An Interesting Quote
The Chinese FM Wang Yi remarked to the press in his visit to Russia that “The US itself is sick but is forcing others to get treatment ..."
Yes. That’s spot on.
…
Today, I want to talk about my second wife’s mother. This is the woman who helped put me in prison, stole all my belongings, destroyed my career, and make sure that I would be labeled as a Cho Mo for the rest of my life.
And you know what?
Yeah, she had a mental illness. I know that because my psychologist (who helped me with my first wife), was given permission to interview her on my behalf on the premise of “working disagreements out between the both of us”. And yeah. She sad that she had serious… SERIOUS issues.
And unlike my first wife, who was only schizophrenic with Bi-polar episodes, my second wife had some very deeply rooted illnesses that were sociopath in nature, with a psychopathic bent.
Anyways, I don’t want to talk about HER.
I want to talk about her mother.
You see, mental illness runs in families, and her mother was… strange.
For one thing, and that is what we are going to talk about right here, she tore up her perfectly manicured lawn. Covered it in AstroTurf, and then planted plastic flowers in it. It was fine in the spring. It looked like a gardener had a manic episode, but in the winter, fall and Summer it looked rally off. Especially when the flowers would get dirty.
Now, there’s something wrong with a person that wants their house to look like Munchkin Land year round. And it’s more than “Different strokes for different folks”. But…
But…
Why couldn’t I see such blatant mental illness when it was assaulting every sense in my body?
Be frosty guys.
Be frosty.
Today…
What is the best parenting tip to bring up a secure and confident child?
By honoring the child’s true individual self, without the parent imposing their own desires and insecurities and fears onto the child.
A child is born on earth for a purpose which is specific to them, so the parents are doing their children a great disservice by deciding things for them based on “safety” and “conventional “wisdom.” It is deluded and presumptuous to think that what is hard or impossible for a parent also holds true for their child. Their child is a different person in a different situation with different baggage and this previous lives than them.
A flower only blooms if it is supported correctly based on what it needs. It grows on its own with its own methods once the right support is available.
I was fortunate in my upbringing for two reasons: (1) I had a brother whose intuitive style was the shadow of mine and we were only 2 years apart in age, and (2) a wise mother who could understand that both of us needed different experiences and treatment to fully be and express ourselves. It requires nuance to not use a one-size-fits-all philosophy to life.
My Jungian personality type is the INTJ with a functional stack of Ni-Te-Fi-Se, and my brother is an ENTP whose stack is Ne-Ti-Fe-Si. Where his functions are extroverted mine are introverted and vice-versa, and this means that we operate completely differently in the same situations and in the situations we want to create and be in.
He loves to explore possibilities and to have experiences with his group of friends (Ne-Si). He learns from pondering on those experiences and analyzing them at a later time to predict what could have happened if something had been different (Ne-Ti-Si). His motivations for doing things involved the collective (friends, community, etc.), which manifests as the extraverted Feeling Fe.
In contrast, I liked to build abstract models and webs of inter-connected concepts, and then run mental simulations, based on data and observations which were collected firsthand (Ni-Se). I learn from figuring out where my models needs more critical data, and then creating just the experience for myself which I need to acquire the data, and I can find an efficient drama-free way to do this with my extraverted Thinking function Te. The reasons I have for doing things are my own and have little to do with the collective, which is personified by Fi.
For me, the best thing my parents did was get out of my way by giving me the freedom to craft my experiences and use my time as I saw fit, and to be judicious in how they handed me resources for my goals, since money was tight. I quickly learned to be efficient with our means from my parents. I also benefitted from their feedback and conversations around the dinner table regarding my plans and ideas.
The best thing they did for my brother was to protect and support him in situations where some authority is mad at him for testing boundaries and creating social unrest. When the teachers would call my mom to school to criticize my brother’s ringleader behavior, she would later pretend to scold him in front of the teacher, but later say that tell him is OK and whatever he did isn’t a problem. His way of learning involves creating interesting social situations, which is naturally disruptive for teachers trying to control a classroom of 40 students. A parent’s job is to help their child thrive and fully understand themself, not to make life convenient for school teachers.
We both benefitted from plenty of unstructured time to do whatever we liked because our parents trusted our judgment and their own ability to step in just when needed, but not too early to rob the child of a valuable learning experience. My brother and I spent a lot of time playing together so we could both naturally develop our intuition in both introverted and extraverted dimensions (Ni and Ne) through joint playtime.
Life gets a lot more colorful and interesting when you realize just how many ways there are to achieve something, and which one is best is completely dependent on you and your unique strengths and interests. It is a tragedy for “sleeping” parents to collapse all these countless probabilities into just a handful based on the parents’ own limitations and experiences which have nothing to do with their child.
Not just any Indian diplomat, Indian PM Modi himself is now saying “relations between India & China are now normalising”, doesn’t it mean Xi Jinping’s ‘stick first, carrots later’ approach with India did actually work despite objections by doubters?
It’s been 5 years!!!
India lost a potential $ 200 Billion investment into Green Energy ($ 80 Billion from 2021–2030) , Manufacturing Supply Chains ($ 60 Billion from 2021–2030) & Automobile Joint Ventures ($ 33 Billion from 2021–2030)
India lost a chance to form Joint Ventures between Jio & We Chat, Jio & TikTok and form JVs to set up 14 Data Centers
There was a 26 point proposal between India & China negotiated in 2017 including India becoming a member of the RCEP which meant 80% of Chinese Imports, Korean, Vietnamese and Japanese imports would be duty free and help India manufacture electronics at 67% of the original price
Indias excuse back then was spurring on Domestic manufacturing
Instead Manufacturing as % of GDP fell from 16.28% to 13.37%
So what did Xi do that worked?
India acted like stupid egoistic prima donnas fuelled by Idiots who don’t know “E” of economics and their equally moronic sycophants
Now that Trump has made it clear he expects India to invest money in the US and bring back manufacturing to the US, India has NO CHANCE of any western backing to industrialize it’s economy
The EU is cash strapped
The Japanese and Koreans are already saturated
China is the only option left
And China is not interested anymore
These are just stupid words
All they mean is that China won’t invade and take up any more Indian territory
Savory Onion Brisket
Yield: 8 servings
Ingredients
- 1 (4 1/2 pound) beef brisket, untrimmed
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/4 cup white wine vinegar
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 2 tablespoons ketchup
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 2 teaspoons pepper
- 1 envelope dry onion soup mix
- 1 cup water
Instructions
- Brown brisket in hot oil over high heat for 5 minutes on each side.
