Big changes this year. Have you noticed?
It began in January and now everything is moving at light speed. And the West cannot catch up.
As things change, we often forget what once was.
Back when I attended university, I rode a motorcycle to and from the University from the house where I lived at. I rode it rain or shine. Summer and in the Winter.
And in Winter, the conditions are Siberian.
So, I would often ride my motorcycle in the snow, during snow storms, being half-drunk at night from one end of Syracuse to the other end.
What was I thinking?
Well, I was kind of stupid as a young man. And after all, I’d never do that today. But then was a different time and I was a different person.
So…
Anyways, what I used to do was put on these thick snowmobile gloves, and wrap this scarf around my neck into my helmet, put on an outer layer of coat, and ride my motorcycle with my feet lightly dragging on the snow so that I would not skid. I did what I needed to do and it wasn’t all that bed.
A long, long time ago.
Today…
For those who think my previous post is too long. ChatGPT which some people unironically use for finding information, has so many built-in distortions to it’s answers, to guide you towards, the “correct” truth, that it melts down when trying to reason a joke about France.
Earlier, I also tried asking both AI a series of historical questions, ChatGPT incorrectly said that Lend-lease arrived in the USSR mostly in 1942, DeepSeek correctly said that Lend-lease arrived in the USSR mostly after 1943, peaking in 1944.
When it first came out, I was very suspicious of the answers ChatGPT gave initially, now there is a better tool available, it is clear to see just how much manipulation actually is going on with ChatGPT, and it still can’t even read its own history sources correctly.
Walmart CEO sounds ALARM on FOOD SHORTAGES
Well, he’s on the ground. And I believe it is going to hit the West. how bad, I don’t know. But the increases are gonna happen.
What makes staying at home interesting for old folks?
I’m not old, but I can tell you.
I stopped going to movies when I tired of people having loud conversations with their friends or on their phones, especially when they blurted out spoilers. The seats are never comfortable. People often expected me to give up my plum seat so they could have it. People climbed over me to get in and out, and others hung their coats or their hair over my lap.
The last time a friend and I went to try a new lunch place, a woman allowed her three-year-old to scream for forty-five minutes straight with no attempts to quiet him or even acknowledge him. We walked out, and the couple in front of us walking out at the same time made it clear to the hostess that they were leaving due to the screaming child. We replied we were as well. The hostess called out, “Come back! I was just about to say something to her!” Yeah, too late.
When travelling, I have tolerated screaming cell phone conversations, people hogging seats while I stood, people playing music with filthy lyrics with at high volume while children are present, venues that were either stifling hot or freezing cold, people that coughed and sneezed like the walking dead while making NO attempt to cover their mouths and noses, people arguing, people making out, people cutting me (or trying to cut me), drunken idiots behaving like drunken idiots, people eating loudly while dropping food or spilling drinks, people leaving trash on the seats for others (like me) to move, being groped.
All of these I grudgingly accept as the price of having to share the world with other people.
Now, in my home, the temperature is always as I please. The people around me are those whom I please to have around me, and all are lovely, loving people. My pets are here. If I am watching a movie on my 86″ TV with surround sound, and I miss something, I can rewind. If I have to go to the bathroom, I can pause it. If it drags, I can fast forward it.
If I don’t want to face the maddening crowds, I can order groceries online or use Amazon for gift shopping and delivery. The music that is on is what I like, or there is blessed silence if I like that. I don’t have to dress up, put on makeup, or bundle up in hat, coat, scarf, mittens, and boots to face the cold. There is never a line at the bathroom and the facilities are always clean. I can read in peace. Strange men don’t hit on me.
No, I can’t, and don’t, stay home all the time. But: Which sounds better to you?
From TikTok to RedNote: How a Social Media Shift is Bridging Cultures
Great video. Though the USA looks pretty shitty right now.
The comparison between the USA and China is SHOCKING!
Indian Omelet
Ingredients
- 2 large eggs
- 2 tablespoons finely chopped red onions
- 2 tablespoons finely chopped tomato
- 1 to 2 teaspoons chopped green chiles
- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh coriander
- Salt to taste
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Instructions
- Combine eggs, red onions, tomatoes, chiles, fresh coriander and salt in a bowl and beat until frothy.
- Heat the butter in a large nonstick frying pan over medium heat.
- Add the egg mixture and spread until it covers the bottom of the pan.
- Cook for 1 1/2 minutes until the egg is set and the underside is lightly browned.
- Turn with a wide spatula and cook for 30 seconds until the other side is browned.
- Serve immediately.
Panama: Big Changes . . . .
After Secretary of State Marco Rubio paid a personal visit to the President of Panama over this past weekend, Panama has made a big announcement:
Passage of American ships through the Panama Canal will now be FREE.
No toll.
Depending upon the size of the ship, that “toll” in the past could have been upwards of a MILLION dollars each way!
Many Japanese and South Korean tourists are shocked to see how dirty Chinese toilets are when visiting China? Why is it?
Anyway, when I went to Japan and South Korea, I didn’t dare to go to the toilet outside the hotel, no matter how clean it was.
Many Chinese tourists who visit South Korea are surprised to find that there are so many hidden cameras in Korean toilets. Especially in women’s toilets. Why is that?
Are South Koreans so keen on watching people poop?
I have to say, South Koreans really like shit, urine, and toilets, and they wish they could live in toilets for a long time!
Why do South Koreans rent houses? Since they love toilets so much, they can just live in the toilet, which is just as clean as the bedroom anyway.
Or is Billy Joe Bob’s version of this humorous: Keep the chopsticks at home – and don’t eat there.
The same is true for the Japanese. One Japanese man trapped himself in a septic tank in order to watch women defecate and eventually died.
He was listed as one of the most perverted ways to die in the world.
She screamed at the sight of human legs stuck in the sewer tank. How did an adult man got stuck in the pipes directly connected to the urinal?
Chinese urban toilets are no dirtier than those in Japan and South Korea!
But most of China is rural, and rural toilet sanitation is indeed a difficult problem to solve.
- First, township governments lack financial funds to build and maintain public toilets;
- second, farmers need to collect feces and ferment them into organic fertilizer;
- third, there is no systematic sewage pipeline in rural areas.
For rural areas to reach the level of urban sanitation, every household must solve it themselves.
However, Japanese and Korean tourists use expensive cameras to take pictures of the cesspools in Chinese rural public toilets. Don’t you think it’s disgusting? Do they really like shit, piss and toilets in particular? 🤣🤣🤣
The Tibet Autonomous Region and the Xinjiang Autonomous Region are both popular tourist destinations for foreigners. Especially in Tibet, which is over 5,000 meters above sea level, due to water shortage and thin air, it is difficult to transport building materials. Not only is it difficult to build flush toilets, but many toilet technologies also face challenges from the natural conditions of the plateau.
