MIAMI – Lionel Messi e Inter Miami tinham uma vantagem de 3 a 0 sobre o rival Orlando Metropolis, parecendo preparados para finalmente conseguir o que seria uma primeira vitória histórica dentro do novo estádio do time.
A história foi realmente feita – isto é, por Orlando Metropolis.
Martin Ojeda marcou três gols, Tyrese Spicer marcou o gol verde no terceiro minuto dos acréscimos e Orlando Metropolis surpreendeu o Inter Miami por 4 a 3 na noite de sábado – tornando-se apenas o terceiro time na história da MLS a se recuperar de uma desvantagem de 3 a 0 e obter uma vitória.
“O maior retorno da HISTÓRIA DA MLS?” leia uma manchete no website da MLS após a partida.
Orlando certamente diria isso.
Messi marcou um gol e duas assistências em sua 100ª partida pelo clube, e de alguma forma isso não foi suficiente contra um time que chegou à noite perto do último lugar da classificação da MLS. O Inter Miami caiu para 0-1-3 em seu novo estádio, e o atual campeão é um dos únicos três occasions da MLS que não venceram em casa até agora nesta temporada.
Ian Fray e Telasco Segovia também marcaram pelo Inter Miami, que estava invicto (5-0-6) nas últimas 11 partidas em todas as competições e nas últimas nove partidas (5-0-4) na MLS. E depois, Fray disse que Messi falou no vestiário – chamando o resultado de “inaceitável”.
“Todos concordamos com ele”, disse Fray. “É inaceitável.”
De acordo com a MLS, as outras duas partidas em que um time recuperou de 3 a 0 para vencer – excluindo uma vitória nos pênaltis do MetroStars em 1996 – foram o Seattle derrotando o DC United por 4 a 3 em 2017 e o LA Galaxy derrotando o LAFC por 4 a 3 em 2018.
Orlando Metropolis (3-7-1) venceu apenas duas de suas últimas 15 partidas na MLS – incluindo playoffs – na temporada passada. Orlando Metropolis também teve 0-4-1 fora de casa no jogo da MLS nesta temporada.
Nada disso importava. Ojeda marcou aos 39 minutos e mandou o Orlando para o intervalo perdendo por 3-1. Ele marcou novamente aos 68 minutos para tornar as coisas interessantes.
Muito interessante do ponto de vista do Inter Miami.
Ojeda teve grande likelihood de empatar aos 73 minutos, sozinho no lado direito da área. Mas o goleiro do Inter Miami, Dayne St. Clair, saiu bem da linha e fez uma defesa à queima-roupa para manter o placar em 3-2.
Ojeda não foi negado, acertando um pênalti aos 78 minutos para empatar em 3-3. Ele teve outra likelihood aos 80 minutos, com St. Clair parando aquela com a cara – sim, com a cara – para manter a partida empatada.
Spicer finalmente conseguiu o gol verde para os visitantes, Messi e os Herons continuaram discutindo sobre o que consideravam serem chamadas perdidas e o tempo acabou.
O Inter Miami tem quatro partidas restantes antes do início da paralisação de sete semanas da MLS para a Copa do Mundo FIFA. Nenhum desses oponentes iminentes – Toronto, Cincinnati, Portland e Filadélfia – ultrapassou a marca de 0,500 no início do sábado.
Preparativos finais: Um oficial instala uma câmera CCTV em um centro de contagem em Thiruvananthapuram no sábado. PTI | Crédito da foto: –
O Diretor Eleitoral (CEO), Queralateria concluído que não houve violação das regras sobre a recente abertura de uma sala de materials eleitoral pelo oficial distrital (RO) para o Círculo eleitoral da Assembleia de Perambra no Complexo de Educação Islâmica JDT, onde são mantidas máquinas de votação eletrônica (EVMs) para oito segmentos no distrito de Kozhikode. O CEO também descobriu que a presença do RO do círculo eleitoral da Assembleia de Koyilandy perto da sala-forte no dia seguinte também não period ilegal.
Isto foi revelado pelo Coletor Distrital Snehil Kumar Singh, que também é o Oficial Eleitoral Distrital, em uma entrevista coletiva aqui no sábado (2 de maio).
Os fãs do Arctic Monkeys têm mergulhado no significado por trás da icônica música Fluorescent Adolescent, que foi lançada em 2007 e continua sendo uma das favoritas até hoje.
Os Arctic Monkeys existem há duas décadas e as pessoas ainda falam sobre seus primeiros sucessos(Imagem: Samir Hussein, Samir Hussein/WireImagevia Getty Photographs)
Você provavelmente já ouviu a música Fluorescent Adolescent dezenas de vezes. A música indie rock, lançada pelos Arctic Monkeys em 2007, enche muitos de nós de nostalgia.
Aparece no segundo álbum da banda Sheffield, Favourite Worst Nightmare, e alcançou a 5ª posição nas paradas. As letras agridoces refletem o apogeu do narrador e capturam o sentimento compartilhado por aqueles que se estabeleceram para uma vida mais padronizada. Mas você já parou para pensar o que o título realmente significa?