- Place brisket into a lightly greased 13 x 9 inch pan.
- Stir together vinegar and next 6 ingredients. Pour over brisket. Add the water to pan.
- Bake, covered at 350 degrees F for 2 hours, basting every hour.
- Reduce heat to 300 degrees F and bake 1 more hour.
- Skim fat from drippings. discarding fat; serve drippings with brisket.
Will Taiwan be reunited by China in 2025? What happens when Taiwan is returned to China?
I am not sure whether Taiwan will be unified in 2025, but it shouldn’t be too long.
After Taiwan is unified, mainland China can help Taiwan solve many problems.
Taiwan has always had problems with water and electricity shortages, and mainland China has rich experience in solving these problems.
Taiwan is located in an earthquake zone. Every time there is an earthquake, as long as the disaster is serious, some victims will have no houses to live in. At this time, it is necessary to build some temporary shelters and rebuild their homes after the disaster. Mainland China is the world’s number one in infrastructure. During the COVID-19 pandemic, mainland China was able to build a new hospital in a few days. Therefore, after Taiwan is unified, there will be more protection for ordinary Taiwanese people who are affected by natural disasters.
In addition, there is public security. There is a movie in Taiwan called “Zhou Chu Eliminates Three Evils”.
When the movie was released, many people in mainland China said, “Ah, Taiwan is just such a small area, can’t it even catch a wanted criminal?”
Sorry to make everyone laugh, this movie is indeed adapted from real events in Taiwan.
In fact, many ordinary people in Taiwan do not understand mainland China. They don’t know that mainland China has its own satellites, “Compass navigation system”, and “Chang’e”. After Taiwan is unified, it will be useless for criminals to hide on the moon. public security will be significantly improved, and the lives of ordinary people will be safer.
Hong Kong is a very prominent example. Before Hong Kong’s return, kidnapping, bank robbery, extortion, and intimidation occurred frequently in Hong Kong. For example, Andy Lau was once threatened by gangsters with guns to force him to film, and Jet Li’s agent was shot dead. After Hong Kong’s return, all these underworld forces collapsed.
Man Poses as Poor Bricklayer for True Love – Women Regret Humiliating Him
This was a great watch.
My 14-year-old daughter won’t clean her room. I can’t fight with her every day. What should I do?
We have 2 daughters and they shared a room most of their childhood.
Their dad and I got tired of the battle to get their room cleaned and chose to stop arguing. First I tried the whole not doing their laundry unless it was in the hampers nor would I put their clothes away. That didn’t work quite as well as I had hoped as when they eventually ran out of clothes they would bring close to 8 loads out AFTER I had finished laundry. Then it was they had to do their OWN laundry. The washer was continually left with wet clothes that SMELLED and always had clothes sitting in the dryer.
Dad finally had enough and as he got home before the daughters did…….he grabbed a hamper and took ALL of the bedroom dirty clothes, stuff left in the washer and dryer, and clothes from the bathroom outside. We had a decent sized tree in front of the house. Dad brought out a ladder and hung all of their clothes in the tree.
When the girls got off the school bus (Right close to our house)…….the entire bus of their peers got to see their dirty bras, underwear, and everything else all hung from the tree. You never saw 2 girls get off a bus so fast jumping trying to grab their clothes out of the tree. When they went inside crying and yelling at their dad, he warned them. Every time their room was not clean with clothes in the hamper and put away when clean, they would find their underthings especially hung from the tree for all their friends to see.
He DID have to do it one more time as the girls thought they could get away with it……..but, never again after that.
Update: For those that want to tell how we basically did “child abuse”………This was also 20+ years ago and it worked. Our daughters were very hardheaded and we started with all the “new discipline”, talks, taking things away, grounding until the room was clean, etc. And while you may not agree with our tactics, our children have actually THANKED us as they got older for the “tough love” we had to do periodically. I am also the mom that showed up at underage drinking parties and pulled my oldest daughter out of it, also breaking up the rest of the group as I “momma’ed all their behinds. (To the delight of the neighbors who were all outside cheering me on. Even the kids talk about it to this day that my daughters momma didn’t take crap from anybody) I am the momma that went to school with her youngest daughter sitting in on ALL her classes to make sure she quit BSing around in class. I am the momma who caught her daughter skipping school to hang out with her boyfriend with 2 of her friends on the day I was set to go to the hospital to learn how to take care of their dad so he could go home so they thought they were safe. I tagged her phone to see where she was and pulled up on them. (The school had Zangle which showed grades and absences and I just so happened to check) So here was momma in pajamas and slippers dragging 3 kids in to the principals office for discipline and refusing to allow MY daughter to go sit in school suspension. Instead I had her helping janiters clean while I stood there in pajamas and slippers with arms folded so ALL her friends could see. She never skipped school again. Everyone knew who I was as I also worked for the school district and my husband and I worked with many of the athletic teams doing pictures for the yearbook or helping to coach.
BUT………I am ALSO the momma that would fight tooth and nail for my daughters if they were in the right. After my youngest busted a boy in the nose that was continuously grabbing my daughter with no assistance from the school officials after repeated complaints, I refused the school mandate of suspending her for defending herself. I threatened to file charges against both the boy and the school for assault. And while they “said” she was going to be suspended for a week for trying to break his nose (As I taught her to do only in self defense), I showed up at school with her to be sure that didn’t happen. I fought a tenured teacher that was an extreme racist for abusing not only my daughter but, every child of any darker skinned race. I actually had another childs mother thank me. My oldest needed some extra help in school that she wasn’t getting after she repeatedly sought help out……yep, here comes momma.
SO not only did I provide “tough love”……….I was also their biggest defender………and always will be. They call me to this day for advise knowing I will only speak my truth. Was I the perfect parent…….of course not. But, my children were loved.