How difficult is plateau transportation? For example, on Mount Everest, the roof of the world at more than 8,000 meters, there are more than 200 bodies of climbers who died. The longest time they have been there is more than 40 years. There is no way to transport them down. If a climber carries even 1 kg more, his life will be in danger.
The world’s highest peak, Mount Everest, holds a somber distinction as the final resting place for many climbers who met their fate on its slopes. These bodies, preserved due to the cold, serve as grim reminders of the dangers people face when...
China is not a pea-sized country like Japan and South Korea. Both its land area and population are many times larger than those of Japan and South Korea.
Especially South Korea. The entire country is not even as big as a county in Xinjiang, China. What qualifications does it have to be compared with the whole of China?
Dire Straits / Sting – Money For Nothing (Live Aid 1985)
Have you ever walked out of an interview?
My story is the opposite. I was thrown out of an interview.
I saw an ad for a company that’s quite well known in my industry. I met or exceeded every last qualification listed. I sent my resume in and in less than a day they called me and set up an in person interview. I spent two hours with H-R selling me on the company, right down to the softball team. I was taken to the factory to a senior engineer who gave me a written test—I got two wrong out of 100 questions, was told that that was the highest anyone had scored. He took me into the lab and showed me devices that hadn’t even been patented yet. We talked for another hour. About my job history. About where’d I’d been and what I’d done. About how well I’d fit in there as a digital processing product specialist. Flipping through my resume, he said, “You seem to have left your college off your resume.” I told him that I have no college, I’m a self taught engineer. I had been an engineer for more than a decade with just a high school diploma.
He looked at me. He blinked a couple of times. A long pause. Then he said, “Well, thanks for coming in, this interview is over, please remove your car from the parking lot.”
Thanks a lot, well known audio gear manufacturer in the Chicago area.
I never lied, everything that I said was immediately verifiable. College was never mentioned in the job ad. I left, feeling lower then a snake’s belly and drove the L-O-N-G drive home feeling about as defeated as I’d ever felt.
I wasn’t nearly as upset at being blown out–that’s the way the game is played—as I was at the way they did it, treating me as a trespasser. Apparently they left the college degree requirement out—not my fault. For a “family owned company”, they don’t know how to treat a guest in their home.
I now have a masters degree and work as a Chief Engineer.
I’ve hired dozens of technical employees in my career, some of whom lie to my face, tell intricate stories that are clearly false, or pump up their resume to hundreds of pounds of inflation. And I have never, ever treated someone in an interview the way I was treated by them.
Why Michael Burry Just Sold Another $70 million of His US Stock Holdings
An Adventure of Zacharia Zook III
Submitted into Contest #280 in response to: Start or end your story with a character asking a question.… view prompt
Graham Toseland
“Zack? Are you there?” Deena’s high-pitched voice crackled with static.
“Grrnnnn. What is it?” I croaked into my comms as I strained. Shipboard rations played hell with my digestive system, and it had been a couple of days since the last time I’d gotten to the head. I could feel my ass going numb from sitting so long.
Soooo long.
“You need to come to the bridge.”
“Hrrrrnnn. Why? Awwhhhh.” I sighed long and loud. The sense of relief at finally achieving splashdown flooded my body.
“Just get up here… now.” Deena’s silken yet panic-stricken voice made me sit up straighter.
“OK, OK, gimme a minute.”
Two minutes later, I strolled nonchalantly onto the bridge, feeling several pounds lighter and with a weightlessness of spirit only successful bathroom visits can bring to the truly constipated.
“You might want to give it a few minutes before you use the bathroom,” I said with a grin.
“Gross, Zack.” Deena glared at me from under her blonde, shoulder-length hair which seemed to be in worse shape than I’d ever seen it before and believe me I’ve see…
OK, maybe it wasn’t the right time if her steely eyed look through narrowed eyelids was anything to go by. I’d known her for five years, and I’d never seen her smile, but this face?
This was her ‘We’re in the crap’ face, and I’ve seen that often enough to know, well, we must be in the crap.
“That’s me. Now, what was the almighty rush you humorless Jenovian?”
Deena pointed a perfectly manicured, and extremely sharp claw toward the front of the ship. I knew how sharp from experience… many unpleasant experiences, actually.
I turned the way she pointed.
Everything looked normal to me.
Probably.
Lots of equipment, buttons, dials, LED counters going up, LED counters going down, other stuff, most of which I didn’t understand, most of it flashing, and some of it flashing red which I didn’t think seemed right.
The main navigation screen I knew, and it showed the ship on course for the dead-end planet we were headed to.
Yellow Drip.
I mean, who calls a planet Yellow Drip?
I didn’t hold out much hope for a good time there, but a good time wasn’t the main reason we were headed to Yellow Drip, only the rest of the crew were, shall we say, not in the know about that. That was a secret only I knew. And you too now, of course. All the other screens were dark, which was unusual but not unknown.
I shrugged. “What?”
“Go look at the captain.”
The two high-back chairs at the flight console were facing front as they should be, so I had to step forward a few paces, then I realized why Deena was in such a panic.
The captain, and when I looked, the first mate too, were both missing the tops of their heads, and their brains had been scooped out, leaving their heads like the shell of a pink boiled egg.
Empty vessels.
“Shit.”
“No shit, Sherlock. What the hell are we going to do?” Deena asked. “We’re due to land on that scrap heap of a planet in exactly seven minutes from now. We’re on the final approach to atmosphere in two minutes thirty seconds.”
“What the hell happened?” I squeaked, transfixed in horror by the inside of the captain’s empty skull and pointing with a wavering finger. I looked back at Deena.
Deena shrugged, which tossed the curled-under ends of her hair up before they landed back on her broad shoulders with a little bounce.
Hmmm. Cute. Maybe… nah, not Deena, we’d been through too much together.
I shook my head quickly. “The… the AI can land us. DORA, can you take us in?” I said loudly and hopefully.
The sound of blood slowly dripping from the dead men currently not flying the ship was all I heard after my words echoed around the flight deck.
“DORA’s gone dark.”
I whipped around quickly to look at Deena again.
“Dark?”
“No response. Life support is running down too, just for good measure.”
“Fuck me! So, let me get this straight. The captain and first mate are dead, our shipboard AI has bugged out without so much as a goodbye, and Sirm is where? She’s the technical one on board.”
“Last time I saw her she was in her cabin, holding her knees, and rocking back and forth, muttering about brain-eating monsters.”
“What a wuss. There’s no such thing.”
I’d lied. No point worrying the crew about what only I knew was in the cargo hold, or wasn’t as it now seemed, judging by the state of the two eggheads up front, but there was no time to fret about that then.
