I loved living in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.
It was awesome.
So cozy and rural.
It was this little quaint town and surrounded by pine forests.
Huge pine forests, by the way.
And when they were a flowering, the air was thick with pine. The sky had a yellow haze and was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.
And you know what?
Yeah, I discovered that I was allergic to all of the pine!
No kidding.
So I spent a few months sniffling and constantly rubbing my eyes.
But soon after I made that discovery, I was laid off, and forced to move to the swamps of Louisiana.
Beautiful. Truly.
Ah. The entire South of the United States is really nice.
Charming.
Oh, but I love the nature.
Don’t you know.
And while they were indeed “stinky” places, I wasn’t allergic to them.
Nope.
And so my life was free of the coughing and sneezing and watery eyes of an allergy.
That is, of course, until we went and visited Fiji.
Fiji.
Beautiful place.
Like this…
Well…yeah, we went there just as the flowers were blooming, and they were so delicious and fragrant.
And I was allergic to them all.
But it was so darn uncomfortable for me. I spent our entire time there in misery. It was nasty.
Some surprise huh?
But today, as far as I know, I’m not allergic to anything in China (so far).
Knock on wood. Heh Heh.
Today…
First Photo of Site Hit By Russian “Oreshnik” Missile – Complete devastation!
Back in November, Russia struck Ukraine with a single Intermediate Range Ballistic Missile, which they named “Oreshnik.” The missile had Multiple Independent Re-Entry Vehicles (MIRV) totaling six (6) warheads.
Video of the strike was widely circulated worldwide and it is utterly shocking:
Six separate batches of projectiles comes out of the sky so fast, no missile defense system on the planet could intercept them
What was most stunning about this strike is that the six warheads released multiple “Bomblets” before they impacted. That’s why there are six, separate “showers” of fire from the sky . . . the bomblets came down ahead of the warheads which carried them, and those bomblets and warheads were moving so fast, they generated enough heat to look like fire coming from the sky.
Ukraine was ruthless in their censorship of any photos or videos of the strike location. They arrested anyone trying to take pictures or videos, and seized any equipment that may have contained such images.
All that ends right now.
Partisans in Dnepropetrovsk released this photograph of a man standing at the bottom of a crater on the site where the Soviet-built Yuzhmash military plant formerly stood. It was the plant hit by Russia’s Oreshnik missile. ONE missile.
Russia’s hypersonic Oreshnik missile vaporized the surface structures and penetrated to a depth of several stories underground, destroying the tunnel complex beneath the plant.
The most stunning fact: The warheads and bomblets carried NO EXPLOSIVE CHARGES! ! ! ! What you see here, was done solely and exclusively by the kinetic energy of the hypersonic projectiles coming out of the sky.
The kinetic energy – the shear force of the weight of the projectiles – traveling at over 6,000 miles an hour at impact, utterly obliterated the factory. You can see for yourself, above! There’s nothing left.
Imagine if they loaded explosives into those missiles?
Worst of all, there is NO DEFENSE for such missiles. No anti-missile system anywhere on this planet can intercept them and no anti-missile system can stop them.
Why do fighter jets need drag parachutes when they land? Do they land at a higher speed than airliners?
Let us just compare the typical landing speeds;
Boeing 737: 155 knots for a normal configuration.
Mirage 2000: 150 knots for 15% fuel and normal configuration.
The configuration of an aircraft also determines its landing speed. Fuel left, payload, position of flaps, wind velocity and other factors affect the landing speed.
Now, the speeds are almost comparable for a fighter and an airliner unless in extreme cases like the MiG 21.
There are 4 main reasons a fighter needs a drag parachute:
- Runways in operational areas are usually shorter and the surface is rugged. To save the brakes from wear & tear, and to increase the life of tires.
- The weather conditions are generally hostile in operational bases. Too much heat or cold can affect the braking systems as well.
- Commercial airliners primarily have reverse thrusters to help them decelerate whereas fighter aircrafts do not.
Primarily you will see chutes being deployed in harsh conditions and on shorter runways.
China Sanctions US Again and False Flag South Korean Coup
What was incredibly expensive twenty years ago, and is completely worthless today?
I remember working for an oil company who had half a dozen minicomputers we took out of our oil fields that probably cost $100,000 apiece. They were 10 years old and we tried to give them to universities. They refused to accept them even if we paid them to take them.
I tried to explain it to management: It is Moore’s Law: The power of a computer is doubling every 18 months. The product cycle is about 3 years. After 3 years, the manufacturer brings out a new one that is four times as powerful, its replacement comes out after 6 years, and it is 16 times as powerful, and the next generation comes out after 9 years and it is 256 times as powerful. Your $100,000 computer is now worth 256 times less, or about $390. And, in fact, you can replace it with a $390 microcomputer.
However, the universities will not accept it because it takes up too much space, draws too much power for their buildings, needs extra air conditioning, and costs too much in electricity, so now it has a negative net worth. Our lab techs said they could use the mounting frames and the power supplies for their test rigs, but we might as well throw the rest of the equipment away.
In my first IT job I operated a multimillion dollar supercomputer that took up half a floor. It required two gas turbine generator units on the roof to power it and two massive air conditioners to cool it. Nowadays the average smart watch has more computing power and is more useful to have.
The 3 Year AI Reset: How To Get Ahead While Others Lose Their Jobs (Prepare Now) | Emad Mostaque
US is land of opportunities where hard work can lead one to become a millionaire. Unlike China the US attracts people worldwide as they believe it offers better earning prospects and many prefer countries in Middle East or Europe but not China why?
I am best qualified to answer this question
I have two sons
My elder son who goes by Karthik Bala loves the West because he can make money in those “free markets” and in his own words he would rather “lose his shirt” in a reckless calculated risk where he can make millions than to have a controlled system which is safe for the common man like China has
That is the lure of the USA and the Middle East
It’s perfect for those who want to be investment bankers and investors who want to handle money in tax havens
My younger son is in China because he wants to do unfettered research with excellent funding prospects where he has access to many peer publications coming out every day and new developments happening at frentic pace
He wants a safe country
He wants a non woke country
He wants a country where he doesn’t have to plead and wheedle a bunch of donors for research money and where the state cuts a cheque without a single question and hands over a five year bank guarantee for research funds rather than year on year meetings
So China is perfect for those who want to research and develop technology. It is the world’s fastest growing science and technology hub
They are both happy in their own ways
Exactly as those who migrate to West or East usually are
Only people like me who are stuck in India have to put up with the endless discussions on Waqf boards and Temples and Vedic supremacy day in and day out
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Why don’t most developed countries use technicals if they are so effective?
