My rules for losing weight

Commercial technology refers to various technologies specifically used in the commodity circulation process, which cannot be converted into military advantages.

But China’s massive industrial clusters could translate into military advantages.

Let me give you a small example:

The profit margin of ammunition is very thin, but the usage is very large. American capitalists disdain low-profit industries and turn to high-profit industries.

The United States uses 2.4 billion bullets every year (including military and civilian), of which 1.4 billion are produced in the United States, and the other 1 billion are imported from China.

If a war breaks out between China and the United States and China stops exporting ammunition to the United States, China will gain 1 billion rounds of ammunition and the United States will lose 1 billion rounds of ammunition. In addition, the production capacity of China’s military factories will increase exponentially during wartime.

Trump Ready To ANNEX Canada!

China Cancels ALL **LNG** Purchases from USA – SEC to “De-List” China Companies from Stock markets

China has just CANCELED purchases of Liquified Natural Gas from the United States; opting instead to buy it from Australia.

In the past, the U.S. sold 4.16 Million Tons of LNG to China.

Now, all that gas is available for purchase here in the United States, which __should__ bring down prices to heat homes that use such gas.   (Note: My country home uses Propane because rural communities do not have Gas-main pipelines.)

MORE:

Also, the Securities Exchange Commission (SEC) is reportedly moving to De-List about $800 Billion of Chinese Publicly-traded Companies from U.S. Stock Markets.

No word yet on precisely which such companies, but it may just be ALL of them.

It wasn’t an accident but it changed the way I looked at my father.

My oldest brother and I hadn’t been close growing up because he was several years older than me but we reconnected the year before he died of cancer. We shared a lot of good times just reminiscing and enjoying our time together. We both knew it wouldn’t be long enough. One day he looked over at me and said “Did you know I’m not really your brother?” I just shook my head in confusion. He told me that when he was going through our parents’ papers he found out he had a different father than the rest of the kids in our family. He then asked me how I felt about that. I told him the truth, that as far as I was concerned he was my brother and I hoped he felt the same way. He seemed relieved and glad he got that out in the open. He also said he had no interest in finding out who his “real” father was. The next spring he gave up his long fight with cancer.

It didn’t change the way I felt about him but it got me thinking. I knew that my parents were very young when they got married. My mother was 15 and my father was 18. I also knew that my mother was pregnant at the wedding (you could just do the math). What I didn’t know was that my father knew it wasn’t his child when they got married. He never said anything to anyone about it and I never saw him treat my brother any differently than any of his other children.

I had a new respect for my father after that.

Florentine Brunch Casserole

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5854003c469e5d94827761d7932741cb

Yield: 8 servings or 16 sample servings

Ingredients

  • 16 slices firm white bread
  • 3 tablespoons butter or margarine, divided
  • 1 (10 3/4 ounce) can condensed cream of celery soup
  • 1/3 cup milk
  • 1/4 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
  • 1/3 cup onion, chopped
  • 4 ounces baked ham, diced (about 1/2 cup)
  • 1 red bell pepper, diced (about 1 cup)
  • 10 eggs, lightly beaten
  • 4 ounces Cheddar cheese, shredded, divided (1 cup)
  • 1 (5 ounce) bag fresh spinach leaves, washed and stemmed

Instructions

  1. Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
  2. Cut crusts off bread using Serrated Bread Knife; cube crusts and measure 2 cups. Arrange bread slices in an overlapping pattern against sides of Oval Baker; place bread cubes in bottom.
  3. Microwave 2 tablespoons of the butter in Small Micro-Cooker on HIGH 30 seconds or until melted; lightly brush over bread slices using Pastry Brush. Bake 15 to 20 minutes or until edges of bread are golden brown.
  4. Meanwhile, in Small Batter Bowl, whisk soup, milk and black pepper until smooth using Stainless Steel Whisk.
  5. Finely chop onion using Food Chopper.
  6. Dice ham and bell pepper using Chef’s Knife. Melt remaining butter in Stir-Fry Skillet over medium heat; add onion and bell pepper. Cook 5 minutes or until vegetables are tender; stir in ham.
  7. Whisk eggs in Classic Batter Bowl; add to Skillet. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally with Classic Scraper, until eggs are set but still moist.
  8. Stir in soup mixture; cook 1 minute or until hot.
  9. Using Deluxe Cheese Grater, grate cheese. Gently stir in 3/4 cup of the cheese. Fold spinach into egg mixture, half at a time. Cook about 2 minutes, stirring gently until spinach is wilted.
  10. Spoon egg mixture into center of Baker, mounding slightly in center. Top with remaining 1/4 cup cheese.
  11. Serve immediately using Nylon Spoon.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

American here; I was nearly killed in a multicar accident when I was 25. Guess how long I had to wait for an important surgery to repair my damaged leg?

One Year. I had to wait just over one year to get the surgery I needed, because I wanted an experienced surgeon to do it. It took one entire year to get on his surgical schedule, have my insurance agree to pay for it, etc. It was, at the time, a new corrective procedure and a lot of people wanted to have it done, but it isn’t performed that often now because it takes so much time for the patient to be rehabilitated (2+ years of physical therapy.)

So don’t tell me that there aren’t long waiting times to get treatment in the U.S. Because there definitely are.

Oh, and that doesn’t include the five months from the day I called that surgeon’s office until my first appointment with him. Or the six months of tests and x-rays/ MRIs, etc. before he agreed to perform the surgery.

When one of my doctors took an abrupt retirement and closed his practice, I had to find a replacent ASAP (along with all his other patients). Finding someone willing to see me was a nightmare (they had too many patients already or didn’t accept my insurance or whatever). It took me six months to get an initial consultation with a new doctor – time I spent with no one to prescribe the maintenance medications I took daily.

Thank God that I had/ have really, really good health insurance through my employer or I would still be in a wheelchair! But even then, dealing with the insurance was a nightmare.

But if I lived in a country with universal health care I would have been moved to the head of the line because my injuries were so bad.

So, “USA! USA!” I guess.