Um fã do Arctic Monkeys fez esta pergunta no Reddit, onde perguntou: “Qual é o significado por trás do título Adolescente Fluorescente? Tenho me perguntado recentemente o que significa, já que ambas são duas palavras que você provavelmente nunca veria uma ao lado da outra em qualquer outro contexto.
“Uma palavra que é normalmente associada à luz, ou às luzes fluorescentes em forma de tubo, combinada com uma palavra que descreve o movimento de uma criança para um adulto.
“Acho que a parte ‘Adolescent’ faz mais sentido, pois há temas relacionados a essa palavra nas letras, mas onde entra a parte ‘Fluorescente’?”
Dezenas de pessoas interagiram com a postagem e aproveitaram para deixar suas ideias. Um usuário sugeriu que o tom nostálgico poderia ser um indicativo de estar “adulto”.
Eles teorizaram: “É sobre uma mulher que, presumivelmente, está ‘crescida’ e lembra os bons momentos que passou quando period jovem.”
Outro concordou, escrevendo: “Concordo 100%. Mas ouvi dizer que ‘Adolescente Fluorescente’ também é um termo usado para descrever ‘uma criança que, através da superexposição à televisão, filmes e música, cresce muito rapidamente e sem substância’.
“Por volta dos 13 anos, eles acreditam que estão prontos para o sexo, o álcool e as drogas. Mais tarde, sentem remorso pela infância que perderam.”
Um terceiro propôs: “As coisas são monótonas para a protagonista da música, mas na adolescência eram brilhantes, daí ‘Fluorescente’.”
Alguns usuários indicaram que todas as interpretações da faixa contêm um elemento de verdade, com outro sugerindo que poderia haver um “duplo significado” tecido ao longo do single.
A co-autora da música, Johanna Bennett, ofereceu algumas dicas sobre as origens da faixa durante uma entrevista ao The Guardian em 2007.
Ela explicou: “Estávamos de férias e nos desligamos de tudo. Estávamos em um resort muito tranquilo e não assistíamos TV nem ouvíamos muita música.
“Para não enlouquecermos um ao outro, começamos a brincar com essas palavras como se fosse um jogo, cantando-as um para o outro. É ótimo pensar que veio de algo que fizemos para nos divertir nas férias.
“Será sempre uma boa lembrança para Alex e eu. Ele geralmente não escreve letras com outras pessoas, embora eu ache que ele gostou.”
Landlord Rachel Brown says she has been left “trapped” in the rental market.
After nearly two decades as a landlord, the 62-year-old had planned to sell up her final buy-to-let, retire and enjoy a more relaxed lifestyle.
Instead, a failed property sale forced her back into renting it out – and considering returning to work.
Her journey to life as a landlord began 18 years ago as a joint investment with her then-partner, building a four-property in Nuneaton and Barwell – three one-bedroom flats and one two-bedroom apartment, worth around £450,000 in total.
At its peak, her portfolio generated around £25,500 a year, but her relationship with her partner broke down in 2010. Though the pair continued as business partners, she says this was difficult.
Rachel, from Worcester, explained: “After about seven years, I approached my business partner to explore sale options as I no longer wanted to continue letting and managing the properties.
“With more expenses, rising taxes and constant legislative changes, I wanted to sell them and invest the money differently.”
She says that, by the time the costly legal processes to split the assets had been resolved in summer 2024, she had just one remaining property. By that point, she had already decided to exit the sector.
She added: “But then when the economic situation changed and the Renters’ Rights Bill was proposed, I was no longer wanting to continue as a landlord.”
The Renters’ Rights Act came into force on 1 May, introducing sweeping reforms to the private rented sector.
The legislation abolishes so-called “no-fault” evictions, moves tenants onto periodic tenancies with greater security and brings in stricter rules around possession, rent increases and property standards – significantly reducing landlords’ flexibility when managing and selling their properties.
Rachel’s attempt to sell her final flat in Nuneaton in 2025 appeared straightforward at first – but quickly unravelled.
She encountered some issues with the ground rent on the property, and then the collapsed when the buyer’s chain fell through – leaving her with a costly empty property.
She says her tenant had left when she put the property on the market, and having it empty cost her roughly £750 each month.
After five months of losses, she had little choice but to re-let the property, despite wanting to leave the sector entirely.
The financial hit has forced a major rethink of her retirement. Having stepped back from work at 58, taking early retirement, she is now preparing to rebuild her finances.
She said: “I am now living with family and looking to go back to work whilst I build my finances back up. This situation has been stressful. We have no been able to do the things we had planned.”
The recent policy changes have also made exiting the market more complicated.
She continued: “It’s no longer as simple as serving notice and being sure I can get the property back in order to sell. As a small landlord, that loss of flexibility and speed is a big downside. For someone like me, buy-to-let doesn’t feel like the relatively simple, passive investment it once was.”
Experts say landlords will small numbers of properties are considering similar moves.
Edward Heaton, founder of national buying agent, Heaton & Partners, said: “It is the accidental landlords, such as those who inherit a property or have a surplus home after meeting a new partner, who are much more likely to be exiting as landlords. They, along with those who may only own one or two properties, are tending to either sell their properties or switch to an alternative, such as holiday lettings.”