Taking a crafty look around the bridge, just to be certain, I was reassured there was no obvious sign of the… things.
I pressed a bloody button on the console, wondering what the hell I should do about what had topped the captain’s and first mate’s noggins. That would come later, or if I could get away with it, never.
Nothing happened when I pressed the button. For all I knew, it was the ship’s self-destruct system. I resolved not to press any more buttons unless I knew what they did.
A radio finally crackled and the light next to the microphone came on. See, I knew it was the comms!
“Sirm. Get your ass up here… please. We have a situation we need to manage.”
The sound of sniffling and gentle sobbing filled the bridge. “OK, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Deena. How long before we all choke to death?” I asked.
“We have enough air for a couple of minutes.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, then ran them over my buzz cut hair.
“Right, you’re the computer geek. Hack into the life support system and find a way to keep it going for a few minutes longer.”
She stood there for three seconds before I yelled at her. “Now! Come on! Move your ass or we all die.”
Deena ran off the bridge in the direction I’d come from just as Sirm arrived, looking worriedly around the bridge. Sirm’s skin was green which meant she was pissed at me… again.
“Listen, Sirm, we don’t have time for another argument.” I could feel the first trickle of sweat running down my back into the top of my pants. “In five minutes, we are due to land on that planet,” I said, pointing at Yellow Drip filling the screen. “DORA’s gone exploring somewhere, so we need a landing vector and a means of handling this lump of metal. If you can find a way to override the security system and give me control of this heap of junk, I think I can land us, OK? Can you do that?”
Sirm’s skin had already turned blue with fear. Her extremities were still green though, so I knew I wasn’t entirely forgiven.
She put a two-fingered hand on each hip. “You want me to override all the safety systems, something nobody has ever done before in the history of space travel, something that’s expressly forbidden by every protocol, and hand over complete control of this vessel to you? A human?” She looked me up and down with one of her chameleon-like eyes while the other was looking over the console. I hated it when she did that. I never knew if she was looking at me, or for me.
“Yes.” I pulled myself tall and pushed back my shoulders into what I hoped was a heroic pose. “Yes. I know I only hired this junker for the trip but I, Zachariah Zook the third, aka Zack, the human, am going to save your lizard hide.” I jabbed a finger at her. “Now, can you do it? Time’s-a-wasting here.”
She stood looking at me with what I thought was disdain, judging by the purple patch that appeared on her skin for a full ten seconds, then she shrugged and said, “Sure, why not.” She reached out one curved finger and flipped a switch on the console. “There you go.”
The second the words left her mouth, alarm klaxons bellowed.
I grabbed what was left of the captain and heaved him out of the chair, depositing him against a wall which the captain’s body slid slowly down, leaving a bloody smear.
Then I jumped into the sticky seat.
With no recent training, no history of flying this kind of ship, no co-pilot, and my usual high-level bad luck, I didn’t hold out too much hope of saving our asses, but I was going to try.
“Kill those alarms and give me an entry vector.”
Sirm shifted the first mate with difficulty then eased slowly into the chair, her skin turning yellow in disgust at the blood and gore.
“Quickly, Sirm, they’re driving me crazy,” I yelled.
The alarms went silent at Sirm’s deft touch.
“Entry vector three-eight-seven,” she said while she killed as many flashing red lights as she could.
I thought back to my pilot training—most of which had passed me by, shrouded by the cloud of tranceweed I seemed to have existed numbly within for those two years—desperately hoping enough of it sank in sufficiently for me to remember now, then I pressed the comms button again.
“How’s the life-support coming, Deena?”
“Nearly there. It should kick in any second.”
“Great. You’d better strap in, this could be bumpy.”
“You ready?” I asked Sirm who had already strapped in and was slowly turning blue again.
She nodded, and that instant, we hit the atmosphere with the ship’s shields at a hundred percent. The glow was adjusted automatically by the screens, and it seemed like only seconds had passed before I had to grab the manual flight controls as our craft emerged into the atmosphere, pitching and yawing in the turbulent Yellow Drip air.
We were being buffeted around, throwing us both from side to side in our seats.
“What’s the gravity reading,” I yelled over the rumbling noise of atmospheric flight. Whatever it was, I wanted this ship down on the surface and everybody onboard safe… me included. Trying to fly it was like trying to wrangle an out-of-control horse and cart, and I remembered then why I never became a pilot.
Because it sucked.
“One point two Earth gravity.”
“Shit, so I gotta come in higher and slower, right?”
Sirm’s left eye swivelled slowly to look at me. “I’m a technician, not a pilot.” If she had any eyebrows, I’m pretty sure one would have been raised at me.
Helpful… not.
I gulped and concentrated on the controls, constantly adjusting the trim to keep the ship level.
As the ground came more and more into focus, I set the scanners to look for a safe landing spot, while I concentrated on keeping everyone alive.
At last, a flashing dot appeared on screen, and I set the course and speed to get us there as soon as possible.
A minute later, a large, flat, sparsely vegetated plain between some low, steep hills appeared before me.
I pitched up the front end of the ship to aid slowing to landing speed and retro-fired rockets to gently slow the ship even further.
“Ready?” Sirm said.
I nodded. It made sweat run down my face, but I couldn’t spare a hand to wipe it away.
I wasn’t ready, but I was desperate, and in my experience, desperate men do really stupid things, like imagining they could fly a ship when they obviously couldn’t.
Sirm spoke calmly. “Engines powering down. Hover rockets in ten, nine, eight, six—”
“You missed seven.”
“Huh?”
“You missed seven you stupid lizard. Look, no time now. Hit those hover rockets before we drop out of the sky.”
Sirm sat, counting up to three, which took a while as she only had two digits on either hand. Then she nodded and with one eye on me, she hit the button.
My stomach tried to erupt out of my ass, curing my constipation forever as the rockets kicked in, rapidly slowing the momentum of the ship, and prompting a series of loud, ear-piercing screams and retches from Deena that hadn’t needed the comms system to echo through to the flight deck.
I couldn’t spare a second to find out what the problem was. I just hoped the thing that killed the crew wasn’t scooping out Deena’s brain right at that moment.
The entire craft lowered to a three-second hover within six feet of the surface.
“You dropped the landing gear, right?” Sirm asked, her nearest eye still looking at me.
I swivelled both eyes over the console, hearing my heart pounding in my ears.
“Shit. No.”
My stomach leaped up then, trying to escape through my throat as the ship dropped the last six feet like a stone, crashing onto the surface.
I must have missed the landing gear lesson.
Metal shards erupted through the floor as the cargo bay below the bridge collapsed, forcing its contents upward.
Eventually the creaks and groans subsided, and so did the noises the ship was making.
