今天的瑜伽课，是关于flexibility和拉伸。 帅哥老师专门做了一下演示，他说- 肌肉枪只能某种程度促进血液循环，但是如果要缓解和治疗身体的疼痛问题，是不够的。 答案就是 - 每天都拉伸一下，照顾好自己的身体！或者找专业的理疗师。

Parano1d ($NOID) 与加密货币两大巨头（BTC、ETH）在关键维度上的核心博弈关系： • 验证复杂度 (Validation Complexity)： Parano1d 凭借其 O(1)恒定时间验证与零知识证明 技术彻底胜出，摆脱了 BTC 和 ETH 沉重的历史账本包袱，使得全节点运行门槛降到最低。 抗量子计算能力 (Quantum Resistance)： Parano1d 诞生即自带符合 NIST PQC 标准的后量子密码学栈，而 BTC 和 ETH 现有的签名体系在未来量子计算面前需要面临巨大的软/硬分叉升级风险。 • 智能合约灵活性 (Contract Flexibility)： ETH 依旧是绝对的王者，拥有完备的图灵完备虚拟机（EVM）与极高的可组合性；Parano1d 的 16 条指令核心则更偏向于特定的活体权利约束，灵活性有所牺牲。 生态规模与流动性 (Ecosystem Size)： BTC 和 ETH 拥有无可匹敌的先发护城河与万亿级资金共识；Parano1d 作为一个技术尖端的极客项目，生态仍处于极早期的冷启动阶段。

$VICR 受到利好消息刺激，盘后股价涨幅达到11% VICOR 官宣一家领先的AI OEM厂商获得其VPD专利产品的授权。这对VICOR而言，是重大突破。（尤其考虑到VICOR目前正挥舞专利大棒，向诸多竞争对手发起了新一轮诉讼） ============================= Vicor licenses VPD to a leading AI OEM Sep 16, 2026 at 4:00 PM EDT ANDOVER, Mass., Sept. 16, 2026 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- Vicor has granted a non-exclusive license to a new OEM licensee with the right to procure Vertical Power Delivery (VPD) modules covered by Vicor patents from unlicensed suppliers. VPD enables high-performance AI compute and network processors fueled at a high current density from a low voltage source. VPD systems, consisting of a “multi-cell converter” and a VPD network, enable breakthrough performance by avoiding the “the last inch problem” of Lateral Power Delivery (LPD). VPD systems are protected by foundational patents to innovations conceived during a decade of pioneering research conducted by Vicor in the U.S. VPD licensees can source VPD solutions from unlicensed global suppliers, whose multi-cell Voltage Regulators (VR) or Integrated Voltage Regulators (IVRs) are stacked in a multi-layer system. VPD solutions using high current density and high gain MCM™ current multipliers manufactured as ChiPs™ (Converters housed in Package™) in a Vicor fab are also available to licensees. MCMs enable substantially higher total system efficiency, are much thinner and mechanically and thermally adept. By procuring VPD modules for high-performance AI accelerators from Vicor, licensees may earn substantial discounts on licensing royalties for commodity VPD modules from unlicensed suppliers. The Vicor licensing practice provides OEMs and hyperscalers with multi-source flexibility, supply chain redundancy, and scalability, including from U.S. based Vicor fabs. As high-performance compute and network processors migrate to VPD, unlicensed OEMs and hyperscalers may need a license to secure their supply chain. Potential licensees may expect a structured licensing practice providing much lower royalty rates for early adopters. Supply agreements with infringing suppliers may contain indemnification provisions for recovery of royalties and monetary damages, but cannot overcome importation bans.