Now, Rachel says she is focused on regaining stability, even if that means delaying retirement indefinitely. She’s not sure what she would do for work yet, but is considering re-entering the job market.
She said: “I really feel tired of battling through the last few years, and I just want to get to a more stress-free place.
“I haven’t yet started work as this is all still incredibly fresh, but my financial situation is entirely different now to what it was even after I had left work to retire and was relying solely on my pension and small rental income.”
O capitão do Manchester United, Bruno Fernandes, falou sobre sua decisão de permanecer em Outdated Trafford no verão passado, dizendo que não acha que conseguiria replicar a sensação de ter sucesso em “qualquer outro clube do mundo”.
O jogador de 31 anos recusou uma transferência para a Arábia Saudita no verão passado em favor de permanecer no United. Em dezembro, Fernandes admitiu que poderia ter saído, mas a Sky Sports activities Information informou que não havia vontade de vender o United e que ele continua fazendo parte dos planos de longo prazo do clube.
Numa conversa exclusiva com a lenda do United e comentarista da Sky Sports activities Gary Neville, o meio-campista português explicou por que o sucesso no United significaria mais do que em qualquer outro lugar.
Domingo, 3 de maio, 14h
Início às 15h30
“Não é uma questão de lealdade”, disse Fernandes.
“Eu poderia ter ido há dois anos, poderia ter ido há três anos, poderia ter ido na temporada passada, mas gosto muito de estar aqui.
“Acho que ter sucesso neste clube é algo que nunca poderei conseguir em outro clube. A alegria e tudo o que recebo, no dia em que conseguir o que quero deste clube, não acho que conseguirei isso de nenhum outro clube do mundo.
“Sei o quanto os torcedores querem isso, sei o quão apaixonados eles são. Sei o quanto estão esperando a volta do clube.
“Sim, ganhei a Carabao Cup e a FA Cup [but] o que este clube quer, o que esses torcedores querem e o que eu quero, eu e o time, ainda não temos isso. Até meu contrato expirar, vou tentar.”
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Veja todas as quatro assistências de Bruno Fernandes para Benjamin Sesko na Premier League nesta temporada até agora
O United terminou em 15º lugar na Premier League na temporada passada, um recorde de baixa para o clube antes de perder a remaining da Liga Europa, garantindo uma temporada sem futebol europeu em Outdated Trafford. No entanto, apesar das dificuldades, Fernandes acrescentou que a sua decisão de permanecer se baseou nos assuntos pendentes que tinha no clube.
“O clube estava num momento difícil porque acabamos de perder uma remaining europeia, [and] terminamos o pior na Premier League que o United já conseguiu”, disse Fernandes a Neville.
“Há seis anos, o clube confiou em mim para vir para cá e acreditou que eu poderia ajudar o clube. [the fact that] Não realizei meus sonhos aqui.
“Não consegui tudo o que queria. Nunca escondi que quero ganhar a Premier League e a Liga dos Campeões com o clube. Posso conseguir, talvez não. Mas até ter oportunidade ou até estar aqui para fazer isso, vou tentar.
“Vai ser difícil? Sim. Existem clubes de ponta na liga que vencem a liga há tantos anos e estão lá de forma consistente, e nós não.”
Assista Man Utd x Liverpool na Sky Sports activities Premier League a partir das 14h30 de domingo; início às 15h30.
The Gurnard’s Head, Zennor – good for food and quiet coves
The Gurnard’s Head is on a remote corner of the coast
Equidistant from St Ives and Penzance, this acclaimed coaching inn puts you within easy reach of granite cliff-backed coves washed by turquoise water, Bronze Age standing stones such as Men a Tol, Chysauster Ancient Village, the South West Coast Path and ruined tin mines.
Unmistakable with its sunflower yellow exterior, the pub takes its name from the nearby headland and is geared towards a local crowd while welcoming visitors in its homely rooms which have either sea or moor views.
The work of local artists hang on the walls and food, drink and flowers are all locally sourced, while bedrooms come with Welsh blankets and Roberts radios, as well as camp beds for children.
Expect plenty of seafood on the menu – from crab sandwiches and mussels to red gurnard and wild bass – as well as seasonal vegetables, and a small children’s menu. The farmhouse-style breakfast of Cornish yoghurt, local eggs, fresh juices, grilled kippers and crispy pastries is a treat.
Doubles from £255 B&B in August, plus £40 for children over eight years.
Tregenna Castle Resort, St Ives – good for car-free breaks and outdoor activities
The historic castle is surrounded by acres of gardens (Photo: Tracey Warbey)
Between Carbis Bay and St Ives station on the scenic St Ives Bay branch line from St Just, this crenellated hotel sits in manicured grounds high above busy St Ives.
The 18th-century granite castle was leased as a railway hotel by Great Western Railway when the St Ives branch line was built at the end of the 19th century. More recently, it hosted former President Joe Biden and his entourage during the G7 Summit in nearby Carbis Bay in 2021.