“Everyone OK?” I kind of yelled and coughed at the same time through clouds of dust.
“I’m fine,” Sirm said, having checked herself over already. She was faffing about with the buttons in front of her, but it looked like we’d lost power completely.
Her skin was bright green!
I knew what was coming soon.
“I’m OK,” Deena yelled from back in the ship.
“So why all the screaming? Did something happen back there?” I shouted back, remembering the brain-eating things I wasn’t talking about just yet.
“Err, yeah.”
“What was it, Deena, come on?” I asked.
“When the ship slowed down fast?” Deena’s shrill voice grew louder as she approached the bridge.
“Yeah?”
“The bathroom door flew open. You really are a pig, Zack.”
Young Mom DEMANDED A Break “To Find Herself” Instead Husband Is Finding A Good Divorce Attorney…
Shorpy
Why are Chinese people not worried about the iPhone collecting their data?
In a Democracy, Unqualified often Stupid people make decisions in minutes or hours for political gains even if these decisions prove to be very seriously damaging in the long run
Political gain is all that matters
- Modis note ban
- Trumps proposed 60% Tariffs
- EU Sanctions against Russia
These are some examples
In China, a One Party Meritocracy
Since Deng Xiaoping came to be the leader, NO DECISION IS MADE WITHOUT EXPERTS WEIGHING THE PROS AND CONA
Xi won’t foolishly address China at 8 PM and made nutcase decisions, unless and until the best minds have analyzed the long term consequences of his decisions
So Xi would likely have discussed all aspects of data security in China and been more than satisfied that Data from Chinese IPhones is not at risk
Furthermore the Government Officials since 2023 October no longer use IPhones under Government orders
Xi wouldn’t make rash moves to ban the Iphone because that would mean 200,000 Jobs in China
He isn’t corrupt , selfish or insane like US Senators who make millions themselves and squeeze the middle class guy without a care in the world, making wildcat decisions without any proper research or analysis
This Reincarnation Secret Has Been Hidden For 2,000 Years
Mexico folded under threat of tariffs, giving into Trump’s request that they secure their border with 10,000 military troops. Why didn’t any of the super-genius economists predict this?
I love it when something that happened under Biden’s watch is falsely credited to Trump.
The agreement for Mexico to place additional troops on the border was negotiated with the Biden administration SIX MONTHS AGO.
The only thing that changed is they moved up the timeline a little.
So Mexico agreed to do what they already had agreed to do, Trump folds on his tariff threats, and you see this a victory for Trump how, exactly?
Do you believe the imposed tariffs will benefit America in the long run?
Let’s explore a little case study, before tackling the question.
Tesla made its first car in 2008. But Shanghai is responsible for over half of its cumulative production, despite beginning operations in late 2019. A huge site expansion is already in the works, because Shanghai has been the primary driver of Tesla profits.
In other words, the gigafactories ex-china do not have attractive ROI and operate nowhere near capacity.
Now, Tesla is a successful business because it enjoys wide moats versus legacy automakers. There is the EV subsidy for buyers, direct marketing bypassing dealers, government grants, and Tesla’s dominance in manufacturing efficiency and self-driving technology.
Tesla can make cars faster and cheaper than legacy ICE marques transitioning to EVs.
And better yet, this virtual monopoly is being protected by a 100% tariff wall stateside and up to 45% in the EU targeting Chinese EVs.
But Tesla to date still makes abysmal profits from its ex-china gigafactories, despite assured circumstances.
Food for thought isn’t it?
Tariffs are shapers of trade flow. Their effectiveness is compounded by the shock value of its pen to paper nature.
Given enough time, supply chains can be permanently altered, just like how a stream can be dammed and diverted by a single beaver.
Tariffs, especially the widespread ones targeting half of all imports, is akin to conducting open heart surgery, as opposed to a mechanic performing an engine overhaul. The risks are magnified, because an engine can’t die, but a patient certainly can.
Donald’s shock therapy WILL cause harm to the economy, just because the effects are widespread. We are talking over 2 trillion in imports, and America is no longer in the age of low rates and inflation.
And we have not factored in retaliation, and escalation as the trade war evolves. It is high cost, and high risk.
Whether it is affordable remains to be seen.
Tariffs will have to been maintained for a long time because supply chains take many years to plan and flesh out. The commitment required goes way beyond a presidential term and if a Democrat takes charge next, I struggle to imagine how bridges burnt will be repaired.
One thing is clear. No country will sign an FTA/trade deal with the US in the near future, with NAFTA/USMCA up in smokes.
In aggregate, the cost and disruption to the american way of life is unknown for now. The ability of the US to rebuild entire supply chain ecosystems as import substitutes is highly suspect, especially as economically viable projects. Even high value/high tech industries stateside are increasingly unprofitable/troubled, let alone low/medium skilled ones.
Call me a skeptic but I am pessimistic about this makeover. American infrastructure, logistic networks and urban density is incompatible with efficient 21st century manufacturing.
Donald and his team have misdiagnosed the patient.
And no, I don’t think he plays 3-D chess while us mortals are stuck on a 2-D board.
Why are French people known for having affairs?
Anna, a 53-year-old interior designer and french woman, was married to a wealthy man. In 2023, she started living alone, asked for divorce.
she was vacationing with her family at a ski resort, took many beautiful photos, and decided to share them on social media to get new affair in life.
For the first time in her life, she created an account on Instagram and posted the pictures.
Shortly after, she received a friend request from an unusual contact as, “Brad Pitt’s mother” reached out to her, and then the actor Brad Pitt who is getting divorce from Angelina jolie himself.
At first, “Brad Pitt” showered Anna with compliments, poems, and gifts, including expensive handbags and jewelry. However, Anna had to pay €5,000 to cover customs fees for the delivery. Without hesitation, she made the transfer. Anna started loving Brad Pitt hollywood actor. Anna made the plan to settle in Los angeles.
Then, tragedy struck her dream when Anna’s lover Brad Pitt fell seriously ill.
“Brad Pitt” claimed he had been diagnosed with kidney cancer. His funds were allegedly frozen due to his divorce from Angelina Jolie, so he asked Anna for help. She divorced her husband and paid hundreds of thousands of euros “for surgeries,” while “Brad Pitt” expressed heartfelt gratitude and sent her photos from a hospital bed.
The story fell apart when tabloids published stories revealing that Brad Pitt was actually dating someone named Ines de Ramon. It dawned on Anna.
Then Anna felt that she had been scammed and contacted cyber police.
All the photos of Brad Pitt which have been sent her had been generated by AI. By that point, she had already transferred €830,000 to the fraudsters — all the money she had left after her divorce from her millionaire husband.
Beware…
Should the US government investigate DeepSeek’s hardware for violating export curbs?
