Muted, Unmuted, and Mildly Unhinged (feat. Drew Estates ACID 20th Anniversary)

In this episode, we are smoking the Drew Estate ACID 20th Anniversary Edition cigar while going through the dread of waiting to go on another planned webinar type meeting.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:15

All right, here we are again, outdoors, free air, actual oxygen, not regulated by corporate HVAC policy. I've got a Drew Estate Acid 20 in hand. Special anniversary edition, which feels appropriate because surviving modern televideo meetings deserves its own commemorative cigar. Toast, light, draw. There it is. That first poll like filling the Declaration of Independence from Outlook Calendar invites. I'm seated outside, iced coffee, sweating like a junior analyst, called on unexpectedly, and I've got about one twelve more minutes before I have to log back into what I can only describe as a federally unregulated hostage situation known as a quick sink. Quick. That's adorable. Have you ever noticed these meetings always start the same way? Hey everyone, can you hear me? No. No, we can't hear you, Greg. Because somehow you've joined what appears to be a 1997 dial-up modem located inside a submarine. Then comes the ritual troubleshooting. Try unmuting. I am unmuted. No, you're not.

unknown 1:38

Yes, I am.

SPEAKER_00 1:39

You're still muted. And just like that, five minutes have gone. Vanished into the same black hole where productivity and personal freedom go to die. Draw on a cigar. Slow exhale. Now, this acid 20 is a reminder that some things still work exactly as intended. No firmware update required. No can you see my screen? Just craftsmanship, consistency, and the quiet understanding that when something is good, you don't need a committee to explain it. Imagine if cigars were run like meetings. Before lighting, let's circle back on combustion strategy. Can we all align on flavor notes? I prepared a deck on ash retention. No, no, we cannot. Because that would ruin it. And yet, we tolerate it. Every day, the endless parade of slides. Oh, the slides. There's always that person, that one who proudly says, Let me just pull up the presentation and then proceeds to open the wrong file. The wrong version. Or my personal favorite, their entire desktop. Now, we're all staring at a chaotic wasteland of screenshots, PDFs, and something labeled, final, final V7, use this one. You had that one job. And I can't help but think, why are you even here? Why do 12 adults need to sit silently while one person reads bullet points to us that we could have read faster ourselves 10 minutes ago while enjoying a cigar like a civilized human being? Send a document, send a video, heck, send a carrier pigeon with a USB drive strapped to its leg. Anything but this. But no, because if we eliminate the meeting, we might accidentally reveal something that dangerous. That half these roles could be replaced by a well-written memo and a decent cup of coffee. Another poll. Ash is holding strong. And here's the question nobody asks, but everybody's thinking. How many of these people are actually wearing pants? To be honest, you've wondered it. There's always that one camera angle, just a little too carefully framed, a little too waste-up patriotic. Somewhere out there, a man is delivering quarterly projections in a blazer and a tie, and absolutely nothing below the equator. And you know what? In a strange way, I respect that. It's the closest thing to freedom happening in the entire meeting. Meanwhile, I'm out here. Iced coffee in hand, cigar burning steady, watching the world operate without a moderator or a raise hand feature. No one's asking permission to speak, no one's waiting for Greg to reconnect. It's almost like decentralized systems just work better. Funny how that keeps coming up. There's something beautifully libertarian about this moment. No agenda, no mandatory attendance, no slides, just voluntary participation between me and this cigar and a breeze that didn't require three approvals and a budget review. And yet, in a few minutes, I'll go back, I'll log in, I'll mute myself, I'll prepare and pretend to care deeply about synergy metrics. And I'll watch it as another 15 minutes evaporates because someone's microphone sounds like they're broadcasting from inside a washing machine. But I'll carry this with me. The calm of this cigar, the reminder that not everything in life needs to be over-complicated, over-managed, and over-explained. Some things just can't work. Final slow draw. Alright. Time to stub this out and re-enter the digital circus. If I go silent, just assume I'm having connectivity issues. Or better yet, I've achieved what we've all secretly been after. Freedom. Until next time, keep it lit, keep it brief, and for the love of liberty, wear pants. Or don't. That's between you and your webcam. This has been another episode of Liberty on Nicotine. If you want more information or want to support us, go to Libertycraft Media.com.

SPEAKER_01 6:43

I strike the match on the spine of the stage. Watch it for K. Every month's comment. Everyone's a pie.