As China Orders Its Banks To Cancel USD Buying, Spain Makes A Dramatic Pivot To Beijing

Jesus H. Christ.

The bullshit out of Washington DC is so thick.  Bessent is such a tool.

What will America do about this?

Americans will talk about how they will start mining their own minerals or get the from somewhere else. They will say this as if they live in a Command and Conquer economy where if they press a button pay some money it will appear. This ignores the fact that it requires massive investment, time, skills to build such an industry.

Think about this. This is a 155mm artillery shell.

It’s comparatively simple. The US talked big about increasing production of 155mm shells. Guess what it didn’t happen! You see capitalism or the system pretending to be capitalism in the USA means that all factories run at maximum capacity at all times. It’s not just a case of running more shifts, if you were not running at 100% capacity then you’re not leveraging your Return on capital employed (RoCE).

Lets think of something even simpler!

You can make 1000 of those in an hour. Demand is 1200. To increase production by +200, you need more staff (not that difficult to train) and also need more grills. So you can just buy some more grills right? No, why not because in capitalism ALL industries run at 100% meaning the grill suppliers won’t be able to provide something immediately and they’ll have to wait.

So? Trump won’t be in power by 2030 and massive mega investment is needed, are you going to risk that?

On top of this China might decide to bankrupt you like the US and Europe bankrupts farmers. Huh?

Simpsons. Lisa and a partner spend millions on making an alternative Doll. Lisa Lionheart. Malibu Stacy simply decide to release a new doll with a new hat.

So China watches you build your new plant and machinery to mine rare earths. Oh hey here we’ll sell them for a low price again! Those US miners go bust and once that happens prices get jacked up again?

Evil? This is exactly what US food aid did. Cheap US grain bankrupted African farmers. Once they were no longer self sufficient? Prices were jacked up. Once African farmers started growing their own? The US grain prices were dropped to bankrupt those farmers.

So many I can’t count but 2 that come to mind in our factory.

The first; I walked up on an employee and saw that he was wearing cotton gloves while running a 40″, 5 hp standing disc sander.
The danger is that if the cloth gove touches the disc you hand will be gone in a millisecond!
You can only wear smooth leather gloves running that machine as those will not snag on the abrasive disc.
This despite our giving them demonstrations of what happens if a cloth glove touches the disc.

#2 Is somewhat similar.
I caught an employee running a lathe wearing loose fitting jacket that wasn’t even zipped up.
If that jacket caught on the spinning part in the lathe it will eat you in a heartbeat and spit out nothing but bits and pieces and there is no way you could hit the E-brake pedal before you were consumed by the machine.

We were once admonished by an inspection for our machine shop not being wheelchair and disabled friendly and not having a proper disabled bathroom in the machine shop area.
Sorry but there is no place for wheelchairs or disabled persons in a working machine shop.
That’s not prejudice, that’s common sense!
When bad things happen in machine shops they happen fast and machines don’t care what they cut or who is in the way.

~Other Worlds~

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist. view prompt

Jim Parker

~ Other Worlds ~

Wisty removed her prosthetic hand and placed it on the seat. She had it on for the last two days and it was wearing on her. Then turned to Shewuma and asked, “So. Chieftess?”

Wu hopped up next to her and sat cross-legged. “My father was chief, and my twin brother and I were his only children. But we had the sacred lineage and were turned. We both had to give it up.”

“Do you regret it?”

Wu thought about her life and smiled. “No, not at all. I had Enoch. Now I have Debbie and Jimmy and David E. and Tippycat and the rest of the family. And now I have you. Do you regret being a witch?”

Wisty sat up straight. “No. I can’t regret doing what I was born to do.”

“Bingo,” Shewuma responded.

“How did you meet Jimmy and Debbie?”

Wu grinned and patted Wisty’s arm. “You’re going to love this story. Then you can tell me all about how Jimmy and Debbie are on their way to save the world. I miss them so much.” The stolen school bus of Hopi Indian Spirit Warriors and Wisty the witch drove through the night followed by David E. and the Wolf in Wisty’s Dodge Dart, while Wisty and Wu got to know each other. Whew! What a day. What a year. They were on a long and treacherous road, but things were finally coming together. Today life was good. They only stopped once at a rest area as dawn was breaking so everyone could pee.

 

Luce parked the bus in Corrine’s driveway right behind David E. and Wolf in the dodge. She pulled the lever to open the side doors just as David E. walked up accompanied by Wolf.

“Wolf!” hollered Wu.

He stuck his head in. “Yes, Chieftess.”

“This forest is teeming with game. Go get us a deer or a feral hog. Be discreet. There’s a Trans Am by the barn. My bow is in the trunk. Spare keys inside the gas tank flap. Take one hind leg and give it to Daniel and Corrine the owners, and we’ll eat the rest. Luce.”

“Yes, Chieftess.”

“There are chickens out back. Gather the eggs. Find the kitchen and I’ll meet you there to make some food.” Then she stood up facing the back of the bus and addressed her crew of Hopi Kachinas. “The house is big inside and there’s a barn and a shed out back. The Eagle will help everyone get settled. We may be here for a few days. We’re near Choctaw land, so everyone be respectful. And when ….” Wu stopped talking and was peering through the windshield.

David E. stopped his doting on Wisty and looked to see what was up. Daniel was running across the yard toward the bus. His face was somber. Wu could already smell his anxiety. “Something’s wrong,” said Wu and ran out to meet him.

When she reached him, he said, “It’s Dermott.”

Wu cut him off. “Where?”

“The loft.” In a blur she was gone.

David E. and Wisty came up and asked Daniel what was wrong. They turned and hurried to the house. “It’s Dermott. We found him. He’s bad. It’s like he’s sick and he’s unconscious.”

Wisty broke into a trot. “Let’s hurry!” David E. brought up the rear, limping as fast as his cane would take him.

Wisty entered the loft and saw Dermott on the loveseat in a fetal position. He was pale, shaking, and unconscious. Shewuma hovered over him, checking his temperature and trying to bring him around.

