Maybe you have heard of Roko's Basilisk. This is a thought experiment, for lack of a better term, popular among a certain set: hyper-rationalists, futurists, effective altruists. Tech-industry guys. You get the idea. The most exhausting humans who ever lived, that is to say. People who at present happen to command a critical share of the world economy.

If you're not familiar with it, Roko's Basilisk, in broad terms, supposes that at some point in the future a sentient and omnipotent artificial intelligence could arise, and that this intelligence could then decide to punish all those who had anticipated its possible arrival and either worked to prevent it or refused to participate in its development. In that case, the wise course of action for people now, who are aware of even the theoretical possibility of this scenario, would be to work in good faith to bring this AI into existence, lest they put themselves or their descendants in its future crosshairs.

I have been thinking about Roko's Basilisk this week. The occasion was a pair of engineers at the Anthropic artificial intelligence company using Twitter, as AI exponents regularly, exhaustingly do, to warn, as one of them put it, that "the people building AI earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade." The other guy was even more strenuous about it: "We really do earnestly believe AI could kill all humans! I personally think it is >10% within the next decade."

Were 19th century European visitors to the United States inclined to be super critical about the food they ate in restaurants and hotels? It’s hard to know the answer, but they were often negative. An example was a woman from Scotland who grew so used to bad food that she was surprised to find a good breakfast in La Junta, Colorado, in the 1880s. She bonded with the proprietor, a German who had been trained in Paris, agreeing that Americans were mainly interested in quantity, not quality. [Note: old images were impossible to find, so I have used a variety of some I have collected over time, all from the latter 20th century.]

Delmonico’s in New York was, of course, a glowing exception. Outside of New York, however, the Delmonico name lost its majesty. A typical example was the Delmonico restaurant in Walla Walla WA. The local newspaper advised the new owner to change the name, noting that it had been eagerly adopted “by so many inferior restaurants and hotels about the country.”

Most Boston restaurants were judged bad. A Boston paper declared in the 1890s that “in no city of the same size are there such inferior restaurants, so little tavern life, and so little appreciation of good cookery . . .”

Widespread criticism continued into the 20th century when keeping fresh food in cold storage for extended periods was targeted as a major culprit, added to the fact that Americans didn’t know how to order in a restaurant and bolted down their food.

In a 1920s essay, food writer Elizabeth Robins Pennell viewed cafeterias and the automats as proof that Americans cared little for food. The automat was perfect for those who didn’t want to waste time eating, she declared, “since after you put your money in the slot, the sandwich or salad, the coffee or chocolate that comes out may be swallowed as you stand – not one fraction of a second lost in a hunt for a seat.” She judged that “The man who first wrote ‘Eats’ above his restaurant door spoke the truth better than he knew, in one word pointing out to us the depths to which we have sunk.”

Duncan Hines criticized the nation’s restaurant mercilessly in the 1940s. He felt it was more dangerous to eat your way across the country than to drive across it. He admitted that he “would like to be food dictator of the U.S.A. just long enough to padlock two thirds of the places that call themselves cafes or restaurants.” He was expressing a common view of the food available to highway travelers, as also expressed in a 1951 Life magazine article which concluded that “In whatever region he is traveling, the American tourist soon finds that good simple American cooking is an elusive myth.”

But it wasn’t as though the dining public was necessarily going to fare better in cities. Occasionally restaurant reviewers revealed how unenthusiastic they were about a restaurant, without exactly trashing it. In a review a San Antonio oyster restaurant’s food, decor, and service were branded in turn as okay, inoffensive, and not exciting or depressing. The conclusion was that “You can pay a lot more for a lot less, and that’s the most exciting news of this review.”

In 1968 a columnist summed up restaurants of that time by agreeing with an experienced professional that mediocre restaurant food had become the norm. As examples he mentioned ‘The drive-in eatery, the Ma-and-Pa hash-house, the roadside ‘Stop-and-Eat’ wagon, the Main Street ‘Greasy Spoon.’ Hamburger. Ham-and-eggs. Canned fruit salad. Buns and coffee, and suggested diners might as well just “Take what they put before you. Slather it with ketchup. Eat and hurry on.’

By the 1980s, chain restaurants had become omnipresent across the nation. Two Chicago Tribune critics ranked 15 chains. They agreed that overall the quality of food in them was “mediocre.” The bottom five, which included the Ground Round (fatty, flavorless, and overcooked beef), Howard Johnson’s (rubbery clams, over-breaded shrimp, too much fried food), the International House of Pancakes (nothing-special crepes, old toppings, tough steak, plain lettuce salads), Shakey’s (substandard pizza, starchy buffet), and Wag’s (withered salad greens, chili tasting like canned), came in for heavy criticism.

However much patrons might complain about food (or service) in a restaurant, they tended to make their peace and accept less than perfection at restaurants that they frequently patronized. They kept their criticisms to themselves – even though restaurateurs say they would have preferred to hear them.

In 1993 columnist Kevin Cowherd described a fantasy eruption of anger that might occur after taking a bite of bad food in a restaurant: “. . . it’s so awful that you spit the food into your hand and fling it angrily at the ceiling and then stand up, backhand all the silverware and glasses off your table and scream . . .” He admits he never threw a fit like this but says, “Just once I want to react to lousy restaurant food with a major, king-hell tantrum that shakes the walls and peels the paint and makes everyone around me cringe.”

Whew!

