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REGULAR POST:

I lived in Florida with a girl named Patty R. We got along fine, and this was for a half a year after I left the Navy.

And she had this bird.We went to a store and bought that critter.

It was a Cockatiel and had a big orange spot on it’s chin, and it was the most social and affectionate bird that I have ever seen…

It would hang out with us. Play with us. Get out of its cage and hang out on our shoulders. It was a mighty social critter, and it was really cool. Like having a dog in a birds body.

Patty had to leave for a few months (going back up North) and it was just me and the bird for a while. We got close, and then Patty came back and had to sell the bird. Both Patty and the bird were heartbroken.

Guys, I’m a dog and cat guy, but this thing with birds is really new to me.

Anyways, I think that all animals are like this. All you need to do is get to know them.

And that is today’s story about the unique personalities that birds have and the potential for great friendships.

Today…

 

The Reason People In America Are In A Loneliness Crisis. It’s Time To Change Or Go Live Abroad.

America is fucked up.

What is the most satisfying passive-aggressive thing you have ever done to a really mean or rude person?

I needed a new car in 1987 when I was 41 and looked like a cute little girl with not a brain in her head. I took my boyfriend with me, thinking that they wouldn’t try to pull anything over on both of us. Boy, was I wrong! I liked the Nissan Maxima, so I went to a dealership about 30 minutes from home and was quoted a really good price, but decided I didn’t want to have to go that far for service. I went to a dealer about 15 minutes away, told them what I wanted to pay (I quoted the other guy) and the salesman agreed, but first routed me to the leasing office. After talking with them for a while I said NO I AM NOT LEASING. Went back to the salesman, repeated my original offer and asked if he really wanted to make a sale today. He hum=hawed for a bit, then sent me to “the closer” who had all the paperwork ready for me. I handed him my check for the down payment and then started signing papers. I got to the last one and the price was WRONG and the monthly payments were about $50 higher than I had agreed upon. I pointed out these discrepancies and he started a sales pitch trying to get me to agree to the higher rate, saying how happy I would be to see my new car in the driveway in the morning. The signed papers and my check were on the desk in front of him. I picked up the check and tore it into many pieces. I picked up the signed documents and shredded them. As I left, I said YES, I will be happy with my new car in the morning. We found a phone, I called the other salesman and asked if he could have my car ready for me tonight. By this time it was 9:30 on a Sunday night. He agreed to stay and sell me the car. So my friend drove me the 30 minutes, we met the salesman and signed the new docs without having to give him a check, and I was in my new car that night. The next day I called the guy who lost the sale and told him that the closer cost him his commission, then wrote a very specific letter to the manager of the losing dealership and warned him that if those were their tactics, they would not be in business next year – they were closed in 6 months!

What surprises Russians when they visit the United States?

Russian, living 2 years in small city in USA. So, what surprises me in real America:

1. Almost no public transit in most areas
2. Houses are made of wooden boards and drywall but still are not cheap (But mortgage is affordable)
3. Colleges and education process is very nice
4. Strangers are friendly, but some still can be rude (like at airport checkpoints)
5. Some areas are 100% safe to walk anytime, some areas just around the street are 100% unsafe to even drive thru.
6. Almost no dirt (does not apply to NYC)
7. Crazy taxes (filing, not rates)
8. Crazy medical insurance (rates too)
9. Parks are nice, museums are great
10. Most food is bad (but most restaurants are good)
11. High salaries but people live paycheck to paycheck
12. Internet is expensive and bad
13. Cheap things, expensive services
14. Great road system, especially interstate
15. Communities are great. Fundraises, volunteering, etc. People DO care.
16. You have to drive 15 minutes to a grocery store. Store is huge. HUGE.
17. And there you can buy ammo next to paper towels but not cigarettes

List will be all different if you are tourist in big city for a week.

P.S. I really have to add this:

18. Crazy measurements system

The Rise Of NEETs: America’s Unemployed Youth

Gorflautorillas (Phoenix Suns Gorilla’s Flautas)

These are great topped with guacamole and served with Spanish rice and beans.