They are already investigating whether DeepSeek acquired advanced Nvidia GPUs through intermediaries in Singapore by possibly circumventing U.S. export controls. And the U.S. lawmakers are advocating for stricter export controls to China. They have even proposed measures to halt chip shipments to Singapore.
The investigation is ongoing, the factual accuracy of the claim remains unconfirmed.
And I think it is just moot. Didn’t we all see what happened when US try to cut them access to the latest and greatest Nvidia chips and China did it in mid-range hardware.
Btw, the top consumer countries of Nvidia outside of USA include China itself along with Singapore.
And the whole allegations is due to some critics suggesting that firms might be using Singapore as a conduit to move restricted chips, especially in light of the ongoing tech war between the U.S. and China.
This is because people remember allegations and not rebuttals.
“If someone says ‘Charlie f**ked a goat’, even if the goat denies it, he goes to the grave as Charlie the Goat F**ker.” — Orrin Bach(Billions – Series)
And as of now, it’s just allegations, nothing legally proven.
What We Know So Far:
- Microsoft flagged suspicious activity related to DeepSeek accessing OpenAI’s API.
- OpenAI suspects DeepSeek of distillation (using outputs from GPT to train their model).
- No concrete evidence of direct IP theft (like stolen model weights or source code).
- Investigations are ongoing.
Right now, it’s mostly concerns and not a confirmed case of IP theft.
But then again if baseless accusations are enough to prove anything, then I guess I rest my case, lol.
.
I think there is no need for all the whining or allegations because OpenAI can just make a better model. That will be the real flex. Also OpenAI truly has talented team too and the solution is simple: outbuild and outperform. All the noise about IP theft and distillation is just distractions. Instead of playing defense, they should be doubling down on innovation and pushing out even more advanced models.
To be honest, that hibakod guy is right, neither the Sam Altman’s quote nor the Deepseek’s R1 is that deep. Deepseek just reached at par with OpenAI but using limited resources.
At the end of the day, the Technology market doesn’t care about accusations, it cares about results. Hence OpenAI should let their work speak for itself and leave the drama to the side. OpenAI should just build the next-level AI that makes everyone else look like they’re still in the minor leagues and they will be back on the lead.
Ok peace out.
What are documented cases of Chinese citizens successfully getting their grievances addressed by the government?
The 12345 service hotline is a government service complaint hotline.
This is the statistics of Shanghai in October 2024.
You can check it on
The total number of complaints and appeals is 132,356.
99.99% of complaints and appeals have been handled by the government.
What is the reason behind Uyghurs wanting to join the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)?
Because the CCP is widely loved and viewed positively in China.
Also there’s the recent anti-Americanism at play. US has sanctioned products coming from Xinjiang and thus is practicing forced unemployment on the Uyghurs. So of course the Uyghurs would hate the US and join the CCP and Chinese military with greater fervor.
Muftafa Ali, the Uyghur pilot celebrated for conducting a mock bombing run on an American carrier near China in 2023, keeping up with the proud Uyghur tradition of bombing the US (the 911 attack).
The Best China-Made EV I Have Ever Seen | You Can’t Buy This in the States!
The Harveysburg Incident
Submitted into Contest #280 in response to: Write a story that solely consists of dialogue. (No dialogue tags, actions, or descriptions. Just pure dialogue!)… view prompt
B.A. Klapper
“You know my name, I’ve been here for eight hours, when am I going to be able to go home?”
“I understand you’ve had a very trying couple of days, please just go over it one more time for us and we’ll let you go home. If you could please state your name for the record.”
“Alex Callingham.”
“Miss Callingham…”
“Mx.”
“Mx. Callingham, what is your age?”
“26.”
“And where do you live?”
“Harveysburg, Ohio.”
“Have you lived there long?”
“A couple years. Since I finished college.”
“And your place of employment?”
“The diner by I-75, across from the flea market. Although I work the flea market too on weekends.”
“Yes, I understand you’re an aspiring artist?”
“Of a sort. The diner pays more of my bills than the art does. I’d rather move to Chicago or New York but I had to move back in with my parents so…”
“No shame in that, it’s a tough world out there. Now, I want to talk about the events of November 11th, but I want to start at the beginning. When did you start working on this piece?”
“Oh that piece. I want to say I started working on it about….July? Late July, early August. I don’t remember the exact date. I remember I was having trouble sleeping because the AC was out and I was just sweating in my bed, wishing that I could fall asleep, staring at my alarm clock as the minutes crawled by, doing that ‘if I fall asleep now I’ll have five hours and forty-five minutes of sleep for work tomorrow’ thing. Anyway, I must have drifted off because I remember dreaming, but I don’t remember what I dreamed. And then I woke up and I felt the need to…create. Like I was struck by inspiration.”
“What happened then?”
“Well I went to my shift at the diner but I couldn’t concentrate all day. I was lucky it was a slow day because I was sketching shapes on paper napkins all through my shift. I felt like they were inside my head and they would burn their way out if I didn’t put them to paper.”
“Did you keep any of these napkins?”
“I took them home with me at the end of my shift, they’re probably in the folder with all the other sketches.”
“Your sketches of these shapes?”
“Yeah. When I got home, I wanted to start copying the shapes into my sketchbook, something more permanent. Just quick pencil sketches. But it didn’t feel as intense when I copied them. Like I had gotten them out the first time and that was that.”
“And then what happened?”
“Well, I copied my napkins and when it was done I just…fell asleep I guess. Put my sketchbook away and didn’t think about it for a couple weeks.”
“When did you next work on the piece?”
“Sometime in the middle of September. I had another dream about the shapes again.”
“You say again? But you don’t remember the first dream?”
“What?”
“Your first dream that made you sketch on the napkins, you said you didn’t remember what you dreamed about but you just said you dreamed about the shapes again.”
“Oh. Yeah. Well, I guess I must have dreamed about them since I drew them.”
“That does make sense. Please, continue. The second dream.”
“Right, yeah, so I woke up and I realized my sketches weren’t right, they needed to be fixed. So I pulled out my sketchbook and I spent the whole day making new sketches. I realized where I’d gone wrong and I could make them right again.”
“And that’s when you started painting?”
“Yeah, not that one originally. I was working with a canvas that I had with me but as I kept working I realized it wasn’t big enough. It was too small to contain what I needed to…express I guess.”
“And so you obtained the canvas for this piece?”
“No, I bought a couple of other canvases first. I mean pretty much anything is bigger than an eight by eight. But even when I got a sixteen by twenty it wasn’t big enough. I ended up having to make a canvas big enough.”
“And where are these other canvases? Are they also at your house?”
“Yeah. I burned through them pretty quick. I figured because I got them from the craft store for cheap it wasn’t a big deal, but each one just kept being too small for what I needed to make. I’d just start painting on one and before I knew it I’d reached the edge.”
