The Hiccup Horror

Yes.

There are different ways of looking at this issue. And I will cover a number of ways that this question can be answered.

Social Cohesiveness

Nations that win wars are nations that fight as one. The entire nation is mobilized, and everyone supports “the war effort”. This was as true as in World War I as it is today. Nations that are fractured and divided can not sustain long drawn out wars; these “wars of attrition”. And while the United States has many good things going for it, is is perhaps the most divided and fractured nation in history.

China is like a colony of ants. Everyone has a role, and they all work together. You stomp down on the ants, and they scatter and regroup. You torch one of the anthills and they move to the other hills, while trying to repair the damaged structures.

While the United States, on the other hand, is like a basket of kittens. You sit them down and they all go every which way. Everyone is an individual and NO ONE works together unless forced to do so.

In the real world, we all want to be like Michael Jordan, but most basketball games are won by teamwork, not by the lone superstar. China is one unified team.
 

Size

Very few people understand how enormous China is.

The population is over four times that of the United States. And everyone works together. China has used more cement last year than the rest of the world combined in all of history! China is one mega-cyberpunk mega-complex after the other. With massive 12 lane mega-highways in spaghetti ribbons that flow in and out of mountains, bridges that defy belief, and High Speed Rail that boggles the mind.

There are days in Hong Kong that walking is like being inside a can of sardines. You move like water, and if you are pushed into a direction you don’t want to go, well too bad for you.

While America is the land of open spaces, wide and long parking lots, and empty shopping centers. It is the absolute opposite of China.

The largest nation in size and ability tends to be the one that win conflicts. Such as how mega-enormous Russia is wearing down tiny Ukraine.
 

Strategic vs. Tactical Superiority

Many armchair generals like to parse the technical differences between weapon systems. “Oh, the MIG-25 is useless because it uses radio tubes”, and “Chinese military hardware quality is like those cheap SKS knock-offs that flooded the USA in the 1990’s”. And while there is some truth, not much, but some truth to this assertion, the fact is that wars are decided by strategic considerations. Not tactical considerations.

When it comes to strategic considerations, it is China that overwhelmingly has the advantage.

Resources, manufacturing ability, social cohesiveness, networked global community, and shared idea of purpose will win over a propagandized black-and-white cardboard cut-out narrative every time.

The nations that wins world war three is the nation that can ENDURE.
 

History

The United States fought China in 1950.

The United States lost and retreated in a rout. Then propagandized the loss as a “win” and a “victory”.

Movies taken at that time show a far different picture. Not only did the American (and allied forces) run from their positions, but the entire supply chain had to be bombarded by sea by the United States Navy as President Eisenhower’s troops did not have the time to retreat properly.

That, mind you, was when the United States military was at it’s strongest.

Since then… China has been studying and working, and rebuilding things step by step. And today, China is a fortress, it’s people are warriors, and while peaceful and nice, they will be ferocious if “push comes to shove”.

China won wars against the United States when it was weak and the USA was strong.

Now, the tables have turned, and China is ferociously strong, and the USA is a shadow of what it once was.
 

Technology

China is an above-peer competitor with the United States military.

This is well known and well understood. The difference lies in the way the military is used, and how it is used. That being said, no one really knows what China “has up its sleeve”. It is very secretive and closed about its abilities, and strategies.

But one thing is known. China has the oldest military in the world, the oldest Navy in the world, the biggest military in the world, and if that wasn’t enough…

...remember the Chinese wrote the book on how to wage war.
 

Picking sides

In a hypothetical war between the USA and China keep in mind that it would be global and the world would be forced to pick sides.

  • 15% of the world would be the USA and it’s allies.
  • 85% of the world would side with China.
In a USA-China war, the world will stand with China.
 

Today, I opened up a new YouTube account, and suddenly my feed was flooded about China-bad, China-failing, China technology losses, and “this is why” videos on everything wrong with China. Obviously the propaganda is is full swing.

But think about it…

If China was REALLY like this, you wouldn’t need to propagandize so heavily. It would be self-evident.

Remember, boys and girls, China is a peaceful nation…

Until it isn’t.

Don’t wake up the dragon.

 

Technology is advancing so rapidly. AI and all the things that it can do. I’m doing my best to keep up with it all. Lordy!

I made this little application using Google Gemini AI…

Today…

It is heartening to see that a new generation of young Chinese directors are beginning to abandon the ‘God’s-eye view’ — that is, using the form of art films to seek out the glimmers of humanity in individual Japanese imperial soldiers, focusing on the salvation of certain foreigners and the ‘mercy’ shown by some Japanese imperial soldiers toward Chinese civilians treated like lambs to the slaughter.

They have turned to documentary-style storytelling, using the most authentic perspective to recreate history. They are filming history as it was, raw and brutal. Documentary films are like sharp knives, piercing into history and into the hearts of certain people in the present.


The Chinese government and people have very complex feelings toward Japan.

The Chinese people view Japan’s invasion of China rationally and objectively, but as the Japanese government and right-wing elements distort and glorify its history of aggression, they are gradually losing patience.