Corrine stood by, hands clasped and lips moving. Wisty realized she was praying. She asked Corrine, “What happened?”

Corrine was clearly shaken as she related the events of the past hour. “Dermott had been remote viewing Jimmy and Debbie all morning, keeping an eye on them. I was in the kitchen when Dermott called my name. I said, ‘What?’ Then he screamed. It sounded excruciating. It made my skin crawl. Daniel and I ran up the stairs and he was on the floor squirming and rolling back and forth. He seemed in agony. Then he just curled up. We put him on the loveseat. Daniel has been trying to call you guys since it happened. I’ve been here with him the whole time. I was about to call 911.”

Shewuma said, “911 can’t help him.”

“Yes,” Wisty agreed. “I don’t think it’s physical either.”

Corrine choked up and lost her train of thought. Daniel put his arm around her and continued, “The dogs all started barking so I went outside and saw you guys driving up.”

Wu checked Dermott’s pulse. “How long ago did this happen?”

“About a half hour ago. Maybe more,” said Daniel.

Wisty pulled up his “Hitman” T-shirt and put two fingers on his third chakra near the solar plexus. As soon as Wisty touched his skin, she snatched her hand back as if receiving an electric shock. “Shewuma, he’s under psychic attack. There’s not much time.” Wisty spun the office chair around and sat down. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped down as if instantly falling asleep.

“Psychic attack?” asked Corrine.

Wu set her jaw. Her mind was racing as she explained. “Someone is trying to kill his soul.”

“Kill his soul,” Corrine softly repeated to herself.

Shewuma ran to the railing. “LUCE!”

Luce stepped out of the kitchen. “I’m here, Chieftess.”

“I need the Eagle. Now! Stay with Corrine and help her with this boy.”

“Yes, Chieftess,” and she ran to the back door.

Wu wanted the Eagle there. Besides his Kachina training, the Eagle was a gifted medicine man and had worked extensively with Mystic Devas in Northern Asia. He could be of great value in such a potentially dangerous situation. She turned to Daniel. “In my closet is a plastic trash can of different plants. Are you familiar with Mugwort?”

“No. What does it look like?”

“Never mind. Just bring it all. Spread it around him. Understand? Just spread it on the floor. GO!” And he went. Mugwort was used by witches for its protection and healing properties. In psychic warfare, any edge could mean the difference. “Corrine,” she said as she took her by the shoulders to get her full attention, “I need your nurse training now.”

Corrine shook out the cobwebs and steeled herself. “What? Anything.”

Shewuma wrapped her arms around herself, let out a deep breath, and said, “Don’t let him die.” Then she collapsed to the floor on her knees.

 

Wisty had never left her body so quickly and felt disoriented. But the globules of light dancing on her skin and the glistening hands flexing at the end of her arms told her she was in her etheric body. The twinkling astral landscape was empty. Somehow she was alone on this plane. She pictured Dermott in her mind and willed herself to his presence. But nothing happened. She spoke his name and said a spell to bring his soul to her. It too was unsuccessful. Even in otherworldly planes there was a natural order and rules of governance. There had to be powerful forces at work to suspend the natural law of her magiks. She wondered how she could find him. Then an idea came to her. Willing an opening of a portal to the physical world, she passed through it into the loft at Corrine’s house. In this state she would be invisible to them. But no matter. It was Dermott she wanted. On the floor sitting back on her heels, Shewuma was in a trance. There were stems and leaves scattered around the floor. It smelled familiar. Of course. Mugwort. Good thinking, Shewuma. Wisty felt its properties enhancing her psychic defenses. Then she saw Corrine and Luce performing CPR on Dermott’s now lifeless body. Time was short and she couldn’t afford to get rattled, so she buried her emotions and remained focused. There was one sure way to find him. She searched for the Sutratma, or life thread. It connected his physical body to his lifeforce in the astral world. Instead of a silvery gleaming cord flowing from his midsection, she found a black brittle fiber pulling violently at his abdomen and extending through a dark hole. That was her best chance. Wisty took hold of the corrupted lifeline and followed it into the blackness. Descending, always descending into the lowest depths of the astral planes. It was not safe this deep even for someone with her knowledge and experience. Many an astral traveler had ventured too far into the lowest realms only to be possessed, driven mad, or lost forever. There was a faint light in the distance. As she came closer, she could see it was Dermott. For the first time in all her considerable experience of astral projecting, Wisty was afraid. Dermott was being attacked by a group of what she called astral wildlife. Nasty creatures of the lower realms whose sole purpose was to savage or steal the life force of others. But this scenario was impossible. Astral vermin hated each other as much as they hated everything else. They would attack anything on sight, even their own kind. Yet these monsters were working together. Ugly, harpy beasts tore at his astral flesh and sucked at his soul while rat-like parasites had severed his life cord and gnawed at the remains that trailed from him. His physical body was dead now and his soul would soon be lost as well, floating through this accursed place until it was consumed entirely. She visualized herself surrounded by love and light, building a psychic shield, and went to him. The vermin seemed appalled by her presence, but they were not repelled by her defensive sphere as she expected. Dermott’s eyes were wild and pleading for help. She grabbed a harpy that had its claws sunk deep in Dermott’s shoulder. They were small but powerful beings. Finally wrenching it loose, she hurled it into the darkness, then wrapped her arms around Dermott’s neck and held on desperately. To let go would be the end of his existence. Kicking at the vermin had little effect and she didn’t know how else to fight them. Soon the harpies were attacking her as well, ripping at her astral flesh and stealing bits of her lifeforce. The rats left Dermott and moved on to her life thread. Her silver cord turned gray and began to splinter as the parasites viciously gnawed at it with their grating teeth. There was a chance, but it was a longshot and very dangerous. Besides, she needed her arms to do it and to let go of Dermott would be his end. She had grown weak and was losing focus. Thinking of David E., she called his name out loud.

Just as all seemed lost, one of the harpies screeched a hellish noise and his body burst into flames. Then it dissipated into nothing. Wisty looked up and in the distance like a glorious angel, Shewuma approached, shining with a golden sheen. In her left hand she held a bow of white light. She fired a rapid succession of blinding arrows until all the astral atrocities were ended. Wisty’s strength was spent, and her life thread was now a piece of frayed string.

