The Bush is Burning — shipping a record label live, with circus music

Jed floats buying a Kennel Club or a BAKC; Showman advises against it ("Do you know how many crypto Moris you could buy, pal?"), then explains his actual strategy: announce the purchase, watch the floor, never buy. Burningbush diagnoses it instantly — "we call that a patron" 12:03.

KOWSKY.eth clocks that Showman has been floating around spaces since 2021, which Showman takes as the cue to announce his Web3 comeback tour. Jed's contribution: Showman right-click-saved his own PFP — technically true, since the new 3D Mori avatar exists because the originals are gone.

Burningbush replays Patron from the previous night, audibly thrilled at the moment Jed gifted him a Regenerate ("You better throw those emojis up, guys"). Jed had offered it to the room as an emoji bounty; Showman's theory is that Patron woke up the next morning with no memory of it.

After an entire stretch of the space in which she was introduced, re-introduced, and sincerely believed to be Showman's grandmother, Sho breaks: "I can't lie to you anymore. I am not his grandma." KOWSKY had already drafted a postcard addressed to them both.

Burningbush plays a purpose-built pop-punk number about Showman spending $2,000 at Comic Con for a photo with the Lord of the Rings hobbits. Showman's only review: Gandalf wasn't there, so he got ripped off 23:28.

Burningbush sent some of his builds to Anthropic and got his five-hour usage cap lifted. His account of the email thread is probably not verbatim: "You ever heard of DeStefano's Steakhouse? And they were like, oh shit, you know Jed."

Cub (@LLCubKing) names the thing out loud: the music gets people up on stage and laughing, walls come down, and they stay. Burningbush, true to form, immediately says "recap clip that" because he needed exactly that soundbite for the site he was shipping. He follows with his own framing 44:11 — communities usually talk about themselves as silos, and he'd rather the Bush be the place where apes, regens and whoever else just overlap.

Showman, who works in film locations in Toronto, posts video of an actress jumping off a stack of speakers into a cake on a commercial shoot — feet slipped, medic ran in, a background actress cried. He then walks through his week of double-dipping two jobs and a location manager who caught him heading home at 3:30 PM 1:03:49.

The space turns unexpectedly serious-ish: Burningbush's middle-school stepson got in trouble for arguing in a class writing prompt that license-plate cameras aren't good for the community, which set off a conversation with the other parents. Cub adds that audits of search logs show officers running non-case lookups, and Patron describes one positioned to catch everyone leaving his development. Burningbush's local PD, meanwhile, has a QR code inviting residents to hand over their Ring feeds 1:27:08.

Ghost finds a live subscribe button before the site is officially announced, which prompts Burningbush to lay out the pricing logic: $5/month because it's affordable, an annual option that includes a custom song you can spend on your business or on roasting a friend, and payments routed through the web to dodge App Store cuts.

Lyss lights up over the new recap feature that preserves fireside chats — conversations she'd assumed were simply gone, since X and Grok are useless at surfacing old spaces. The counter: 29 archives, 44 hours, 36,000 live reactions recorded.

A first-timer gets the house rule — 30 seconds, say whatever you want — and delivers a wonderfully unfiltered non-introduction. She gets a round of applause, a follow, and a brand-new genre for the catalog: Burningbush writes her an Evanescence song about accidentally raising her hand in a Twitter Space.