Ingredients

Flautas

• 2 dozen corn tortillas
• Vegetable oil
• 5 cups Meat Filling

Meat Filling

• 5 cups cooked, shredded beef roast
• 1/2 cup chopped hot green chiles, peeled and seeded (fresh or canned)
• Salt, to taste
• Pepper, to taste
• Garlic powder, to taste

Instructions

Flautas

1. For each flauta, soften and heat 1 tortilla by dipping it into 2 inches of hot oil. With tongs, hold in heated oil several seconds, or until soft enough to roll.
2. Spoon 3 to 4 tablespoons warm Meat Filling across center of soft tortilla; roll it.
3. Arrange in casserole.
4. Cover dish and place in 250 degrees F oven to keep warm until ready to serve.

Meat Filling

1. Mix beef, onion and chiles in saucepan and simmer, adding a little water for moisture but not enough to make a sauce.
2. Season with salt, pepper and garlic powder.
3. Keep warm.

Shorpy

Don’t Blink or We’re All Gone

Submitted into Contest #207 in response to: A journalist has been granted permission to visit the premises of a lab carrying out top-secret work. They could never have anticipated what they’d find…… view prompt

John-Paul Cote

BIG IDEAZ

16 February 2032

YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH. I CAN’T.

It is the most secret, most secure facility in the world–it’s thousands of feet under New York City. And the research being done will make us all question our very place in the universe.

=========================

Sindy Chen

Staff Reporter, Big IdeaZ

 

My life will never be the same. The burden of the secret I know has made me question the meaning of existence itself.

 

Out of millions of journalists, I am the one that Project Starlight asks to come for a visit.

 

Project Starlight. I’ve never heard of it and likely you haven’t either. You will find no mention of it in any government documents or reports. You will find no mention of it on social media. You will never find it mentioned in the darkest reaches of the internet. No conspiracy theories. Nothing. This is truly incredible because Project Starlight is working on the most important finding of all time.

 

I exaggerate not. There is no embellishment in what I am saying. We depend on the devotion of these scientists to maintain reality as we know it.

 

The elevator ride takes thirty minutes to reach our destination. I wish they had warned me before we started because I need to use the bathroom by the time we reach the bottom. My escort is silent all the way down, refusing to acknowledge me, never mind answering questions. The doors open to reveal a huge concrete area. It looks like a factory floor with machinery and equipment buzzing around. And behind all the action is a set of three massive steel doors. They are easily thirty feet high. Behind them is the universe’s greatest secret, I have been told.

 

We approach the guard post, controlling the doors. My escort and I hand over our security cards and asked to place our faces in an oval mold. I’m told not to move for my retina scan, and they sampled my DNA from my breath to confirm who I am. The guard nods that we cleared.

 

With that, a voice comes over a loudspeaker telling everyone to stand back as the doors rotate open. They are at least twenty feet thick with cylinders that interlock them. There is no force in the world that could make those doors move unless they want to.

 

I am met by an old friend. Dr. Brandon Hawkins and I met at Brown University. I was studying journalism while he was in Theoretical Physics. He smiles, says how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other, and gives me a big hug. I ask him why I’m here. It’s obvious not to catch up on old times.

 

“I’ve invited you here to blow your mind,” he says.

 

Brandon waves off the escort and guides me through the doors. I am at a loss to describe what I see. As Brandon tells me, the glass corridor we are walking through is taking us through the middle of “The Machine”, which he says in a solemn and yet mocking tone. There are tubes, wires, lights, and who knows what else I can see. There is one tube that catches my eye. It contains a pulsing light that rushes along it. Brandon tells me it generates the field that protects us from the reality of our situation.

 

The reality of our situation? What does that even mean?

 

“I have invited you here to blow your mind.”

 

“It will all be clear in a few minutes,” he says. Despite the complexity of what they do down here, the explanation, he tells me, is simple enough but takes time to believe.

After an hour’s tour of the facility, Dr. Brandon and I reach the control room.

 

This is where it gets real.

 

Brandon introduces me to the research and technical team. They all look at me in awe, as if I am an extraterrestrial or perhaps a movie star. Out of the crowd, one woman approaches. Dr. Avery Moore.

 

“This is an incredible event, meeting you finally,” she says.

 

More and more, I feel this is not just a visit for me as more of the team members come forward and introduce themselves like they are meeting a rock star. I’m not sure how to take this.

 

This is when Brandon asks if I want a seat. They have something to tell me. I take the offered seat because it feels like I am about to be told God exists and here he is.

I wish that was what they tell me.