“Hold on. I’m coming.” Shewuma said to her mind. But Shewuma wasn’t going to make it. They both heard it. A vociferous rumbling buzz rolled through the darkness, filling them with dread. Shewuma could see it now. A horde of evil astral beings. Thousands of negative entities approaching them like a demonic wave. They were called Negs in Kachina lore. Shewuma spent many years training to navigate other worldly realms, deal with spirit entities, defend herself psychically, and fight Negs in the astral world. But this was beyond anything she was ever taught. She knew she couldn’t possibly win. There were too many. But they would pay a heavy price. The bow in her left hand and the arrow in her right hand both became flaming swords. “Keep your faith,” she said out loud and spoke a Hopi prayer of bravery. Then a bubble of light came from above and into the horde. The Negs began to scatter and shift erratically. It moved through them like a shooting star heading straight for Shewuma. It was the Eagle. Shewuma could see him now. The Negs had reformed and were bearing down on them. The Eagle reached her side, but there was no time to make it to the floating remains of Wisty and Dermott. They turned and braced to face the black army together. Perhaps by some miracle they could slow them enough to allow Wisty to escape if she were still able. The two looked at each other. Speaking in their native tongue, Shewuma began the song of strength. “Spirits of the light and sky, hear us. I am Shewuma.”

“I am Nuuakhwahu.”

Then they spoke in unison. “We are Holy Warriors. We are Kachinas of the Hopi nation. We are Star Children of the Realm of Man. Help us die well.” Shewuma bowed her head to this noble warrior that she had called to his death.

With a wink and a hint of a smile, the Eagle said to her, “You’re going to love this, Chieftess. A little something I picked up in Tibet.” He began to grow. Ten times, a hundred times bigger.

Together they screamed the Hopi War Cry and met the horde.

Like jumping naked into the snow, the powerful War Cry brought Wisty to consciousness. She watched the Neg army envelop the brave Kachinas. They fought for her and Dermott, and they would die for her and Dermott. Shewuma battled ferociously but was disappearing under sheer numbers. Even with the massive death toll from the Eagle with his colossal size, he was steadily being ripped apart.

A voice deep inside told Wisty she had to do something. She wrapped her legs around Dermott’s waist and locked her feet. Then she held her arms out while visualizing an amethyst knife held by both hands pointing at her chest, and it was so. She had never done this spell before. It was said that none who tried had survived. “Oh well,” she thought. “Nothing ventured.” She spoke out loud with resolve:

Our life is spent, our time has come.

                    Back to the place that we are from.

                     I call upon the Powers That Be.                        

         This is my will                                                        So mote it be!

She plunged the knife into her chest.

 

There was a thunderous clap, and in that instant they all woke up back in the loft in their own bodies. Shewuma went to her feet unsteadily. The Eagle was on his knees trying to get his bearings. “Daniel, please help him,” said Shewuma. Corrine and Luce were doing CPR on Dermott’s body. Corrine looked worn out. Shewuma turned to Wisty and called her name. Wisty murmured something unintelligible. Wu slapped her across the face and yelled, “WISTY!”

Wisty opened her eyes, grateful to be alive. “Wu?” She tried to get up and Wu had to keep her from falling over.

“What about Dermott?”

Wisty patted her chest. “I have him here.”

Wu carried her over to the loveseat. “Let her in, guys. You did a hell of a job.” Corrine sat down on the floor exhausted while Luce went to help the Eagle. Ignoring decorum, Wisty pulled her dress up to her waist and straddled Dermott. She pressed against both of his temples while breathing in deeply. Glancing to her right she saw Shewuma watching her intently as she recited a Hopi prayer.

Wisty said, “Here goes.” Wu nodded encouragement. Wisty put her mouth on Dermott’s mouth and willed her soul to breathe. Dermott’s lips began to sparkle and color poured back into his face. His eyes opened. He lurched upward, arching his back and bucking Wisty off the loveseat. Wu caught her midair and sat her down. “Nice reflexes. Thanks.”

Wu pulled her in for a hug. “You did it.”

Holding onto Wu’s neck she said, “We did it, Shewuma. You two saved our lives. Thank you.”

Corrine lay back on the floor and smiled. She was pooped.

Luce leaned over Dermott, cocking her head. He was saying something to her. “Chieftess!” Luce called out in alarm.

“Everyone quiet,” ordered Wu, and she was at Dermott’s side. He grabbed Wu’s arm and struggled to tell her something. “Luce, get Dermott some water.” Wu said it calmly, but her eyes were smoldering. She stroked his head gently. “Tell me everything.”

His voice was raspy and faint. “Jimmy and Debbie. They’re going to die. It’s a trap.”

Nobody believes it

Including Trump!!

This is just spiel to fool the 70–80 Million MAGA crowd that good days are here and prevent them from turning on him when prices rise to the skies

In reality Trump will have to eat some of his tariffs and he will do it over time by declaring “Wins” in the coming days

For instance he may have a meeting with Cook and claim “Cook agreed to invest $ 300 Billion in USA and relocate all his businesses to US by 2030 so for the next 3 years, I will grant him an exemption on the Iphones”

He may actually demand an open bribe from Cook

The US is crumbling very fast and it’s resembling more of India as the days go by

Political favors sold for cash, Open Bribery and Corruption, One man running the show like a Dictator and the rest of the country , impotent to stop him

If Putin or Xi did 10% of what Trump is doing, they would have definitely been ousted from power long ago


So right now Trump is decimating the world

China has something to gain as every day the US is weaker and weaker without a shot being fired by China

Star Trek – Stuck on Earth

Personally, I think it’s exhausting.

When I was a child, I occasionally saw Japanese in China.

Me: Dad, Chinese is too much work. Japanese is better, it’s simple and easy to write! Dad: Wow! Chinese is beautiful. Let’s write beautiful Chinese.

