3%
1 in 3
11%
1 in 2
1%
2 in 3
7%
1
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A bread that's half made up of water? Water that you can get for free? Based and poor pilled.
Forwarded from Disclose.tv