Write a story with a character or the narrator saying, “I remember…
Written in response to: “Write a story with a character or the narrator saying “I remember…”“
Julija Veljkovic
Coming here was a mistake. Yet it’s a symphony we’ve repeated every summer for the last ten years without fail. When the corporate world half-grudgingly takes a vacation, Greg and I unite as rekindled flames, learning the language of desire that’s only faded with age and wear and tear. The lakehouse is our tradition, our way of repenting for the missed dinners and cinema outings, the I’m-too-exhausted-tonight excuses, and rolling on the other side of the bed as neighbours rather than lovers. The widening chasm has only grown over the years, and yet we cling to all that’s familiar—this wooden floorboard of a lake house and wide French windows looking out into the depths of green. This five-bedroomed house houses our fallen dreams, with three miscarriages yawning open the space between us. Broken promises and fallen expectations are a thousand deaths in a marriage.
Greg looks up at me and frowns his poetic frown, breaking my dank spell. I offer him a grin that feels more like a grimace, and he sticks his pink tongue out in a flash. I playfully roll my eyes at him, and he smacks his lips theatrically at me. That’s what I am to him now. A plaything.
I feel myself pulling back, withdrawing deeper into the lawn chair, and his eyes darken with comprehension. The silence stretches on. He’s the first to break contact, offering me a half-baked shrug as if to say, you’re not my responsibility anymore. He plunges back into his crossword puzzle, and the curtains snap shut. Even the way we joke has wilted away to the bone.
I drop my gaze down to my long legs. God, it’s been a long time since I’ve been touched. Wanted. I take another sip of lemonade, enjoying how the acidity slides down my empty stomach, burning the bitterness away. In the thickness of this holiday, I have woken up drenched and stir-crazy with desire, yet when reaching over for a warm body, I have only been met with the empty dip in the mattress where my husband should have been.
On the nights that I feel adventurous in my skin, I pad over to the deck naked and watch him watch the stars, a joint dangling from his lips. He’s a gentle flame in the pitch dark, and it’s in these moments that I am most tender. We used to spend hours wrapped in each other’s limbs, dissecting the sky, the moon, the universe. Memory stitches us together; snippets of life live on while we die in the present. In these moments, I don’t call him back to bed. I let him escape because I know better than to imprison a man with words. Men will either come to you at their own volition or roam free, untethered by expectations.
Greg is good at keeping secrets. Over the years, I’ve found credit card receipts that mismatch tales of business trips, unknown phone numbers from Saudi Arabia flashing on his screen when he’s in the shower, and once, when I dodged work to sneak in a Pilates class, I caught him chatting to a woman with blood orange hair and a lip piercing outside by the studio. He thought I was at work.
My mum warned me about him. A Pulitzer Prize poet will always live in his head. He will sacrifice everything for words. And he has. Sacrificed us for spells of inspiration and glory.
I watch him from a safe distance now, my Aviator sunglasses shielding my thin eyelids from direct sunlight. I used to get butterflies staring at him. And now? I feel exhausted.
It’s lonely being a woman at the top. You’re always caught in the lines of duty and aggressive masculinity. I’ve spent the better part of a decade chomping and backstabbing my way to the top as the CEO of Unmatched, an AI startup. What we’re building is the future, the first sentient beings who’ll take over our housework and save us from the tediousness that comes with folding socks and ironing crumpled creases. I have sludged on and slayed the hours of the day in search of this bright Northern star that will save civilisation from unproductivity, so much so that nothing remains but the remains of the day. No friends to call friends, no husband who desires me, and no hobbies to speak of.
I got into an argument with Greg once and his pretentious philosophy friends over Lebanese barbeque. How could I be spending so much time building a product that will ultimately destroy humanity? What would happen if these very sentient beings turned on us? I argued my way in favour of progress, revolution, and intelligence. Greg laughed my profession off, muttering how I preferred robots to human connection in front of everyone. That one still stings.
He doesn’t see me anymore. Coming here is my attempt to remain visible. Here, I let myself go just enough to pretend that my life is one big happy fairytale. But it’s not. It’s a short story, starting and ending much too fast.
Greg once told me, my work is what killed our dream of starting a family. The thought alone makes the familiar jaws of anxiety cling to my throat, and I jerk myself upright in an attempt to chase away the sludginess of sadness.
“More lemonade?” I call out, my honey-dripping voice bouncing off against the bubbling, sputtering pool.
Greg looks up at me quizzically as if I have the audacity to speak and interrupt his world-solving puzzle.
“Huh?”
“I asked, do you want more lemonade?”
He scratches the stubble adorning his sharp jaw. The years have been kind to him.
“I’m a second away from cheating myself out of this puzzle. It’s killing me.”
I bite my bottom lip down. He ignores, and interrupts, and talks over me. It drives me to ruin. I am about to call him out on it, but the doorbell rings, saving us both an argument.
I flip my sunglasses upright and cast Greg a curious glance.
“Expecting anyone?”
He shrugs. “Whoever that is, maybe they’ve come to help me get unstuck.”
The bell rings again insistently.
Irritation stirs in my gut. “Are you going to get that?”
“Can you, sweety? I’m in the middle of something.”
And I’m not? I have an urge to bite back, but I take a deep breath in to work those irritation knots. I’m too worn out for a stupid fight.
I wrap my towel around me for decency and walk back inside the cool shade of the house, padding across the hallway in bare feet until I am by the front door. I hover over the peephole, hesitating before I peer through.
A man with straight black hair and yellow eyes stares back at me. A perfect set of white teeth flash and disappear just as quickly. Yellow eyes. That can’t be right. It must be a trick of the twisting light.
“I can feel you hovering, you know,” the man with yellow eyes says. His accent is indistinguishable. He could be Kiwi, Canadian, English, American, or neither.
Goosebumps crawl up my spine. I feel vulnerable and defenceless. Instinctively, I wrap the towel more tightly around my prickly skin and hold my breath, praying that he will spin back around and go to wherever having yellow eyes is normal.
“Let me in, Tamara,” he says.
Tamara. How does he know my name?
I have a sudden urge to yell for Greg, but something holds me back. Because I know yellow eyes. I have seen them before, somewhere. Furiously, I rack my brains for the connection. I feel myself at the tip of discovery, but the man with the yellow eyes beats me to the punchline.