 

“Over thirty years ago, a group of researchers working at a lab in Los Alamos, New Mexico discovered a disturbing pattern,” Brandon started. “The world seemed to blink out of existence, then come back. No one was aware of this non-existence. And it happened regularly. The way they discovered it was with microscopic variables in their quantum measurements. Variables at the smallest levels they could observe at the time and, since then, observed even further down into the quantum realm.”

 

The crowd of scientists and technicians continues to stare at me in awe. I shift in the chair uncomfortably as the attention is beyond unnerving.

 

“What we have found since then is that the existence we believe in is a lie. Reality is a relative thing. It depends on one factor and one factor alone.”

 

Brandon stared into my eyes, telling me he was being honest and open about what was being said.

 

“That one factor is you.”

 

I don’t know how to respond. It sounds like the most ridiculous thing in the world.

 

“This planet, this galaxy, this universe, and everything in it did not exist until you were born.”

“This planet, this galaxy, this universe and everything in it did not exist until you were born.”

 

I check to see if I’m asleep or dreaming. I then check for exits. If everyone believes this, then they are the craziest group of people I have ever met. I have interviewed god-like dictators, world-ending cultists, and flat earthers. This beats them all.

 

“I know. It sounds insane. Beyond insane, but it is true. Before you, there was nothing. Before your first conscious moment, there was no existence. Now all of reality only exists when you are conscious. Every time you go to sleep, whether it’s grabbing a quick nap or a good night’s sleep, everything disappears. There is only you and a void until you wake up again and everything returns.”

 

Insanity, pure insanity.

 

“It’s all true. Our past, our present, every star, every planet, every particle exists because you do. Our work here is simple. We want to ensure that reality will continue to exist once you,” he pauses, looking for the right words, “pass on. Right now, once you are dead, we and everything for billions of light years in space and time will disappear forever.”

 

I blink. People seem to jump for a moment as if they believe what Brandon is telling me.

 

“Don’t worry, that pulsing light you saw when you came in, that’s a field that we have created that separates us from you. In here, we do not disappear when you lose consciousness for whatever reason. Our goal is to extend this field either indefinitely or collapse it around you. Until then, you could go out tonight, choke on a peanut, and it’s all over for everything from the quantum level on up to the universe.”

 

It’s then I notice the two large digital clocks running in the room. One is counting up and the other counting down.

 

“The one counting up is your current age. The one counting down is the estimated amount of time you have left in your life. That’s our deadline and we are so close to reaching our goal.”

 

How did this all happen? How can it be true? What about my mom? Didn’t she give birth to me? She must have existed before me.

 

“What we have unravelled so far is that you merely can into being. You were never born. That is, what we call, Permanent Transient Construct. At the moment of creation, your subconscious created a mother that gave you birth, a father that had sex with your mother, vocations or careers that they had, an extended family, people, nations, the world, the universe, and history to fill it all in. As you have grown older, your subconscious has created more of this PTC. The problem is that your conscious mind is maintaining this construct. Thus, when you go to sleep, it all stops because your conscious mind stops. We and everything else disappear and it creates a void. Not even nothing, an actual void where even nothing is not real. You wake up in the middle of the night and suddenly we are back. You fall back to sleep, and we are gone again. We do not notice this because your subconscious fills in the parts we need.”

 

If they have kept me in the dark this long, then why tell me about this now?

 

“Because the risk levels of your activities have increased significantly over the last year. The countdown clock has decreased. The meter we have measuring risk factors and the chances of you dying early has gone into the red. You have entered a kind of midlife crisis where you are questioning yourself and then challenging yourself to make you feel alive. We had little choice but to bring you here and tell you the truth.”

It was hours and maybe days that Brandon and his team show me the evidence. I refused to believe it until I finally did.

 

Everything exists because I do. Unlike what many people think, I am the centre of the universe. The centre of reality. Time, space, and the consciousness of trillions upon trillions of beings are all because of me. Every atom, every particle, all of it. It’s me.

 

This is a lot of pressure to put on someone who is only thirty-eight years old. It is taking time to adjust to my responsibility, but I am.

 

I don’t know how long I will be down here in Project Starlight. I have now agreed to stay safely confined so that you and everything else may be. Brandon and his team tell me they could be mere months away from finding the solution. Until then, I will stay here until the world is truly safe from me.

The Pattern Library

A collection of free, downloadable patterns for use in design projects. It’s a great resource for designers or anyone looking for unique patterns.

Patterns

Some examples of the content…

Does the Past Still Exist?

Ah. She’s on the verge of “getting it”.