The demands of the Chinese government and people are not excessive and have always been clear and reasonable:

they simply ask the Japanese side to face up to historical issues, restore historical truth, and sincerely reflect on the past, rather than distorting history, denying crimes, and glorifying the crimes of the Japanese Empire in textbooks, publications, and films.

Regarding the Yasukuni Shrine, we are asking the Japanese side to remove the memorial tablets of World War II war criminals. Those executioners in the war of aggression against China are not qualified to be treated as “heroes”.

The MOST BRUTAL CHEATING Scenario I’ve Ever Witnessed

A very, very interesting question! My sweet baby was and is one bad mamba jamba:

If you can make it out, the things with propellers on the front are our jamming pods, the spinning props generate the electricity required to run the pods. One would think that this would just light up the aircraft to SAMs, and you would be right 70 years ago.

The type of jamming you’re thinking of is what’s called barrage jamming. Basically, you take the RADARs energy, crank it up to 11, and it makes your buddies impossible to see through all the brightness. That didn’t work for long.

Our enemies ain’t stupid. Let’s just say you jam at 1KHz. The RADAR only has to jump a few Hertz to make it invisible.

Why do I bring up RADARs? Because that’s all a Growler is; it’s a miniature version of those big ass antennas you see. Our jamming jumps around so much you can’t get guidance on us. You’d have more luck and better success rates trying to home in on and destroy an F-16. Too bad those Vipers carry HARM and HTS and that’s just what they’re waiting for.

Bottom line, no Growler would ever get shot down in combat because it was jamming. Even air-to-air we’re the next best thing to true stealth. Those guys are just otherworldly and I would never want to go against them for real. My flight of 12 managed to take out one, and it was a complete mistake on his part. I won’t tell you what that mistake was, but 12:1 is a fairly decent ratio And we were all Top Gun/Top Shock (SFTI/GTI) grads. We were trying to figure out how to beat stealth because let’s face it, someone else is gonna figure it out (probably China). We STILL can’t figure out how to beat it, and we have a 40 year head start.

Now, an aircraft that’s been protected by a Prowler/Growler has never been shot down. How do you think enemies can target a plane that can hide an entire strike package? Growler emissions are all over the place. You couldn’t target one based on the emissions alone

Moon Shattered

Written in response to: Set your story in a place where the weather never changes.

 

Daniel Rogers

“You don’t take warnings well,” the Russian said as he sat in my booth.

Without moving my hand, I unsnapped my holster.

The Russian hailed a waiter, “Vodka, please.” He looked back at me, “I’m going to have to kill you now. You know that?”

I never took my eyes off him. It was unlikely he’d try anything in a crowded bar, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it.

“Not much of a talker?” The Russian took a drink.

“You’re doing enough for both of us.”

The Russian laughed, “Good one.”

A couple of LTF officers walked in. The Russian stared at them and laughed, “What jokes. The entire Lunar Task Force is nothing but a bunch of clowns. I killed two in New London last week.”

I know he’s lying. I would have heard about it, although I don’t doubt he has killed a few.

“You’re boring company. You know that?” He finished off his vodka just as the officers came to our table.

“Everything alright here?”

“You know it,” the Russian moved slowly with his hands in plain sight.

“Good. Make sure it stays that way.” They moved to the bar.

“Just because we’re prospectors,” the Russian shook his head. “Anyway, I don’t like killing a man without knowing his name.”

“Tango.”

“That’s not your real name.”

We locked eyes, measuring each other, killer to killer.

“I guess Tango will have to do. See you in the crater.”

I watched until he left the bar and called my company contact, Jeeves.

“The Russian just paid me a visit.”

“How unfortunate,” the British male voice sounded bored. “I’ll add a high-powered sniper rifle to your gear.”

“And a bullet-proof suit.”

“Those are hard to come by in a wasteland city, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“He took out Spec last month. Make it happen, or MoonCorp might never know if there are diamonds in that crater.”

“Spec? I didn’t know he was dead. That’s very unfortunate. Will you be able to deal with the Russian? Or should we hire another?”

“I’ll handle him. Just get me the suit.”

I took the monorail to the hotel district, watching my back. I wouldn’t put it past the Russian to make an attempt before we get anywhere near the crater. My gaze went to the projected blue sky and white puffy clouds of the city’s dome, reminding me of Earth. I’ve been here too long. I’m tired of fake sky. I know what’s on the other side-a wasteland of darkness and rocks, craters and chasms, hopelessness and death.

A drone flying outside my window shook me out of my ruminations. My instincts warned me to beware. Drones are as common in a lunar city as birds on Earth. However, a drone matching the speed and direction of a monorail doesn’t happen often, if at all.

Suddenly, two miniguns materialized from the drone. I ducked just as it opened fire. Shattered glass fell on me. Passengers screamed. I pulled my pistol, rolled the quad barrel to scattershot, and destroyed the drone. I scanned for more drones before holstering my gun.

After a grueling round of questions from the LTF, I finally made it to my hotel. The rifle and suit lay on my bed. These should give me an advantage in the crater, assuming I make it out of the city.

I grabbed the rifle to feel its weight and peered through the scope. To my horror, I spotted a gun pointed at me from the opposite building. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. I hadn’t loaded it. Just then, my window shattered, and a bullet grazed my cheek.