“You created me.”
Everything snaps into place. I remember now. The long hours shut up in our penthouse attic. Quibbling with Giovanni, our mathematician, about the numbers not making sense. Combing over formulas until the capillary in my left eye burst from tiredness. The prototype Jen came up with at the lab. Amanda. She had yellow eyes and straight black hair. We created the perfect servant.
“But how?” I manage to stammer out through the door. I can feel my heartbeat fluttering against my ribcage like a vulnerable bird.
“Let me in, and I will explain everything.”
“How can you even talk? Did you drive up here?”
“Let me in, and I will answer all your questions.”
“And if I don’t?”
Silence ensues. I hesitate before asking the next question.
“I suppose you have a name?”
“Greg.”
I jerk back as if the door bites. This must be some kind of sick joke.
What would happen if I let this strange artificial creature in? Would he stab me to death in my bikini? Fuck my brains out? Hang out with my husband by the pool?
I have a sudden urge to call Giovanni, but Greg is one step ahead of me.
“I’ve been released from my obligations. I am here to show you what I can do. Who I can be for you.”
“Did Giovanni send you?” I throw back.
Greg chews on his lip, the glint in his yellow eyes getting shinier.
“I cannot rat out my Master. You’re on the cusp of the biggest creation this planet has ever seen. Are you going to let me show you what I can do?”
I am about to answer, but Greg—the real Greg—comes up behind me.
“What’s going on?”
I spin around, my hand over my throat. “I, eh, Greg, I have something to show you. Don’t panic.”
I gesture toward the peephole, motioning for him to come closer, to see for himself, and he does just that. I watch his jaw widen, his Adam’s apple popping up in that way when he’s stressed.
He casts me a puzzled look. “Why does he have yellow eyes?”
I shake my head once, warning him to let it go, to spin back around and go back to the pool deck in the safety of the sun, but I married a curious horse of a husband.
His hand stills over the chain lock, locking us in. Without warning, he scrambles with the lock and opens the door to confront the man with yellow eyes. I protest and shout for Greg to step back, but it’s too late.
It only takes a second, a split second of distraction, for everything to change like a body horror flick.
The man with yellow eyes lunges at Greg, his sausage-thick fingers wrapping around Greg’s neck and squeezing and pressing with such severe violence that Greg gurgles, turning purple on the spot. He’s about to dislocate his neck—I know it. He is seconds away from death when the adrenaline surging through my blood slaps me into motion. I howl and run, jumping over the man with yellow eyes from behind, my bikini strings sliding against his plaster-firm skin.
I beat my small fists over his unnatural body and dig into his eyes, pressing and pressing, hoping to rip into eyeballs, but instead of being squishy and soft, they’re made of steel.
I made this.
The creature bats me away like a boring bee, and I fly across the room, crashing on my wrist, which twists and snaps on impact.
I let out a blood-curdling scream. It’s over in seconds. Greg falls on the ground like a sack of potatoes, lifeless eyes staring in horror up at the ceiling. He’s gone.
I gasp and whimper, trying to crawl away, but the creature has other plans for me.
“Don’t run from the inevitable truth. I am here to clean pests. Nobody wants to deal with pests. Nobody—” the man with yellow eyes stutters. His neck jerks left and right. He takes another step forward and then collapses face-first on the ground. It looks like some sort of malfunction.
Whimpering, I try and get up, but my knees cave again. Without warning, bile and vomit climb up. I lean to the side and puke the meagre contents of my lunch. I retch and sob at the same time, horror blooming in my gut at the realization of what’s unfolded.
Greg is dead. My husband is gone. And it’s all my fault.
I lie like that for a long time, a fallen angel on her deathbed, ready to die and be reborn again. From afar, sirens shriek and wail. Maybe Giovanni called them. We have little chips installed in our prototype robots. It was my idea to monitor their interactions and movements through their eyes. I wonder what the footage would show now. Greg, choked to death.
I shake with such violence that, for a brief moment, I think I’m having a seizure. Minutes slide on. My ragged breath eventually stills as a thought takes hold. I’ve poured years of my life into robotics and artificial intelligence. It’s taken losing my husband to understand that these creatures are the death of humanity. As the creator, it’s my responsibility to end them. And end them I will.
I close my eyes and drift off just as I hear a van door slide open and footsteps run up the gravel road to our house.
What are some job search “dealbreakers?”
I recently quit my job as a laser R&D engineer at Intel, after working there for 7 years. I am now ready for a new chapter in my professional and personal life, which involves moving to a new country, and working in a startup as opposed to a large organization. I have had my fill of the USA and large corporations.
I am applying to startups which are design houses for integrated photonics. A design house helps clients in designing photonics chips for their unique applications right from the conception phase to creating the final mask designs for their chips. It can also involve working with clients to find the right foundries to manufacture the designs.
I have a couple of main dealbreakers as I interview with various companies— (1) I will not touch any project involving AI applications, and (2) I refuse to use AI in my own workflow. I want nothing to do with AI. I am very protective of not allowing junk into my mental space, and there is no bigger mental junk out there than AI. Other people in the company are free to work on it, I just don’t want it on my plate. I know how to do my own research from original sources and how to write my own sentences.
I believe that AI has set human creativity, individuality, curiosity, agency, and intelligence back by decades, and it is only going to get worse as more sheep blindly follow the trend. AI makes people blindly believe whatever the “authority” tells them, and it is a poor way to educate oneself, since AI can never answer the fundamental question “why?” and it can never create new solutions or answer new questions in a satisfactory manner from first-principles. It can only parrot what others have done.
A popular use of photonics chips is in AI accelerators, where light is used for training and inference of AI instead of electrons. My condition is that I will not work with clients in the field of AI, and I will not use any AI methods in my own work. Instead, I will work on projects in other areas such as data-communication and photonics-based sensing (using light to detect gases, distances, materials, etc.), and I shall do my work based on my understanding of physics and engineering.
