Thanks to Push10K now I am on my 160th day of streak and 13,135 pushups (or my own version of equivalents) so far. It is the best thing I did after feeling like Glutton after dinner last Christmas.
That is awesome! Congratulations on completing so many — and such a big streak! Good luck on your journey to the 20k, and let me know if you need any features to make it work for you.
Your morning latte costs $4.50.
The author traced every penny through 17 years of coffee industry data, from your local café to farms in Honduras.
The result? Your barista captured $1.67 for 3 minutes of work. The farmer who spent 6 months growing your coffee? They profited $0.04.
That's not a typo. Four cents.
This isn't about individual greed—it's about infrastructure. The entire supply chain is architected to ensure 97% of value is captured before coffee reaches the farm gate.
It sounds extreme, but the bulk cost comes from the coffee shop and those costs seem very reasonable (labour, equipment, rent, milk etc.).
On the other hand, I buy high quality, roasted coffee and prepare it myself. I pay maybe $0.30 per cup. If you compare that amount to the $0.04 the farmer gets, it seems far easier to grasp.
I have one and agree with the technical issues mentioned in this thread. This is my first experience with a writing tablet, although I have occasionally dabbled with an iPad with a stylus.
What draws me to use this device is that it creates a sense of "roominess," allowing me to lean back and consume, write, and engage in a non-aggressive way. This quality is something I miss in my other devices.
The monochrome display makes playing Wordle harder :).
I was a 16-year-old kid in still-developing India, 1986. One had to wait seven years to get a landline connection.
My friends and I went through the Morse Code speed test and evaluation course, for which we prepared weeks and weeks. I was issued the handle OM118.
The non-profit organization that issues the license had a single Ham Radio for which you need to apply well in advance for 30-minute slots.
Four of us huddled in a small booth of a room, fiddling with knobs, wondering why there was static instead of some exotic voice from another part of the world - Sri Lanka, at least, please God.
A voice crackled in. We immediately knew who it was, but we were too cool to admit it. The voice asked us where we were...Madras, we said. He was too...We went around talking over each other, and the other end said, "I am an actor. My name is Kamal Haasan."
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