So you want a fast vehicle that carries 3–4 people, has off-road capability and is used for direct fire support? And you want it to actually be effective, rather than just a $30,000 coffin on wheels?
Lets run a simple thought experiment:
Why not add some armour plates and mine resistance so that it isn’t just a bungled toyota pickup truck with a clumsy .50 BMG machine gun? Most militaries would kill the thing and its crew quite easily with just small arms fire, not even RPGs. If you want to use it for patrols in conflict zones, why not make it ambush proof as well:
Result is an MRAP that costs $500,000. That is now 17 times the original cost.
Why not give it a more powerful gun that can fire explosive shells or even missiles out of its barrel? This would surely make it more lethal as fire support! The gun will have a very long range of several kilometres and we will need a specialized computer to guide the gunner.
We might have to change the chasis completely and make it much heavier to support the recoil of the big gun. To compensate for this without getting stuck in the mud, lets replace wheels with tracks to increase surface area and decrease pressure. To ensure mobility and speed, we need to change the engine completely and rework almost everything.
Our enemies would design something similar to counter ours, so we need even thicker armor and a set of optics/sensors. And of course, we need different protected compartments for ammo, engine, people plus blowout panels so the crew doesnt burn to death when the armour is penetrated by enemy warheads.
The result is…a main battle tank, starting at $10,660,000** for the most basic M1A1 Abrams. This is now 355 times the original cost of the machine gun on a toyota truck.
Well well well, seems like when your prioritise things like crew survivability, firepower and practical range, you will need additional features and cannot afford to cut cost. You get what you pay for. Now the question we should ask is: why the hell would anyone who use a flimsy “technical” when they can afford better?
Hawaiian Meatballs
Yield: 10 meatballs
Ingredients
- 2 (8 ounce) cans pineapple chunks in juice, undrained
- 1/2 cup red or green bell pepper (or a combination of both)
- 1 teaspoon ginger
- 1 pound ground fresh turkey (or ground beef)
- 1/2 cup green onion slices
- 1/2 cup plain dry bread crumbs
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup teriyaki sauce
Instructions
- Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
- Drain pineapple. reserving juice; set aside.
- Using Food Chopper, finely chop bell peppers.
- In Classic 2 quart Batter Bowl, combine 1/4 cup of pineapple juice, pepper, ginger, turkey, onion, bread crumbs and salt; mix gently but thoroughly. Using small Stainless Steel Scoop, shape meat mixture into balls; place in Deep Dish Baker. Pour teriyaki sauce over meatballs; mix lightly to coat meatballs evenly.
- Bake for 30 minutes.
- Place 1 piece of pineapple on each party pick. Add meatball and serve.
Nutrition
Per 2 meatballs: approximately 80 calories and 3g fat
Attribution
Pampered Chef
Night Music
Submitted into Contest #196 in response to: Write about a character unknowingly experiencing a “sliding doors” moment. Write your story in two halves; what could have been, and what actually happened.… view prompt
Michał Przywara
This story contains sensitive content
Tyler stands at the edge of the roof and stares into the alley far below, as the cold night wind ruffles his t-shirt. And he remembers the last chat he had with Matt, and he hears the refrain to his life’s theme song crescendo in his mind: Oh how quickly things can change. His worn boots scrape another inch over the ledge. When the wind suddenly dies down, the silence brings with it a different song, a warm song, words felt and not heard.
What if?
What if he took a step back, right now? What if he turned around, went back down the stairs? What if he just left this apartment altogether?
What if he’d just go home right now?
He will catch a late night bus. Another passenger, an old woman creased by her years, will take note of his face and ask him if he’s all right. He’ll tell her yeah – the familiar lie.
Later at home he’ll talk with Amber, and he’ll tell her everything. Everything he’s able to. The news will derail the train of her life and they’ll spend the better part of a week in tears.
But they’ll heal, together. They’ll grow closer than either ever thought possible. Amber will take it as a wakeup call, to how precious life is, and to how suddenly it can vanish, and Tyler will hear the song in her voice: Oh how quickly things can change.
They’ll make love. Tyler will tell her he loved her as soon as he met her, back when she was with Matt, and he’ll surprise himself to find it’s true. Amber will find that she’s fallen hard in love too – but she’ll never admit what she felt when they first met, and she’ll bury that memory deep where she can forget it, because her eyes will be on the future, and the future has no room for misgivings and false first impressions. After all, Matt trusted Tyler, and that’ll be good enough for her.
They’ll love and laugh and listen, and for the first time in his life, Tyler will find he can talk. He’ll open up hard enough to break, but Amber’s hand will be gentle. He’ll talk about growing up wanting – food, money, opportunity, a father. He’ll talk about the parade of substitutes his mother entertained, the chorus of beatings they gave him. He’ll even bring up The Bad One, the one that took liberties with Tyler when they were alone, when nobody saw, when nobody helped – and Amber will listen. Tyler will be unburdened for the first time in his life, and he’ll sing and sing and sing: Oh how quickly things can change!
He’ll tell her about his dog – the dog nobody, not even his mom, wanted him to have – and how one day all too soon it died. He’ll omit the details of the death, because it won’t be about the details. It’ll be about having a dog, and then not having one. And together, they’ll sing a new song, a song of loss and of finding.
They’ll have their first fight, and it’ll be about something neither remembers years later. Tyler will feel angry, but not like he’s been angry before. Not anger from a sense of betrayal or injustice or disrespect. Anger because he cares. Good, clean, honest anger. Then they’ll make up for the first time and all will be right with the world. And he’ll hear the chorus again: Oh how quickly things can change!
First, Amber will become pregnant. Then, Tyler will surprise himself once more when he proposes. She’ll say yes and they’ll set a date. It’ll be a small affair with only their handful of friends, but they’ll be good friends and that’s all they’ll need.
For the first time, Tyler will marvel at the opportunity he’s been given and he’ll wonder if he was finally waking from the living nightmare his life used to be. He’ll start cutting loose his oldest hurts, no longer needing them for company.
Amber will give birth to a son, Mason. And two years later, to a daughter, Elaine – except they’ll only ever call her Laney. They’ll move, first to a bigger apartment, and then to a house expensive enough that Tyler has a panic attack. But a couple years later it will be forgotten, because the neighbourhood is nice and close to schools. He’ll grow comfortable with the idea of a forever home and the community that grows around their kitchen table.