Despite the illustrious history, it’s a laid-back base for an active Cornish break. The 72-acre estate encompasses subtropical gardens, a woodland walk, garden topiary, a golf course, outdoor pool, playground and tennis courts, with the beaches and galleries of St Ives within half an hour’s walk.
There are family rooms with sofa or bunk beds, some of which sleep up to six, as well as self-catering cottages, lodges and dog-friendly rooms. And when the weather turns, there’s also an indoor pool, and plenty of free activities during school holidays such as arts and crafts.
Family rooms from £174 in August. Accessible rooms available.
The St Agnes Hotel, St Agnes – good for history and village life
The ruined engine house of Wheal Coates tin mine on the St Agnes Heritage Coast (Photo: Guido Cozzi/Atlantide Phototrave/Getty)
“The Aggie” is a 17th-century inn that was upgraded when the railway arrived to service the tin mining industry at the turn of the 20th century and is now a lively village hub updated with warm, homely rooms.
The pub serves St Austell beers and has a summer pizza shack, bolstering its homely pub grub menu of local produce – fish from St Ives, crab from Newlyn, bread from Indian Queens and ice cream from nearby Callestick Farm. Next door, the St Agnes Bakery has been dishing out Cornish pasties and giant sausage rolls for more than a century.
Rooms match the homely style and are simple and comfortable, with deep mattresses and bright colours. Bolster has a king size and twin beds, sleeping up to four.
Surfers’ favourite Trevaunance Cove on the St Agnes Heritage Coast is around 15 minutes’ walk, the National Trust Chapel Porth beach around 40 minutes on foot while all around are remnants of the county’s mining heritage, including the iconic ruins of Wheal Coates.
Rooms sleeping four from £180 in August. Dog friendly rooms available.
SeaSpace, Newquay – good for flexibility and active families
A large sea-view studio with kitchen, living and dining area (Photo: Nomadiqa – Maciej Zalewski/SeaSpace)
From the team behind nearby Watergate Bay, this new addition to the outskirts of Newquay is a refreshing update to the apart-hotel concept, marrying the convenience of self-catering with lifestyle and leisure facilities. There’s a southern Italian feel to the bright and breezy rooms and public spaces, and plenty to keep you busy beyond, with Porth beach on the doorstep and surf breaks all around.
On arrival, your eyes are immediately drawn to the big, clementine-coloured pool and hot tub behind the reception-cum-shop (the hotel’s app tells you how busy the pool is if you’re wondering when to pop down from your room), beyond which there’s a playroom with books, table football, a Lego table and darts, and a complimentary laundry room.
Active families will love the shiny new Padel centre, maze and adventure playground, plus the health centre with gym and studio, and places in which to stash surfboards and bikes. The hotel works with Wavehunters surf school in Watergate Bay, which you can walk to along the South West Coast Path. There are also plans to introduce a contrast therapy area with sauna and plunge pools.
The cafe is busy from breakfast until teatime serving excellent brunchy dishes and Cornish cream teas, and restaurant Tallo takes over in the evening with an Italian-American menu of cicchetti, pizza, pasta and cocktails.
Rooms also have high-spec kitchens and living-dining areas, some of which are separate from the bedroom, while those with bunk rooms sleep up to three children for bigger families.
Studios from £373 in August, room only. Accessible and dog-friendly rooms available.
The Headland Hotel, Newquay – good for fancy frills
Bunk beds in an ocean view family suite (Photo: Rob James)
This distinctive landmark, perched on Towan Head between Newquay’s Towan and Fistral beaches, was the Hotel Excelsior in the 1990 film adaptation of Roald Dahl’s “The Witches”.
Built at the turn of last century in lavish style with terracotta columns and tennis courts, it hosted the future Kings Edward VIII and George VI while they recuperated from measles in 1911 before becoming an RAF hospital during the Second World War.
In recent years it has been significantly updated, notably with Adam Handling’s restaurant Ugly Butterfly 2.0 and an extensive spa.
Some family rooms are decorated with wallpaper inspired by archives from Castle Howard in York, others have bespoke bunkbeds, and there is also a collection of self-catering cottages.
All guests have access to the pools, including a splash pool, and activities can be arranged from surf lessons on Fistral beach to Segway tours and boat trips.
Family rooms from £315 B&B in May half term. Accessible and dog-friendly rooms available.
The Esplanade Hotel, Newquay – good for value
There are plenty of activities included in room rates at The Esplanade
At the other end of Fistral beach, near the Gannel estuary, The Esplanade is focused on keeping guests busy. In school holidays that means free daily activities, from biscuit decorating and pizza making to crafts, painting and film screenings in the cinema room.
There’s also an indoor pool, games room, outdoor play area and an onsite surf school, and when the day is done, the Cove restaurant serves a pubby menu of crowd-pleasers.
The unfussy family rooms can sleep up to six, some with balconies overlooking the outdoor play area, while others are dog friendly.
Family rooms from £333 in August. Dog friendly rooms and one accessible room available.
Bedruthan Hotel & Spa, Mawgan Porth – good for food, views and wellness
One of Bedruthan’s bigger sea view bedrooms, overlooking Mawgan Porth
Owned by the same family for 65 years, the Bedruthan was built in the late Fifties in Californian mid-century style. It’s arranged terrace-like down the cliff above Mawgan Porth’s deep sandy bay, connected by passageways that speak to its formative years.
