“Rufus! Come in. We loved your latest piece on the migrant situation in the Mediterranean. You’re really broadening the horizons of the readers of the Post.”

             “Our readers already have pretty broad horizons.”

“Of course they do. They read the Post!”

Rufus sat in a windowless room, empty apart from the plastic chair that he sat on, opposite a man in a white polo shirt and khaki pants. The man wore a lanyard with an empty transparent I.D. wallet and a pen hanging from it. Rufus lived for information, and had almost none. Introductions seemed to be the place to start.

“I’m Rufus Kenton from the Washington Post, and you are?”

“Yes! I am. And you are too, Rufus. Both of us present here today. Thank you for coming along. We love your work and we were very keen that it be you who got access to our facility.”

“Ok. Who’s we? I’m going to assume you’re an agent. May I record this?”

“Record away, Rufus.” The voice was avuncular Texan. The speaker, tightly bald and leather cheeked, leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His pen swung on its lanyard and clicked against the cheap plastic seat. Had muscle gone to fat, or was it just undercover? Either way, the man was two of Rufus.

“C.I.A?” said Rufus, keeping his words to a minimum and letting his eyebrows do the heavy lifting.

“I used to be in the C.I.A.,” said the man. The crows feet at his eyes went up a shoe size. “Still am. But I used to be too!” he sat back in his chair grinning. It creaked as he folded livestock arms.

“And you’ve invited me here to work on your tight five-minute stand-up set?” said Rufus, clicking his own pen and opening his note book.

“Relax, Rufus. We love journalists these days, we brought you here so we can work together. We’re on the same side.”

“I’m an independent journalist. I’m on the side of truth.”

“And justice and the American way?” said the agent with a gentle frown of sincerity.

“Sure, but truth comes first. So, what is this place?”

“This, Rufus, is the most secure lab in the world. A football field of razor wire in every direction, anti-drone fields, automated sniper turrets. This place has its own F35 guard dog on round-the-clock standby. It has a bunker from the nineteen fifties which has been pimped with some tech which is still going to look pretty damned impressive in the twenty fifties.”

“Why?”

“Exactly! I knew we had the right man for the job. Anybody in their right mind would ask why, and you, Rufus, are going to tell them.”

“I’m going to tell them the truth.”

“Of course you are. That’s your job. Which theory of truth do you currently subscribe to?”

“Truth, reality, I’m going to tell people what I find here today.”

“Oh, we’re counting on it. Now, I’m a plain old correspondence theory man myself. The truth arises from the correspondence of language, thought and such like, to a mind-independent world. Seems like our world is more mind-independent than ever! Am I right? Ha! Nah, Veritas est adaequatio rei et intellectus – Truth is the adequation of things and intellect; Isaac Israeli via Aquinas.”

“Nice to know they’re teaching Latin at Langley.”

“Surprised? You don’t think they keep me round just ‘cos I can kill a guy with a pen, do you?”

Against his better judgement, Rufus liked the guy. So what if he really could kill him without breaking a sweat? Rufus was not octagon material; it was not that impressive a boast. But Rufus was no coward, so it was not much use as a threat either, if that’s what it was, and not just another joke, not that the two things were mutually exclusive. In conclusion, Rufus just shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked down at his notepad.

“Relax! I’m only joking,” said the man. “I wouldn’t need a pen. Are you ready to take a look around?”

Rufus had had a bag over his head since he got in a chopper of the roof of the building he’d been told to report to. It had not been removed until he stood outside the room he was now in and he had no idea how much time had elapsed, how far he had travelled or in what direction. He could have been in one of half a dozen states, maybe seven, maybe eight or nine if you counted irritation and confusion, states he seemed to visit with increasing regularity. He was ready to take a look around.

“Let’s go.”

The corridor outside the room was lit by a thin arboreal glow of emergency lighting. The agent walked ahead of him, fleetingly green as they passed under the long passage’s evenly spaced exit signs. After what Rufus judged to have been about a minute, time measured by his unacknowledged humming of The Fugs’ C.I.A. Man, they reached an unmarked door. To Rufus’s left a dark space with a tiny exit sign floating in it, marking the invisible length of a perpendicular corridor. The agent saw Rufus looking to his left at the tiny eye-test of an exit sign.

“No, it’s in here,” said the agent, opening the door and disappearing through it. Rufus followed him into a room which was industrially dark.