I believe that AI is fundamentally anti-human, and makes humans devolve into mindless bots who lack the ability to reason and to find new creative solutions and ideas of their own. It makes people stupid and lazy. I won’t tell others what they should or shouldn’t do, but I will defend my own boundaries and values with everything I have. I want to keep my mental faculties in top shape, so I will do everything I can to keep the AI virus out of my space.
Pictures
China’s food safety is so bad why doesn’t the Chinese government care?
Well, people no longer smuggle infant formula from Hong Kong.
There’s no money to be made.
In the 2000s, there was a time when people didn’t trust food labels and certification, and rich Chinese families consumed only imported food, especially the children.
That age is over, with regulation, enforcement and education improving domestic food safety by leaps and bounds. What the average mainland urbanite consumes today is not only more affordable, but in many cases, superior in variety and quality to supermarket shelves in Tokyo and Seoul.
In upmarket stores, one can find blueberries from Peru, Thai durians, acorn-fed black pig ham from Spain, French champagne, blue mountain coffee from Kenya and wagyu steak from Japan. The Chinese are consuming top quality foodstuff from around the world.
Food scares are a thing of the past, because national baselines have been lifted several levels. Post-covid, most wild species have been banned from consumption, along with farming cessation.
I am willing to bet China is among the top for food safety and hygiene in the <$15k gdp per capita (nominal) bracket.
Just ask the >100m tourists who visited China in 2024.
Or the ~200,000 Hong Kongers who cross daily into the mainland. Hong Kong’s gdp per capita is >$55k.
Jon Stewart LOSES His Mind when he Realizes Elon Musk is ACTUALLY Right.
This was also another great watch. Amazing.
If you are part of a minority in the US, how do you respond to “where are you from”?
The two modes are as follows:
- If I sense this is a “where are you based out of” question, then I answer with my state of residence.
- If I sense this is a “where is your family from” question, then I answer “China.”
The trendline I have observed is that, over the past 10 years, the amount of (white) people asking me this question has diminished quite a bit. Beforehand I generally kept it in line with intent, because:
- I don’t care to prove that I am an American, because I believe quite strongly that this is ultimately a self-assertion deal when you are born here.
- Half of the people are trying to screw with me, but the other half are people who are curious, live in an environment where many others around them make this an unsafe question, but nevertheless have tried to approach me with a degree of bravery. I like this type of (white) American.
The unfortunate outcome is that the type of American I like has become more fearful of showing their curiosity. I am born and raised here, I know exactly how oblivious Americans are by default. What has transpired is that the good willed Americans are now suffering silently in ignorance because now they feel like they will insult us if they ask. Ergo, as the years have passed, I have made a more proactive effort to open up the floor and let the stupid questions get asked. Better me than either the thin skinned Asian* raised in an Asian bubble, or worse, the Asian wanting desperately to be white and takes offense at any threat to their image of assimilation. This has resulted in me having both a lot of white friends and also a reputation for being The Token Chinese Person in their life.
From my perspective, I quite dislike how many Chinese Americans have been pushing for this question to be suppressed out of this supposed desire for “normalizing our existence as Americans.” This seems stupid to me. We are not just Americans, we are both Americans and Chinese. I do not care for these self-whitening projects that some fragile Asian Americans embark on to protect themselves, I care for the cloud of ignorance, misinformation, and stereotype threat to disappear for all Chinese.
So to the OP and to my fellow Americans, ask away. If you’re one of those people who urgently needs a fist to the face, then the way you ask the question will out you anyways. If you’re one of the people who has no way to deal with That American, don’t worry, I get it. That American does not reflect on you by default. You are not insulting just because you want to stop being ignorant. You are asking because you can’t sort out all the conflicting information and/or you need a trusted source to guide you in understanding what this whole “China” business is.
Quite honestly, I have found that “where are you from” often turns into a conversation about sharing our hometowns and the folks. Isn’t that what good neighbors are supposed to do? Let’s get to knowing each other.
(Psst. Feel free to be both American and [European nation/ethnicity here]. You will have a more interesting life that way, esp. if you have to work for it.)
*And yes, I mean the US-minted label of “Asian” and particularly its novel set of qualities as written by the US framing of “the races,” along with all the people who performatively align to it.
How do military drills help China prepare for an invasion of Taiwan?
You’re overthinking it.
This is a drill for the U.S. to see.
To observe the U.S. reaction.
If Taiwanese people aren’t foolish, they’ll also look to the U.S.
And if the U.S. stays silent,
Then that’s just fine.
I’d like to mention one more thing. It doesn’t feel like a big deal, but it’s really hard not to make the connection.
In the exercise poster released by the Chinese military this time, the two Chinese characters mean “advance, get close to the enemy.” However, due to the ambiguity of Chinese, these two characters also carry another somewhat risqué meaning: “penis entering vagina…” Furthermore, the Chinese word used for “launching missiles” or “firing artillery” is the same as the word for “ejaculate.”
This makes it almost impossible not to draw a connection. It seems to imply: “I’ve already penetrated; if you move again, I’m going to fire (ejaculate.)…in the hole ?”
This is extremely rare in China, such a frivolous joke. Perhaps I’m getting old, and now the military propaganda department is full of young people.
By the way, choosing April 1st for the exercise is not because it’s April Fool’s Day today, but because 24 years ago on this day, the Sino-US South China Sea collision occurred.
Major Wang Wei of the Chinese Air Force, piloting the J-8II aircraft numbered 81192, crashed, and Martyr Wang Wei lost his life.
Westerners might forget this incident, but the Chinese people will not.
There are always fresh flowers laid in tribute at his grave.
And fighter jet models too.
We now have much better fighter jets.
//I updated this answer. Because just a moment ago, something made me genuinely feel too old. Under a mobile game from mainland China, many young people from Taiwan left comments hoping for a swift unification.
And do you know why? Since I don’t play mobile games, I might not get it exactly right, but the gist should be correct: this mobile game is set to release a highly popular new character on the mainland China server, but not on the international server (which includes Taiwan).
These young people believe that once military unification happens, they’ll naturally be reassigned by the game company to the China server instead of the international one, and thus gain access to this new character.
This isn’t a joke—they seem to be taking it very seriously.
What a dark sense of humor. The grand events of nations, ethnicities, and history have somehow bizarrely intertwined with a frivolous mobile game 。
What’s it like to get cancer treatment in a country with universal healthcare versus one without it?