However, rooms are now contemporary and Scandi-inspired, with cork headboards, clean lines and warm colours and many have epic views of Mawgan Porth below.
The spa has an indoor pool and thermal area, as well as a sensory spa garden with sauna, plunge pools and hot tubs set among wildflowers, herbs and tall grasses.
The family-oriented activities are where this hotel excels – there’s a sensory undersea playroom, creche for under-fives, soft play and craft sessions, as well as a programme of school holiday activities.
The food is good too – there’s the breezy, sea-view, all-day Wild Cafe and bakery for seasonal salads, pasta, fish and grills, and the more refined Ogo seafood restaurant further down the cliff.
Family rooms from £335 B&B in August. Accessible and dog friendly rooms available.
St Moritz, Polzeath – good for location, facilities, flexibility and value
The hotel is close to the Camel Estuary (Photo: David Loftus)
The St Moritz is all icing-white Art Deco elegance, built in 2008 on the site of Thirties hotel of the same name by Steve Ridgway, former CEO of Virgin Atlantic and Visit Britain, and his brother Hugh.
erched between Polzeath and Rock, it faces Greenaway beach on which you can feast your eyes from the balconies of the higher rooms and apartments. Only accessible by the South West Coast Path, this is a big sweep of golden sand at the end of the Camel Estuary where you are almost guaranteed tranquillity on high summer days – it almost feels like the hotel’s private beach.
The liner-style hotel hugs lawns and gardens with an outdoor pool on one side, and a £2m spa complex, restaurant and bar on the other, where you’ll find the only Cowshed Spa outside Soho House properties (the treatments are deeply soothing).
There are hotel rooms with bunk beds, suites with private gardens and kitchens, as well as standalone self-catering houses and apartments (there’s a great deli a couple of minutes’ walk up the road for local supplies). All are done out in white and coastal colours, with coffee table books leaning into the seaside theme.
The spa has a large indoor pool, saunas, steam room and outdoor hydro pool, as well as a gym, while the restaurant serves excellent local produce, such as freshly caught hake with Mediterranean chickpeas and woodfired pizzas.
A free shuttle is available on demand for trips to Polzeath and Rock, so you don’t have to worry about traffic and parking on busy days, and a passenger ferry shuttles across the Camel Estuary from Rock to Padstow. Follow the South West Coast Path to Port Isaac (three hours), or grab the free-to-borrow crabbing nets and beach toys from reception for a day out on the sand of Polzeath beach. Sundowners at Surfside, with live music on the sand, is a great way to end the day with a rum cocktail or cold beer.
August doubles from £205 B&B. Accessible and dog friendly rooms available.
The Wellington, Boscastle – good for Cornish lore and value
A newly refurbished bedroom in the pub building
Cornish villages don’t come much more atmospheric than in Boscastle. Authors and artists, such as Thomas Hardy, have been drawn by its rugged beauty and aura of mystery. Tumbling down the narrow Valency valley into a picturesque harbour, its limekiln, time-worn buildings speak of its long history as a fishing port and the resident witches who are said to have “sold wind” to departing sailors.
The hub of the village’s lower level is the grand Wellington pub, where a sobering marker in the first floor dining room wall displays the devastation of the floods that wrecked Boscastle in 2004. Local tradespeople poured their heart and soul into restoring the pub, and today it’s part of the St Austell brewery empire, with its period features resplendent once again and smart bedrooms offering all the style of a boutique hotel, without the price tag.
Some say certain bedrooms of the 16th-century pub are haunted (take a look at the centuries-old visitors’ book for inspiration), but the self-catering rooms in the adjacent watermill offer both calm and great value, with kitchens and comfy bedrooms and the benefit of a cooked pub breakfast in the morning.
The cosy and welcoming pub serves St Austell ales and good food including local fish, and it offers easy access to Tintagel Castle down the road, as well as Boscastle’s Museum of Witchcraft and Magic on the riverside harbour, beyond which the Atlantic churns.
Self-catering apartments sleeping four start at £153 in August. Dog friendly rooms available.
A Nvidia pode estar se preparando para trazer de volta uma placa gráfica mais antiga – a GeForce RTX 3060 – enquanto a indústria de jogos enfrenta pressão crescente devido à escassez international de memória (VRAM). De acordo com vazamentos recentes e relatórios da cadeia de suprimentosa produção do RTX 3060 12GB pode ser reiniciada já em junho de 2026, com potencial retorno no varejo em julho.
GPU antiga, nova relevância
O RTX 3060 foi lançado originalmente em 2021 e descontinuado em 2024. No entanto, novos relatórios sugerem que a Nvidia pode reintroduzi-lo para preencher uma lacuna em sua linha atual. Espera-se que parceiros do conselho como Asus, MSI e outros recebam novas alocações de chips em breve, indicando que a produção poderá aumentar rapidamente.