What’s wrong with CEOs making large salaries, entertainers, and athletes do it all the time?

I don’t think anybody is actually against CEOs making “large” salaries, but in the US, they don’t just make large salaries, they make grotesquely large salaries, here is the problem…

Are CEOs in the US really that much better than any other country? NO.

What has happened to business in the US since the Reagan era is that publicly traded companies in the US have basically become one big grift. The board is filled with CEOs of other companies that then rubber stamp insane pay packages for each other, give each other ridiculous golden parachutes so that even if they tank the company, they have to be paid tens of millions of dollars just to leave.

The grift extends well beyond CEO pay. Since the regulations on stock buybacks was lifted, which was rightfully seen as stock price manipulation, companies have been free to juice their stock, instead of investing back into the company. You get $100m in profits, you buy stock back which then make the remaining shares more valuable and gets rewarded by WallStreet with more investment.

The ONLY thing that drives publicly traded companies in the US is stock price, which means they are de facto controlled by WallStreet. What WallStreet wants, the CEO delivers. WallStreet wants layoffs in order to keep profits at a certain level, so massive layoffs have become normal, not because a company is losing money or headed in the wrong direction, because they want to juice the numbers to make profits look artificially higher or losses artificially lower. This used to be rare, now it’s a tool in the CEO arsenal used with disturbing ease.

What you are seeing is someone elected by the board to run a company, who is then given a HUGE amount of money for doing so, then is told to make their paymasters on WallStreet pleased, which doesn’t give two shits about the health or longevity of the company, just this quarter’s profits. This is what they do, which in case you weren’t sure, the things you do to juice stock price and artificially inflate profits are often diametrically opposed to good health and longevity of a company. This means having at best indifferent and often hostile attitude towards employees, it means cutting costs at ever level, which often results in an inferior product, it means screwing over your loyal customers because it’s temporarily more profitable to do so.

You want to know why things aren’t made as well as they used to be or why companies don’t have the same level of customer service as they once did or why employers don’t give out a golden watch to long term employees? It’s because all they care about is stock price. They don’t care if you give 30 loyal years of service, they’ll lay you off without a second’s hesitation if it would mean having .001% improvement in profits or simply because WallStreet approved of the gesture and rewarded them by not selling off their shares.

That’s the problem with modern CEOs. They are part of one big grift. The people that control the way a company is run is not people with any long-term interest in that company. It’s some ass hats on WallStreet that want to have fun juicing the stock and will gladly sell tomorrow when things go South. The highly paid CEOs do as they are told and are handsomely rewarded. If they push things too far and the stock goes down, no worries, you can just get rid of the CEO by paying him tens of millions, pick another stooge, everyone feels good, stock price goes up and the grift just keeps on going.

Proof Positive

Submitted into Contest #207 in response to: A journalist has been granted permission to visit the premises of a lab carrying out top-secret work. They could never have anticipated what they’d find…… view prompt