《吻我之前，先把灯关了》 "Turn Off the Lights Before You Kiss Me" 据专家研究分析，恐怖片和爱情动作片，好莱坞惊险片都能刺激大脑分泌多巴胺，我现在把它们都放在一起了，那是不是应该双倍快乐来了。 According to expert research and analysis, horror movies, romantic action films, and Hollywood thrillers can all stimulate the brain to release dopamine. Since I’ve combined them all together, does that mean I’m in for a double dose of happiness? grok imagine prompt: "Turn Off the Lights Before You Kiss Me" 15 seconds, 9:16 vertical format, first-person perspective, recorded on a smartphone, single continuous take. [Realistic Cinematography] The footage is captured entirely by the rear-facing camera of the smartphone held by the male protagonist; no other cameras are involved. The male protagonist holds the phone in his right hand, using the primary (1×) rear lens—providing a field of view equivalent to approximately 26mm—at 1080p resolution and 30fps. The device is positioned between his chest and chin (at a height of roughly 1.45 meters), aimed toward a woman standing in the bathroom doorway. His left hand occasionally enters the frame to operate the light switch. The smartphone itself—its body, back panel, camera module, screen, or flash—is never visible in the shot. Only the light cast by the phone onto the subject, her clothing, and the walls can be seen. There are no mirrors present; this is not a mirror-based selfie. The footage retains the raw, authentic texture of smartphone video—no beauty filters, color grading, or cinematic effects. Skin details such as pores, fine beads of sweat, stray hairs, and natural skin-tone variations are visible. There is slight digital noise in the shadows, and brief motion blur occurs during rapid hand movements or moments of physical instability. Subtle camera shake stems from the holder’s breathing and wrist movements. Changes in proximity are achieved through actual physical steps or the subject pulling the holder closer; there is no digital zooming, automated panning, reverse-angle cutting, or slow motion. The focus remains primarily on the woman’s face, with only momentary hesitation when the distance shifts abruptly—there is no persistent out-of-focus effect. [Characters and Attire] The woman in the doorway (@80130fc6-f744-4f61-9faf-f630a1eb8638) is 28 years old. Her appearance—including her black hair styled in an updo, purple floral hair accessory, earrings, long-sleeved Japanese-style (wafuku) garment in purple (@d7529a1b-8cdb-41e5-816e-c59aa4051803), and dark-colored *obi* (sash)—is consistent with the video uploaded by the user. Her clothing remains intact; the neckline stays in place, and she does not scratch her own chest or tug at her garments. Leaning slightly against the doorframe, she keeps her shoulders relaxed and lowered, her neck elongated, and her legs positioned one in front of the other—creating a natural, subtle S-curve in her posture. She gazes toward the male protagonist with half-lidded eyes and a faint, inviting smile, as if beckoning him closer. From the very beginning, her right hand holds a small pinch of fabric from the male protagonist’s left cuff. This point of contact—her right hand gripping his left cuff—is situated in the lower-left portion of the frame and must remain visible. Because she is only holding the fabric rather than clamping down on his wrist, he retains the freedom to lift his left hand and operate the light switch. Initially, her left hand is concealed between her body and the doorframe. The grayish-white fingers that appear later belong to this same hand; the creature possesses only two hands throughout the entire sequence. The real girlfriend is located in the hallway behind the male protagonist. She is present only as a voice calling out from off-screen; she is never shown on camera, and no second female face appears. 【Environment and Space】 The scene takes place at the entrance to a bathroom in an old apartment building late at night. The setting—featuring aged off-white tiles, a worn wooden doorframe, a standard wall-mounted light switch, and a towel hanging inside the bathroom—conveys the lived-in, weathered feel of an old residence, rather than a ruin. The woman is positioned slightly to the right of the frame’s center, with the open bathroom door behind her. The light switch is located on the wall to the left, approximately thirty centimeters from the male protagonist’s left hand. It is visible from the start and does not suddenly appear later. Behind the male protagonist lies a hallway. The bathroom door remains open inward; the camera angle stays consistent throughout, the door does not move on its own, and the room’s layout remains unchanged. At the start, the woman’s face is about sixty centimeters from the camera. After she gives a gentle tug on his cuff, the male protagonist shifts forward slightly, reducing the distance to approximately forty-five centimeters. The distance closes further only during the final dragging motion. 【Ambient Lighting】 At the beginning, a warm-white overhead light in the bathroom is on, illuminating the woman’s head, shoulders, and the doorway, while the hallway remains dim. The LED flash on the back of the smartphone is illuminated from the very first frame; it remains on and in the same position throughout the entire 15-second duration. Up close, the face is illuminated by the harsh, direct light of a standard mobile phone; small shadows form beside the nose and under the chin, and there are localized highlights on the fabric of the clothing—no artificial "beauty" fill lighting is applied. The only light the male lead turns off is the overhead bathroom light. Once the overhead light is extinguished, the bathroom background remains dim and does not brighten on its own. The phone’s light continues to illuminate her face and the hand gripping the sleeve cuff. The camera’s auto-exposure adjusts only slightly, failing to brighten the dark bathroom to a daylight-like state. When the "mask" (the outer layer of the face) is peeled back, it is illuminated by the same mobile phone light as the rest of the face. The space deep behind the shell remains dark, and the exposed eyeball shows only natural, subtle reflections—it does not emit its own light. [The "False Face" Effect] The horror stems from a thin, pliable, artificial layer being peeled back from within—it is not a case of natural skin being torn or a mouth stretching into an impossible, elongated shape. A grayish-white hand—with only two or three fingertips visible—emerges from the corner of her mouth, hooks onto the lower edge of the "mask," and peels half of the face upward and to the side. The "mask" has a distinct thickness and flexibility; the cheek and part of the area beside the nose fold back, rather than stretching into long, tubular, funnel-like, or tongue-like shapes. Behind the peeled-back section lies a deep, dark cavity containing a normal-sized