NvidiaRemover respingo
A principal razão por trás dessa mudança parece ser a contínua escassez de VRAM. As GPUs mais recentes contam com tipos de memória avançados como GDDR7, que atualmente são limitados. Por outro lado, o RTX 3060 usa memória GDDR6 mais antiga e processo de 8nm da Samsung, tornando-o mais fácil e barato de produzir sem competir por capacidade de fabricação mais recente.
Por que VRAM se tornou repentinamente um grande negócio
Os jogos modernos estão cada vez mais exigentes no que diz respeito à memória. Muitas GPUs de gama média mais recentes ainda vêm com VRAM de 8 GB, o que está começando a mostrar limitações em títulos mais recentes, especialmente em configurações mais altas.
A RTX 3060, apesar de mais antiga, vem com 12GB de VRAM. Isso lhe dá uma vantagem sobre algumas placas básicas mais recentes, tornando-o mais capaz para cargas de trabalho de jogos modernos.
Ao mesmo tempo, a Nvidia está supostamente priorizando a produção de GPUs de IA de alta margem, o que limita ainda mais a disponibilidade de {hardware} para jogos. Isto contribuiu para o aumento dos preços e a redução da oferta no mercado.
O que isso significa para os jogadores
Para os jogadores, o retorno do RTX 3060 pode ser uma mistura. Por um lado, pode ajudar a estabilizar o fornecimento e oferecer uma GPU com VRAM mais alta a um preço relativamente acessível. Isto é especialmente relevante para jogadores com orçamento limitado que estão lutando para encontrar {hardware} capaz em meio ao aumento dos custos.
Nvidia
Por outro lado, a placa ainda é baseada em arquitetura mais antiga. Faltam recursos mais recentes encontrados em GPUs recentes, como traçado de raio aprimorado e tecnologias avançadas de renderização baseadas em IA. Em termos de desempenho, pode não corresponder às opções mais recentes, mesmo que funcione melhor em cenários com muita memória.
O que acontece a seguir
A Nvidia ainda não confirmou oficialmente o relançamento e as informações atuais são baseadas em vazamentos e relatórios da indústria. No entanto, se a produção for retomada em junho, a disponibilidade no varejo poderá ocorrer brand depois.
A mudança também pode sinalizar uma mudança mais ampla no mercado de GPU. Em vez de se concentrarem apenas em novos lançamentos, as empresas poderão revisitar cada vez mais {hardware} mais antigo para resolver as restrições de fornecimento.
Por enquanto, o retorno potencial do RTX 3060 destaca um problema maior: em 2026, ter mais VRAM pode ser mais importante do que ter a GPU mais recente.
Brigid was 12 years old when she was sent to a Magdalene Laundry. Her hair was cut off, she was renamed “Peter”, and she was so lonely she’d go to the toilet at night just to listen to a dog barking out of the window… until one of the nuns cottoned on and nailed it shut.
It was 1948, and Brigid would still be at the Good Shepherd Laundry when it – and all the remaining others – closed at last in 1996. By then it was the only life she’d known. So she moved next door, to an apartment run by the same nuns, and kept her radio on all hours of the day, tuned to a station that played endless Mass on loop.
Her sin, the one that condemned her to a lifetime of detention and institutionalised her so deeply that even when she was free she did not feel fit to do anything else? Truancy. Her local priest thought that skipping school was a sign of “a deeper, inherited moral malaise”.
Many of us are aware, with great horror, of the Magdalene Laundries: secretive Catholic institutions that imprisoned tens of thousands of “fallen” women, most aggressively after Irish independence in 1922.
They were a part of ordinary Irish life: not hidden, as familiar in a town as the butcher, post office, the pub. But the women inside were not part of Irish life at all. They were not to be looked at, not to be spoken to, certainly not to be spoken of, by the families they left behind.
Girls as young as nine and women as old as 89 were locked up, forgotten, and forced into violent, relentless slave labour washing clothes, enduring Ireland’s stench and dirt. It took more than 70 years for them to close, even longer for the survivors to receive a formal apology in 2013, and it will take even longer for the shame of it to disappear.
The Fallen, a new book by the Irish academic Louise Brangan, is a devastating read. It is a testament to survivors and victims of the Magdalene Laundries that takes us so closely into the memories and traumas of these abandoned women that you feel you can smell the urine on the sheets. It points out that the laundries and their purpose have been fundamentally, dangerously, misunderstood. In collective memory, we have mixed them together with the equally abhorrent Mother and Baby homes as part of some grim, punitive past that robbed women of their human rights.
If the Magdalene Laundries were penitentiaries for wayward women, it would be bad enough. In fact, they were a means of systematic mass incarceration, driven not by desire to reform and rehabilitate, but to forcefully remove from society.
No babies were born in a Magdalene Laundry, and most of their victims did not have to do anything as extreme as get pregnant to end up in one. As a totalitarian Catholicism took over the nascent independent nation of Ireland, the pursuit of utopian, devotional perfection became a national obsession. Anyone that strayed from that picture was a stain to be erased. The nation grew insular and intolerant, closed to foreign ideas or cultures, and obedient silence became good, respectable manners.