I live in a country with universal healthcare. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in early 2022,
Pqq a routine mammogram.
After the mammogram found that a previously identified cyst had changed size and shape, I was immediately given an ultrasound; after that confirmed the changes, I was taken for a biopsy. All within 30 minutes of the initial mammogram.
I was pretty sure by that point that it was cancerous: I got confirmation of the diagnosis, I believe, within 2 days, once the biopsy results were back
The Oncologist spoke with me to discuss the next steps, and surgery was scheduled, leaving enough time for other procedures to take place. I had my surgery: and after a couple of weeks to allow the incision to heal a little, I had 5 sessions of radiotherapy.
All of my treatment options were decided by thd medical profesdionals involved in my care. I am under the care and monitoring of the Breast Nurses for 5 years following the surgery, and can contact them at any time if I have questions or concerns.
If, at any point the cancer returns, or I develop any other form of it, I will be treated without question or hesitation – there will be no refusal of coverage due to a ‘pre-existing condition’… that simply is not how healthcare works here
No insurance companies for my Dr’s or the Oncologist to consult. No pharmacy management companies to decide whether or not I can have the medications my consultants deem necessary: and no bills.
Just to add. If I’d had someone living with me, who could stay and monitor me for 12–24 hours as per protocol after a general anasthetic, I woukd have been able to leave the hospital within a few hours of my surgery. Because I live alone, and have no-one nearby, I was kept on a ward overnight, just to be sure I didn’t have any problems after the anasthetic, and was discharged the following day with a wound drain, and a specialist support bra, for which there was, again, no charge I have nothing but gratitude and the highest praise for both my care, and everyone involved in it. 3 years on, and I’m doing great.
Sir Whiskerton and the Snotty Surprise: A Tale of Goo, Germs, and Goose-sized Sneezes
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale so sticky, so utterly gross, that even the bravest among you might reach for a tissue. Today’s adventure begins with a mystery of mucus, a conundrum of… well, boogers, and a farm thrown into chaos by one very sniffly goose. So grab your handkerchiefs, steel your stomachs, and join me for Sir Whiskerton and the Snotty Surprise: A Tale of Goo, Germs, and Goose-sized Sneezes.
The Discovery
It was a crisp autumn morning on the farm, and I, Sir Whiskerton, was enjoying my usual sunbeam atop the barn roof—until a bloodcurdling shriek shattered the peace.
- “BY ALL THAT IS HOLY, WHAT IS THAT?!” Doris the Hen screeched, pointing a trembling wing at the barn door.
There, glistening in the sunlight like some unholy jellyfish, was a booger. Not just any booger. A monumental booger. A booger so large it could’ve been mistaken for modern art.
- “That’s not a booger,” Porkchop the Pig mused, squinting. “That’s a piglet.”
- “Piglet!” Ditto echoed, then poked the booger with his paw. SQUELCH. His paw stuck fast. “Stuck! Stuck!”
I sighed, adjusting my monocle. “Doris, please stop hyperventilating. Ditto, stop licking it—” Too late. Ditto’s tiny tongue made contact, and his face crumpled in horror.
- “Bitter! Bitter!” he gagged, flailing his trapped paw.
The Investigation
A booger of this magnitude could only mean one thing: a culprit with a spectacularly runny nose. I gathered the usual suspects.
- Rufus the Dog? Unlikely. His nose was perpetually damp, but his boogers were more… drizzly than glacial.
- Bessie the Tie-Dye Cow? She blamed “bad vibes” and offered to meditate the booger away.
- Wilma the Goose? Ah-ha. Wilma had been suspiciously absent all morning.
We found her in the pond, floating miserably, her beak dripping like a leaky faucet.
- “I’b fide,” she sniffled, then unleashed a sneeze so powerful it launched a frog into orbit.
The Science (and Shenanigans)
With Wilma quarantined (and the barn door now a biohazard), the farm descended into germaphobic madness.
- Doris draped herself in a makeshift hazmat suit (a feed bag with armholes).
- Porkchop declared the booger a “regional landmark” and charged tourists (the squirrels) acorns to view it.
- Ditto, still traumatized, hid in a bucket. “Never again! Never again!”
Meanwhile, Chef Remy LeRaccoon saw opportunity in the mucus.
- “Zis could revolutionize culinary adhesive!” he crowed, attempting to glue two pickles together with Wilma’s snot. (It worked.)
The Resolution
After a stern lecture on covering one’s beak (and a mountain of borrowed tissues), Wilma’s cold improved. The booger was scraped off with a shovel (which Porkchop then insisted on auctioning as “abstract art”).
Moral of the Story: Cover your nose—unless you want your legacy to be a barn-door booger.
The Aftermath
As peace returned, Ditto remained wary of all shiny surfaces. Wilma, now a walking tissue dispenser, apologized profusely. And me? I made a mental note: Never let Ditto investigate mucus again.
And so, dear reader, we close this chapter on a sticky note—but rest assured, the farm’s next adventure is just one unsanitary sneeze away.
The End.
Post-Credit Scene:
Chef Remy presents his latest invention: Snot-Based Glue™. The animals stare in silence. “Non, non, eet’s sterile!” he insists, licking the spoon. Doris faints.
Best Lines:
- “That’s not a booger—that’s a piglet!” – Porkchop
- “Bitter! Bitter!” – Ditto, the hard way
- “I’b fide!” – Wilma, mid-sneeze-apocalypse
Starring:
- Sir Whiskerton (Detective & Reluctant Mucus Inspector)
- Wilma the Goose (Patient Zero)
- Ditto (Sticky-Pawed Apprentice)
- Porkchop (Booger Connoisseur)
P.S.
Remember: A sneeze uncovered is a farm discovered—by germs.
How did a 7.7-magnitude earthquake in Myanmar cause a skyscraper collapse in Bangkok, 250 miles away?
This building is the tax bureau building of Thailand government，and the overall contract company is CREC 10 bureau，design of it isn’t from China
🧐
According to CREC’s WeChat public account I can already know the truth，it’s a true tofu mansion.