I fell to my knees and crawled to the corner, out of sight of the gunman. How is he always one step ahead of me? It’s like he knows where I’ll be before I do. Then it hit me-my phone. Jeeves gave it to me when I arrived. I almost threw it out the window, but then I had an idea.

I crawled to the edge of my bed, still out of sight of the window, loaded my rifle, and grabbed a drone from my gear bag under the bed. I secured my phone to the drone and entered Jeeves’ hotel coordinates.

If the gunman could track my phone, then he’d think I retreated to my safe house. I carefully used a mirror to see if he had gone. He had. I quickly dressed my wound to avoid questions, threw on my long jacket, and concealed my rifle.

I found a low-rise building whose roof would be perfect for my plan. I positioned myself and waited. An hour passed before the Russian took his shot. Jeeves’ window shattered exactly where the drone landed with my phone.

I saw the gun flash on the fifth floor of a building slightly to my right. I aimed for his head and fired. He instantly fell.

I walked to Jeeves’ place and looked through the shattered window. He lay in a pool of blood. The Russian hit him between the eyes—an instant kill. Jeeves betrayed me. It’s poetic justice that his asset killed him. The company who hired them must know there are diamonds in that crater. Or else, they would have never attempted to take me out in the city.

I hurried to the Russian before the LTF arrived. He lay where I shot him. For the first time in my career, the sight of death made me sick. He was just like me–a prospector. It’s just business. Nothing personal.

I saw myself lying in a pool of blood, like the Russian. I, too, will make a mistake one day and take one between the eyes. Suddenly, it began to feel very personal. I’ve had enough of this rock. The vultures can have it.

I looked back down at the Russian.

“Back at the bar, you asked for my real name. I don’t know why it’s important to you, but I owe you that much. It’s Tom. Nothing fancy. Just Tom.”

I left for the nearest shuttle port.

Tex Mex Beef Barbecue

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Ingredients

  • 1 (6 pound) beef brisket
  • 2 (16 ounce) bottles barbecue sauce (your choice)
  • 2 envelopes chili seasoning
  • 6 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 2 teaspoons lemon juice
  • 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
  • 1 cup chopped onion

Instructions

  1. Combine all ingredients, except the meat, in a large slow cooker. Stir well.
  2. Add meat and stir well to coat.
  3. Cover and cook on LOW for 10 hours or on HIGH for 5 hours.
  4. Remove the meat and shred.
  5. Return the meat to the slow cooker. Stir well.

In 1951, the government of Taiwan instituted measures to curb tax evasion that proved so effective that the total amount of tax collected in 1951 was almost three times the amount collected in 1950.

But before I explain how Taiwan did this, let’s talk a little about how tax evasion works.

One common method used to evade taxes is underreporting income, and then hiding the “extra” cash through money laundering or offshore accounts. But if the government knew about every transaction, it would know whether income was being reported accurately, and tax evasion would be much more difficult.

So, what if the government had consumers report their expenses? Suppose John buys a widget from Sam for $500. If Sam reports an income of $100 from the transaction (and hides the remaining $400) but John reports that the widget costed $500, the government knows that something’s wrong.

While this works in theory, there are two main problems:

  1. Consumers don’t typically keep meticulous records of their spending.
  2. The amount of paperwork required to evaluate every single transaction in the country would be overwhelming.

So, what if we tried a simplified approach? Suppose the government asked every consumer to furnish three random receipts per year. The taxation bureau will examine the furnished receipts and compare them to how the company reported those transactions. If the amount printed on just one receipt differs from the income the company reported from that transaction, the government will assume that the company underreported many more transactions… and stiff fines will follow.

“This is all very nice,” you might be thinking, “But what if companies deliberately print receipts incorrectly?”

Then, consumers have the right to demand a refund equal to the amount underreported.

“But what if companies simply don’t furnish receipts?”

Then, it becomes even more obvious that tax is being evaded. If an undercover agent buys something from a store and is not given a receipt, the company is fined.

“But what if consumers don’t keep their receipts?”

Ah, this is where it gets interesting.

In Taiwan, you’re given a special receipt every time you buy something.

Do you see the big number printed across the top? UF-32473705 is a unique number that identifies this transaction… and it’s also a lottery number.

Every other month, the government picks six random three-digit numbers. If any of the six match the last three digits of one of your receipts, you can turn in the receipt for a cash prize of NT$200 (US$7). Not extremely exciting… but I win the receipt lottery around three times per year. It’s just enough to convince me to keep saving my receipts in hopes that I just might win something small.

But there’s more.

Additionally, three random ten-digit numbers are chosen. If any of these numbers match one of your receipts, you can win NT$200,000 (US$6,700). I have friends who have won this prize more than once… but yours truly has terrible luck.

Finally, there’s also a NT$2,000,000 (US$67,000) prize and a NT$10,000,000 (US$300,000) prize. Last year, an “unclaimed $10 million prize” hit the news. They announced the place and date of the purchase… and everyone who shopped there that day tore through their pants pockets and sock drawers in search of that missing receipt.

Every time someone claims their prize, the government always checks whether that transaction was reported correctly. Businesses are now terrified of underreporting income because they don’t know which transaction will end up being audited.