Ever since I was a child, my parents have always taught and brainwashed me into thinking that I must write beautiful Chinese.

Mother: A man who can’t write beautiful Chinese isn’t a man!

Father: During summer vacation, let’s practice three pages of kanji every day.

When I became a junior high school student, I had to write an essay as part of the Japanese language test. Usually, I had to write more than 800 kanji characters. After the test, my hands would hurt.

The composition is like this↓ (Source:

)

However, traditional characters are more complicated than simplified characters, so I think people who use traditional characters will be more tired. When I see traditional characters, I want to see garbled characters.

For example, the traditional and simplified characters for “melancholy turtle” are as follows:

Traditional Chinese ⇒ Melancholic Turtle

Simplified Chinese ⇒ Melancholic Turtle

If the “gloomy turtles” appear in groups,

Traditional Chinese —– (I’m sure it will be tiring)

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Simplified Chinese —– (I think it’s pretty tiring)

The next door is the next door.

The next door is the next door.

The next door is the next door.

The next door is the next door.

The next door is the next door.

The next door is the next door.

Katakana——- (What’s this!? Easy)

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

When I was a child, the characters I wanted to write the most were katakana-like characters. However, people today don’t write by hand as much, and instead use computers or smartphones to type, so I think the difference in fatigue disappears. For example, if you just type “yydwg” using the pinyin input method, you can quickly write the Chinese characters for “忧郁的乌龟”.

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Not me, my brother – when he was around 10 years in the police force. He came home one night after work trembling and wanting to say a prayer of thanks.

One night he was the lone police officer sent to watch over an isolated small town. He was called to a report of someone doing graffiti on shop signage. When he arrived the small town was quiet with no one around. While walking the street he felt something urge him to turn around, he briefly glanced back – nothing. A few seconds later, the same feeling – he looked over his shoulder. Still nothing. The third time he said “I called have sworn it was a real voice”. He spun around just as a man was taking an overhead swing at him with an axe. He said it was as if his hand was guided within a split second to pull his baton, raising it over his head and deflecting the axe to one side. He grabbed the assailant and cuffed him. A prayer of thanks was given by everyone in our household that night.

He retired from the police last month at the good age of 63 having served as a police officer since 21 years old.

INVASION

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist. view prompt

Charles Corkery

“How long have we been working together as a team, Val?”“Twelve years, five months, two weeks and three days. Do you want me to break it down into hours and minutes?”Paul Jones turned to his partner, an incredulous look upon his face.“Are you actually, frigging serious?’Val Thorens broke into a broad smile, his eyes never leaving the giant screen in front of him.“No, you muppet. I’m pulling your leg”.Paul, standing, strode across the small room to a filing cabinet and yanked open a drawer. Retrieving a brown, cardboard file, he opened it and perused its contents for several seconds. 

“July 2nd 2011. Almost twelve and a half years ago. Jeez! You’re right. How did you do that? Wait, if I check the actual time that you became my partner…”

 

“Paul, a child of four years could work out how long we’ve been together. Why are you making such a fuss about it?”

 

Replacing the file, Paul turned back to his partner.

 

I didn’t know. I mean I knew it was about ten, twelve years but you…you’re always so frigging precise. It’s uncanny”.

 

‘Hey, I might be a physicist and an astronomer but, above all else, I’m a mathematician. Numbers to me are like candy to someone like yourself”, Val glibly remarked, pointing at the almost empty, giant bag of M and Ms that lay on Paul’s work station without removing his eyes from the monitor in front of him that, to an untrained eye, appeared to display an impenetrable darkness.

 

“Horses for courses, my friend. How come you don’t like candy, anyhow?”

 

Paul resumed his seat and stared briefly at his screen, quickly becoming restless and bored.

 

“My parents didn’t allow it when I was younger and, as I grew older and saw the damage that sugar did to teeth, I just decided it wasn’t for me”.

 

“Man, I’d go crazy in this place if I didn’t have something to brighten up my shift”.

 

Paul looked around their work space eyeing the pristine environment that made up this lab-like habitat that was their “office”. The sterile stolidness, dominated by the two giant screens, the computerised telescopes that were their workstations and which covered the skies above the state of Delaware, only a coffee machine and the low humming refrigerator added a sense of domesticity though one of the earlier shifts had, half-heartedly, hung tinsel around the place in an effort to provide some festive cheer.

 

Grabbing a handful of chocolate treats, Paul leaned back in his ergonomic chair, staring idly at the ceiling, popping candy.

 

“Val, do you ever get bored with this job?”

 

“Sure. And, every time it happens, I think of the money we get paid, partner”.

 

Apart from the idle chitchat, the room’s silence was broken only by the incessant humming of the fridge and crackling of radio static; the latter being the communication airwaves that connected all other watch stations; one per state across the nation. Each employing two, highly trained scientists per shift in a constant, perpetual state of watchfulness upon the skies above and beyond.

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Val. We get paid way more than if I was actually working in a lab. But, I mean, don’t you ever think that we’re kind of wasting our skills? All the years it took to get our degrees. I majored in astrophysics, for God’s sake yet, here I am just…watching a frigging screen”.

 

“In actual fact, if you calculate the time you spend popping candy, making endless cups of coffee and staring at the ceiling, Paul, you probably spend a minimal amount of your working hours actually watching your screen”.

 

“And your eyes never leave your screen, amigo. I don’t know how you do it. No wonder you need those tinted glasses of yours”.

 

“Well, I figure this is what the government pays us to do so, for eight hours each day, it’s my duty to oblige. Plus, after so long, it would be extremely difficult for me to drop a hundred grand per year by taking a normal lab job”.

 

Suddenly, Val leaned urgently forward, his eyes having discerned something on his monitor.

 

“One o’ clock, Paul. Check it out”.

 

Startled, Paul crashed down in his tilted chair, eyes returning to his own screen, a duplicate of Val’s, his hand involuntarily releasing a cascade of candy, M and Ms rolling across the metallic floor.