John K Adams

Howard Marks drove onto the Sequentrix Industries’ lot. He’d successfully passed the security gate. The sun had dipped behind the mountain. It felt like he’d driven forever up endless winding roads. ‘Thank God for GPS.’The unassuming low-rise building built into the hillside was a former Buddhist monastery.He’d been called there but not informed of his purpose. He had lots of questions.Not sci-fi, Sequentrix was the most secure research lab in the world. Most didn’t know it existed. Fewer knew its purpose. Hardly anyone knew its location. Yet its government funding exceeded many better known labs. Sequentrix Industries’ administrators had deep connections to Washington D.C. purse strings and power brokers.Located outside of Denver, no one knew how far their network of tunnels penetrated the mountain. A huge dish antenna gathered transmissions from orbiting satellites and beyond.Knowledgeable people presumed Sequentrix Industries researched bioweapons, or worse. Of course, they had their fingers in that. Its research spanned the range of scientific inquiry from quantum physics and into the cosmos. They had money to do anything they wished.Being a world-class journalist, and feared by the powerful, Howard’s summons there surprised him. Research labs avoid publicity, especially Howard Marks’ brand. He knew how to dig for the truth and how to publicize it. This unsolicited invitation piqued his curiosity.Howard traveled wherever the story led. He uncovered frauds and investigated the veracity of ‘conspiracy theories.’ Known internationally, he exposed conmen, politicians, crooks and cult leaders. No one preying on the public felt safe under his scrutiny. His outstanding work had received many awards.Despite death threats he traveled alone. Body guards are cumbersome and draw attention. ‘Moving targets must move quickly.’ Always on the move, he called his suitcase home.Howard’s encyclopedic knowledge enabled him to shine a light where others didn’t dare. He shredded the veil spun by PR hacks and propagandists. His broad fan base sought his incisive and witty essays in print and on social media. He’d recently appeared for interviews on cable news.“My fans are my family,” said Howard in interviews. He kept his personal life private. His family and past had been erased. Rumors of a girlfriend always proved to be empty speculation.No one knew Howard’s spiritual views. Or that he had any. A famous skeptic, his unsentimental skewering of the powerful made most presume an atheistic bent. Someone seeing him in a church pew wouldn’t consider it evidence of faith. Rather, they’d anticipate his debunking some preacher’s wild-eyed prophesies. A clear-eyed champion of the truth, few considered Howard a seeker of divine guidance.His appointment being scheduled for the evening, Howard knew it wasn’t management’s call. The exterior lights came on as he walked across the nearly empty lot.‘What’s this about? Someone gone rogue?’On entering the lobby, Howard encountered a series of security checks. He got frisked, endured wands, and stood for a full body scan… the usual that any airline traveler puts up with, times twelve. He knew cameras watched every movement. How many spooks stared at how many monitors?He stifled a laugh thinking of those running this gauntlet on a daily basis. ‘Are the toilets monitored?’ He knew the restrooms were. ‘But the toilets? ‘Passing an inspection’ takes on new meaning.’Security personnel were not authorized to answer questions or make conversation. Cordial but impersonal, they efficiently moved each visitor to the next station. A smile or a human response could suggest compromised personnel. The cameras watched them too.He made a mental note. ‘Do story on security training standards and the people hired into this growing industry.’While passing through the final checkpoint, a man in a suit approached.“Hi. I’m Malcolm. I’ll guide your tour this evening.”They shook hands.Howard said, “I have an appointment – with Matthias?”

“Yes. We’ll get to him.”

Malcolm led Howard down a brightly lit, corridor and pointed at closed doors. He offered vague, but enthusiastic descriptions of what took place behind each.

Howard knew such delaying tactics well. He wanted Matthias or someone to explain his purpose there. But he kept his frustration in check. He’d found many great stories at the ends of similar rabbit holes.

He had no idea what to expect. Theoretical, or Astrophysics wasn’t a typically scandal ridden. ‘Too many fingers in the cookie jar? Happens all the time.’

Malcolm pushed the down button by the elevator door. He and Howard stepped in. Malcolm pushed the B-7 button and stepped out. The doors shut and the elevator descended.

Howard hoped this was a good thing.

When the door opened, a man in shirt sleeves entered the corridor. Howard saw a bank of super computers in the room behind him.

The man said, “I’m Matthias. Follow me.”

Howard stopped. “Wait. You’re not Matthias. You’re… Not you again. I told you we can’t work together. No more stories blowing up with my name on them.”

He turned to the elevator.

“Howard, wait. This will interest you.”

“Not if you’re involved.”

“It could change the world.”

Howard paused and nodded. He didn’t need to like those he worked with. As a rule, he expected to dislike them. His first priority was getting the story.

Matthias led Howard into the computer room.

Howard watched him. ‘Sometimes even bad pennies pay off. Follow the money.’

Matthias pointed and said, “This is the A-Omega-7 Triple Helix computer. It’s dedicated solely to my experiments. Take a look at our most recent results.”

He handed Howard several folders and pointed to a chair at a table. Opening each in turn, the abstracts were eye opening. Two papers analyzed deep space data reaching back to the Big Bang. The other paper’s topics were impenetrable.

Big Bang, entanglement, weak force, quark – Howard knew the words. But what they meant in context bewildered him – a fact he kept to himself.

“You want me to translate this into English?”

“As only you can.”

“I’m not a physicist. Find someone else.”

“You’re the best. And I owe you.”

Howard nodded and thought, ‘You do owe me. But that was long ago. And we were both victims of circumstance.’

Howard admitted to himself the research was over his head. Hoping for clarity, he scanned down to the abstracts’ conclusions.

After each, he looked up in wonderment. Matthias nodded and smiled.

Matthias said, “Each of these would have stunned Einstein. His work implied this but even he didn’t dream…”

“I’m not sure… You have fingerprints…?”