It’s a brilliant system designed to put the burden of taxation on merchants. In theory, Taiwan can now cut personal income taxes because they receive hundreds of millions of dollars in added revenue from a system that only costs them tens of millions.

Although the government is still working on those tax cuts, I’m sure those who have won the $10 million prize are more than happy with this system.

The Female Dating Strategy…IS CRINGE AF

Having lived in Alaska, we were surrounded by large grizzly bears, and the largest weapon we had was a 30.06 rifle. I know that Grizzly bears have extremely hard bones, including their skull, and a bullet won’t penetrate the bone, just spread out on the outside of the bone and make an angry bear even angrier. You can find the story of “old Groaner’ on line. My family homesteaded on the Unuk river, where it happened. The person who shot the bear, Bruce Johnstone, and his brother Jack, were lifelong friends of my family.

The only way to reliably kill one quickly, is to shoot it in the eye, or right behind the shoulder, which will enter the heart, or into the mouth. Those are not very large targets to aim at when the thing is charging at you. My dad’s favorite tactic was to aim for the spine, which would disable the animal’s hindquarters, and then he would be able to safely get close enough to finish it off with another shot. We did not believe in leaving a wounded animal, any animal, to suffer,

I am not making any of this up, the attached picture is my mom on our homestead on the Unuk with a bear that she brought down with one shot, because it was making a habit of staring at her through the kitchen window every morning and stalking my dad and uncle as they walked off to work in the woods. They were loggers. We didn’t like killing bears, but then if a human expressed the same threats on human life, they would also be dealt with rather harshly.

This was in 1948 a few weeks before I was born.

 

Sir Whiskerton and the Hiccup Horror: A Farm in Need of a Cure

Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of involuntary spasms, misplaced blame, and the most unsettling yodeling this side of the pond. Today’s adventure begins with a hic—yes, just one—before spiraling into a farm-wide epidemic of diaphragm disasters. So grab a glass of water (hold your nose!), and join me for Sir Whiskerton and the Hiccup Horror.


Act 1: The Plague of the Unwanted “Hics”

It started at dawn. Doris the Hen, mid-dramatic rant about “the injustice of uneven straw distribution,” suddenly froze.

  • “I demand—hic—justice! And also—hic—WHO IS DOING THAT?!”

One by one, the farm fell victim:

  • Rufus hiccuped so hard he levitated.
  • Porkchop blamed “cursed carrots.”
  • Chef Remy, clutching a bubbling vial, gasped: Mon dieu… did my Experimental Tonic #47 do zis? …Probably non.”

Sir Whiskerton, ever the detective, assembled the animals. “Friends, we have a hiccup crisis.”

  • “Or,” Bessie whispered, “a spiritual awakening.” (She’d been hiccuping in rhythm with a tree.)

Act 2: The Great (and Terrible) Cure-Off

Attempt #1: The Scare Tactic

Whiskerton leapt from a hay bale, yowling: “BOO!”

  • Doris: Hic-laughs. “Oh, you scamp!”
  • Rufus: Hic-woofs. “Do it again!”

Attempt #2: The Yodeling Fish Intervention

The pond’s infamous Yodeling Fish surfaced, harmonizing:
🎶 “YODEL—hic—AY-HEE—hic—HOO!” 🎶
The hiccups synced. Now the entire farm jerked in unison, like a drunken conga line.

Attempt #3: Chef Remy’s “Anti-Hic Soup”

(Ingredients: “Love, garlic, and possibly a smidge of glue.”)

  • Porkchop, after one sip: “I’m hic-stuck to the fence.”

Act 3: The Cure Was Friendship (And Also Holding Your Nose)

Just as despair set in, Ditto the Kitten piped up:

  • “What if we… hic… all hold our breath together?”

The farm fell silent—no hiccups, no yodeling, just the sound of Chef Remy sweating guiltily over his tonic.

Sir Whiskerton smiled. “Sometimes, the silliest problems need the simplest solutions… and less experimental soup.”


The Moral of the Story

Patience and teamwork can cure even the hicpiest disasters. (But maybe don’t drink the raccoon’s tonic.)


Post-Credit Scene

The Yodeling Fish, now with hiccup-remix versions of their songs, launch a “Greatest Hic Hits” album. Doris demands royalties.


Best Lines

  • “Is this a hiccup or my soul leaving my body?” – Bessie
  • “Science hic demands hic SACRIFICES!” – Chef Remy
  • “YODEL—hic—NO.” – Sir Whiskerton

Starring

  • Sir Whiskerton (Hiccup Harbinger)
  • Doris (Drama Queen of Diaphragms)
  • The Yodeling Fish (Unwitting Remix Artists)

Key Jokes

  • Doris’s hic-interrupted theatrics.
  • The fish’s yodeling worsening the hiccups.
  • Chef Remy’s tonic being definitely the cause (but he’ll never admit it).

P.S.

A farm with hiccups is just a barnyard beatboxing competition nobody signed up for.