human eye, which turns to look directly at the camera. The other half of the woman’s face remains intact, establishing the premise that there is an artificial layer on the outside, with something else concealed beneath it. There is no blood, gore, exposed muscle, black ooze, or liquid-like melting effect. The grayish hand does not reach in from off-screen; its fingertips must first emerge from within the corner of the mouth. [Strict 15-Second Timeline] 0–4 Seconds | Gripping the sleeve, an invitation to draw closer. The woman leans sideways against the doorframe, looking first into the male lead’s eyes, then glancing briefly toward the light switch on the left. With her right hand, she grasps the male lead’s left sleeve cuff—positioned at the bottom-left of the frame—and gives it a gentle tug toward herself. The fabric of the cuff pulls taut, prompting the male lead to take a small step forward; the camera moves in tandem with his approach. She lifts her chin slightly and says in a low voice: “The lights are too bright.” Her tone is intimate, with a suppressed smile playing at the corners of her mouth. There is no sign of a monstrous visage, nor does she glance toward her own mouth beforehand. Her right hand continues to hold the same spot on his sleeve; she does not shift her grip to his lapel. 4–7 seconds | Flipping the switch; the background darkens The male protagonist reaches out with his left hand toward a light switch already visible on the left side of the frame. She keeps her grip on his left sleeve, causing her right arm to extend naturally as he moves—she neither lets go nor suffers any "clipping" (graphical glitching). His fingertips press the switch, producing a distinct *click*. The bathroom overhead light goes out, and the tiles, towels, and the space behind the woman grow noticeably darker. Her face remains illuminated by the fill light from a mobile phone. The male protagonist’s left hand pulls away from the switch and returns to the space between them. The camera tilts slightly with the movement, then steadies. 7–9 seconds | A warning from behind From about two meters behind the camera, the man’s actual girlfriend calls out urgently, in an identical tone: “Don’t turn off the light!” The woman in front of him says nothing; her lip movements do not correspond to this warning. As the male protagonist begins to turn, the camera shifts slightly to the side—but the hand gripping his sleeve suddenly tightens, holding him in place. Her smile vanishes. Her eyes glance past the camera toward the space behind the man, then return to the lens. Her knuckles whiten as she grips the sleeve, causing deeper creases to form in the fabric. 9–12 seconds | Half of her face is peeled back from within Two or three grayish-white fingertips emerge from the inner corner of her mouth. The fingertips hook onto the lower edge of the "shell" of her face, slowly peeling it upward and outward. The corner of her mouth and her cheek—forming a single, thin, pliable layer—fold back together; the lips do not stretch or elongate independently. Half of the artificial face is lifted away, revealing an eye in the darkness beneath that shifts to look directly at the camera. The intact half of her face remains visible alongside the eye revealed from within. For a brief moment, the camera steadies, allowing at least half a second to take in the details: Fingers emerge from within the face; the "shell" of the face begins to fold back, revealing another eye underneath. The woman’s right hand maintains a firm grip on the man’s left cuff—she cannot let go, even as she peels back the face. The only sounds are the dry, grating friction of the mask and the man’s sudden, sharp intake of breath. 12–15 seconds | The grip shifts into a forceful tug. The man immediately grabs the woman’s right wrist—the one holding his cuff—and tries to pry it away. The point of contact is clearly visible; he does not reach for the grey, peeling fingers. The creature’s right arm suddenly retracts toward the bathroom, yanking the cuff hard. The sequence must be clear: The cuff goes taut → the man’s left arm is pulled straight → his body stumbles forward → the camera (held in his right hand) is dragged closer. The camera moves from about 45 centimeters away to roughly 15 centimeters, accompanied by a sudden dip and tilt—this is not a smooth, controlled zoom. The partially peeled-back face, the unblinking eye beneath, and the greyish-white fingers now dominate the frame. The other half of the face remains "normal," preserving its original appearance. In the final half-second, the man collides with the wooden doorframe, producing a dull thud. The camera jerks to the side; the edge of the facial shell sweeps across the lens, partially obscuring the view. The recording ends abruptly while the struggle is still underway. No fade to black, no additional dialogue, and no new creatures appear. [Ambient Audio] Captured via a mobile phone microphone: close-range speech, the friction of fabric at the cuff, the sound of a light switch, the hum of a bathroom exhaust fan, the distant ambient noise of the city, heavy breathing, and the final impact against the doorframe. The exhaust fan continues to run independently; it does not stop when the overhead light is switched off. The background sounds maintain a sense of spatial distance—they are not suddenly muted for the sake of a "jump scare." The opening line, "The light is too bright," comes from the woman in front of him. The mid-sequence line, "Don't turn off the light," clearly originates from behind the man; the woman in front does not move her lips. There is no further dialogue—no sinister laughter, voice-over narration, heartbeat sound effects, or pre-recorded horror audio cues. [Mandatory Continuity] The only camera is the mobile phone through which the audience is viewing the scene; the phone itself is never visible within the frame, nor is there any additional camera operator. The male protagonist holds the phone in his right hand; he uses his left hand to flip the light switch, then immediately grabs the monster’s right wrist. The monster’s right hand remains firmly gripping the same spot on the male protagonist’s left cuff; its left hand lifts a portion of the "false face" from underneath. Do not generate a third hand, swap left and right hands, or have the monster’s hand shift its grip from the cuff to the female protagonist’s own clothing. Once the bathroom light is turned off, it remains off; the mobile phone’s light source (fill light) stays on. The positions of the door and the light switch remain fixed. Changes in distance must be achieved through physical movement (stepping or dragging); do not use digital zoom. The "false face" should be lifted, not stretched like rubber; do not generate long tongues, tubular mouths, an elongated jaw, or a melting face.

