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This post is an excellent litmus test for understanding of just war theory. Despite the fact that I can see how effective this would be, I must oppose it because the damage it would do to my enemy (who bashes in my mailbox) would far outweigh the good of saving my mailbox. Its disproportionality is opposed by our duty in charity (and even justice) to watch out even for the good of our enemies. (Yes, by the way, I have had my mailbox bashed in by random vandals.)

Gentlemen, we are seeing an endangered species. Feminism has destroyed this.

No one is prepared for how materially poorer the UK is likely to become over the next two decades. A disproportionate share of British wealth is concentrated in housing. Over 40% of total household wealth, approaching £4 trillion, is tied up in residential property. For the past 30 years that seemingly worked very well. Housing absorbed a significant share of monetary premium in an environment defined by falling interest rates, expanding credit and persistent monetary easing. It ceased to function purely as shelter and instead became leveraged money and a store of value. The UK faces a combination of headwinds that means this is going to change. An ageing population, low birth rates, slowing population growth and increasing capital outflows as high net-worth individuals relocate to more favourable jurisdictions in the Middle East and Asia. At the same time, housing is no longer the only recipient of excess liquidity. The global choice for storing value has expanded and alternative monetary assets, such as Bitcoin, are beginning to compete for that premium. The UK has mistaken housing inflation for wealth creation for three decades. What follows is unlikely to be a sudden collapse but a slow erosion of real value concealed by nominal stability. A large portion of British wealth is far more fragile than widely understood.

The following is a true story from my life, which is related to the contents of this article in The Guardian: In July 2009, I hiked part of the Grand Canyon with an ex-girlfriend, who I will call Sara. Sara and I were both in our 20s, and we were accompanied by four high school-aged relatives/friends. The plan was to head off early in the AM to hike the 10 miles down, stay over night at the bottom, and then hike the 10 miles up the next day. During the hike down, Sara's walking was slow, and she was pre-occupied with taking nature photos at every possible opportunity. Her slow walking was a problem because, although we started early, it was July and the sun was starting to beat down on us--something that would only becoming progressively worse with more time on the trail. As I recall, everyone in the group recognised Sara's slow walking as a problem. Everyone but Sara understood that we needed to get to the bottom of the Canyon sooner rather than later, because we were in the sun doing strenuous exercise, and we didn't have endless supplies of water. It was also the first time any of us had hiked the Grand Canyon. Sara continued her slow walking and picture taking. At multiple points, we offered to carry Sara's bag for her so that her load would be lighter and she could walk more easily. Sara refused to give up her bag. She wanted to prove that she could do the hike without help. If my memory is correct, around the 5 mile mark, the group decided to split up. I stayed with Sara, and the high schoolers went on ahead of us, walking at their "fast" (i.e., appropriate) pace. Sara continued to walk slow, and signs of extreme fatigue / heat exhaustion were setting in. Sara became unwell physically and mentally. Again, I offered to carry her bag for her. Again, she refused. Though I was fit, I was also starting to feel unwell. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt that close to health exhaustion in my life. I was also not in a good place. Making matters worse, we ran out of water, and there were no water stations for the remainder of the hike. The key reason that why we ran out of water was Sara's slow walking, which continued to expose to the sun. Moreover, when we ran out of water, we weren't even close to the end. As I recall, we were still about 2-3 miles away from the end when we ran out of water, and we didn't even know where the end was because we were unfamiliar with the trail. Also, by that time, there wasn't a single soul left on the trail--no one walking down or up. We were alone. It was an awful experience. At one point, Sara had basically given up; she sat down in the middle of the path and wouldn't move. Eventually, perhaps through motivational efforts, Sara continued walking and we got to the end. When we got to the bottom, the high schoolers told us that they were so worried about us that were thinking about calling a rescue party to look for us. We slept over night at the bottom and then hiked the 10 miles back up the next day. Remarkably, after all that, Sara still would not allow anyone to carry her bag on the way up. Sneakily, when she was not looking, we would take things out of her bag to lighten her load. Bottom line: Sara's stubbornness, her desire to prove how strong and independent she was, her lack of adequate fitness, and her unwillingness to listen to people who understood nature, physiology, and physical fitness better than her, almost killed her...and me. She caused the high schoolers significant distress, and had they stayed with us, she might have also put them at increased health risk. During the hike, Sara exhibited a set of behaviors that I wanted nothing to do with moving forward. The "alpine divorce" can work in both directions but for different reasons.

We’re saying goodbye to the Sora app. To everyone who created with Sora, shared it, and built community around it: thank you. What you made with Sora mattered, and we know this news is disappointing. We’ll share more soon, including timelines for the app and API and details on preserving your work. – The Sora Team