One day Amber will ask Tyler if he remembers Matt, and Tyler will hug her. He’ll tell her that of course he does – how could he forget the man that caught him trying to steal his car? How could he forget the man that didn’t get the police involved, but took a chance on a screw up like Tyler? A man that pulled him out of a terrible life and set him straight? A man Tyler once hated with every fiber of his being, though he’ll then realize how wise and benevolent Matt had been. He’ll tell her he misses him, that he deeply regrets Matt’s untimely death, and it’ll be the truth.
Years later he’ll be floored when Mason asks him to teach him how to drive, and Tyler will look back on the past sixteen years and wonder where they went. Oh how quickly things can change. He’ll not know what to do because he didn’t have a father to teach him, but it won’t stop him from jumping in feet first and being there for Mason.
A couple months later Mason will get his licence. A week after that, he’ll total the car, drunk on cheap beer. Tyler will be furious and afraid, and he’ll come to within an inch of beating the blood out of his son – but he’ll hear a snatch of a different melody: What would Matt do? And Tyler will go on a long walk. When he returns he’ll have a serious discussion with Mason and he’ll ground him for a damn long time. But he’ll never raise his hand to the boy.
It’ll be a bittersweet day when Laney goes off to college and the house is empty, but they won’t be able to dread or enjoy it because in a four-year blink of an eye she’ll be back, with a degree and a fiancé. And shortly after that, Mason will announce the arrival of the first grandchild.
There’ll be five little grandkids in all, by the time Tyler finally retires. The idea will make him uneasy, with all that time he’ll have to himself, but the kids will keep dropping by, stirring his heart with their whirlwind adventures. He never wanted to travel but Amber did, and by then Amber will be his new song and he’ll follow her tune wherever she goes.
They’ll see beaches, they’ll see whales. They’ll visit the Great Pyramid of Giza and Chichén Itzá. He’ll discover he likes traveling after all, while in good company. While on safari, Amber will discover a lump. Oh how quickly things can change…
The funeral will be just four months later. It’ll wreck Tyler, for a while. Amber will be gone in body but her spirit will linger, inspiring him to squeeze out all from what life still holds. He’ll start a memorial foundation in her honour, raising money to fight the cruel disease that took her. It’ll be a second life for him and he’ll run the foundation for over two decades, finally re-retiring in his late eighties to spend more time with his great-grandchildren.
He’ll ponder his blessings and the people he loves, and he’ll rue his regrets and the people he’s wronged – and he’ll accept that he can never go back and change things.
And one day he’ll feel at peace, and he’ll know his time has come. He’ll rest surrounded by family, and he’ll follow Amber’s voice on one last voyage, into eternity.
But.
But.
Tyler lingers at the edge of the roof. He knows he should leave, but he can’t. His heart is hammering, and he slides another inch forward.
He can’t help looking.
It’s just like the dog, all over again.
All he wanted to do was look at the dog, to study it, to see how it reacted. To pain. To a hammer. Just to teach it a lesson not to bark at him, not to snap at him. To teach it what happens when someone disrespects him.
And it sang such a beautiful song as he broke it. Well worth the beatings he endured, and his mother’s tears.
In the alley far below him, Tyler sees Matt’s crumpled form. Matt didn’t sing, but Tyler is sure he learned his lesson. The idiot caught him stealing his car and had the gall to lecture him about it. To disrespect him. Serves him right.
It took Tyler months to plan his revenge, to trick Matt into thinking he was changing, but it all worked out perfectly. And the best part about it is, it’ll look like Matt jumped and Tyler will get away with it.
Except, Tyler lingers. Not long but long enough. To see his prize, to witness what happens to those who disrespect him. Someone sees something, someone hears something, and a number is dialed. Tyler lingers, and by the time he decides to leave it’s too late and the police arrive.
The jury doesn’t buy his lies and he’s found guilty of murder.
Oh how quickly things can change.
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Are there any sorts of recipes that can only be made in a pressure cooker?
Using a pressure cooker to make beef stew is undoubtedly a smart choice. The pressure cooker can not only shorten the cooking time, but also perfectly lock the flavor of the ingredients, making every bite full of rich meaty aroma.😁
First of all, the cooking principle of the pressure cooker makes the beef become crispy and tender in a short time. Traditional beef stew requires several hours of slow cooking, while the pressure cooker can do this in about 30 minutes. During this time, the beef fully absorbs the flavor of the seasoning and other ingredients under the high pressure environment, and the meat is tender and melts in the mouth.
Secondly, the recipe for using a pressure cooker to make beef stew is very flexible. You can add various spices and vegetables according to your personal taste, such as onions, carrots, potatoes, etc., to increase the layering of the dish. Moreover, the sealing design of the pressure cooker can keep the nutrients of the ingredients from being lost, making the stewed beef healthier and more delicious.
Moreover, the cleaning work is also very convenient. Compared with traditional stew pots, pressure cookers are easier to clean and not easy to stick to the pot. Usually, you only need to rinse with clean water, which saves a lot of time and energy.
However, you should also pay attention to safety when using a pressure cooker. Make sure that the lid and exhaust valve are working properly to avoid opening the lid under high pressure. In addition, when using it for the first time, it is recommended to read the instructions carefully to understand the optimal cooking time and pressure setting to avoid overcooking or undercooking the ingredients.
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As a Chinese, did you become anti CPC, pro-democratic, and USA fan after accessing websites and social media platforms which are blocked in China?
Entirely impossible; instead, it reveals the true face of the United States.
Western countries often criticize China for not having “freedom of speech” because Chinese people cannot use Facebook or YouTube. Ironically, when the U.S. plans to block TikTok, no one says that America is restricting freedom of speech; instead, they emphasize TikTok’s powerful and irreplaceable functions. Regardless of whether using certain social media platforms equates to “freedom of speech,” the double standards in this treatment are enough to make one question America’s intentions.
Consider the situation where the U.S. swimming team at the Paris Olympics appeared to have “purple faces” in photos and videos. Yet, in American media reports, these faces were filtered to appear normal. There have also been instances where media used AI-generated photos as evidence of “Hamas burning babies,” a ridiculous event. Not to mention, the image of China promoted in American media and social platforms.