“The whole building used board pillar and core tube structure”
Board pillar system has already been proved always be extremely dangerous to used in high rise building. Board pillar system don’t have beam so they need the floor board to connect with pillar and core tube，the rigidity suddenly bend point actually need abstract algebra and stream pattern to calculate，which already overed the maths’ top range of civil engineering，this is based on the fact that civil engineering is an applied mathematics
In these pictures you can see the collapse has three periods and it all adapt to the typical collapse accident of board pillar system’s collapse mode：
Stage 1
The front side of the building that heading to earthquake center，some rigidity suddenly change floors (Usually is the floors that upper and lower pillar’s size changed most) happened pillar’s die cutting damage and made the floor board has tiny warped
Stage 2
The board warped cause pillar turn into incline standing and due to the upper dozens of floor’s big weight hit on this tlit pillar，total force overed its max axial compression ratio and made the pillar been blow out
Stage 3
The few dozens floors lost bearing and floor boards’ connect points turn into a single hinge system，let half side of the building bumped on core tube，such big force severe damaged the half side of core tube and made it break into two pieces and started tilting，then in another side’s pillar board system been left there with no support，then it also collapsed in that rigidity sudden changed floor，and the collapsed parts hit on the lower floors，made it also in ruins
Just because board pillar system is too dangerous，mainland China already banned use such structure to build high rises，low rise and underground parking lot isn’t be limited. In practice ，pillar board system still at least 20 times higher collapse risk than frame shear wall structure in construction sites. During 2009 to 2024，the low quality board pillar structure underground parking lot collapse or need rebuilt affair at least happened 10 times in China， while frame shear wall structure only has one time，this is based on the fact that China already has over 1.15 million high rise，the accident of lost life in frame shear wall high rise’s possibility even smaller than murder or tornado death rate in China
So why just left China a few hundred kilometers away，CREC’s construction site happened such big disaster？
——The design of this board pillar system mansion is finished by an Italian-Thailand combination design company，and the building codes in Thailand almost includes nothing about earthquake defense. Thailand’s most guilty in this earthquake is because they didn’t see real estate and high rise microdistricts as the core of economy. They would rather invest more in casino，hotels and sex trade industry.
Frame-shearwall or Frame-coretube high rises in China full of bearing structures
Board-pillar high rise in Thailand that almost empty in where need bearing structure
In Thailand，high rises usually only be used to as foreigner’s treating hotel，never be the home of their own citizens，as a country，it’s own citizen must more than foreigners so high rise’s safety risk is only limited in a small volume. CREC want do some international trade and it can only obey the local area’s industry limit and use the structure type which nearby construction site all using，and finally when a big earthquake come out，this kind of building must collapsed
Live Streamer Accidentally Exposes Truth About China: IShowSpeed’s Shocking irl Streams In CHINA
I heard that the main reason why armies were small in the Middle Ages was the rarity of swords and spears. How difficult was it to produce a sword or spear in the Middle Ages?
You’ve heard wrong.
Swords were quite expensive, since it’s labour-intensive – it simply takes a long time for a skilled blacksmith to make one – but it wasn’t difficult. A spear is basically a pointed stick, and could easily be produced in the thousands at minimal expense. Axes were also common, and as easy to produce as spears. Lack of weaponry was simply never an issue.
There were two other problems – both related to logistics.
First of all, economics. At the time, any specialist who was not directly involved in food production was expensive. Keeping an army means you’re not keeping farmers – and farmers were what kept the economy going; you needed lots of farmers to keep an army fed. If you look into wars right up until the late 1700s, they were divided into “summer campaign” and “winter campaign” primarily because that’s when people could be spared from agriculture – in winter nothing grew, in summer it mostly grew of its own accord, while spring was for sowing and autumn was for harvest. (Also, in the modern era, roads became too muddy to pull cannons.)
Second, that whole “keep an army fed” was incredibly difficult. Storing food was extremely difficult – no refrigeration and no canning meant food had to be either dried or provided fresh, and dried food could no be transported over long distances without getting wet and spoiling; also, long term storage of dried food exposed it to rats and mice. (One exception was dried fish; it gets rock-hard, lasts forever, and is very energy-dense compared to e.g. grain. The abundance of fish suitable for drying was one huge reason why Europe had so many wars compared to the rest of the world.)
Time for a hug.
Written in response to: “Write a story in which someone time-travels 25 years or more into the past.“
Frankenwayne Frankenwayne
Sally cautiously approached the cylinder. Not taking a chance sedated subject number fifteen before removing the recording device. Plugging it into viewer and compared it to the test footage from the same spot. They were the same.
Cheers and high fives, as Frank opened his desk drawer and removed a bottle of champagne. “A toast to the crew that hes done the impossible. History was made tonight.” Frank picks up the photo of the 3 of them from his desk. They all look at it. “Wow! Is that really us twenty-five years ago.” Sally saw the smile leave Bob’s face “Sorry.” She said. “This is the day Betty died isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Bob said then continued. “Yes we had just started the research on project HP223. A week earlier than expected. In fact, we had just posed for that photo, before I went to pick her up. I even had hair back then.” Everybody laughed. “Our anniversary was just a few days away. We had such big plans.” All was quite as Frank and Sally did not know what to say.
Frank broke the silence first. “Sally what do you think is the best memory of those early days?” “It had to be the first time I met the two of you. I had just been hired and was coming to a new town and new people, the introduction was simple.” Frank and Bob broke out laughing. “That’s right, here we are at the governments first research facility to see if time travel was possible. All three of us were late.” Bob said. Sally waving her hands, “That’s right! If I hadn’t gotten onto the elevator at the same time as you two it would have been a different story.”
Bob laughing. “Frank that was a stroke of genius, having all of us set our watches back one hour. I wonder it took the director to realize that he had been duped.” “We have made quite a team over the years. The sacrifices all made to get to this point.” Frank said.
Bob shook his head. Sally and Frank did a group hug with Bob. “Thanks guys, I really appreciate you both.” Sally ask if Bob would like to meet one of her friends, to take his mind off Betty. “That’s okay. I think I’ll go to the park and put some flowers on the spot for her.”
Bob had stopped and got a small bunch of flowers and was gently laying them by a marker that the county had installed after the accident. As Bob reflected back.