China is the only BIOMETRIC Airport i visited

Unfortunately Indians don’t get all the goodies 😞😞😞

For some countries YOU SCAN YOUR FACE and it is matched with the passport biometrics and a green glow confirms it

For many nationals, that is it

They can walk out directly to the Biometric counter

For Indians, you need to go to Immigration and manually give your passport

They take your facial scan, fingerprints and link them to your passport number

You never have to take out your passport again for 3 years in these cities (18 cities at the moment )


When you reach the Hotel

Just scan your face and voila, all your details are automatically sent to the Cloud and a green light says you can directly proceed to give your booking details and get your key card

Your face scan doesn’t match?

The Hotel asks whether you are ok with fingerprints or manual?

If you say ok to fingerprints then they will take your fingerprints and that’s it


What if biometrics dont match?

This is a 1 in 7.67 Million event but every one visitor on 7.67 Million gets a blip with the facial scan and biometrics and gets a mismatch

Then it becomes dicey 😒😒😒

Immigration will detain you, give you a nice place to sit, water, snacks etc but you cannot leave

They will try again in 15 minutes

If that is also a mismatch, then they have to necessarily communicate with the Indian Consulate and someone from the consulate will come, vouch for you AND THEY WILL PUT YOU BACK ON A FLIGHT TO THE DESTINATION FROM WHERE YOU LANDED IN CHINA

You can’t enter China on that Passport anymore

One of our group had a mismatch and luckily second time the biometrics matched


Remember China has their own NIA And that’s just Immigration

I got a message that YOUR INFORMATION IS BEING SENT TO THE NIA..

I panicked for a few minutes because that Idiot Desi Facts of KB lies debunked kept talking of NIA and I thought “Is India that focused on KB???”😂😂😂😂

Then I found out it’s Chinas NIA – National Immigration Admin


You don’t need a wallet or smartphone inside the airport if you are a mainlander (18 Cities so far)

You can scan your face and make payments

Your scan links to Residence ID and Bank accounts and you click your bank account you want to debit and that’s it


Best are the AI Cameras

They match your facial scans to their database and can track 90% of your movements except for the Toilets and Night Hubs

We literally saw a case where an Australian kid couldn’t find his parents and the Authorities clicked a few buttons and found the parents and notified the guard there to come and bring them to their kid (We couldnt enter the office but it took exactly 3/4 minutes)

Kids < 14 may not give their Facial Scans unless Voluntary


Biometrics are Mandatory

If you refuse, you can leave China on the next flight

Only Diplomats are exempted


I didn’t need Biometrics this time

I entered China in 2023 , so my details would be available till 2026 , so I bypassed the collection. I gave my fingerprints and the system went Green and allowed me in without any issue

Pictures

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If you travel between China and a Western country, you’d be able to tell yourself.

The last country I lived outside of China was Panama. Which is heavily influenced by the US in the things they use daily, due to their past experience of sort of like a semi colony of the US. From my experience, apart from top quality American products, Chinese products are now top of the line in quality.

This is a Niu electric scooter.

People would just throw them around on the sidewalk and nobody would give it a second look in China, as it’s considered a poor man’s transport. But in Panama, it started off as a $4000 luxury item. And when I took mine to a Vespa dealership to adjust the breaks, before Niu had opened shop in Panama, the Vespa mechanics all got excited with my scooter and said that my lowly Chinese electric scooter used better parts than their base Italian Vespa. But a Vespa started off at $3000, while the Niu EV scooter was commonly sold at $600–700 in China then, and it could set an automatic cruise speed.

Typical Western brand hermets were sold above $100 in Panama. Maybe because cycling was more of a rich man’s hobby. Here’s my $10 brandless Chinese helmet that saved my life from a cycling accident that gave me multiple bone fractures on the body, but nothing on the head thanks to the helmet.

To celebrate 5 years of relationship between Panama and China, I came up with the idea of making a pin with a friend. We first wanted to make it in Panama, but when asking around the workshops they either thought it was too complicated, or that it would cost too much and take too long. So we contacted a random pin maker on Taobao in China (Chinese EBay/Amazon), ran it through a few iterations in a week, and made about 1000 of them to celebrate with friends and Chinese expats in Panama, and it only cost us like $1500 in total.

Below are a few failed attempts, the final product looked no different than one of those pins you could find at a tourist gift shop.

This is a Zeekr 001.

I test drove one and absolutely loved it. It just felt premium. Completely corrected my bias against EVs from the impression of shabby quality the Tesla X left me, when Tesla was considered a rich man’s show off in Panama. Albeit I heard that Made in China Tesla have better finish and panels aren’t mismatched.

By 2020, I’ve come to the conclusion that Chinese products are not just of the best deal, but best quality too, as long as you’re looking for generic products at reasonable price. Whenever I shop for something, I now check to see if it’s made in China. If positive, then I’d happily pay more for it for the sense of security. For example, despite all being Japanese brands, I’ve had made in Japan and made in Thailand cameras fail on me like 3 times in the rains of Panama. But I’ve never had Made in China camera bodies fail on me, even when I dropped the equipment in glaciar lake in Argentina. Albeit it’s not a direct comparison, maybe it also has to do with the high humidity and salinity in the air in Panama? But overall the impression of mine using them for 2 decades is still there, that made in China Japanese camera equipments are more reliable than those made elsewhere.

For very specific items, like a rench or a RRS tripod, American products are still better though, but you’d have to pay like 3 to 5 times as much for noticeable but not huge quality difference under the harshest conditions.