“So, you promise to write about what you find here?” asked the agent.

“Certainly,” said Rufus.

“Good! We need it out there. We need the internet full of it. We need…”

“You’re going to get the truth, whether it’s what you need or not. But I guess it would be easy enough for you to silence me if you wanted to? You could do it here and now, with your pen,” said Rufus to a black absence where he imagined the agent might be standing.

“No! No, no, no, Rufus.” The voice came from the opposite direction to the one in which Rufus had pointlessly turned his head. “It’s not like that at all. And anyway, like I said.” The voice now came from behind him. “I wouldn’t need a pen.”

Rufus peered into the black, trying to breathe steadily and control a heartrate that evolution was attempting to increase with every second spent in the vulnerability of sightlessness.

“Now, Rufus, write the truth if you want, but please try and appreciate that in my business it’s really the value of information that matters, regardless of whether it can be proven to be true or not.”

“Surely information is more valuable if it’s true? We have to confirm if things are true.”

“Well, ah, Rufus. So, y’know Socrates, right?”

“I know of him.”

“Well one day one of Socrates’ buddies runs up to him and…”

“Ah Jesus, come on, man.”

“One of his buddies runs up and says, ‘You’ll never guess what I heard about Diogenes.’”

“Just turn the lights on.”

“’Whoa!’ Socrates replies, ‘You gotta pass the Triple Filter Test first,’ and his buddy’s like ‘Triple filter?’ and Socrates is like, ‘I’m going to filter what you say. The first filter is truth. Are you absolutely sure that what you are about to say is true?’ and his buddy’s like, ‘Maybe, dunno, just heard it.’ And then Socrates is like, ‘Ok, possibly not true, so filter two, the goodness filter. Is what you are about to tell me something good?’ and his buddy gets a bit flustered and he’s like, ‘Nah, pretty bad actually.’ And so, Socrates is like ‘Mmhmm, third test; is this information going to be useful to me?’ and his buddy’s pretty embarrassed by now and he’s like, ‘Well, no, not really.’ So, Socrates is like, ‘So you were going to tell me something that might not have been true, good, or useful. Why tell me or anyone else such a thing?’ and the guy’s feeling pretty bad and he realises this must be how come they say Socrates is so wise…”

“And it also explains why Socrates never found out that Diogenes was banging his wife.”

“You heard it! Ha! You do understand.”

“Just turn the lights on.”

“If I do, you’ll see the truth, but not the value. We need you to create the value, Rufus. That’s what you’re here for. We need information out there. Lots of it. Generated from this beautiful big resource magnet of a lab. It doesn’t have to be true, it doesn’t have to be good, but whatever it is, it’ll be useful and it’ll be ours. And it’ll be a good reason for all of our less enthusiastic supporters to keep their eyes on this place, instead of anywhere less convenient.”

“Please just turn the lights on.”

“This room is completely empty, Rufus. I can leave the lights off so you can’t see anything, or I can turn them on, so you can see nothing. Either way, you’re reporting the same truth. You want ‘em on?”

“Please.”

“Happy writing, Rufus.”

An analogue clunk announced a staccato strobe and the room bounced in and out of existence before settling into its vast reality. Rufus stood alone in an echo-ready hall. It was completely empty.

1. 26.2 miles is a long way to run
2. Halfway isn’t halfway
3. Lubricant, in all the right places, is your best friend
4. Even a soft sports vest can be like sandpaper to unprotected nipples after 20 miles of running, sweating and rubbing
5. I would look into buying cushioned socks with specific left and right feet
6. Trainers with plenty of room in the toe area are a must
7. You need to hydrate before you feel the need to: little and often is best
8. If you’re running on carbs (as opposed to a fat-adapted diet), take gels, sweets and other carb-fuels well before you feel the need to. In fact schedule them in
9. The first 18 miles are easy; it’s the last 8 that make it a marathon
10. Without proper training, including plenty of long steady runs, the last 8 miles can feel like 30
11. Running into a slight headwind at mile 23 can feel like pulling a truck
12. The urge to stop can be utterly overwhelming in the final few miles
13. You don’t lose that much time by walking for a while, if you really need to. Just don’t stop completely or you’ll have trouble moving again, and then you’ll lose a lot
14. A cheer, even from a random stranger, can revitalise you, helping you find some energy within, when you thought it was all but gone
15. In spite of it being hard, I learned that I could actually do it
16. Finishing a marathon is an emotional affair: expect to cry at the finish
17. It wouldn’t be my last

Who were the Sullivan Brothers? Why are they important?