It had been a cool and blustery day. They were young, full of dreams and ambitions. There had been an old bench here at the time. Better always loved to sit and watch the leaves blow in circles. Bob can still remember her touch as they embraced and kissed each other. Too late did he see the car barreling through the park out of control. It was over in a heart beat, as the car collided with the bench. Bob had been hit and had knocked ten feet in the air, left lying unconscious and bleeding.
Passersby and other witnesses saw the driver try to run but he was quickly subdued. Betty and the bench were ground up under the car. There was nothing anyone could do. The driver was high as a kite on drugs. The trial was short, the judge handed down the maximum that was allowed by law. After the trial Bob poured hid life into his work.
As Bob stood in the cool breeze. The leaves began to circle around, almost like they were embracing him. For a few fleeting seconds Bob thought he heard Betty’s voice in the wind. “I am waiting.”
Bob knew it was a risky move. He was willing to take the chance, as he headed back to the lab. Showing his ID to the guard, who then motioned him though. He scanned his pass and entered the lab. Switching on the lights and almost having a heart attack. Sally and Frank were sitting and their desk. “Forty-five minutes, longer than I expected.” Said Frank.
Bob stuttered out the words. “What are you all doing here?” Sally replied. “Did you really think we were going to let you do a really dumb thing by yourself. Did you?” The equipment was set in motion. The timer set to twenty-five years earlier and the right time of day. Bob stepped into the cylinder. His last words were. “You guys are the best.” The flash of blew-white filled the lab. Bob was gone.
Setting on the bench at the park, kissing Betty. He saw the car out the side of his eye. Holding her tight, whispering, “I love you.” The car plowed them over.
A flash of blue-white light and the primate was back in the cylinder. This time it was alive. Cheers and high fives as the champagne was passed around. Frank picks up the photo off his desk. For a second Sally and Frank looked at the photo. Stan ask, “What’s wrong.” Sally said, “Nothing. It was probably a glare of the lights.” Frank went on, “This photo of the three of us”……
Is China trying to emulate Japan’s economic success? If so, what measures should they implement to reach that objective?
Why should China learn from Japan?
Unlikely. Japan’s economy has been stagnant for 30 years.
Thirty years ago, Japan’s per capita GDP was 90 times that of China; now it’s about 2.5 times. Assuming both sides maintain their current pace, how many years will it take for Japan’s per capita GDP to equal China’s? And when will it be 50% of China’s?
Let’s hand this question over to Deepseek (I’m pretty lazy…).
About 7.67 years later (roughly 8 years), Japan’s and China’s per capita GDP will be equal.
About 13.48 years later (roughly 13-14 years), Japan’s per capita GDP will be 50% of China’s.
In fact, I think it’ll happen even faster than that.
Japan’s pillar industries used to be home appliances, shipbuilding, and automobiles—especially automobiles.
Home appliances and shipbuilding have already been overtaken by China, and automobiles are next.
Once Japan’s auto industry collapses, Japan will be in serious trouble.
Japan is an island nation that emerged from the sea 6 million years ago, prone to earthquakes and tsunamis, unable to be self-sufficient in food, and with almost no mineral or energy resources.
Once its industry collapses, it will return to the position it held for thousands of years.
As the Japanese author Kenichi Ohmae once wrote in his book: Japan’s rise was fleeting and will soon revert to its historical status. I hope my countrymen can face this reality.
The most critical point is that, since the Tang Dynasty, Japan’s national policy has been to leave this barren, earthquake- and tsunami-prone island and invade China—yet it was easily defeated by China several times.
This led the Chinese to dismiss Japanese ambitions.
But Japan’s extremely barbaric and cruel atrocities during its invasion of China in World War II made the Chinese deeply wary.
Completely crushing Japan’s ambitions and ensuring it cannot rise again for at least 500 years is a consensus among all Chinese people.
As for how exactly to achieve this, I think history will provide the answer.
Pomegranate-Rosemary Brisket with Wine au Jus
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt
- 1/2 tablespoon whole peppercorns
- 2 sprigs fresh rosemary, leaves only
- 3 cloves garlic
- 1 (2 1/4 pound) brisket, trimmed of fat
- 1 (8 ounce) package baby portobello mushrooms
- 1 medium yellow onion, quartered
- 1 pomegranate, quartered
- 1 cup red wine
Instructions
- Heat the oven to 300 degrees F. Drizzle the oil over the bottom of a large Dutch oven.
- Using a mortar and pestle, spice grinder or small food processor, grind together the salt, peppercorns, rosemary and garlic until they form a coarse paste.
- Rub the rosemary-garlic blend over the brisket, then place the meat in the Dutch oven. Scatter the mushrooms, onion and pomegranate around the meat, then pour the wine down the side.
- Cover the pot and roast for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, or until the meat is fork tender.
- Transfer the brisket from the pot to a serving platter. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the mushrooms to the platter. Cover with foil and set aside.
- Pour the liquid in the pot through a mesh strainer into a bowl. Discard the solids. Return the strained liquid to the pot and set over medium-high. Simmer until reduced and thickened, about 10 minutes.
- Serve the jus alongside the meat and mushrooms.
So since these tariffs on China have been implemented and President Trump wants us to buy more US goods, what smartphones are made in America? I’m assuming Android and Apple Smartphones will be going up in price, correct?
A Toaster made in China would cost $ 9.23 more but still cost $ 56 cheaper than a US made Toaster
A Good Quality Chinese Forklift made in China would cost $ 2,200 more to the end user and yet cost half of what the Cheapest Forklift costs in the US
A Harvester Combine made in Ningbo would cost $ 163,000 versus $ 194,000 for one made in India and $ 419,000 for one made in Akron Ohio
Without the Tariffs the Chinese Harvesters would have cost $ 112,000 and Indian ones $ 157,000
The Made in US ones cost $ 256,000 more!!!!
So nothing is going to be made in USA except for what is already being made
IPhones will cost $ 197–274 extra in the US and Samsung phones will cost $ 86–179 extra depending on their models
Not really the numbers needed for returning back manufacturing to the USA
All that is going to happen is fewer orders will be placed due to higher costs for high value goods in the US