In this climate of “heresyphobia”, a “fallen woman” did not need to have committed any outright sin. That description encompassed something much wider and could be twisted and manipulated as anyone seeking to control her saw fit. As one priest said, the fallen woman was “lustful, indulgent, had foreign tastes, was unbridled by the demands of family; she lacked moral fibre”. Even “women on the verge of being wrecked in the whirlpool of the busy world” were a risk. The more descriptions of fallen women I read, the fewer women I could think of who wouldn’t qualify.
Brangan’s book forensically charts the history of the laundries through the stories of several women and the bleak reasons they got there. Some were sent by a local priest, some went after leaving an “industrial school” or Mother and Baby home, some were inconvenient members of their families, some misbehaved at school, some were too spirited, some were born to an illegitimate mother. Some were picked up by Catholic fanatics “roving the city’s streets in search of women and girls in imminent moral danger”. No matter their age, their story, where in Ireland they were sent or how long they stayed, each of them spoke of the same worthlessness, the same brutality, the same shame.
When a girl arrived at a Magdalene Laundry, she usually did not at first realise she was in one. Her clothes, hair and name would be removed, she would be taken to a group dormitory, and rather than introduced to young girls like her, she would be faced with silent, older women who barely looked up. One girl, on encountering aged and infirm women rocking back and forth, wondered: “Am I going to be looking after these old people?”
But soon she would understand that she was destined to become one herself. This was, Brangan writes, “something between a conversion camp and a gulag”, with a deliberate environment of “ever-present, ambient fear”. Women slept in mass dormitories with barred windows, were fed porridge, toast and gristly stew, and a weekly dose of Epsom salts as laxatives to help pass the stodge.
There were no clocks – the days passed, divided by work and prayer. One woman spoke of using scrunched-up newspaper for loo roll. They washed every other Sunday, the bathwater changed only after 10 women had used it. Meanwhile, the work in the laundry was vicious, scrubbing “soiled underwear, sticky hankies, or the butcher’s aprons with hard, clotted stains” using burning, industrial bleach and terrifying machinery that when broken, would not be fixed – instead the nuns would say a prayer. Some girls lost hands and arms.
Punishment for any infraction was just as inhumane: one woman remembers a girl forced to eat her dinner from a bowl on the floor, like a dog. The enduring psychological torture was even worse. “Each of the women was made to feel a deep indignity for having existed, for having brought ignominy on the world around her with her illegitimate presence,” Brangan writes. Nuns would remind them that they were fat, filthy, unwanted, worthless, that nobody was coming for them. Usually, nobody did. During this period, Brangan points out, men would often serve fewer than seven years in prison for murder, and Ireland was considered to have one of the most humane prison systems in the English-speaking world.
The laundries used terrifying machinery that when broken, would not be fixed – girls would lose limbs trying to operate it
Of all the horrors, what stands out is the loneliness. No talking, no playing. Friendships were forbidden, girls were not permitted to speak of their past lives, names or families. Meals were eaten in silence, at tables facing in the same direction so no girls could so much as catch each other’s eye.
In a society with such an oppressive culture of obedience, most girls had not been raised with the language to critique or question. So they submitted. Became zombies. Watched those around them grow old and die there, knowing it might one day be them, “compounding their terror”. They were, Brangan writes, “bleaching and compressing their personalities as well as the sheets”. On the outside, nobody asked after them. “Ordinary people learned not to ask about those girls, never to mention their names, let alone grieve their absence.”
When women did die in the laundries, it would be with no ceremony. Brangan reports burials in unmarked, mass graves, with inconsistent records of just how many bodies were in there. Some women would try to escape, only to be rounded up and returned, and forced to wear their underwear and a sheet as a cape, their hair cut even shorter.
Life for those who were freed, or left as the Church loosened its grip on Ireland, was not a liberation. Survivors were left struggling for work with limited life skills. “All I needed was someone just to push me because my life would have turned in a different direction,” says one survivor, Betty. Some found it so hard in the real world that they returned to the nuns. Some believed the nuns had become family. Many of those who didn’t faced a lifetime of poor health and poverty.
Meanwhile, the psychological trauma continued to punish them. Brangan writes of women left believing what they’d been told – “you are nobody” – and with a permanent fear that something, at any moment, could go wrong. They felt unable to love or be loved, unable to shake the stigma, unable to speak of their abuse even to their husbands and children, and encouraged to leave matters well alone by a culture that deemed talk of such things unseemly and impolite.
Ireland, the “nation of a thousand welcomes, of storytellers, a classless society of good craic and good times”, still turned away from these women, who had their life chances stolen despite never having done anything wrong.
The Fallen is one of the most gruesome books I have read in a very long time. On every page is the visceral dread of “that door locking behind you and you were never, never, never to walk out that door again”. It is an account of a near century of unfathomable cruelty, the threat of populist ideology, and the danger of silence and compliance, all made more astounding for its recency. No apology for these women will be enough.
I hope, at least, that they are at last in no doubt that the shame of the Magdalene Laundries was never theirs.
At some point in the later part of the 20th century, I had a colossal crush on the writer Will Self. I wasn’t the only one; on one memorable day, three friends phoned me to tell me that he was The One. I soon put them right, because I’m an empath; “Well, dear, he may be The One, but you’re One of The Three – and that’s just today. Toodles!”