Originally Answered: Who were the Sullivan Brothers? Why are They important?

The 1930’s – it was the time of the Great Depression. With jobs scarce and tensions rising in Europe and the Pacific, many Americans turned to the military for employment. Because of the times, it was quite common for family members to enlist together and serve in the same infantry unit, or aboard the same ship. It made for a “touch of home” in an otherwise “non-homey” environment.

But this practice sometimes led to tragedy, none more tragic as was painfully demonstrated with the sinking of USS Juneau (CL-52), which killed all five Sullivan brothers. This was one of the incidents – but by no means the first – that led the United States to implement the Sole Survivor Policy.

Gold Star flag

The five Sullivan brothers, sons of Thomas and Alleta Sullivan of Waterloo, Iowa, were:

George Thomas Sullivan, 27, Gunner’s Mate Second;

Francis Henry “Frank” Sullivan, 26, Coxswain;

Joseph Eugene “Joe” Sullivan, 24, Seaman Second Class;

Madison Abel “Matt” Sullivan, 23, Seaman Second Class;

Albert Leo “Al” Sullivan, 20, Seaman Second Class.

The brothers joined the Navy to avenge the death of a friend, Bill Ball (their sister’s boyfriend), who was serving aboard the USS Arizona, when he was killed on December 7, 1941. The irony here is that Masten Ball, Bill’s brother, was also on the Arizona but survived – more on that…

The Sullivans enlisted January 3, 1942, with the stipulation that they serve together. In mid-1942, the Navy promulgated a policy of separating siblings, but this policy was not strictly enforced by any means. George and Frank had served in the Navy before, but their brothers had not. All five were assigned to the light cruiser USS Juneau.

During the naval Battle of Guadalcanal (November 13, 1942), Juneau was crippled by a Japanese torpedo. As Juneau was leaving the area with other surviving US warships, IJN submarine I-26, fired two torpedoes at the crippled heavy cruiser USS San Francisco. While they both missed their intended target, Juneau wasn’t so lucky. A torpedo hit the thinly armored light cruiser at or near the ammunition magazines, and the ship was instantly blown in half. Where seconds before a 541-foot-long cruiser had been, now there was nothing but an enormous cloud of smoke and debris. The Juneau disappeared from view and sank in less than 20 seconds.

Captain Gilbert C. Hoover, the senior officer of the US task force, doubted that anyone had survived the explosion and believed it would be reckless to look for survivors, for doing so would expose his wounded ships to a lurking Japanese submarine. Therefore, he ordered his ships to continue on towards Espiritu Santo, but Hoover had USS Helena signal a nearby US B-17 bomber on patrol to notify Allied headquarters to send aircraft or ships to search for survivors.

And there were survivors, approximately 100 of them. Unfortunately, the crew’s report of the location of possible survivors went unnoticed for several days before it was realized that a rescue mission had never been ordered. A belated air search began. During this time, the survivors of the sinking – many of whom were wounded and burned – were exposed to the elements, hunger, thirst, and shark attacks.

Eight days after the sinking, ten survivors were found by a PBY Catalina search aircraft and fished from the water. The survivors reported that Frank, Joe and Matt were all killed instantly, Al drowned the next day, and George survived for nearly a week, before suffering from delirium as a result of ingesting sea water. He climbed over the side of the raft and fell into the water, never to be seen again. In all, 10 men survived the sinking, but 687 did not.

Two months later, Tom and Alleta Sullivan were finally informed of their sons’ fate. That morning, as Tom was preparing to go to work, three men in uniform – a lieutenant commander, a doctor and a chief petty officer – approached his door. “I have some news for you about your boys,” the naval officer said. “Which one?” asked Tom. “I’m sorry”, the officer replied, “All five.”

The five Sullivan brothers – from left to right: Joe, Frank, Al, Matt, and George

The Sullivans were not the only brother sailors on board the ship. Records show at least thirty sets of brothers served on the Juneau. All died.