 

Both screens simultaneously arrowed in on the object identified by Val, images expanding as Paul controlled the direction of the viewfinder on the space telescope that provided them with intimate coverage of the night sky. Within seconds, Paul, among his other accomplishments, a nanotechnologist and an expert in the structure of such things, relaxed.

 

“Just another boring meteorite. Iron-nickel. I can tell by the regmaglypts, the irregular shaped pits. No problem, unfortunately. That’s the way the cookie crumbles”.

 

Later, as their shift ended, the spotting of the meteorite and its subsequent passage to Earth recorded in the log, the two men exited their work environment, the outraged cries of their shift replacements echoing in their ears as they slipped and crunched on the candy strewn floor. They grinned at each other as they unlocked their cars in the parking lot, the weak, early morning sun dazzling Paul but not bothering Val behind his dark lenses. Paul lamented.

 

“Another cold, miserable morning. I can’t remember the last time we had a white Christmas”.

 

Immediately, Val shot back.

 

“December 25th, 2002. 1.3 inches fell in Wilmington”.

 

Paul looked askance at his work partner.

 

“Do you make this shit up? How could you remember that?”

 

Saying nothing, Val simply shrugged, pulling up his collar against the chilly wind.

 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, you numbers freak”.

 

“Yes. Just two days ’til Santa comes”.

 

“Hey, Val, we need to organise a night out or something. Your wife and mine. Maybe in the New Year. What d’you say?”

 

“Yeah, definitely, we need to do that”.

 

As Paul climbed into his brand new Tesla, he, somehow, knew it would never happen. They had been talking about it… for twelve years, five months, two weeks and three days.

 

The alert came the following day: drones spotted over New Jersey. Reports varied: five, some said, six, others claimed; large, the size of cars according to a New Jersey police chief. Paul arrived for his shift in a heightened state of excitement though Val was his usual phlegmatic self.

 

The shift they were replacing seemed loath to leave though Delaware had, so far, not seen anything amiss. The unusual happenings in a neighbouring state were causing great excitement within the watchers’ community and the comms channels crackled with constant chatter.

 

“Can you believe it? Just east of us. Just our damn luck but we’ve been on full alert all day. Washington is saying they don’t know what they are. One eyewitness said they came out of the ocean”, a tired, wide-eyed watcher eagerly reported to the duo.

 

Alone again, the two settled in front of their screens.

 

“Val, d’you think this could be for real? D’you think…?”

 

‘Paul, I don’t believe we should take any notice of mere conjecture but, given the vicinity and its closeness to our own area of observation, I do think that we need to be extra vigilant”.

 

“Hey, don’t worry, pal. My eyes are never leaving my screen”.

 

As the night progressed, however, nothing was displayed on the monitors from the space telescope that hovered high over Delaware though, on the various frequencies that shattered the silence of their stations, they listened, enthralled, as word filtered through of several other sightings, maddeningly close to their own area of surveillance and, by shift’s end, the number of reported craft had increased steadily; Washington, despite stating that there was nothing to fear, still unable to identify their origin.

 

True to his word, Paul had remained watchful throughout the night, an unopened bag of Snickers testament to his attentiveness, and both men, too, were reluctant to leave their posts at the end of their shift, feeling that it was only a matter of time before Delaware, too, became embroiled in the mystery.

 

Fear, that normal human reaction to anything untoward that cannot be explained, spread swiftly over the ensuing hours. People who relied and depended on their government to reassure them were severely disappointed. Some brave citizens were taking ineffective pot shots at the unidentified craft as their numbers multiplied rapidly. These were not, as first reported, drones. That much was abundantly clear.

 

Panic followed fear and the roads were soon blocked by the vehicles of those fleeing from their homes, though where to, they did not know, but a mass exodus was taking place in New Jersey. Yet Washington did nothing to assuage concerns, either refusing to divulge the true identity of the spacecraft or simply unable to.

 

As Paul and Val reported for their shifts on Christmas Day, still, they learned, no sightings had been made over Delaware though New York State and Pennsylvania, both close neighbours, had now experienced numerous craft sightings. The incessant radio chatter confirmed the seriousness of the situation and the two observational physicists studied their screens intently; Paul, finally realising the importance of his chosen profession. Could the nation be under threat from space? The tension was palpable.

 

Then, an hour before their shift’s end, out of nowhere, an image appeared on their dual monitors; small and faint, at first, but, as it loomed closer, growing ever larger. Excitedly, Paul expertly guided the telescope remotely, zooming in, and gasping aloud as the magnification identified hundreds more craft coming into focus, following close behind the vanguard ship but only serving to accentuate the monstrous size of the lead craft.

 

“Holy Mother of God. Val, you see that? That’s a frigging mother ship!”

 

The static of the various frequencies suddenly ceased, all communication cut by some unknown, alien source. Paul, terrified, turned to his partner but Val seemed unperturbed, almost gleeful, pushing away from his work station and turning to Paul, slowly removing his glasses.

 

“It’s been…interesting, Paul. I’m sorry it has to end this way but, hey, that’s the way the cookie crumbles, right? Happy Christmas!”

Unable to move, Paul stared at the man he had worked alongside for so many years; a man who, after more than twelve years, he suddenly realised, he knew absolutely nothing about A man who, he registered far too late, was, in fact, not a man at all, his bulging, bright red eyes, exposed for the first time, now burning into his own, distorting his vision, the vicious heat melting his very flesh.

President Trump has not addressed any trade issues.

He has been reckless, spraying tariff bullets everywhere. In the case of China, he uses the bazooka.

Just to show his power. Instead he shows ignorance. His officials easily coned him that his reciprocal tariffs are derived from sophisticated calculations. He lost international stature and credibility.

Countries are confused. The American public as well. Maybe he himself is confused, hence the stops/goes, and pauses.

China refuses to let him run amok at its expense. It too has the bazooka, and it shot back. No trade issues to settle. This is China’s stance. If you want to trade with us, we are fine, we will trade with you. If you don’t want to trade with us, we are also fine. You ban us your high end chips, we ban you our rare earths minerals. An arm for an arm. China is prepared to decouple with the US.