“Not only. If this were a paternity test, we have His DNA, so to speak, His signature on the birth cert and His address.”

Howard couldn’t hide his confusion.

“The upshot… we have proof.” Matthias raised his arms in triumph.

Howard spread the folders across the table. “But of what? What does this…?”

“God!”

“God?”

“Yes! The Creator. The Almighty. Maker of all things… proof He exists!”

Howard scanned the room in awe. He said, “But wait. You need proof? Isn’t it self-evident? Look around…”

Matthias didn’t listen. “Don’t you get it? When other sites replicate our findings, it will be irrefutable.”

“Yeah, but… well… Welcome to the party.”

“So, the reason I called you in – I need to leak this.”

Howard shook his head. “You can’t leak…”

“It’ll get more attention if people think the government is suppressing vital…”

“I cannot write about it, Matthias.”

“Why not? This is completely under wraps. I’m handing you the scoop of the millennium.”

“We’d lose credibility. It’s not news.”

“Even when the results get objectively confirmed?”

“Maybe especially then. You understand the implications?”

“Of course. You must release this. It will change the world.”

“It might end it.”

Now Matthias looked confused.

Howard sighed, “Look, let’s say you’re right about this earth-shattering news. Everyone will claim your work as their sacred scripture. Wars for possession will rage. They’d claim it points to their god.”

Matthias shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. No one owns this. It’s a matter of who belongs to God, not the other way around.”

“Sure. Right in principle. But we’re talking about humans here. People always create God in their own image. Reduce the sublime to the ridiculous. These documents would become idols to fight over.”

Matthias saw his point. He stepped back, sobbed and wiped his eyes.

Howard continued. “Once published, critics will claim a misplaced comma disproved your evidence. Thrown out because a zero should have been a one.”

“A typo is easily fixed. The results stand. Once vetted and replicated, people will unite around truth.”

“Believers will say ‘you cannot test God,’ or subject Him to proofs. Confining Him in a computer – an abomination… a fool’s game.”

Matthias opened the electrical panel. “My life’s work… Should I destroy it? Have I done something wrong?”

“Relax Matthias. Look. Some people see a magician pull a trick and won’t believe it’s sleight of hand. Others witness some historical event – like the moon landing – and can’t accept it really happened.”

“I called you in. You seek the truth.”

“Thank you for that. But the truth is out there. Everywhere. For everyone. Written in the stars.” He held up a folder. “These bits and bytes will neither convince a doubter nor confirm the believer. We’re throwing noodles, hoping something sticks.”

Matthias paced in frustration. “You think this is meaningless?”

“Of course not. But God doesn’t need our assistance. He needs the faithful. And their faith weighs more than proof.”

Matthias paused. He flipped through the reports.

“What if these discoveries bolstered people’s faith? This might knock some off the right side of the fence.”

Howard considered the question. Vague, unfocused spirituality was ascendant and deep belief had become an afterthought. ‘Thousands of denominations and no one goes to church.’

“You have a point, Matthias. Everyone’s hot to ‘follow the science’ these days. What if science points to, bows to God?”

“That would open some eyes. Hoped you’d see it my way.”

They nodded. Understanding settled in. Howard cleared the table. Matthias brought a legal pad and some pens.

“Coffee?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“I’ll make fresh.”

~

Not yet visible, the sun had brightened the sky by the time Howard left the facility and walked to his rental car.

They had a plan. Howard carried a thumb drive containing the essential reports and abstracts of Matthias’ profound discovery. Matthias trusted Howard to leak it at a time of his choosing. He needn’t wait for the results of other site’s vetting of the data.

Howard smiled. The truth has a way of coming to light.

NEET LIFE

Mexican Stuffed Peppers

Ingredients

• 4 Anaheim chiles
• 1 pound ground beef
• 1 envelope taco seasoning mix
• 1 package shredded cheese
• 1 can enchilada sauce
• 1 medium to large baking dish

Instructions

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Brown ground beef.
3. While beef is browning, cut the top off the Anaheim peppers. Slice down one side of each pepper. De-vein and de-seed chiles to flavor (The more you leave in, the hotter it is!)
4. Add taco seasoning to beef when properly brown and prepare based on directions on taco seasoning package.
5. Place pepper, sliced side up, in a medium to large pan for baking. Stuff each pepper with meat and cheese.
6. Cover all with enchilada sauce. Cover (or don’t – depends on who is cooking) dish and bake for 15 to 20 minutes.
7. Remove from oven and serve.