Even more astonishing were the 38 sets of brothers that served on the USS Arizona – including three sets of three brothers and a father-son set. Of the 79 siblings onboard the Arizona, 63 were killed and 23 complete sets of brothers were wiped out. Of the three sets of three brothers: the Beckers, the Dohertys, and the Murdocks, only one from each set survived, while the Warriners were the only set of USS Arizona brothers to survive. Of the father-son set, Thomas Free, and his son, William, both perished. The USS Oklahoma had 8 sets of brothers, including a set of three, the Barber boys. All three of the Barbers died at Pearl Harbor.

But the USN did not have a monopoly on siblings serving together, at the same time, same unit, or same theater of operations. Before the Sole Survivor Policy was officially implemented in 1948, several occasions occurred when sole survivors were excused from active service:

The Borgstroms, of Thatcher Utah, were four American brothers (including a set of twins) killed over a six-month period during World War II:

Clyde Eugene Borgstrom, 28, killed March 17, 1944, in Guadalcanal, U.S. Marine Corps;

LeRoy Elmer Borgstrom, 30, killed June 22, 1944, in Italy, U.S. Army;

Rolon Day Borgstrom, 19, killed August 8, 1944, in Yaxham, England), U.S. Army Air Forces;

Rulon Jay Borgstrom, 19, killed August 25, 1944, in France, U.S. Army.

Their parents successfully petitioned for their fifth son Boyd, who was also on active duty, to be released from service. Their sixth son, Elton, who had not yet reached conscription age, was exempted from the military.

The three Butehorn brothers of Bethpage, New York, Charles, Joseph, and Henry, were all deployed during World War II. Charles was killed in action in France (November 1944) and Joseph was killed in action in the Pacific (May 1945). The War Department ordered Henry, who was serving with the USAAF in Italy, home.

In the case of the Niland brothers, G-2 believed that all but one of four siblings were killed in action (although the eldest brother, Edward Niland, serving in the USAAF, was later found to have been a POW in Burma). Steven Spielberg’s film “Saving Private Ryan” was loosely based on the story of the Niland brothers.

The Borgstrom, Butehorn, and Niland stories occurred before the Sole Survivor Policy was put into effect in 1948, but it’s their stories, and the stories of the siblings killed on the Arizona, along with the 60 sibling deaths of the crew of the Juneau – which included the five Sullivan brothers – that pushed the services to actively enforce of Sole Survivor Policy.

Per Wikipedia:

“The Sole Survivor Policy or United States Department of Defense Directive 1315.15 (a.k.a. “Special Separation Policies for Survivorship”) is a set of regulations in the United States military, partially stipulated by law, designed to protect members of a family from the draft during peacetime, or from hazardous duty or other circumstances, if they have already lost family members to military service.” However, the policy does not prevent the excused family member from reenlisting.

——————————————————–

Coming full circle to close our story, on Saturday, March 17, 2018, the wreckage of the USS Juneau was discovered off the coast of the Solomon Islands by the expedition crew of RV Petrel:

USS Juneau, March, 2018

May all your shipmates rest in peace

The Daily Shorpy

How do you think the US and China negotiations on fentanyl trafficking will turn out?

Question: How do you think the US and China negotiations on fentanyl trafficking will turn out?

Answer:

Nothing will come out of it.

Because the entire “China and fentanyl” thing started from a single post back in 2018 from a Mexico port about how they suspect a shipment from China contains fentanyl precursors materials.

For the chemistry illiterate, any material that goes into making actual fentanyl family of drugs can be called precursors. An extreme example will be water can technically be count as a fentanyl precursor because water is used in most chemical manufacturing process.

And I bolded the “suspect” part because later the Mexico site took down their post, because the Chinese reacted immediately after the possibility of drugs. If those that don’t know, China has one of the most strict drug laws on the planet, so any time there is a possibility of drug smuggling, there is a huge investigation towards it.

However, US government seized the (now taken down) post from Mexico as a life line to explain away the rampant drug problem within US. Apparently it has nothing to do with the whole drug infested culture in US since the 19th century, it is all China’s fault.

So the talks will result in nothing. Both China and US government already know China has nothing to do with the issue. The entire thing is a show for US voting audience.

Americans Have LOST ALL FAITH in the Job Market, and Don’t Want to Work Anymore.