“So when did you start working on this piece?”
“That was October. I had a couple busy weeks at the diner so I forgot about the shapes for a bit, but then we got to a slow week and I was able to spend time getting canvas and stapling it to the wood so I could actually work on it. I spent way too late one night fighting with it but I got the canvas ready and then I just sort of collapsed in bed.”
“And that’s when the third dream happened?”
“Yeah. I woke up in the middle of the night, I remember my alarm clock said it was three A.M. or something like that and I just needed to paint again. And so I got my paints and I started making the shapes on the canvas. And it felt right. It felt so right. I finally could get everything onto one canvas, all the shapes, everything in the right place.”
“And did you finish the piece that night?”
“No. I got most of it finished but I must have passed out or something because the next thing I remembered I was face-down in my palette and my alarm was going off to go to work.”
“And then you didn’t come back to it?”
“Yeah, I guess I just kind of forgot about it with one thing and another. Had a Halloween party with friends and a lot of other stuff going on.”
“So you finished it on the 11th?”
“I mean, I guess? I don’t really remember finishing it.”
“Walk me through your day. Start when you woke up on November 11th, what do you remember?”
“I mean it was a pretty average day I guess. Woke up, showered, went to work my booth at the flea market and try to sell some art.”
“Do you remember taking this piece with you?”
“I didn’t take that piece with me.”
“You’re certain? Multiple witnesses said you brought it with you.”
“How? It’s too big to fit in my car!”
“You didn’t roll it up?”
“You don’t roll a canvas up when you’re working on it. You shouldn’t roll it up at all, really.”
“You have no memory of rolling this piece up and bringing it with you to the flea market?”
“Clearly not. What are you implying anyway? You don’t believe me?”
“Just trying to get the facts straight. I’m sorry, I’ve derailed you. Please, continue talking about your day. You went to your booth at the flea market.”
“Right. Went to the flea market. Made a couple of sales. Ate lunch. Made a couple more sales and then I…then I…”
“Take your time.”
“I…I don’t know what happened.”
“You don’t remember working on this piece?”
“I told you, I didn’t bring it with me to the flea market, I couldn’t have worked on it if it wasn’t there, now could I?”
“No, you couldn’t have. Who is the Glutton?”
“Who?”
“The Great Glutton Who Consumes the World?”
“Is that some sort of Lovecraft thing?”
“The name doesn’t ring any bells?”
“Listen, I’m not really into Lovecraft. It’s just weird. Not good weird, annoying weird.”
“You don’t have any memory of this?”
“That’s…me…at least it looks like me. Have you guys been spying on me?”
“This is a still from cell phone footage someone took at the flea market on November 11th. You don’t remember this incident?”
“I’m pretty sure if I was screaming in the food court with my tits out and covered in paint I’d have remembered it. Is this some sort of deep fake or something?”
“Hang on, let me pull the video up.”
“The time of judgment is nigh! Your reckless consumption has pleased the Great Glutton Who Consumes the World! You have filled the air with poisons! You have tainted the seas with plastics! All in your desire for more. More. MORE! ENJOY THE END OF YOUR FEAST FOR THE GLUTTON KNOCKS AND NO DOOR SHALL BAR-”
“You don’t have any memory of that?…Mx. Callingham? Mx. Callingham? Hey, Steve, get a doctor, would you? She’s passed out. Let the record show that person of interest Alex Callingham went catatonic at approximately 17:15 on Tuesday, November…”
“Alex isn’t here right now, Agent Baker.”
“What?”
“Oh, you think she’s playing a game with you. Or she suffers from DID and doesn’t realize it. That would be comforting wouldn’t it?”
“Am I…am I speaking with the Glutton?”
“Oh no. No, I am merely a harbinger. The herald of destruction. You cannot prevent what is to come, Alex was only a key to an already rusty gate. The Glutton is coming, Agent Baker.”
“What does he, what does it want? Can you tell me that?”
“What does any glutton want? To consume. To possess. To devour. Your orgy of excess on your world has brought His attention. You should be honored that your depravity should be so exceptional that He noticed.”
“How do we stop this? How do we keep him…”
“You cannot stop Him any more than you can stop the stars from burning, Agent Baker.”
“Surely he can be reasoned with.”
“Did you reason with the turkey you ate for lunch, Agent Baker? Or the cow your lovely wife made for dinner last night? They did not want to be consumed, Agent Baker, any more than you do. But consumed they were. Just as we all shall be.”
“…”
“Go home to your lovely wife, Agent Baker. Hold her and your children close. The Glutton is coming and the end is nigh.”
“Steve! Steve! I need you in here right now, with twenty-five milligrams of thorazine…”
“Doug? What the hell’s going on here?”
“I don’t know! I thought that table was bolted down!”
“It was bolted down! How did she…”
“A shame your wife will have to die alone, Agent Baker. She had such a lovely dinner waiting for you.”
“Code Gray! This is Agent Doug Baker, we have a Code Gray in Room 204, I repeat Code Gray!”
“Get down you crazy bitch!”
“Why won’t the door open?”
“Code Gray! Any and all assistance to Room 204, I repeat Code Gray!”
“…”
“Hello? Is anyone there?… Please, I don’t know where I am. Is anyone there?”
DeepSeek Blocked! Expert Explains Why & What To Do Now
What was the “I’m done” moment in your last relationship?
My ex and I were traveling to Cozumel for vacation. I had just been pulled aside by customs because a dog sniffed an apple core in my bag.
He left me at customs without knowing the cause because he was worried about losing our luggage on the carousel. (You know—the one that goes round and round again until you grab it?)
After customs cleared me, I looked up to see that he was on the wrong side of the carousel to get the luggage 🙄. And, he wouldn’t look toward me so I went to the correct side and gathered it up. All of it.
He finally saw me waiting for the second customs screen to open. He walked ahead of me and stood in line while I dragged the all of the luggage behind me.
When we get to the front of the line I was tired and struggling. He approached the customs officer at the podium. He left me behind at the “wait here” sign to gather our things.
When you travel with a companion, you’re supposed to stay with them. So this sweet Customs Officer, a teeny Mayan woman, was completely confused when my ex handed her OUR documents stating there were supposed to be two of us.
She looked at him and asked who he was traveling with. He got confused and then gestures toward me and says, “oh, her.”
As I approach the podium, the woman looks at me carrying all the baggage and then looks my ex up and down with scrutiny.
This angel from God, a customs officer, can hardly see over the podium she stares at his 6’1” 240lb frame, looks him straight in his eyes finally says: “You mean, your QUEEN?”
I will forever remember her saying those words. Because in that moment I saw my worth from someone else’s view.
