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History's Reproducibility Crisis
An Essay Of Minor Import
🥱 Okay, fair warning. I didn’t sleep amazing last night. So I’m a little tired today. 🥱 But I should be good to write this without falling asleep.
We all know about science’s reproducibility crisis, right? The idea that lots of studies are being published in peer-reviewed journals that other scientists can’t 🥱 damn I’m so fucking tired. 🥱 Well, anyway, there’s like —
Whoa, sorry. Drifted off there for a second. Yeah. History is suffering from the same, um, nasty symptoms. Like, historians can’t verify from primary sources that 🥱 goddamn. Goddamn. I just need to take a quick power nap. Just a super quick, nice, easy. 😴
Oh, you’re here too. In my dream. How’re you doing? It feels nice to be here. There’s a lot to see here. Here’s my workplace.
Here’s my home.
Here’s the canyon I jump over sometimes.
And this is my dog.
So yeah. That’s my dream life. It’s pretty ripping. Sometimes I have a crazy exam that I haven’t studied for. Things happen here—crazy things. Sometimes Manhattan gets nuked, but then the next night everything is okay. Speaks to the power of the human spirit to always rebuild, I guess. Sometimes I’m naked and sometimes I’m wearing my own skin as clothes. You never know what you’re gonna get here. Sometimes that can be its own type of stress. Like, you’re super tired, what if you have a stressful dream? How is that supposed to be restful for you?
Anyway, if you don’t mind, I want to go hairboard down my uncle’s back. That’s something you can do here. It’s really fun. It’s like surfing but culturally cooler, in my dreamscape. Cowabunga, dudes!
I think the worst dream I remember having—recently, at least—was one in which I got called for a charge with less than two minutes left in the fourth quarter. I woke up so pissed.