It has already figure out the consequences. Exports to the US is worth 2.4% of GDP. On the decouple scenario, it may shed its growth by 1.5% points. Easily bearable, less than what it sacrificed when it self-triggered the real estate financial crisis. If necessary, it has plenty of fiscal and monetary space to cover the fall-out. No internal price pressures without imports from the US. It has alternative sources for the agriculture and energy goods. No technology supply pressures. It has overcome US sanctions and is self-reliant.

The US side may be less sanguine. Internal price pressures and shortages of goods may be mild for now, mitigated by the advanced orders to beat the tariffs. But they will start to bite going forward. The ban on rare earths has caused supply problems for the defence contractors, and the major tech companies, such as, Broadcom, Qualcomm, TSMC, Samsung, and Western Digital.

It is the financial markets that are worrying. The Dow, S&P 500, and Nasdaq crashed over 10%. Treasury Bond market is volatile, the 10-year benchmark jumped from below 4% in early April to 4.4% in the current. It had gone past 4.5%. The currency is under pressure, the dollar index fell from over 110 in early January to just over 100 in the current.

This is serious. US is a financialized economy. Values and valuations are determined by the financial markets. The turmoil could cause grave economic distresses, especially as there are worries about recession on top of the stubborn inflation, and the threat of stagflation.

The two countries are now in a full-blown trade war. Trump started it with a bang. No honeymoon period for him or anyone else. There will be no winner. China is calculative, and is is better prepared. Trump is reckless and full of hubris. US is unprepared.

  1. There are no usable toilets inside the White House USA

Taking a photo inside the White House (Personal Documentation)

I received an invitation from the United States government to visit the White House while I was an exchange student there.

The invitation I received was official, because it was given by the American government. For US residents, to get an invitation, they must ask for a recommendation from their respective State Senate. But for non-US residents, I don’t know how they can get the invitation.

Northeast Gate White House. Source: Personal Documentation

Five layers of security must be passed to enter the White House. Once inside, there are several rooms that can be visited, which contain various collections belonging to American presidents from generation to generation. The largest collection that I saw belonged to Barack Obama, George W. Bush, John F. Kennedy, and Abraham Lincoln.

The rooms in the White House have different nuances. Like in the Red Room, all the walls, carpets, curtains, and lighting are red. So are the Blue Room and Green Room, which are blue and green.

Map of rooms in the White House. Source:

Historical Tour of the White House
This is historical material, “frozen in time.” The web site is no longer updated and links to external web sites and some internal pages will not work. Tours Presidents & First Ladies White House Events & Traditions Resources Military

Green Room White House. Source: Personal Documentation.

Blue Room White House. Source: Personal Documentation.

Red Room White House. Source: Personal Documentation

Not all rooms in the White House can be entered. Like the Library, there are barriers that limit the movement of visitors, so that they can only see from the outside. Likewise with the objects there, everything is far from reach, so it is difficult (and indeed not allowed) for visitors to hold.

Library White House. Source: Personal Documentation

Another interesting fact is, inside the White House there are no toilets that visitors can use. Yes, since outside it has been warned by the officers, even explained in the invitation email. So if you want to relieve yourself, you have to leave the White House, and you can’t go back in because the invitation can only be used once.

2. Emergency 911 in the USA really works fast and responsively.

Emergency room of a hospital in Sycamore, Illinois, USA. (Personal Documentation)

I was an exchange student at Northern Illinois University, located in DeKalb, Illinois. One midnight, I was walking to my dorm after a night of studying in the campus library. The temperature was zero degrees Celsius, and the wind was blowing very hard.

After arriving at the dorm and entering my room, I went straight to sleep. Two hours into my sleep, I woke up because of a stomachache. At first it was just a normal ache, but then my stomach felt like it was spinning and I winced while holding my stomach.

My roommate asked about my situation, and asked for help from my friends from the next room. When my friends arrived, they tried to contact the dorm head and the person in charge of my exchange program. But because it was already 2 am, no one responded.

Finally my friend called 911, and asked for medical help for my condition. I thought help would come about 20-30 minutes after the call, but two police officers came to my room three minutes later. Yes, that fast!

Two policewomen came to ask about my condition, asked for my passport and campus ID, and immediately helped me down. On the ground floor, there were also two medical personnel with an ambulance, and a firefighter with his car to deal with emergencies. I was really stunned in the midst of my illness, they came three minutes after the call with a complete formation like this!

After I got into the ambulance, the police and firefighters left the campus, and I was taken to the nearest hospital on the border with Sycamore City, a 20-minute drive away. When I arrived at the hospital, there were already 2 doctors waiting who immediately provided responsive treatment for me. I was then transferred to several rooms, to check the condition of my stomach.

The final result of my emergency examination that night was stomach cramps due to the cold weather (and also a cold, hehe). After a few hours of rest, I was finally allowed to go home that night. And what made me laugh out loud was, around 4 am, I farted quite a lot, and my stomach immediately felt better. HAHAHA. The only medicine for this is supposed to be warm tea and Tolak Angin in Indonesia!

Everything was done very quickly and precisely. And what really amazed me was, everything was well organized and coordinated. All state officials worked together to give their best. If I, a newcomer, was treated very well, of course the locals would also get the same treatment or even better.

Anyway, after I got out of the hospital, I looked at the total emergency bill and if converted to Rupiah it was around 22 million. Luckily everything was covered by insurance, and I could return to campus in peace without having to think about such a large cost just for a cold.

3. Meet the Former Vice President of Uganda

Speciosa Wandira-Kazibwe with Rezki Achyana (Personal Documentation)

It was an honor for me to get to know Uganda’s first female Vice President, Speciosa Wandira-Kazibwe, closely and share stories. I met her in South Africa, when we both represented the Asia-Africa Forum 2018. She is a very humble person, and loves to share. We even had coffee together after the conference and shared stories. She told me a lot about her 10-year experience leading Uganda, empowering women in Uganda as the first president of the African Women’s Committee for Peace and Development of the African Union, and her story of becoming the UN Special Envoy for handling HIV/AIDS in the African continent.