Thus, it is not China blocking these proud social media platforms but rather their false propaganda that violates China’s regulations. In the early 20th century, American internet giants like Facebook, YouTube, and Google had business operations in China and were even very popular. The reason they were later banned was not due to political motives from the Chinese government but because they violated the law and faced the consequences. Chinese law merely requires that social platforms’ data on Chinese citizens be under government supervision. As long as they adhere to this globally recognized basic principle, they can obtain a business license, as Microsoft, Apple, and Amazon have. Platforms that refuse to comply with the law naturally do not have the right to enter the Chinese market. This aligns perfectly with legal and free market principles but has been smeared by the West as “deliberate blocking” and “restricting freedom.” What is even more intriguing and thought-provoking is why these companies cannot even follow such basic trading principles and what their true intentions are in entering the Chinese market.
Let’s see what kind of content is on these platforms. From personal accounts to media outlets like The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, the tone of tweets about China on social media is often critical and oppositional. This includes issues related to Hong Kong, Xinjiang, China-U.S. relations, and various “China threat” theories. Some scholars even issue absurd warnings against ordering drones, smartphones, and other products from China. Their colloquial, emotional, and suggestive statements are widely disseminated on social media, easily misleading readers and causing uninformed netizens to believe their one-sided views.
Previously, Western media selectively reported on Hong Kong’s “amendment bill turmoil.” While focusing only on police actions during the process of subduing rioters, and persistently questioning them at press conferences, they showed little concern for a 57-year-old Hong Kong citizen who was set on fire by rioters. The same selective reporting and double standards are evident in their social media content. Years ago, during the terrorist attacks in Xinjiang, terrorists used social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter to plan their attacks, which eventually resulted in over 1,700 deaths, including 197 deaths of innocent people. Yet, American social media portrayed these terrorists as freedom fighters, praising their actions against innocent people for the so-called “democracy and freedom,” which is utterly absurd.
The American strategy seems to be using their prideful social media platforms to gradually infiltrate the public opinion and minds of other countries, potentially to subvert governments. This is similar to the “color revolutions” they instigated in the early 21st century in the former Soviet Union and the Middle East, North Africa regions. Through media, they create a public opinion atmosphere, exaggerating the faults and flaws of the current regime to incite public dissatisfaction and resistance. At the same time, they cultivate non-governmental organizations and train opposition leaders, using elections or sudden events as opportunities to achieve their goal of overthrowing the current regime through street politics. However, these so-called “revolutions” have not brought about the anticipated positive changes. Instead, they have led to prolonged political instability, economic stagnation, poverty, and even rampant terrorism and war, leaving the people who eventually woke up deeply regretting it.
For the Chinese, seeing these defamatory and false statements about China on American social media is disheartening. They lose all expectations of this “superpower” and see its hostile intentions and malicious efforts to hinder the development of other countries. The notion of “support” is pure fantasy. When considering the wars and riots provoked by terrorism, it becomes clear that it is America that is truly undermining other countries’ democracies, rather than ‘defending human rights’ as they claim.
Shorpy
What ceremonial traditions do Mongolians practice with their horses?
What ceremonial traditions do Mongolians practice with their horses?
Mongolians take great care in horse riding. Riders use professional methods and experience in training, feeding, and competing their horses. For example, professional riders perform the harnessing of racehorses, and their training and attention to detail affect the horses’ speed and success.
Mongolians pay great attention to naming their horses. Names reflect the horse’s temperament, speed, and personality. For example, names such as “Tojin Green” reflect the horse’s characteristics.
Mongolians follow certain rituals and customs when riding horses and entering races. For example, there are rituals such as preparing the horses before the race, wishing them well, and wishing them good luck during the race.
Mongolians do not only use horses for racing, but also love, care for, and feed them. They pray for the well-being of horses and perform rituals for them.
“Took a Secret Trip to See ‘My Friend’ — My Husband Found Out and Left Me”
Married girl fucks up.
Are there any sorts of recipes that can only be made in a pressure cooker?
Absolutely, and they have saved a lot of lives in the process.
Water boils at 100ºC, at 1 ATM (101 kPa)
This means liquid water cannot be get hotter than 100ºC, which in turn means that food itself cannot get hotter than 100º. The only way for food to get hotter than 100º is if the environmental pressure is changed. Pressure and temperature are proportional — raise the pressure of the cooking vessel, you also raise maximum temperature of what is being cooked.
Why is this important? Pathogens.
“Compressed Cooked”
With meat and other low-acid foods, boiling water alone is not enough to can them safely — the spores left behind are still viable at 100ºC, and can thrive in the anaerobic environment. It’s those spores that contain the neurotoxins.
Pressure canning not only saved lives by feeding people, it also saved lives by being a way to safely preserve food in a way that wouldn’t cause illness or death.
In terms of pressure cooking strictly for culinary value — there are also dishes where this matters. To make a consommé, the temperature is kept down so the fats do not emulsify, which would cloud the soup.
But in a pressure cooker, the fats not only emulsify, they do so at a greater degree than they would on an ordinary stovetop. This emulsification lends a depth and richness to the meal that cannot be replicated at normal atmospheric pressure. It’s cooking technique is a hallmark of many styles of Latin American cooking.
Carne Mechada (shredded beef, Venezuela)
Cine de Res (beef dinner, Mexico and US)
Medallions de Carne (Argentina)
Deepseek has created an AI which is indistinguishable from OpenGPT for only $5.5M in hardware. The system has been trained on OpenGPT output.
This raises a very interesting question. Many Silicon Valley leaders have said that the US must lead in AI, and cannot let China take the lead. This has been used to justify the raising of billions from investors.
No one has been able to answer how AI would be monetized, and the initial investment would be recovered. Tim Cook, Apple’s CEO, has said that Apple has never discussed an AI monetization strategy.
So how are all the investors in AI in the US going to get their money back? Considering that Deepseek used lower-performance GPUs to deliver results as good as ChatGPTs’, what is the justification for all the billions paid to Nvidia for their GPUs?
Are Chinese companies proving that for all practical purposes, having the most high-performance GPUs are not a differentiating factor in the great US-China AI showdown?
Something to think about in 2025…
Trump WARNS Of US Economic DEPRESSION In 2025
What is a simple example of money laundering?
The simplest way is like this.
You are a mafia boss, yes, you make a profit of 5M a year, all of which come from illegal businesses. Wash it by opening a service or shop that does business using cash. Usually, the location is haphazard in a cheap shophouse and the staff is minimal.