He didn’t fancy me back but this only made me more keen; it got to the point where I’d call his answerphone from my bedroom when he was sitting in my front room holding court, just to have his voice to myself. I’m revealing this rather cringey episode as I find it’s always best to employ complete candour in confessional writing; we’ve all had a gutful of those clowns who pretend to be telling all, but conveniently twist or omit facts so that they emerge from every situation looking like the poor helpless victim of monstrous regiments of unworthy friends, lovers and employers.
When I left London for Brighton in 1995 our friendship ceased, but I was nevertheless surprised to find him making an ineffable knob of himself in a ranting 2014 review of my book Unchosen. He wrote: “About 12 years ago I profiled Burchill […] I wrote then that she presented the bizarre spectacle of an intelligent woman who had spent her entire adult life making herself more stupid; this process has now reached its inevitable conclusion, and she has become to all intents and purposes moronic.”
I must say I had a good chuckle over that one, having seen Self capering moronically on TV panel shows quite a few times, a temptation which I have always mysteriously resisted. You could safely say that we regard each other with the kind of baffled revulsion one only feels for ex-friends and-lovers.
Anyway, I thought he’d gone a bit quiet and it turns out that, like me, he’s had what one of my doctors called A Bit Of Bad Luck: bone marrow cancer and blood cancer. I’m in a wheelchair; he finds it hard to walk, and he used to love walking long distances whereas I can’t say I ever did.
But while I have adapted quite cheerfully to my new situation – after the initial suicide attempt – he’s more ill-tempered than ever. I guess it’s that “Happiness Baseline” at work again; he was always a miserable bugger, whereas I’ve been a chirpy little sod ever since I got past the teenage angst thing.
In interviews with Substack and the Observer, Self bemoans the falling away of his friends. Some of this he attributes to his toxic divorce from the late journalist Deborah Orr – during which most people took her side – but some to illness. He seems to have changed his mind since a January interview with Publishers Weekly in which he boasted: “I don’t socialise with anyone anymore and haven’t for some time, but it’s fine, because the communication through the text is so pure, so brilliant. Who would want to do anything else but that?”
But by March he was complaining that when one becomes seriously ill, people are “f**king horrible. You would not believe how bad people are around serious illness.” A character in his new book says: “Once you’re in genuine need, you won’t see [your friends] for carpet fluff. Weakness attracts not Christians – but jackals.”
“I want people to behave properly – and I do behave properly,” he says now. “I believe people should help the other, not turn aside. I believe that people should not be greedy, and I’m not greedy.”
I don’t think it’s true that people turn away from seriously ill people. Look at the playwright Hanif Kureishi; tetraplegic and in a wheelchair since 2022, whose previously flinty heart has been touched by the array of people who have visited and supported him – not just his famous literary mates and associates, but an old schoolfriend who flew all the way from Canada to his hospital bedside.
I turn away more friends than I choose to see, for reasons that aren’t quite clear to me. Some of it has to do with not wanting to be an object of pity, and feeling that I’m dull. Just a few years ago, even though already in my sixties, I was yomping about like a good ‘un, rolling out of bed at 6am and pushing through another hangover to meet a deadline before going out to volunteer for three hours followed by yet another liquid lunch; now a big chunk of my time is spent fussing over my feet, cursing my catheter and waiting for healthcare professionals to come by and commiserate with me. It’s a full-time job being an invalid, which is a bitter irony when you consider that it’s approximately half a life.
Occasionally people I used to know a little will walk past me in the street, saying hello to my husband but not acknowledging me. It’s a bit of a shock, but with my new-found wisdom I understand that to see someone go from human to Halfling overnight can stir up scary feelings in some people about their own mortality.
I think that what Will Self hasn’t grasped (maybe his overweening vanity won’t let him; he said of his new novel: “I’m some kind of a crazy genius – I wrote it with cancer in 12 weeks”) is that when you’re young and sexy, you get away with a lot of bad behaviour because people want what you’ve got, be it commercially or carnally. When you’re old and sick, you need to get used to stepping down in the desirability hierarchy or you’re going to live your life as a crosspatch – and then people really will avoid you, so it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I made my peace with death when I came out of surgery unable to walk, but at 64, Self is still raving on about it as though it’s a new drug which he and he alone has got a handle on. You’d think knowledge of his own mortality would have brought him wisdom, but he’s acting like he’s the only person in the world who has ever had a brush with death, whereas by our age you expect your parents to have joined the majority, and even for a few of your friends to have kicked the bucket.
There’s a thought: what if one of these adorable friends I’ve been swerving dropped dead, and I’d never told them how much I still loved their company, and that my avoidance was totally about me, not them? That’s a mistake I don’t want to make – and I’ve made so many, on my way to becoming a Halfling.
So that’s my summer project: say “You bet!” rather than “Can I get back to you?” to those of my amigos offering to come all the way from That London to see me. I’m going to grab them and make much of them while I still have the strength – because who knows how many summers I have left?
For confidential support, Samaritans are available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Call for free on 116 123 or visit samaritans.org