The Biosphere Project

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

Stepping out of her car, Sarah adjusted her notepad and checked her camera equipment. She was prepared to document every detail, determined to expose any wrongdoing that may be lurking behind the lab’s fortified walls. A security guard approached her, scrutinizing her identification before finally granting her access.

Inside the facility, Sarah was guided through a maze-like corridor, taking note of the reinforced doors and surveillance cameras at every turn. The atmosphere was tense, with scientists in white lab coats scurrying about, engrossed in their work. The air carried a distinct smell of chemicals, hinting at the complex experiments being conducted.

Her guide led her into a spacious laboratory filled with state-of-the-art equipment. Sarah’s eyes widened as she observed the rows of high-tech machinery, each with its own purpose and intricate design. She struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what was being developed here.

Dr. Rachel Lawson, the lead researcher, greeted Sarah with a warm smile. “Welcome, Sarah. We’re delighted to have you here today. I hope you’re ready to witness something truly groundbreaking.”

Sarah reciprocated the smile, her curiosity piqued. “Thank you, Dr. Lawson. I’ve heard so much about the work conducted here. I’m eager to know more.”

“Follow me,” Dr. Lawson said, leading Sarah toward a sealed chamber at the far end of the laboratory. The security measures surrounding it were seemingly impenetrable, indicating the significance of whatever lay within.

As they reached the chamber, Dr. Lawson scanned her identification card, and the heavy doors hissed open, revealing a sight that left Sarah speechless. Inside the room was a massive enclosure containing a lush, verdant landscape. Towering trees, vibrant flowers, and a winding river coexisted within the glass walls, creating an ethereal oasis in the midst of the sterile lab environment.

Sarah’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What is…? How is this possible?”

Dr. Lawson beamed with pride. “Welcome to our Biosphere Project, Sarah. We have developed a revolutionary system that replicates entire ecosystems within a controlled environment. It’s a breakthrough in sustainable agriculture and biodiversity conservation.”

Sarah’s mind raced, realizing the potential impact of this discovery. “This could change everything! The possibilities for food production and environmental conservation are immense. Why hasn’t this been made public?”

Dr. Lawson’s expression turned somber. “The project was classified due to the potential misuse of such technology. We wanted to ensure its safety and ethical use before revealing it to the world.”

Sarah’s journalistic instincts kicked in. “But what kind of misuse are we talking about? Are there any risks associated with this project?”

Dr. Lawson sighed, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and responsibility. “There are several potential misuses we have considered. One of the key concerns is the possibility of using the Biosphere Project to create controlled environments for the development of dangerous biological weapons. The ability to sustain life within enclosed ecosystems could be exploited to cultivate and engineer deadly pathogens, posing a grave threat to global security.”

Sarah’s mind raced, realizing the magnitude of the situation. “So, the secrecy surrounding the project was to prevent such misuse?”

“Yes,” Dr. Lawson confirmed. “In the wrong hands, the Biosphere Project could unleash unimaginable devastation. We had to ensure that the technology was fully developed, with safeguards in place, before considering its release to the public.”

Sarah’s journalistic instincts kicked into high gear. “Dr. Lawson, the world deserves to know about this project. Its potential benefits are immense, but the risks must be brought to light as well. We need transparency to prevent any clandestine misuse.”

Dr. Lawson nodded in agreement. “You’re right, Sarah. We have been deliberating on the best way to strike a balance between sharing the breakthrough and addressing the risks. We understand the importance of public awareness, but we must also proceed with caution.”

Sarah contemplated the situation, realizing the weight of responsibility that rested on her shoulders. She knew she had the power to expose the truth, but she also had to be mindful of the potential consequences. After a moment of reflection, she made up her mind.

“Dr. Lawson, I would like to collaborate with you on this. Let us work together to devise a plan that ensures the responsible disclosure of the Biosphere Project. We must inform the public about its potential benefits and the risks it carries. By doing so, we can foster a global dialogue and ensure that this groundbreaking technology is used for the betterment of humanity.”

Dr. Lawson’s eyes shimmered with gratitude. “Thank you, Sarah. Your willingness to approach this with caution and responsibility reassures me. Together, we can make a difference and shape the future of this remarkable project.”

Over the following weeks, Sarah and Dr. Lawson collaborated closely, carefully crafting a strategy to share the story of the Biosphere Project with the world. They engaged in extensive discussions, consulting with experts in various fields, assessing the potential risks and benefits, and establishing frameworks to ensure the technology’s responsible use.