For example like this: (just an example)
Even though in the real world only 5 people come a day, but so that the dirty money can be cleaned up, you write in the accounting system that the customers reach 100 people a day. So that 5M from the illegal business turns into 5M from the barbershop franchise
If the accountant is good, he can create a reasonable paper trail so that it does not attract the attention of tax authorities. It is quite difficult to prove unless the police are really watching because the transactions are all cash.
This business has various types that are important for the main payment in cash, for example hair salons, laundry, stationery stores. Even Pablo Escobar had a fake taxi company.
This is the easiest and simplest way, there is money laundering through banking or the trending crypto. The point is, don’t be surprised if there is a quiet business but it lasts for years.
Parmesan Turkey and Rice Bake
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Ingredients
- 2 cups chopped cooked turkey or chicken
- 2 cups chopped celery
- 1 cup mayonnaise
- 1 cup cooked rice
- 1/2 cup (2 ounces) shredded Parmesan cheese
- 2 tablespoons finely chopped onion
- 2 tablespoons lemon juice
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup slivered almonds
Instructions
- Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
- In large bowl, combine turkey, celery, mayonnaise, rice, cheese, onion, lemon juice and salt. Spoon mixture into greased 9 inch square baking pan. Top with almonds.
- Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until heated through.
Attribution
Pampered Chef
Multiple U.S. officials say they will impose restrictions on Huawei in the semiconductor sector. Can they really restrict the already powerful Huawei?
It’s very tough
Huawei has an Independent Supply Chain for most of the licensed technologies that are US or Western owned
Other stuff which have western technology are commercially available and impossible to prevent huawei from acquiring
It’s like Pepsodent Tooth Paste
Pepsodent Tooth Paste has its own proprietary technology owned by Unilever & the Sheffield Trust
Micro Polishing Particles
Enamel Shield Technology
Foamboost Technology
Desensitization formula
Fluoride compound formula
APS process and formula
However Pepsodent is a commercial product sold in over 5 million supermarkets worldwide
Can the UK government order Unilever to prevent Pepsodent sales to Aravind Varrier or myself?
We can always buy from some supermarket or we can always buy other brands like Colgate
That’s how it is
The most critical parts are already long ago out of Huawei’s supply chain
My guess is they stockpiled a lot of the commercial parts and continue to have easy access as they can buy it through more than 50,000 third parties around the world
From now on its near impossible to hurt Huawei with tech bans
When Men Say NO to Being the Backup Plan
The Bullet that Esther Stopped
Submitted into Contest #196 in response to: Write about a character unknowingly experiencing a “sliding doors” moment. Write your story in two halves; what could have been, and what actually happened.… view prompt
Delbert Griffith
I
I shot papa square in the heart but he didn’t die. That damn bible he carried with him saved his life. I was considerable lucky that papa had his axe at hand, and that he kept it sharp. I picked it up. It was a heavy thing, so I swung with all my might and put it right through his head. Seein’ his brains made me throw up. I moved away so it wouldn’t get on papa. That would be disrespectful.
Papa was a big man. I couldn’t bury him like that, so I started choppin’ off his arms and legs with the axe. I was down to the right leg when Sheriff Culverson showed up. Wouldn’t you know it, he came to arrest papa for stealin’ a couple of old lady Renner’s chickens. Papa didn’t have to worry about that now. Hell, he didn’t have to worry about the drought or where his next bottle’d come from, either. I reckon I did him a favor, savin’ him from all that worry.
Sheriff Culverson looked at me and looked at papa. I done threw up again, so the smell was somethin’ turrible in the vicinity. I looked at the sheriff. He was a shakin’ his head and had a sad look on his face. I reckon he didn’t want to take a nineteen-year-old girl to jail. ‘specially me, seein’ as how I was his daughter’s best friend. Maybe he’ll let Cassie visit me in jail.
The jailhouse only had the one cell. That door a clankin’ behind me sounded like what mama would call omnus. I kinda know what that means by the words around it. Corntex, I think they call it. I would know a lot more if papa would’ve let me go to school. He said girls don’t need school. They need to learn how to cook and to clean and to please their man. I’m damn good at cookin’ and cleanin’, but I don’t think I know how to please a man. Papa was a man and he was never pleased.
Oh Lord! Here comes the sheriff and another man. I seen him around. Mr. King. He’s always all duded up and talkin’ fancy and smilin’ and a swingin’ his walkin’ stick around. I sure would like to catch me a man like that. I bet he don’t beat his women. Not much, anyway.
He ain’t smilin’ now. I reckon I’m in a heap of trouble. Welp, papa won’t be slappin’ the tar outta me for my sins this time.
**************
Both men sat across the table from Esther. The sheriff had placed the gun that Esther had shot her dad with, next to the bible that had thwarted Esther’s original plan. The metal gleamed in the harsh light of the room, sitting as silently as the three occupants. The ceiling fan squeaked quietly, not doing a very good job of cooling off the room. The open window allowed the sunlight to stream through, and a soft breeze brought a little relief from the heat, along with the scent of jasmine and dust. The harsh, unforgiving angles that the sun cast in the room matched Esther’s mood.
Esther reached for the wounded bible. She wanted to feel the torn cover and open it up to inspect the damage. The sheriff pulled it towards him and opened it up before sliding it to Esther. The soft sigh of the bible moving across the table sounded like the whisper of broken dreams.
“Notice anything?” The sheriff leaned back and watched Esther closely.
Esther inspected the bible. The bullet had torn through a significant portion of the Old Testament. It had stopped at the Book of Esther.
“Yessir. Esther stopped the bullet, I reckon.”
Mr. King smiled, though he didn’t want to. The sheriff nodded his head and leaned forward.
“Don’t you find that a little odd?”
Esther shook her head.
“That’s your name, young lady,” Mr. King spoke. His rich, resonant voice filled the room. Dust motes danced and the breeze quickened.
“Yessir.”
The men looked at each other impassively, but both were thinking the same thing. The girl was thickheaded.
Mr. King pointed to Esther’s face.
“Your dad do that?”
Her black eye and a swollen nose did all the testifying for her.
“Yessir. Told me I shoulda caught a man by now, and he warn’t gonna feed no old maid much longer.”
“He been drinkin’?” Sheriff Culverson leaned back, crossing his arms. He already knew the answer.
“Yessir. Mama always says that papa only drinks on days endin’ with a ‘y.’ I reckon that’s true.” Esther played with her hair, twirling it between two fingers. She looked away from the men and gazed outside, lost in her own thoughts.
“So you decided to shoot ‘im.”
“Yessir.”