同一个“灵活”，在经济学家那里，可以指工作安排的灵活性（对工作时间和安排的自主控制）；对收入难以预期、岗位不稳、社会保障（包括养老金等保障性福利）不足的劳动者，它却可能像是在把困境重新命名为福利。作者认为，张丹丹引发的争议，暴露了精英所用的经济话语与不稳定就业（缺乏稳定岗位、可预期收入和充分社会保障的就业）现实之间的裂缝。 张丹丹是北京大学国家发展研究院经济学教授、副院长。她在《聊一波》被问到“灵活就业”（涵盖多种工作处境的宽泛称呼）人群的社会保障问题时说：“从劳动经济学的角度看，工作安排的灵活性本身就是一种福利。”她随后解释，正式雇员接受固定工时，放弃一部分时间上的自由，换取养老金等福利；灵活就业者（涵盖多种处境的统称）获得更多工作自主性（对工作时间和工作安排的控制），代价则是较弱的社会保障。 文章记录，这句话传播得比前后的限定语更远。许多网民把她理解成在赞美不稳定就业，仿佛没有稳定岗位、单位缴费和可预期收入的劳动者应当感谢这种“自由”。作者同时指出，另一种合理理解是：张丹丹在说明劳动者可能看重时间自主权，而且她明确承认这种选择常伴随较弱的社会保障。仅凭这段对话，很难断定她对研究对象漠不关心。 作者认为，把张丹丹描绘成无视普通劳动者的象牙塔学者，与她的研究记录并不吻合。2023年3月，中国16至24岁青年官方失业率为19.7%；张丹丹估计，如果把约1600万已经停止求职的非在校青年也视为失业者，失业率上限可能达到46.5%。文章强调，这一估算采用了比官方口径更宽的失业定义。 文章认为，她更重要的一项研究，是揭示零工经济（以短期或按需工作为特征的经济形态）早已不限于手机应用里的送餐和网约车。2022年至2024年，她的团队走访昆山、东莞、佛山和深圳近30家制造企业、20家劳务中介及10个人力市场。结合田野调查和人口普查数据，她估计中国约有4000万制造业零工劳动者（按短期或按需工作谋生的劳动者），占该行业劳动力的31.12%。在所研究的制造业集群中，这类劳动者平均约占三分之一，旺季可升至三分之二，在一些大型工厂甚至可达80%。 这种处境并非边缘现象。文章称，政府在2025年底估计，中国有超过2亿灵活就业者，约占全国劳动力的四分之一、城镇劳动力的五分之二。2026年6月，一家由首都经济贸易大学创办的研究机构发布非官方报告，估计当年人数达到3.2亿。文章据此认为，灵活就业已经成为中国劳动力市场的一项显著特征。 作者还把这场争议放进中国社会长期不信任专家的语境中。“砖家”（zhuanjia；以“砖”代替“专家”的中文网络贬称）之所以流行，是因为一些公众认为，拥有稳定职位、较高收入和社会地位的评论者，常在向普通人解释为何普通人所受的苦是必要的，甚至是一件好事。作者承认，其中一些敌意显然并不公平；但当就业前景长期艰难时，许多中国人对看似给困境换上好听名称而非承认困境的语言格外敏感。 作者认为，其中一些劳动者无疑看重张丹丹所描述的那种工作安排的灵活性。张丹丹的研究也指出，一些年轻制造业劳动者认为正式工厂合同限制较多，相对于工资并不划算；另一些人进入零工岗位，则是因为更好的选择已经消失。作者的结论是，这场风波并非一句话凭空制造了就业焦虑，而是原有的不安全感让“灵活”这个词带上了政治和情绪重量：当数以百万计的劳动者不确定自己面对的工作安排的灵活性究竟是主动选择的，还是被动落到身上的，一项学术区分也可能被听成对现实困境的粉饰。 原文：When “Flexibility” Sounds Like an Insult ｜作者：Zichen Wang｜2026-08-23