Finally, the day arrived when Sarah’s exposé on the Biosphere Project was published. The article detailed the groundbreaking technology, its potential benefits for sustainable agriculture and biodiversity, and the risks associated with its misuse. It ignited a global conversation, prompting governments, scientific communities, and environmental organizations to come together and establish regulations and oversight mechanisms to safeguard the technology’s ethical use.

The public’s response was overwhelming. Many were captivated by the possibilities the Biosphere Project presented, while others expressed concerns about its potential risks. Yet, the conversation fostered by Sarah’s article allowed for a balanced and informed dialogue, leading to a collective commitment to responsible innovation.

As time progressed, the Biosphere Project was gradually integrated into society, with stringent regulations in place to ensure its ethical use. It revolutionized agriculture, enabling sustainable food production in regions affected by droughts, extreme temperatures, or limited arable land. It played a crucial role in conserving endangered ecosystems, allowing scientists to study and protect fragile species within controlled environments.

Sarah’s collaboration with Dr. Lawson continued beyond the publication of her groundbreaking article. The two worked tirelessly to address the concerns raised by the public and to refine the regulations governing the Biosphere Project. They became advocates for responsible innovation, traveling the world to speak at conferences and engaging with policymakers, scientists, and environmentalists.

Their efforts led to the establishment of an international committee dedicated to monitoring and regulating the use of biosphere technology. This committee consisted of experts from various fields who worked together to ensure that the Biosphere Project was used solely for peaceful and beneficial purposes.

Under the committee’s oversight, the Biosphere Project flourished. It continued to enhance food production and conservation efforts, transforming arid regions into thriving agricultural centers and contributing to the preservation of endangered species and habitats.

Sarah and Dr. Lawson’s collaboration also sparked interest from other scientific communities and research institutions. They began to share their knowledge and expertise, collaborating on similar projects around the world. This global collaboration further advanced the field of biosphere technology, expanding its applications and ensuring that the benefits reached far beyond the walls of the original research facility.

As the years passed, the Biosphere Project became a symbol of responsible innovation and the power of transparency. The public’s trust in the technology grew, and the regulations and oversight mechanisms put in place served as a model for other groundbreaking scientific advancements.

Sarah and Dr. Lawson’s efforts were recognized with numerous awards and accolades. They were hailed as pioneers who had not only uncovered a remarkable breakthrough but had also navigated the delicate balance between progress and caution.

Sarah’s experience with the Biosphere Project had a profound impact on her as a journalist. She realized the importance of responsible reporting, understanding the potential consequences of revealing groundbreaking technologies without careful consideration of their risks. She became an advocate for responsible journalism and used her platform to raise awareness about the ethical implications of scientific advancements.

Dr. Lawson’s dedication to the Biosphere Project never wavered. She continued to lead research and development efforts, ensuring that the technology evolved responsibly and with the utmost regard for the environment and humanity’s well-being.

The legacy of the Biosphere Project lived on, not only in its contributions to sustainable agriculture and conservation but also in the lessons it taught about responsible innovation. It served as a reminder that groundbreaking discoveries could shape the world positively, but their potential risks must be addressed proactively.

Sarah Mitchell and Dr. Rachel Lawson’s collaboration became a symbol of the power of partnership and the importance of ethical decision-making in the face of groundbreaking scientific advancements. Their story inspired countless others to approach innovation with responsibility, shaping a future where progress and humanity’s welfare walked hand in hand.

False Flag For War in South Korea Coup

Carl Zha speaks to ‪@JamarlThomas‬ about insane details coming out of South Korean coup investigation including allegations of South Korean military to stage a false flag attack against South Korean Parliament.

This was apparently done in order to provoke a military confrontation with North Korea in order to justify imposing Martial Law.

And this is why South Korean Parliament have impeached the President and Acting President of South Korea

What is the most chilling missing persons case you have ever seen?

Let’s not get into the “ever” part simply because I’m a cop.

we, the cops, see things every day that trump whatever we’ve experienced before. Human dignity keeps hitting new lows for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend.

Just three days ago, we arrested a guy because we suspected he might have something to do with the sudden disappearance of his cousin, a young, well-off businessman who had seemingly vanished into thin air. The suspect, a butcher, was the last known person to have been in contact with him according to the investigation.