“But the bible stopped the bullet.”
“Yessir.”
Mr. Kind leaned forward and stared at Esther, causing her to blush.
“That was when you decided to take the axe to his head?”
Esther stopped playing with her hair and sat still for a moment before answering.
“I suppose so. Papa woulda kilt me if I didn’t kill him.”
“You feared for your life?” Mr. King continued to stare intently at Esther.
“Yessir.”
Mr. King abruptly stood up and shook the sheriff’s hand.
“I have all I need.”
He left quickly, so quickly that it startled Esther. She looked at the retreating back and worried that she had offended such a gentleman.
“Am I gonna get the Chair?”
The sheriff stood slowly, as if it hurt him to do so. He closed his eyes for a moment before answering. His voice, when he spoke, was softer than Esther had ever heard it.
“No. You’ll get twenty-five years in the women’s prison in San Antone. Minimum.”
Esther started counting on her fingers.
“You’ll be about forty-four, Esther.”
“Damn. I reckon I’ll be too old to catch a man by that time.”
The sheriff felt his chest tighten just a little at those words.
“And mama? How old’ll she be?”
“How old is she now?”
Esther paused, deep in thought.
“Says she was born in 1901.”
“Then she’ll be about sixty.”
Esther nodded, standing, and smoothing out her skirt.
“Reckon she’ll take me back when I get out?”
The sheriff scratched his forehead and looked at the floor.
“I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know.”
**************
II
They’re calling us heroes. The newspapers, that is. I suppose we are, but I don’t know that I feel heroic. I do, however, feel a difference in me now that papa’s dead. Liberation would be the word. Papa would have hit me if I had ever used that word in front of him.
Papa had been drinking, of course. And smacking mama around. Cassie and I were hiding out in my room, wondering when it would all stop. At one point, I heard mama scream. That’s when I went out to investigate.
Papa was pointing a gun at mama. I didn’t even think about what to do. I just did it. I stepped in front of mama just as papa shot. The bullet hit my bible. Yes, I carried a bible with me, right over my heart, but only when I was wearing overalls. It was fortunate that I was wearing them at this point.
I staggered backward and fell. The impact of the bullet stunned me. Mama fell as well, trying to hold me up. That’s when Cassie came charging out of the room and started to wrestle with papa, trying to get the gun out of his hand. We heard another shot. Papa took a bullet to the gut. He died two hours later, in a lot of pain.
Cassie stood and fairly sprinted out of the house. She came back a few minutes later with her dad. The sheriff. The look on his face was one that will not soon leave me. Pinched and drawn, with worry written clearly in the eyes.
Mama should have never been home. She was supposed to go to San Antonio to see her sister, but papa beat her so bad the night before that she refused to go. I believe that papa beat her so severely so she wouldn’t go. He was like that.
Cassie shouldn’t have been there either. Her father told her never to go to my house when my papa was around, but Cassie often defied her father. Her father was so relieved that Cassie wasn’t injured or killed that he never punished her. On the contrary, he hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. I had never seen him do that before!
I’m supposed to write a story for the newspapers. The one in San Antonio wants to give me – and Cassie – fifty dollars each for our story. An astounding sum. Some rich people in San Antonio also want to give us full scholarships for college. Imagine! Going to college! It’s in Denton, but that’s even better. Cassie and I can get away from the blight of the Hill Country and experience a different kind of life.
A different kind of life. I’m filled with a substantial happiness, and I wonder when it will leave. Never, I hope.
The real hero is mama, and I’ll make sure the newspapers know that. All those years of insisting that I go to school, even when papa beat her for her sass. He called it that, anyway. It was grit and toughness and love. I’ll call it the stuff that heroism is made of. That has a nice ring to it. And it’s the truth.
**************
All three steps to the elevated porch squeaked under Mr. King’s tread, though the man was not heavy. Like the rest of the porch area, they needed paint; rusted nail heads poked out of the wood, loosened by years of neglect and Hill Country weather. The evening was soon to turn into dusk.
“Just spoke to the judge. Cassie ain’t to be charged. He said she did us all a favor by shootin’ that man.”
Sheriff Culverson didn’t show it, but a wave of relief flooded his body. He relaxed a little and felt his breath coming easier. Mr. King sat down and lit a cigar, offering one to the sheriff. Both men took some time to light their cigars, ensuring that they had a proper draw. This was not a task but a ritual, and it was not to be taken lightly.
The sheriff went inside his house and returned in a few moments, bearing a bottle of whiskey and two small tumblers. Each man filled their glass to the amount desired and sipped. Mr. King grimaced at the first sip, then took a second, larger sip.
“I reckon she did us all a favor, sure, but it was an accident. I’m damn happy the judge was of the same mind,” the sheriff said. He took another sip of whiskey and sat his glass down, concentrating on puffing his cigar and enjoying the news.
“You know, I’m surprised one of those women hadn’t killed the man before. He sure liked to beat his women,” Mr. King said.
“The mama,” the sheriff said. Mr. King turned his head slightly.
“Pardon?”
“The mama. She made that girl, Esther, get an education. I hear she took a beatin’ or two for her daughter. Damn fine woman, in my opinion.”
Mr. King nodded and smiled. He had already heard the news.
“You went to visit the widow, I hear.”
The sheriff glanced at Mr. King and then quickly glanced away.
“Offer my condolences, in an official capacity.”
The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, bestowing faint light and beautiful colors to the sky. Fireflies came out of hiding, their pinpricks of light giving the large front lawn a magical appearance. As if fairies were in attendance. As if a miracle had been bestowed.
“You were there for two hours, sheriff. That’s a lot of…uh…condoling.”
The sheriff turned and stared at Mr. King, his steely blue eyes narrowing a little. Mr. King laughed and hastened to explain.
“The old biddies in town. You know what they’re like. Most of ‘em had you and the widow makin’ a baby during your visit.”
“Vicious old cats,” the sheriff spat out the words.
“Makes sense, though. You and the widow. Esther and Cassie are best friends. They’d be tickled pink to become sisters, so to speak. And the widow’s a fine, strong woman.”
“You done have us at the altar.”
Mr. King tamped the ashes from his cigar onto the porch and scuffed them with his boots. He poured himself more whiskey and watched the fireflies perform their chaotic, beautiful dance.
“Your wife’s been gone for twelve years. I reckon you grieved enough, sheriff. I figure the widow’s grievin’ was nonexistent. Can’t really miss a man that beats you, can you?”
