General chit chat and shit talk.
- Thread starter Kontradiction
- Start date
Sugar. I've reduced my sodium intake so much I can't handle salty foods, so it's already effectively out.
I don't do sugar, haven't got a sugar bowl. Although I do some cooking with brown sugar. I also don't drink coffee anymore, about 5-6 years without it.
could easily live without coffee or potato
i dont really use salt much either, but so much shit has salt in it.. would be weird to not have it present anymore
View: https://www.facebook.com/lawrence.m.otter/posts/pfbid031VMzrTY9HfHNjS7wr4Z7JVW3cp8powyPFCFK4VAPBKTvUFyyJnRA6ZRoEGusCUoyl?__cft__%5B0%5D=AZYh_kCWuHmSEbpo9jvnYt15l1po3h1q0KCL1XTp60JTs-mJpcp9nCgC6XzRd4rHhJiBBs4dQ8xer6OawPEWAsroV8_0QaLik0fQJ_nG4bNhy0z9zDso3gGd6dpZFW3JZ-ICM8oJgYbPNKiHyJ_4HBsrzgMgqhuFBDGcSdzS4_I0RlnnWwRVtbZ64TANnHqFC2U-iZ9RL-ZODZT_R5Zkp7OgUTZxUCOm0KMGvaQdRmi6-g&__tn__=%2CO%2CP-R
Every night, a history professor in a tiny Maine fishing village sits down to write. By morning, over a million people have read her words.
Her name is Heather Cox Richardson.
She's not famous in the way you'd expect. No television show. No viral videos. No bestselling memoir splashed across airport bookstores.
Just a desk. A laptop. And a commitment she's kept for over five years.
Every single night.
Heather is a history professor at Boston College. She specializes in 19th and 20th century American history—the moments when the country faced impossible choices, the turning points that shaped everything that came after.
She's spent her career studying these moments. Teaching them. Writing academic books that other historians read.
But in 2019, she started doing something different.
She began writing a nightly newsletter called "Letters from an American."
Not for other professors. Not for academic journals.
For everyone.
At first, it was just friends. Colleagues. A handful of people who wanted to understand what was happening in the world through the lens of someone who'd spent decades studying how we got here.
But then something extraordinary happened.
People started sharing it.
"You need to read this."
"This explained everything I've been confused about."
"I finally understand the context."
One subscriber became ten. Ten became a hundred. A hundred became thousands.
Today, over 1.5 million people subscribe to Heather Cox Richardson's newsletter.
That makes it one of the largest newsletters in the world.
Not because she's a celebrity.
Because every single night, she sits down and does the work.
Here's what that actually looks like:
Heather lives in Newcastle, Maine—a small fishing village where lobster boats dot the harbor and the population is under 600 people.
Most nights, she works until 11pm, midnight, sometimes 2am.
She reads the news. She identifies the threads—the patterns that people living through the moment can't always see because they're too close to it.
And then she writes.
Not in academic jargon. Not behind paywalls or university logins.
In clear, accessible language that treats readers like intelligent people who deserve to understand their own history.
She explains how things that seem brand new have actually happened before. How moments that feel unprecedented have precedents. How the tools we have—the Constitution, civic engagement, informed participation—were forged in earlier fires.
She doesn't tell people what to think.
She gives them the context to think clearly.
And she does it every single night.
Rarely misses. Even on holidays. Even when she's exhausted. Even when the news is overwhelming and it would be easier to step away.
Because she believes something radical:
That ordinary people, given accurate information and historical context, are capable of extraordinary understanding.
That education isn't something locked behind ivy-covered gates.
That history isn't dead names and dusty dates—it's the living story of how we got here and the map for where we might go.
Her newsletter is free. Anyone can read it. She offers a paid subscription option, but every single piece of content is accessible to everyone.
Because the whole point is access.
The whole point is that knowledge shouldn't be a luxury.
Here's what makes Heather Cox Richardson's story so powerful:
She's not trying to be famous. She's not building a brand or launching a media empire.
She's a professor who saw people struggling to make sense of their world—and decided to help.
Every night.
For over five years.
Over 1,500 consecutive nights of sitting down, doing the research, finding the connections, and writing it out in a way that makes sense.
That's not viral fame.
That's dedication.
That's the quiet, relentless work of someone who believes that education matters. That context matters. That helping people understand their own moment in history is worth staying up until midnight.
And a million people agree.
Teachers share her newsletter with students.
Grandparents forward it to grandchildren.
People in coffee shops pull out their phones and say, "Did you read Richardson last night?"
She's become the person who helps millions of people feel less alone in their confusion. Less overwhelmed by the flood of information. Less helpless in the face of complexity.
Because she shows them the patterns.
She shows them we've been here before—not exactly, but close enough that history offers guidance.
She shows them that understanding where we've been is the first step to deciding where we're going.
Heather Cox Richardson proves that you don't need a television studio or a social media team to reach millions of people.
You just need to show up.
Every single night.
With clarity, with context, and with a deep respect for the intelligence of ordinary people trying to understand an extraordinary moment.
From a small desk in a fishing village in Maine, she's teaching history to over a million students who never set foot in her classroom.
She's proving that one person, armed with knowledge and committed to sharing it, can make an enormous difference.
She's showing us that education isn't something that happens only in universities.
It happens wherever someone is willing to do the work of making complexity clear.
Every night, Heather Cox Richardson sits down at her desk.
She reads. She thinks. She connects the dots between then and now.
And then she writes.
By morning, a million people wake up a little more informed. A little more grounded. A little better equipped to understand the world they're living in.
That's not just teaching.
That's a gift.
And she gives it freely.
Every single night.
HSanders HSanders
Well-known member
If anyone is interested, this is her x site. She has a link in there to her substack.To subscribe 24 free.
My answer is Rocky Mountain oysters
I'll add soylent green to this as well.
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She has me blocked on X, she's very obviously a dirty commie judging by her feed.