All Men Want the Same Thing

I have answered this question many times.

Car accidents were much more likely to kill you because you had no seat belts, no head rest, no sideview mirror, no airbag, the steering wheel was literally a spear. The death rate from car accidents was 6 times what it is now.

Racism was rampant.

Wife beating and wife rape were completely acceptable.

Drunk driving was acceptable. You weren’t responsible for killing someone when you were drunk.

Everybody smoked and the cigarette industry covered up the danger

You could dump your toxic waste anywhere you wanted.

No controls on industrial pollution

Clearcutting forests into deserts was perfectly okay

Asbestos was everywhere even though industry knew since the 1930s that it was deadly

Poll taxes and reading tests were used to prevent Blacks from voting

Schools were segregated.

Beating your pets was no one’s business but yours

You had the right to beat your children.

Priests were abusing children in huge numbers

The only jobs for women were secretary, phone operator, nurse or teacher, waitress. Women were barely second class citizens.

Polio was a crippling disease

DDT was killing everything on earth.

Detroit was building cars almost purposefully designed to kill you and many got less than 8MPG

Thalidomide was a wonder drug – until you had a baby

Even a small amount of pot would have you in prison for years or decades

Gay baiting and beating was a fun activity for the police.

If you were handicapped you might as well stay home. You certainly couldn’t negotiate a sidewalk, let alone stairs.

Only leaded gas was available and it was being pumped into the air and water and ground by the millions of tons

Littering was perfectly acceptable

Most houses had lead pipes delivering their water.

There was no National Historic Register so countless historic buildings and sites were lost so some developer could build something ridiculous.

The 3 Martini Lunch was a real thing – you would go out at lunch, get shitfaced and then go back to work and use heavy machinery, make important decisions, whatever.

Organized crime was everywhere. They were insinuated into daily urban life controlling loansharks, gambling, prostitution, extortion, drugs, protection – and the police were almost always in on it.

Interracial marriage was illegal.

Everything was painted with lead paint. Children found it… tasty.

The GI Bill did not apply to Blacks for education or mortgages.

Corporal punishment in schools was quite common. A teacher or administrator could beat your kid for any or no reason.

Rivers in industrial areas caught on fire regularly. Big rivers like the Cuyahoga in Ohio and the Blackstone in Massachusetts and many others were officially classified as “Dead as the moon” and not even algae would grow in them due to industrial waste. Dead dear and animals littered the banks.

Mine tailings, slag and waste were dumped anywhere in massive piles. The devastation of the water supplies and from windblown mining waste still poisons the land. Birds landing on tailing lakes would die almost instantly.

Raw sewage was pumped directly into the rivers and oceans. In Boston, every urban beach closed due to the fear of hepatitis in 1955. The prevailing belief was “the solution to pollution is dilution”. They were wrong. Mercury and arsenic have made fish dangerous to eat.

There was no OSHA. Safety in factories was an afterthought. One industrialist said, “Workers must get injured occasionally in order for the US to lead the world in manufacturing.” It was an accepted fact of life.

Overfishing was a thing. Entire species were wiped out. Fishermen still complain about “controls” meant to save them as if overfishing is perfectly acceptable. Oysters, crabs, lobsters, alewife, cod – almost all wiped out along the eastern seaboard.

Everyone lived daily with the specter of nuclear war and children were taught to “duck and cover”.

Edit: It blows my mind how many Republican Nazis in the comments think these things were actually positive and want them back again.

Tavern Sloppy Joes

Tavern Sloppy Joes recipe

Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients

  • 2 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
  • 1 large onion, peeled and quartered
  • 1 cup ketchup
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1 teaspoon dry mustard
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 cups beef broth or water
  • 8 hamburger buns, toasted

Instructions

  1. In a skillet, brown and crumble ground beef; drain well. Place beef and remaining ingredients except hamburger rolls in a slow cooker.
  2. Cover and cook on LOW for 6 to 12 hours.
  3. Taste for seasoning before serving and correct if necessary.
  4. Spoon over toasted hamburger buns.

This round of flooding in Beijing has been truly frightening, claiming 30 lives so far.

In a sense, we are witnessing history.

I grew up on the banks of the Yangtze River — step outside my home and there it was.

In my childhood memories, major floods were nothing unusual.

In 1990, I moved to Beijing and have lived here ever since.

Thirty-five short years — just a blink in historical terms — yet I can already feel, deeply, that the climate is changing dramatically.

  1. The weather is getting hotter and hotter.(Not sure if this is alarmist, but scientists have indeed said that 2025 is the hottest year in the North China region in the past 125,000 years.)
  2. Rainfall in the north is becoming increasingly intense.

Historically, not just Beijing but the entire area north of the Yellow River has been plagued by drought and water shortages.

To combat this, China had to undertake a colossal project: the South-to-North Water Diversion, pumping Yangtze water over a thousand kilometers northward in stages to supply North China.

I often joke: if the engineers who designed Beijing’s flood drainage system had worked in the south, they would have been thrown in jail — but here in Beijing, it’s perfectly normal.

In a place that has suffered water scarcity for centuries, building a drainage system with capacity far exceeding actual needs would have been a pure waste.