What is your worst experience in life?

My weight.

I realize that I’m not really overweight, in spite of what my BMI says.

But I’ve put on 5 kg since the end of med school, and I wish I hadn’t.

It’s not that I think that I’m unhealthy right now; it’s just that if I keep gaining 5 kg every 4 years, things are not going to be looking good in 20 years.

At the end of med school, I weighed about 85 kg. That had been a stable weight. But, during my intern year of residency, we had unlimited, free food at the hospital cafeteria. When you’re really stressed out, and you can have as much food as you want without paying for it, you’re going to eat a lot, if you’re like most people. I was like most people. I gained 3 kg within a year.

I was at that stable weight for a bit, then I saw myself steadily creep towards 90 kg. That’s where I was when I traveled to Europe last summer. It had been a long while since I had been in a place when huge supply of my favorite pastry, the lovely pain-aux-raisins.

So I ate, ate, and ate some more. By the time I came back, I weighed 92 kg.

I’m a physician. I don’t eat all that much. Most days, I have a peculiar form of intermittent fasting where I skip breakfast and either eat a very light lunch or skip it altogether. But I can’t control myself at dinner. Dinner has been my favorite meal for as long as I can remember. And it was my love of large dinners that first made me decide to eat much less at lunch time.

Once upon a time, I was so poor that there was only so much food I could afford. Most meals would consist of Ramen noodles, a chicken drumstick, and a hard-boiled egg. I’d do that twice a day, add some yogurt and cereal, and that would be my entire caloric intake for the day. It’s very hard to get fat on that.

But now, I have to deny myself things I can afford. I also have to deny myself large portions of things I’ve already bought. That last part is even harder. I tell myself that I need to eat it, lest it should go bad. That’s my excuse. I also tend to shop at Costco, where everything is supersized. I should probably cut their steak and salmon portions in half. But I don’t. And so, much as I try to limit my caloric intake, I find that it is all I can do to maintain my current weight.

Basically, it’s as though I feel that I’ve already sacrificed quite enough—thank you very much—and I’m not about to deprive myself of any more food, which is quite possibly my greatest joy in life.

And so, the struggle continues.

What’s a conspiracy theory you secretly believe might be true?

The entire high-end fine art market is one gigantic money laundering scheme.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate art. I’m an academically trained artist, I absolutely appreciate art. And I totally support paying for good art.

But there’s a difference between paying 2000 dollars for an oil painting book cover and paying 6.2 million dollars for a fucking banana duct-taped on the wall.

Yes, yes, I understand the value of fine art is entirely subjective. And isn’t that the perfect front for money laundering?

When I was in China, I heard of this story.

A government official had the power to select the construction company for lucrative infrastructure projects. In his home, he had a display case filled with beautiful jade antiques. One day, a CEO of a construction come visit the government official, and just so happened, the CEO saw this one jade pendant in the official’s antique collection, and he just had to have it. The government official was reluctant to part with his favorite collection, but eventually the CEO made him a cash offer he could not refuse. A few weeks later, the construction company won the infrastructure project.

It wasn’t a bribe, the pendant was a unique antique, priceless. The CEO was lucky to have it. It doesn’t matter none of the items in that display case is actual antiques, but does it matter? The value of the antique is subjective, after all.

That’s how high-end fine art market works. Some snooty “critics” and “curators” with a fine art degree decided this artwork worth 1 million dollars, because “artistic merit” or “unique” or “revolutionary” or “innovative” or “raw”… whatever. And people just pay 1 million dollars for it.

I have a fine art degree, and I think fine art is great. If you truly love it, you should pay for it. You would bring it home, hang it on the wall, and it would fill you with joy, delight your guests, and make you ponder about life. The artwork would be worth every penny you pay for it. That’s what art should be. That’s where its value should come from: its impact on an individual person and/or on our society.

But modern fine art market, those random artworks that sell for millions upon millions of dollars, changing hands from one anonymous buyer to another, being put on display for a few selected rich people, or being stored in some warehouse. People don’t see artworks as artworks. They see it as an “investment.” That’s not art about.

So this is not me shitting on studying, making, selling, and purchasing fine art; this is me shitting on the emperor’s new closet full of expensive, invisible garments.

The entire high-end fine art market is one big money laundering scheme.

How Living in America Became Impossible