© Jan Whitaker, 2026

Nearly four decades have passed since ACT UP (the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) started in New York in 1987 as a direct action activist group “united in anger and committed to direct action to end the AIDS crisis.” The 1980s were a time of mass death and government inaction, and ACT UP responded with confrontational protests that disrupted business as usual to force change.

Source

For seafood lovers, there are few things more appealing than a simple slab of raw tuna — a fish whose fatty, savory, and tender muscle tissue has been a delicacy for thousands of years.

Unfortunately for those foodies, fresh raw fish comes with the distinct possibility of parasitic infection. Off the coasts of southern Brazil, that risk is rising, as hauls of the common skipjack tuna come with the near certainty of parasitic contamination.

That’s not an exaggeration. According to a new report published in the journal Ocean and Costal Research and flagged by ScienceAlert, a whopping 96 percent of a recent load of tuna was infested with gut-busting worms.

Out of 53 skipjack, marine researchers counted over 1,600 worms infesting nearly every organ of every fish hauled in from the ocean. Only the kidneys and hearts of the tuna remained worm-free, the researchers noted. Everything else, including the muscle tissue we humans eat, was festering with flatworms and roundworms.

Though most preparation methods will kill the parasites, the images are pretty off-putting. As the researchers explain, the sheer volume of parasitic infection is alarming.

“These results highlight the importance of sanitary inspection and emphasize the importance of immediate evisceration to avoid the migration of larvae from the viscera to the musculature,” the authors write.

Still, parasitologists say the worms aren’t all bad. Though increased presence of worms also comes with more risk of infection, University of Washington parasitologist Chelsea Wood told ScienceAlert in a prior story that they can actually be a sign that the fish is well-sourced.

“Everyone assumes that worms in your salmon is a sign that things have gone awry,” Wood said. “But the anisakid [roundworm] life cycle integrates many components of the food web. I see their presence as a signal that the fish on your plate came from a healthy ecosystem.”

More on food: Scientists Turn Plastic Waste Into Edible Cookies Because That’s the Future We Deserve

The post Scientists Find That 96 Percent of Delicious Tuna Is Infected With Parasitic Worms appeared first on Futurism.

Erin West and Paul Raffile stepped out of their van about 45 minutes outside Lagos, Nigeria, and walked down a muddy hill. At the bottom, they entered a field with houses made of corrugated steel and cardboard. Raffile kept falling into the mud.

After walking about a quarter of a mile, the pair came to a hut, six feet high on stilts, and climbed up a ladder. Inside was the baba lao, a local spiritual leader. The baba lao was going to do a ritual designed to ensure a Nigerian scammer would make more money in his blackmailing or manipulation of an overseas victim, maybe back in the United States.

A scammer who accompanied West and Raffile had a photo of the victim he was trying to get money from, and the identity he had impersonated to do so. The baba lao then fused these two souls together to bring more fortune to the scammer, Raffile recalled. For two and a half hours, the baba lao jumped between grinding herbs, creating talismans, sacrificing an animal. Locals gathered outside the hut.

West and Raffile are scam experts: West is the founder of Operation Shamrock, an organization that aims to disrupt scam operations, and Raffile is a long time cybercrime researcher, who focuses especially on sextortion. This is where scammers, like those in Nigeria, will assume the identity of a young person, approach teenagers in the U.S. on apps like Instagram, have them record explicit videos, then pull the mask away and threaten to release the videos to the victim’s friends and family unless they pay up. Sextortion is common across U.S. social media platforms; at least dozens of young boys have taken their own lives after being targeted.

The pair hatched a plan to go to Nigeria to see if they could actually track down a scammer. The trip provided rare insight into how some scammers live and how brazenly many of them flaunt their scams.

Sextortion is “targeting youth. It's surging,” Raffile said. “I wonder, can we hatch a plan where we put ourselves out there as a target, create our own fake account, get scammed by these criminals, and then trace the criminal back to their home turf?”

They made an Instagram and Snapchat account pretending to be a young person. Within a couple of days, they started receiving suspicious direct messages. West said she was “flabagasted” at how quickly the messages came in.

The scammers were pretending to be young women, often using photos stolen from OnlyFans models. As the chat progressed and the scammers demanded money, the pair said they could only pay in Bitcoin, and sent a link to a website where the scammer could allegedly claim their payment. The site was actually grabbing the scammers’ IP addresses. It showed the scammers were in Lagos, Nigeria. With not much to go on just yet, the pair got on a flight to Nigeria.

Once they landed, they had around six days to find a scammer. It would not be financially viable to sit around in Lagos forever. The pair deployed the IP address grabbing website again, but this time one of the scammers granted the tool more permissions in his browser. The tool was also designed to, if possible, get their exact location, or turn on its camera and see their face. This time, it worked. They had a scammer’s face.

At one point, another scammer asked the pair to move from Instagram, where the conversation initially happened, over to WhatsApp, which revealed the scammer’s phone number. The pair’s fixer put that number into TrueCaller— an app that harvests peoples’ phone contact lists and makes them searchable, essentially — which revealed the name Big Dollar. West also provided the number to some contacts who investigated it. They worked with another expert too who was able to dig up more information and find the scammer’s real name. They then found other social media profiles belonging to Big Dollar, including a TikTok account that had posted blackmail messages. The pair were given GPS coordinates of where this scammer might be.

They drove to Big Dollar’s village, and ultimately he refused to meet the pair. West told Big Dollar on the phone, we know who you are, we know where you live, and the next step is we’re going to give this information to the FBI. Around this time, they saw Big Dollar’s social media accounts go dark. 

West said, “it was an interesting opportunity to really put some fear in a class of people who aren't really afraid of being arrested.”