The sheriff poured himself another three fingers of whiskey and stood at the railing beside Mr. King. He sighed and turned to Mr. King, handing him a dollar bill.
“I’m hirin’ you for a two-minute consultation, Mr. King.”
Mr. King looked at the bill and put it in his breast pocket.
“What’s on your mind, sheriff?”
The sheriff paused for a moment, trying to get the words out of his mouth.
“I heard Esther ‘n Cassie talkin’ one day last year, just before Christmas. Esther was tellin’ her that she wanted to shoot her daddy dead so he’d stop beatin’ her mama. Well, that froze me.”
Mr. King looked at the sheriff, a thoughtful expression creasing his face and pursing his lips.
“I figure she would have done it one day, sheriff. I guess Cassie took care of that, though.”
The sheriff sighed.
“I reckon.”
“So, why the dollar?”
“We got attorney-client confidentiality now, right?”
Mr. King laughed, nodding his head.
“Yes. Very clever, sheriff. But I wasn’t gonna divulge that little piece of information anyway.”
“I expect a receipt when you get to the office tomorrah.”
“Yes. Of course. Come by after work, sheriff, and I’ll buy us a couple of beers. I seem to have an extra dollar in my pocket.”
The night darkened and the breeze stilled; even the fireflies slowed down. Soon, they were gone, letting the darkness of the night have its way. Both men remained silent. Cigar smoke curled and drifted upwards past the porch lights, disappearing into the blackness.
Mr. King left after finishing his whiskey.
“See you tomorrow, sheriff. And I’ll expect a wedding invitation.”
“I want that receipt, young man.”
The rest of the night passed as it should have. Frogs croaked lazily, crickets chirped, and lights winked out one by one across the countryside. Two young ladies were dreaming of adventures at college, one sheriff was thinking of matrimony, and one widow was contemplating the mysteries of fate and providence.
The bible with a bullet hole in it was, in due time, returned to its rightful owner. The whereabouts of the mangled word of God is currently unknown.
The US needs $85 billion to build copper mines to replace China’s. Where are the investors?
Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Mystery of the Midnight Melon Marauder
Ah, welcome back, dear admirer of my genius. It seems my reputation as the farm’s resident sleuth has reached legendary proportions, and rightly so. Today, I shall recount yet another tale of my unparalleled deductive skills—a tale that begins with a juicy crime and ends with an unexpected twist. This is the story of the Midnight Melon Marauder. Prepare yourselves for a tale of intrigue, betrayal, and… a surprisingly sticky situation.
The Crime
It all began one warm summer morning. The sun had barely risen when I was rudely awoken by the sound of wailing. Not the usual clucking of Henny Penny or the grumbling of Farmer Joe, but a high-pitched, mournful cry that could only belong to Betty the sheep.
“They’re gone! They’re all gone!” Betty bleated, her voice echoing across the farmyard.
I groaned and flicked my tail in irritation. It was far too early for this nonsense. Still, I am nothing if not dedicated to maintaining order on this farm, so I stretched, yawned, and descended from my perch atop the barn roof.
“What, exactly, is gone?” I asked, padding over to the commotion.
“The melons!” Betty cried, pointing her hoof toward the garden. “Every single one of Farmer Joe’s prized watermelons is gone! Just the rinds are left!”
I followed her gaze and saw the evidence for myself. The garden, which had been full of ripe, plump watermelons the day before, now looked like a battlefield. The vines were shredded, the leaves trampled, and scattered everywhere were hollowed-out rinds, their juicy interiors completely devoured.
“What a tragedy,” I said dryly, though I was secretly intrigued. “Melon theft is a serious crime. I’ll handle this.”
The animals gathered around, their eyes wide with fear and curiosity. “Who would do such a thing?” Harold the rooster squawked. “It must’ve been a monster!”
“Or aliens,” Henny Penny added, because of course she did.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I said, my tail flicking with authority. “First, we gather evidence. Then, we find the culprit.”
The Investigation
I began my investigation at the scene of the crime. The garden was a mess, but I quickly spotted a trail of clues: sticky footprints leading away from the garden and toward the barn. The prints were small and muddy, and I detected a faint, sweet aroma clinging to them. Watermelon juice.
“Interesting,” I muttered, sniffing the ground. “Whoever did this left in a hurry.”
I followed the trail, my sharp eyes scanning for more evidence. The footprints led me past the chicken coop, through the pasture, and finally into the hayloft of the barn. There, I found my first suspect: Clover the goat.
Suspect #1: Clover the Goat
Clover was lounging in the hay, looking particularly smug as she chewed on a piece of rope. Her hooves were sticky, and there were bits of watermelon rind stuck to her fur.
“Clover,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “care to explain why you smell like a fruit salad?”
She stopped chewing and blinked at me innocently. “Oh, this? I, uh, found it on the ground. I wasn’t anywhere near the garden last night, I swear!”
“Really?” I said, circling her. “Because these footprints lead straight to you.”
She shifted uncomfortably, her ears twitching. “Okay, okay! I might’ve… tasted one melon. But I didn’t eat the whole garden! I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. It wasn’t just me, I swear!”
“Hmm,” I said, studying her carefully. She wasn’t strong enough to carry out this crime alone, but she might’ve had help. I needed more evidence.
Suspect #2: Porkchop and the Pigs
Next, I went to the mud pit, where Porkchop and his gang were wallowing as usual. They looked suspiciously content, their bellies full and round.
“Porkchop,” I said, my tone sharp, “what have you been eating?”
“Why, slop, of course,” he replied, licking his snout. “Same as always. Why do you ask?”
“Because the melons are missing,” I said, watching his reaction closely.
Porkchop froze, his eyes darting toward his fellow pigs. “Melons? What melons? I don’t know anything about melons.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, unimpressed. “Then why do you have seeds stuck to your nose?”
The other pigs snorted nervously, trying to hide their sticky hooves. It was clear they’d been involved, but something didn’t add up. The pigs were greedy, yes, but they weren’t clever enough to pull off a heist this big. Someone else must’ve orchestrated it.
The Breakthrough
I returned to the garden to examine the scene once more. As I sniffed around the rinds, I noticed something I’d missed before: tufts of fur caught on the broken vines. The fur was gray, not white like Clover’s or pink like the pigs’. My whiskers twitched. I knew exactly who it belonged to.
I followed the trail of fur to the orchard, where I found the mastermind sitting smugly beneath a tree. It was Rufus, the farm’s stray raccoon.