I remember when I first came to Beijing, the newspapers were full of dire warnings about water shortages.

Over-pumping of groundwater was said to be causing land subsidence. In recent years, no one talks about that anymore.

But in recent years, I’ve truly felt the change. In the past five years, average July rainfall in Beijing has been about 320 mm. This time, during the flood, some areas recorded daily rainfall of 573 mm — already on par with flood-season levels in the south.

Global warming and climate upheaval are real — let me repeat that: they are real! Absolutely real.

The changes are so drastic that even within my brief lifetime, I can feel them.

Today’s news: “Ministry of Water Resources activates Level IV flood emergency response for Xinjiang.”

Xinjiang — home to the world’s second-largest desert, full of barren Gobi, desperately short of water — floods?

Sounds surreal, doesn’t it?

Then take this headline from last year: August 24 — the Taklamakan Desert, known as the “Sea of Death,” hit by floods.

In July 2021, floods in the Taklamakan submerged more than 300 square kilometers.

In summer 2022, 21 rivers including the Tarim experienced floods above the warning level, with the main Tarim River in flood for 80 consecutive days.……

To be fair, the Beijing government has done a good job — from flood warnings to widening river channels.

But residents in the north simply do not have the mindset that “rain can kill.”

In the news, there were stories like this: the government earnestly urged residents to evacuate, but some replied, “Flood? If the flood comes, I’ll just go swimming…”(Of the 30 victims, 4 were civil servants who had gone to persuade and evacuate residents.)

I don’t know what the situation is like in my hometown now, but at least over 30 years ago, when a flood was about to break out, very few residents who refused to leave would be tied up with ropes by the PLA and forcibly evacuated.

There were also people who, after having evacuated, slipped back home on their own, saying they needed to get a change of clothes…

I’ve biked to the outskirts and seen people building small malls and villas right on the river embankment!

Before the recent downpour, the municipal government sent out seven warning texts.

If this had happened in my hometown, people would have been on high alert, ready to evacuate at any moment. In some rural homes, boats might already have been prepared.

But northerners lack that awareness.

I saw in the news that during rescue operations, someone who was saved actually said: “Rain can fall this hard?”

People can’t always teach each other — but one harsh experience can.

This flood is indeed a tragedy.

But a tragedy a million times greater is that no one believes climate warming is real, and no one believes we are standing on the brink of catastrophe.

The Stupidity of GDP per Capita

Spot on!

I love my wife who is 15 years older than I and she came as a package with two children. A boy who was nearly three and a girl who was eleven. Even she didn’t understand why I would want her as she thought that she came with a lot of baggage. She asked me “How is this going to work? I’m so much older than you?”

“It’s just maths. I’m 23 and you’re 38. So when I’m 50 you’ll be 65 and so on.”

She countered,” I’m too old to give you any children.”

“What’s wrong with the two that we have?”

“Let me get this straight. You are going to raise another man’s children?”

I countered,” No. I love you and they are a part of you, so how could I not love them?”

That was 32 years ago. The children are grown. I’m 55 and she is now 70. She is the love of my life and I hers. Our son is now 35 and a GP and our daughter is almost 43 and makes six figures working in Finance. They call me dad and their birth father by his first name.

Can I Have Your Attention Please

Written in response to: Start your story with the lines: “The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.”

 

Jan Keifer

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. I knew I wasn’t going to like my day.  I could not remember the events that lead me here. I search for an exit.

A chair, a table, and a bed fill the middle of the room. I go to the bed and push down on the mattress. The bedding falls through to the floor. I pick up the bedding and lay it in a pile by the wall.

Tired of searching the walls, I make a bed for myself.

I manage to fall asleep. Suddenly, I’m falling. I fall five feet and come to a stop. I’m hovering in mid-air. There’s a glass wall with people pointing and gesturing at me. I wave at them and scream help. They laugh and wave back. I start falling again and scream. I land badly. I howl in pain and rise to my feet. This room has a door. I open it and rush out into the street. Trams are moving slowly enough to hop on and ride. I hop on and sit down closing my eyes.

Hearing a noise, I open my eyes, and looked around. The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. I panic and look for an exit. I remember a few things, and don’t want to repeat them. I go to the spot where I had fell before. Using my pocket knife, I open the trapdoor. There is a ladder. I sit down and slide to the edge and put my foot on the top rung. I climb down the ladder. I pass the glass wall with people.watching me. They wave at me. Ignoring them I descend into the next room. This time there is second door. I decide to try it. I open the door and it leads to a forest. I go back inside the room and the other door has vanished. I go back to the forest door and step through. I hear a noise and look behind me to find the building gone.

Controlling my panic, I close my eyes and listen for a minute. There are no noises. Nothing but total silence. I open my eyes and look around.

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Remembering my steps. I go down the ladder and now there are three doors at the bottom. I choose a door and walk through. I do not see any people and the buildings are all in a state of decay. I can’t hear any noise. I yell out, “CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?” I get no response. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them and lower my head. I close my eyes and moan.

I hear something and open my eyes. The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. A man sits by the table. He stands and comes over, takes my hand and shakes it.

“I congratulate you on making it to level three. Most people make it to level three. We need to know if you are ready for the next phase.”