During questioning, he confessed.

He had called his cousin over to his house and, once he arrived, shot and killed him. The motive? Money. Plain greed.

If you’re wondering where the chilling part is—come on. Isn’t murder already a gruesome and chilling act on its own?

Well, here’s where it gets worse. After killing his cousin, the suspect dismembered the body, put the pieces in a very large karahi (wok), and melted them over a fire using chemicals. Once the remains had turned into liquid, he discarded it in an empty plot.

So, that was just three days ago. By no means is this the most chilling case, but what a disgraceful disregard for human life.

A continuous, soul-draining pattern of evil people doing unspeakable things.

Hawaiian Chicken Wreath

Ingredients

• 2 (8 ounce) cans refrigerated crescent rolls
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 3 tablespoons honey mustard
• 1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
• 2 cups (about 12 ounces) cooked chicken, chopped
• 1/2 cup celery, sliced
• 3 tablespoons fresh parsley, snipped
• 1/2 cup pineapple slices (about 4 slices), + 2 for garnish
• 4 ounces (1 cup) Cheddar cheese, shredded
• 1/4 cup macadamia nuts chopped
• 1 egg, separated

Instructions

1. Heat oven to375 degrees F.
2. Unroll crescent dough; separate into 16 triangles. With wide ends of triangles toward the center, arrange 8 triangles in a circle on Large Round Stone. Corners of wide ends will touch and points will extend 1 inch beyond edge of Baking Stone. Arrange remaining 8 triangles in center, matching wide ends. Seal seams using Dough and Pizza Roller. (Points will overlap in center; do not seal.)
3. Measure mayonnaise, mustard, and black pepper into Classic Batter Bowl. Chop chicken, using Food Chopper. Slice celery using Chef’s Knife. Snip parsley using Kitchen Shears. Add chicken, celery, parsley, and pineapple to Batter Bowl. Grate cheese into Batter Bowl using Deluxe Cheese Grater. Mix filling using Mix ‘ N Scraper®. Using Medium Scoop, scoop filling over seams of dough, forming a circle.
4. Coarsely chop nuts using Food Chopper; sprinkle over filling. Beginning in center, lift one dough triangle across mixture. Continue alternating with outer triangles, slightly overlapping to form wreath. Tuck last end under first.
5. Separate egg over Small Batter Bowl using Egg Separator. Beat egg white lightly; brush over dough, using Pastry Brush.
6. Bake 25 to 30 minutes or until golden brown.
7. Cut and serve using Slice ‘N Serve®.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Great Rutabaga Ruckus

Ah, dear reader! Welcome back to another chapter in the illustrious chronicles of yours truly, Sir Whiskerton, the farm’s finest (and let’s face it, only) detective. Today’s tale is one of high stakes, scandalous accusations, and a vegetable so prized that its disappearance had the entire farm in an uproar. Yes, I’m talking about Farmer Joe’s prized rutabaga. This particular root vegetable was not just any rutabaga—it was destined for the county fair, where it was sure to win first prize. Its sudden disappearance rocked the farm to its core, and the case brought together an unlikely team of suspects, allies, and more mud than I care to recount. Prepare yourself for The Great Rutabaga Ruckus.

The Disappearance

The morning began with a commotion so loud it rattled the barn walls. I had just settled into my favorite sunbeam for a mid-morning nap when I heard Farmer Joe yelling from the garden.

“MY RUTABAGA! IT’S GONE!”

I sighed, stretching as I reluctantly rose to my paws. A missing vegetable. Hardly the kind of case that gets my pulse racing, but then again, life on the farm is rarely boring. I trotted over to the garden, where Farmer Joe was frantically searching through the rows of vegetables. The prize rutabaga’s spot was empty—just a small pile of disturbed soil where it had once proudly rested.

“Scandalous,” I muttered to myself. “Who would dare commit such a heinous crime?”

It wasn’t long before the rest of the farm animals had gathered to speculate. Among them were Porkchop the pig (looking suspiciously sweaty), Rufus the raccoon (looking suspiciously smug), and Sedgwick the barn owl (looking suspiciously calm, as always).

The Accusations Begin

“I’ll tell you who took it!” Porkchop declared, pointing a muddy hoof at Rufus. “It was him! That sneaky raccoon can’t resist stealing food. Everyone knows that!”