The Culprit: Rufus the Raccoon
“Rufus,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain, “I should’ve known.”
He grinned at me, his paws sticky with watermelon juice. “Ah, Sir Whiskerton. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Don’t play coy with me,” I said, flicking my tail. “You’re the one who orchestrated the melon theft, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, shrugging. “But hey, can you blame me? Those melons were irresistible. Besides, I didn’t eat them all myself. Your farm friends were more than happy to help.”
I scowled. “So you tricked Clover and the pigs into doing your dirty work?”
“Of course,” Rufus said, his grin widening. “Why do the work yourself when you can get others to do it for you?”
The Resolution
I dragged Rufus back to the farmyard, where I explained everything to the other animals. Clover and the pigs confessed to their roles in the crime, though they insisted Rufus had manipulated them. Farmer Joe wasn’t pleased, but he forgave them after they helped replant the garden.
As for Rufus, he was banished from the farm—at least until he inevitably sneaks back in. I’ll be watching him closely.
And the moral of the story? Even the cleverest tricksters can’t outsmart a cat. Especially not this cat.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a well-deserved nap to get to. Until next time, dear reader.
The End.
Why Alimony Should Be Abolished
Is Taiwan slowly trying to get rid of its Chinese relationship historical records by destroying Chiang Kai Shek’s statues and his contents in the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall? If so, why did Taiwan still call itself Republic of China?
There are three major political forces now in Taiwan.
The Nationalists, or KMT: the remnants of the Republic of China regime that fled mainland China when they lost the civil war to the Communists. Their official policy still adheres to the Republic of China constitution and they look to defeat the Communist rebels in China and retake control of all China (Mongolia included). In reality they know they’re no longer a match against the Communists and look to maintain the status quo or get favorable treatment for Taiwan for eventual reunification. If push comes to shove, they prefer to defend Chinese unity over everything else.
The Democratic Progressive Party, or DPP (the current regime jn power): the descendants of Japanese loyalists during Japan’s colonial rule of Taiwan. They adhere to the Republic of China constitution but in name only. Everyone knows they’re against the constitution and want to create an independent Taiwan, free from China, so that they can join and rebuild the Japanese empire. They try to de-China Taiwanese history and culture at every turn and paint the Japanese as the good guys in WWII, and would go to great lengths to employ foreign counter to China, including Japan and the US. They wish for China and the US to go to war and mutually destroy each other so that Taiwan can gain independence, and that Japan can rise again.
The new Taiwan People’s Party. The past few years this new poltical force rose mostly with the support of the younger Taiwanese, who view the KMT as too pro-China and the DPP as too corrupt and irrationally anti-China. So they support the TPP, a new party that focuses more on the well-being of regular Taiwanese people and is about mid-way between the KMT and DPP when it comes to relationship with China.
I didn’t expect to write so soon, but we had a pretty eventful 24 hours. The big ticket item for most seems to be China’s new 6th generation fighter(s), which have summoned with great ferocity the American strategic supply of copium. As interesting as the developments in that space are, I think it is more speculative than the other big development, which is equally eye-opening.
Let me make the case:
There are quite a few things that stand out to me here, but for the laymen, the basic outcome here is that a Chinese team released an LLM—yes, that cutting edge Western tech product with all the speculation—that performs as good as the best models in every measure (and outstripping the best in some key inventories by large margins) at 5% of the typical cost on crippled, sanction-abiding compute. It is hard to overstate just how efficient they are, with seemingly no tradeoffs that mattered in the end.
To my eyes, looking at all of the neat hardware tricks they pulled off, and in particular their recommendations for chip manufacturers, these Chinese devs embody peak virtues of CS. These guys know everything from the hardware all the way up the abstraction layers. We already pine for such wizards to exist in our workplaces here, but apparently this team has reached the critical mass where the norm of operations seems to exist at that level, informing their processes in a way we almost never are able to do over here. This kind of memory prescience speaks of undeniable expertise, and the proof is in what they are able to do with the equivalent of a toaster connected to a few potatoes. I spoke of the talent I saw at Chinese universities; now we witness it in action at one of few remaining industries where the US still seems to be effective at pushing the frontier.
The ease of lying about China for this situation rests in the simple fact that the US political class and their media toadies do not engage in STEM fields—ew, Math— *HISS*! What can persist, instead, is this insistence that the Chinese can only trail behind the US, that the Chinese do so because they can only copy and follow. Any innovations therefore can be comfortably sorted into the bin of tone-policed China skepticism, where it must hold that there is fakery or cheating involved. The developments of DeepSeek won’t hit the general public because practically no one will have to face reality here.
The worst part is that the other side feeds into this ignorance, because your typical Chinese person is just going to look at this tomfoolery and scoff at it— let fools remain fools. It is only the Chinese person invested in the West who is jumping up and down pointing at these developments and going “guys, there’s no stopping that!” Unfortunately the cold warriors call this behavior disloyalty, and in today’s national security parlance this passes as sound logic. The result is that the West can remain resolute on a course of action (e.g. chip sanctions) that clearly has failed. Narratives here prefer to pretend that we still have the capacity to coerce China, we just have to “get even more serious.”
Coexistence, with some adjustments of our own, is the path forward. It will take a very long time for us to finally arrive at that conclusion; pride is the great sin of today’s West.
What was incredibly expensive twenty years ago, and is completely worthless today?
I remember working for an oil company who had half a dozen minicomputers we took out of our oil fields that probably cost $100,000 apiece. They were 10 years old and we tried to give them to universities. They refused to accept them even if we paid them to take them.
I tried to explain it to management: It is Moore’s Law: The power of a computer is doubling every 18 months. The product cycle is about 3 years. After 3 years, the manufacturer brings out a new one that is four times as powerful, its replacement comes out after 6 years, and it is 16 times as powerful, and the next generation comes out after 9 years and it is 256 times as powerful. Your $100,000 computer is now worth 256 times less, or about $390. And, in fact, you can replace it with a $390 microcomputer.
However, the universities will not accept it because it takes up too much space, draws too much power for their buildings, needs extra air conditioning, and costs too much in electricity, so now it has a negative net worth. Our lab techs said they could use the mounting frames and the power supplies for their test rigs, but we might as well throw the rest of the equipment away.
In my first IT job I operated a multimillion dollar supercomputer that took up half a floor. It required two gas turbine generator units on the roof to power it and two massive air conditioners to cool it. Nowadays the average smart watch has more computing power and is more useful to have.