I don’t think I need to share many stories about him, because you can google information about him directly on the internet. There are so many!

But the most important thing is, I am quite confident that African countries will improve a lot because at the 2018 Asia-Africa Forum I met many extraordinary African leaders like Mrs. Kazibwe.

Oh yes, I have a bonus photo with the former President of Mozambique, Joaquim Chissano. I was not that close to him during the conference, but from his background and his role in the political world of Mozambique and the African Union, I am increasingly convinced that Africa will soon show its teeth.

A friend of mine told a story about how, 25-some years ago, when she was working tech sales with an Apple division, she was at a conference that Steve Jobs also attended. At the end of the day, everyone was going to a restaurant for dinner, and through a snafu she found herself left with Jobs and two other people, whose ride had left them behind.

None of them had a car, so she offered to drive. Problem was, she and her husband were fresh out of school, her husband had started law school and money was tight — she was driving her husband’s old beater car that day. The front passenger seat was a little wonky, in that it tended not to lock in place, and the seat would occasionally slide forward and backwards of its own accord. Of course, that’s where Jobs was sitting. 🙂 It was dark and rainy, she didn’t know the roads that well, and they came up to a toll booth. She didn’t have the exact change, so everyone in the car was scrambling to find the change to get through the toll gate. The defroster didn’t work too well, either, especially with a full car, and Jobs would obligingly wipe the windshield occasionally. They arrived safely, and she figured she had a funny cocktail party story for the rest of her life.

A couple of weeks later, she noticed an extra $300 in her paycheck. She went to her boss and said, “Hey, what happened? Did I get a raise?” He didn’t know, either, but he checked with payroll. He came back with a funny look on his face and told her “Steve said it’s to cover a payment for a new car.” “Steve who?” “Uhh . . . Jobs?”

Brilliant people are frequently difficult — the thing that makes them brilliant also makes them a little too different, sometimes, for social conventions.

UK

I slipped with a kitchen knife and left a superficial mark on my thumb.

It bled a little, and the knife had been used on raw meat, so I applied ethanol and a bandage. A few days later, I noticed a fair amount of redness around the wound.

I went to the doctor’s office about ten minutes away from my house. They told me the next appointment was in six hours, so I booked it, and went home to play Fallout 4.

Six hours later, I saw the doctor. Telling the story took about a minute, and inspecting the wound took another, and he was satisfied at that point that I should take some standard antibiotics, just in case it was, as I suspected, infected.

He wrote out the prescription, asked me if I had any other concerns, and I told him I did not.

With five minutes left in our ten minute appointment, and with little else to do, he figured he may as well take my blood pressure and heart rate. I agreed, and was told everything was good.

I left with the prescription, popped to the pharmacy next door, got my prescription, and that was the end of it.

I didn’t pay a single penny.

The average person, i.e. those that actually paid for this appointment, spend about £600–700 annually in taxes for this service, which covers everything from minor cuts to cancer treatment, and covers everyone from babies to old people.

Nobody is ever bankrupted by this system, nobody is ever left without treatment by this system, nobody is abandoned by this system.

Cherry Cheese Coffee Cake

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Ingredients

Cake and Filling

  • 2 (8 ounce) packages refrigerated crescent rolls
  • 8 ounces cream cheese
  • 1/4 cup powdered sugar
  • 1 egg
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla or almond extract
  • 1 (21 ounce) can cherry pie filling

Glaze

  • 1/2 cup powdered sugar
  • 2-3 teaspoons milk

Instructions

  1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
  2. Unroll crescent dough and arrange 12 of the triangles in a circle with wide ends toward the outside edge of the Large Round Stone – the points will not meet in the center. Lightly flour and roll out the seams making a 14 inch circle with a 3 inch hole in the center.
  3. Combine the cream cheese, powdered sugar, egg and vanilla and spread over dough. Top with pie filling.
  4. Cut each of the 4 remaining triangles into thirds (starting at the wide end opposite the point and cutting lengthwise to the point). Arrange over filling evenly in spoke-like pattern. Press ends to seal at center and outer edges.
  5. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until golden brown.
  6. Cool slightly.
  7. Mix powdered sugar and milk until glaze consistency and drizzle over coffee cake.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

When Your Mama and Daddy Say “No” — Do It Anyway!

Wanna get Mama a ring? Daddy a brand-new Skil saw? DO IT!
Even if they say, “We don’t need anything.”
“We don’t want anything…”

Now, my Daddy’s long gone — Agent Orange got him. Retired at 55, and passed a few years later.
So now it’s just Mom… well, Mom and my little sister and me. And we deal with her the best we can. 😂

ME: “Mom? What do you want for your birthday?”
MOM: “Nothing! I don’t need anything! I’ve got everything!”

Her Birthday:
We got her puzzles. Word search books. A food basket. More chocolate (like she’s ever in danger of running out). And another grabby thingie with a flashlight. She loved it so much, she had me buy her another. She’s got three now.

Christmas:
More puzzles. More word search books. A snack basket. A food basket. “Warmy-Warmies” for the cold — blankets, PJs, cozy stuff. And yep… more chocolate.
Since I’m the only one that bakes, I brought homemade holiday cookies and “Chocolate Overload Brownies” so ooey-gooey the fudge literally goes every which way but… 🤤

Just Because:
We’ve gotten her all her favorites — cake, apple fritters, and I bring over hot, fresh cooking.
My little sister and her hubby #2 takes her out to eat.
Oh — and did I mention? She’s well over 90 now.

This Year – Easter:
MOM: “I don’t want anything. Don’t need an Easter dinner.”
ME: LOL okay, sure Mom.
I’m making her favorite: smoked turkey with all the fixings.
And a “ShishkaBoom” basket of Easter chocolates and cookies, labeled:
“To: [Her Name] — I couldn’t find your house! Love, the Easter Bunny.” 🐰
(Sissy’s still undecided, but she’s always slow – she’ll find something.)

Will Trump Deliver Peace? – Jeffrey Sachs, Alexander Mercouris & Glenn Diesen