Indian Potatoes
Ingredients
- 8 medium potatoes, peeled and sliced
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 3/4 teaspoon yellow asafetida powder
- 1/2 teaspoon ground rosemary
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
- 3 cups sour cream
- 1 tablespoon melted butter
- 2 teaspoons salt
- 1/2 cup water
- 1 teaspoon sweet paprika
- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Instructions
- Boil the potato slices in lightly salted water in a saucepan until they are cooked but firm. Remove and drain.
- Add the olive oil to a medium size saucepan, over moderate heat and when hot, add the asafetida. Sauté briefly; add the rosemary, pepper and turmeric and stir briefly.
- Add the sour cream, melted butter, salt and water. Whisk it into a smooth sauce and remove from the heat.
- Combine the potato slices and sour cream sauce in a mixing bowl.
- Pour the mixture into a casserole dish, sprinkle with paprika, and place in the top of a preheated 325 degrees F oven.
- Bake for 30 minutes or until the top is golden brown.
- Garnish with fresh parsley and serve hot.
Thoughts On Musk’s Raid Of USAID
Secretary of State Marco Rubio has announced to reconfigure U.S. foreign policy from a unipolar view to a multi-polar concept of strong states.
But, as Brian McDonald warns, that does not mean that the U.S. has given up hope of being the biggest dog in town:
A Washington that stops pretending to rule the world and starts playing smart could be a tougher competitor for Beijing and Moscow than the one we’ve seen desperately clinging to a crumbling ‘rules-based order.’ The era of unipolarity might be over, but the game is far from done.
‘The game is far from done’ can also be said about Elon Musk’s raid of USAID:
The Trump administration and its allies moved to tighten control of the U.S. Agency for International Development over the weekend, signaling an intent to act forcefully to bring the U.S. foreign policy apparatus in line with the president’s “America First” approach to engaging with the world.
…
Over the weekend, Musk repeatedly denigrated USAID without offering evidence that those working there were corrupt. On X, he called the long-standing government agency “evil” and a “viper’s nest of radical-left marxists who hate America.”“USAID is a criminal organization,” he added. “Time for it to die.”Established in 1961 by President John F. Kennedy, USAID oversees a vast portfolio of programs designed to provide humanitarian relief, combat poverty, support global health and more.
The rarely spoken of ‘and more’ part of USAID involves billion of dollars for regime change operations with the help of ‘civil society’ manipulations via U.S. subsidized media and Non-Government Organizations.
The Trump administration will kill parts of that and reintegrate the rest of USAID into the state department. The CIA offshot National Endowment for Democracy (NED) will likely meet a similar fate.
In their current configuration USAID and NED are under institutionalized congressional oversight. Taking away their independence by putting them under executive control will increase the White House’ power. Neither is likely to completely stop their dirty work but it will become more difficult to detect and expose it.
Trump’s MAGA is not against doing regime changes in foreign countries. Its main beef with USAID is about its abuse by the Democrats which pushed it to promote their ideologies and to incite foreign societies against Trump.
In a world where the U.S. is no longer trying to be the unilateral power, regime change may not longer be needed that much. In a multi-polar world the U.S. does no longer need to create and confront adversaries but can restrict itself to coerce allies to pay up via tariffs, weapon sales or otherwise. Pax Americana may well become Tax Americana.
What ended your relationship with your best friend?
We met when we were 11 yrs old. We went through everything together. She was best friend, confidant and sister. We were each others maids of honor. Our daughters were even born on the same day, 8 years apart. What an amazing surprise, huh?
33 years after we met, her husband said something inappropriate to me during a “friends night” when we were briefly alone. My best friend had dealt with this behavior from him for years and always seemed to make an excuse for him. However, he had never tried that on me until then. I was recently divorced and I guess he thought I was an easy target.
I brushed him off and walked away in shock. It took all I had to muster up the nerve to tell her. The next day, I told her what happened and held my breath. I was hurt but not surprised with her reaction. “He was probably drunk… you aren’t even his type.. it was a joke.”
Everything changed after that. We spoke less. We texted less. It was a slow fade. It’s been 9 years since we last spoke. I hear she’s still with that dirtbag. Not having her in my life has hurt like hell and I still miss her. I think of her especially on our daughters’ birthdays. I hope you are living your best life, V.
Has anyone walked into a bar and then found it was filled with a biker gang? What happened?
A little different….I am retired from the Navy and working in a small hospital when the ambulance brings in a biker body. Really busted up, most likely died instantly.
Anyway, me and another aid wheel the body down to the morgue and the diener (morgue assistant) grabs his scissors and reaches to cut off the bikers ‘colours’ (Motorcycle jacket). I stop him and carefully remove the jacket without cutting it.
Photographs are taken, pockets checked, and the diener permits me to take the jacket.
A couple of evenings later I take the jacket, in a plastic bag, and drive to the clubhouse of the biker gang.
The guard/gate keeper asks what I’m doing there. I explain and he goes in and talks to someone. I become one of the very rare non-members to be invited in.
Respectfully I explain about the diener about to cut up the jacket and asked if anyone would like to take it. I also promised that as all the legal issues and procedures with the body were completed I’d call someone so they could put the jacket back on their brother’s body before burial.
I was always welcomed to visit the club house (called ahead) but only did that a couple of times. Whenever I met one of them in a restaurant or pizza house I was treated with great respect.
What impact will Trump’s tariffs have on the US economy and real estate market, especially with the recent announcement of additional tariffs starting next week?
Trump’s tariffs should not have much effect on the US real estate market. Rising cost of raw materials could raise construction costs.
US retail properties and offices are already suffering from high vacancy rates and low valuations. There are problems of refinancing. Many property owners have walked away to cut their losses, and leave it to the banks, the mortgagors, to take over the properties.
Home mortgages are running at about 7%. This has caused the market to be sedate. But Trump has said he will want or force the Fed to lower interest rates. You may be aware that the Fed has been fighting inflation in the last 2 years, and became more cautious in recent months.
I am not sure how this works. The Fed may not have full control of interest rates. Bond yields have risen in recent weeks. 10-year Treasuries are pushing 5%.
There will be inflationary pressures if he gets his way. There may also be pressures on the dollar exchange rate. Its strength had been due to high interest rates.
Trump’s tariffs would be inflationary, but there are now arguments that they may not be as inflationary as thought. The different assessments may be due to different assumptions about how high may be his tariffs. We have no details yet. So, stay tune.
What did you do when an aggressive driver got out of their car and wanted to fight?