“Me?!” Rufus exclaimed, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally offended. “I didn’t take your precious rutabaga! I’m not even a root vegetable kind of guy. Too earthy. I prefer sweet stuff, like berries… or honey.”

“Don’t look at me,” Porkchop huffed, his snout twitching. “I don’t even like rutabagas. Carrots, now that’s a different story, but rutabagas? No thanks.”

“Hmm,” Sedgwick said, perched on a nearby fence post. “Both of you seem eager to deny your involvement. Curious.”

“Do you think I took it?” Porkchop squealed. “I’m offended! I’m a pig of integrity!”

“Integrity? Please,” Rufus snorted. “I saw you sniffing around the garden yesterday, looking awfully interested in that rutabaga.”

“That doesn’t mean I took it!” Porkchop snapped. “I was just admiring it!”

“Enough,” I said, stepping forward and flicking my tail for emphasis. “This bickering isn’t helping. If we’re going to solve this mystery, we’ll need to investigate properly.”

The Investigation Begins

I started by examining the scene of the crime. The soil where the rutabaga had been planted was freshly disturbed, and there were faint marks in the dirt leading away from the garden.

“Tracks,” I said, crouching low to inspect them. “But they’re too small for Porkchop’s hooves and too wide for Rufus’s paws.”

Sedgwick swooped down from his perch to examine the tracks more closely. “These appear to be bird tracks,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps a goose or a large duck?”

“Could it be Gladys the goose?” I wondered aloud, remembering her flair for drama from our last adventure.

“She does have a talent for causing trouble,” Sedgwick admitted. “But let’s not jump to conclusions. We should follow the trail.”

The Trail Leads to Trouble

The tracks led us through the orchard, where Rufus took the opportunity to climb a tree and snack on an apple. “You know,” he said between bites, “if I had taken the rutabaga, I wouldn’t have left such an obvious trail. Whoever did this isn’t very good at being sneaky.”

“Or they didn’t care about being sneaky,” Sedgwick countered. “Perhaps they assumed no one would investigate.”

“Can we focus, please?” I said, my patience wearing thin. “The tracks lead to the barn. Let’s see what we find there.”

As we approached the barn, Porkchop began to look increasingly nervous. “Uh, you don’t think the thief is in the barn, do you? What if it’s… dangerous?”

“Dangerous?” Rufus laughed. “We’re looking for a vegetable thief, not a monster.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Porkchop muttered. “You’re not the one who has to sleep in there.”

The Culprit Revealed

Inside the barn, the tracks led us to a pile of hay in the corner. Sedgwick flapped onto a nearby beam for a better view, while Rufus and I cautiously approached the haystack.

“Something’s moving in there,” Rufus whispered, his eyes wide.

“Only one way to find out,” I said. With a swift paw swipe, I pulled back the hay to reveal… a family of rabbits!

The rabbits froze, their eyes wide with guilt. In the middle of their little nest was the missing rutabaga, half-eaten and surrounded by bits of straw.

“Well, well,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “It seems we’ve found our culprits.”

The largest rabbit—a scruffy fellow with one floppy ear—stepped forward and bowed his head. “We’re sorry,” he said. “We didn’t mean to cause trouble. We just… we couldn’t resist. It smelled so delicious, and we were so hungry…”

Sedgwick, ever the voice of reason, spoke gently. “While stealing is not the answer, I understand your plight. Perhaps we can find a solution that helps everyone.”

The Resolution

After some discussion (and a lot of clucking from the hens, who had somehow arrived to witness the drama), we decided to let the rabbits keep the remaining rutabaga. Farmer Joe, though disappointed, agreed to plant extra vegetables next season to ensure there was enough for everyone—humans and animals alike.

As for Porkchop and Rufus, they begrudgingly apologized to each other for their accusations, though I suspect their rivalry is far from over.

“I still think it’s suspicious how much Porkchop likes to hang around the garden,” Rufus muttered.

“And I still think you’re too sneaky for your own good,” Porkchop retorted.

“Enough, you two,” I said with a sigh. “The case is closed, and justice has been served. Let’s all try to get along, shall we?”

The Moral of the Story

Sometimes, misunderstandings can lead to unnecessary conflict, but with a little patience and understanding, even the biggest disagreements can be resolved. And remember: sharing is always better than stealing—even if it’s a prize rutabaga.

The End.

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