About 4 years ago my daughter, 17 or 18 at the time was driving us to a relatives house. Admittedly she’s not (or wasn’t) a great driver and cut a guy off. The guy leaned on his horn and gave us the finger. My daughter waved as to say “sorry” and we continued driving.
about 1/2 mile up the road the guy crossed the lane, passed us, leaning on his horn again with his finger out the window. We come up to a red light and his car door opens, as does the passenger car door. 2 men get our and are screaming at us. The driver pops the trunk reaches inside and starts walking toward us with something (looked like a little league sized bat).
My daughter is freaking out now.
I reach to my hip, pull my S&W 3913 and tap the windshield with it as they’re screaming walking towards us from about 10 feet away from the front of the car. Both turned around and got back in their car and drove away. My next call was to the local police non emergency number. Explained what happened (including my daughter’s poor driving), explained that I had a CCW. gave them my name and cell number.
never heard from them or the drivers again. That afternoon we bought my daughter some OC spray. On here 21st birthday I signed her up for a CCW course and is now legal to carry in a multiple states as a 22 year old single woman living alone in a big US city (she had been shooting with me since she was about 5, starting with bb guns, air guns, 22’s and progressed through higher caliber pistols and rifles through the years)
Is the open source DeepSeek giving India a chance to catch up and beat China?
China never looks to beat anybody with technological innovation and growth
China always looks to use technology and development, to improve the life of their people and maximize the productivity of China
China isn’t a shallow country
It doesn’t live for plaudits from the world or live for appreciation
China has only a few goals and one of them is maximizing welfare of their people
Deepseek as a open source, helps train Deepseek and helps Deepseek learn more and more in a different context
Here is Deepseek giving me a Telugu poem, it’s transliteration and it’s meaning
Meta AI was unable to do so
The More Deepseek is used, the more it can evolve and the more it can become the ‘Google’ of the 21st century and become indispensable
India must make use of Deepseek and develop AI based applications that make people’s lives better
Not to create hair cutting apps and make instant billionaires
DeepSeek exposes a fundamental advantage of China’s system: their whole economy is open source
Yes. If there is ONE video that you need to watch, this is it.
The entirety of China is open source.
Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Chatty Farmer: A Tale of Piñatas, Vampires, and Feline Diplomacy
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of mystery, madness, and one very talkative piñata. Today’s story is one of peculiar behavior, unlikely alliances, and a cat who proved that even the strangest situations can be resolved with a little wit and a lot of patience. So, grab your sense of humor and a bag of candy (just in case), as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Chatty Farmer: A Tale of Piñatas, Vampires, and Feline Diplomacy.
The Farmer’s Peculiar Behavior
It all began on a quiet morning when the farmer emerged from the barn, carrying a piñata under his arm. This was not unusual in itself—Bartholomew the piñata had been a fixture on the farm for as long as anyone could remember. What was unusual was the fact that the farmer was having a full-blown conversation with it.
“So, Bartholomew,” the farmer said, setting the piñata down on a hay bale, “what do you think about crop rotation? I’ve been considering switching to a three-field system, but I’m not sure if it’s worth the effort.”
The piñata, of course, said nothing. But the farmer nodded as if it had responded. “Hmm, good point. I hadn’t considered the impact on soil nutrients. You’re a real genius, Bartholomew.”
The animals watched in stunned silence. Doris the hen was the first to break it. “What in the name of cluck is going on?!” she squawked, flapping her wings in alarm.
“Cluck!” Harriet echoed, tilting her head.
“Head!” Lillian added, fainting dramatically onto a pile of straw.
Even Rufus the dog, usually unflappable, looked concerned. “Is the farmer… talking to a piñata?”
“Talking!” Ditto the kitten echoed, popping up from behind a hay bale.
“Not now, Ditto,” I said, flicking my tail. “This is serious. The farmer is clearly losing his mind.”
Sir Whiskerton Investigates
Determined to get to the bottom of the farmer’s peculiar behavior, I decided to investigate. I approached Bartholomew the piñata, who was sitting on the hay bale with his usual blank expression.
“Alright, Bartholomew,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “What’s your game? Why is the farmer talking to you?”
The piñata, of course, said nothing. But I could have sworn I saw a flicker of mischief in his painted eyes.
“Fine,” I said, flicking my tail. “If you won’t talk, I’ll have to bring in reinforcements.”
Enter Count Catula
I knew I couldn’t handle this case alone, so I enlisted the help of Count Catula, the farm’s resident vampire cat. Count Catula, with his flair for the dramatic and his love of all things mysterious, was the perfect ally for this peculiar investigation.
“Ah, Sir Whiskerton,” Count Catula said, sweeping his velvet cape dramatically. “What brings you to my lair of eternal darkness?”
“The farmer is talking to a piñata,” I said, getting straight to the point.
Count Catula raised an eyebrow. “A piñata, you say? How… intriguing. Perhaps this Bartholomew is more than he seems. Let us investigate.”
The Great Piñata Interrogation
Together, Sir Whiskerton and Count Catula confronted Bartholomew. Count Catula, ever the dramatic, loomed over the piñata with his best vampire glare. “Speak, Bartholomew!” he intoned. “What dark secrets do you hold? What sorcery have you wrought upon the farmer?”
The piñata, of course, said nothing. But Count Catula wasn’t deterred. “Perhaps he requires… persuasion,” he said, baring his tiny fangs.
“Wait,” I said, holding up a paw. “Let’s try a different approach.”
I turned to Bartholomew and spoke in a calm, measured tone. “Bartholomew, we’re not here to hurt you. We just want to understand what’s going on. Why is the farmer talking to you?”
For a moment, there was silence. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, Bartholomew spoke. “Because I’m the only one who listens,” he said in a soft, papery voice.
The animals gasped. “He talks!” Doris squawked.
“Talks!” Harriet echoed.
“Echoed!” Lillian added, fainting again.
The Moral of the Story
As the shock wore off, Bartholomew explained that the farmer had been feeling lonely and overwhelmed. With no one else to talk to, he had turned to the piñata as a confidant. “I may not be able to respond,” Bartholomew said, “but sometimes, just having someone to talk to is enough.”
The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: Everyone needs someone to listen to them, even if that someone is a piñata. And while it’s easy to judge others for their peculiar behavior, a little understanding and compassion can go a long way.
A Happy Ending
With the mystery solved, the animals decided to help the farmer feel less lonely. They took turns spending time with him, listening to his stories, and offering their support. Even Count Catula, in his own dramatic way, made an effort to be more present.
As for Bartholomew, he remained a beloved member of the farm, though he no longer had to bear the burden of being the farmer’s sole confidant. The farmer, touched by the animals’ kindness, returned to his usual self—though he still occasionally chatted with Bartholomew, just for old times’ sake.
And so, dear reader, we leave our heroes with the promise of new adventures, new friendships, and hopefully, no more talking piñatas. Until next time, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and just a little bit of feline genius.
The End.