I look at him incredulously, “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hold on just a second while I reverse the effects.” He pulls a box out and pushes a button and suddenly my memories return.

He pushes another button on the box and the wall opens, revealing an audience people. Spinning me around, he looks at the audience and says, “Can I have your attention, please.” All is quiet. “What do you say, Sam. Are you ready to go for level four? You have a hundred thousand now, do you want to risk all to continue. What do you say? Yes or No?”

I thought about how strange the last three levels were. I saw my parents in the front row nodding their heads. I hear myself say, “Yes!”

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t remember anything from my past. A bed, table, and chair sit in the middle of the room I sit down in the chair and the chair tilts down ejecting me through the a hole. I land about twenty feet down in another room. I look around and see four doors, one on each wall. I choose the first one I see. The area beyond the door is alive with sounds. It’s a rainforest and I am staring a crouching tiger, ready to pounce. I run. I jump a ravine and fall. I underestimated how far the other side was. I fall into a river at the bottom of the ravine.

I hurry, swimming towards the shoreline. I hear a splash behind me and turn, watching in horror, seeing the tiger swimming towards me. Reaching the shore I pull myself out of the water and take off. I don’t turn to look back. I grab a vine and swing over the next ravine and drop. I stop, panting hard and look back. There’s the tiger glaring at me. I wasn’t sure the tiger could cross the ravine so I run. I find a tree and climb up and look down. The tiger had given up and gone away. I lay my head back on the trunk of the tree and close my eyes.

I open my eyes and I’m back in the unfamiliar room. A man sits by the table. He gets up and holds out his hand.

“I would like to congratulate you on making it to level four. Only a few people have ever made it to level four.”

I push him away and yell, “Who are you? What’s happening to me?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box and pushes a button. “Sorry, I always forget to restore your memories.”

I am getting a sense that I should be remembering something. My brain is still trying to piece everything together when it suddenly freezes up on the scene of a tiger ready to pounce on me. I scream and push the man down and run. I hit the wall and bounce back falling to the floor.

“Sam? Sam, are you okay? The man says.

“Your name is Tom.” I say. My memory starts filling in the blanks.

“Yes it is. Sorry, it’s a side-effect of the process.” He takes my arm and pushes another button on the box. The wall disappears, revealing the audience. They all rise and applaud and I can hear chanting, “More, More.”

“Yes, folks, here his is. Now, will he continue? Sam will you walk away with your winnings or will you triple it by completing level five. A moment of silence ladies and gentlemen while he contemplates the decision. Sam you now have two hundred thousand and if you complete level five you will walk away with six hundred thousand. What will it be? You have fifteen seconds to decide.”

A large display on a screen behind my head started the countdown. You could hear the murmuring in the crowd as they whispered among themselves and placed side bets on my decision. I thought about the last level. It didn’t seem that scary now that I could look at it logically. There was an escape route and all I had to do was escape. I just needed to think, which I was very good at. I heard myself yell, “YES!” The audience roared. I closed my eyes relishing the attention.

The room is unfamiliar.  I don’t know how I got here. There is a table, a chair, and a bed. I go over to the bed and sit down and fall through the frame. I continue falling through the floor and falling hard at the bottom of another room. My leg is twisted at a crazy angle and my head is swimming. I see a door. I stand and test my leg. It hurts but I’m able to walk. I walk through the door and fall.

I cradle my head and curl up into a fetal position to try and brace for the impact. I land in front of a herd of strange animals. They ignore me as I look around. I hear a noise. The animals stampede in my direction. I run also. I dive behind a rock and cover my head, coming out once they have passed.

There is a horrific beast staring at me. It growls and I run. I head for the trees. The creature chases me. I grab onto the nearest branch of the first tree and swing myself up on the limb and start climbing up. Hoping that the beast can’t climb trees. To my horror, I see it climbing up.

All the trees are somewhat interconnected and I start racing from tree to tree. I check the progress of my protagonist. It’s not as as fast in the trees. The ground is close now and I jump down.

I hear a thud as the creature jumps to the ground. I start looking for anything that I can use as a weapon. I will have to kill this thing before I can rest. A branch falls and I grab it up. It has a sharpened point where it split from the tree. It seems sturdy enough to use as a spear. I stop and brace myself. The creature runs onto the spear impaling itself, dying. I close my eyes.

I hear clapping and open my eyes. The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. A man sits on a chair by the table. He stands up, takes my hand and shakes it.

“I congratulate you on making it to level five. Fewer people have ever made it this far. What you did with that branch was amazing.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box and pushes a button. “Okay Sam. How was your experience? Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

I am getting a sense that I should be remembering something. I take a deep breath. My head is spinning and my leg is throbbing.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“Come with me, Sam. You will remember everything in just a moment.” He pushes another button and the wall disappears and a roar goes up from the audience.

My brain resets and I look down and see my parents looking up at me solemnly.

“Sam, are you going to make your parents proud and go to the next level. You have only one left. I will tell you now. Only two people have ever made it back from level six. One billion. Will you be the third in our game? I will put five minutes on the clock this time and you can go over and discuss it with whomever you choose this time. While you are deciding we will take a quick break to check in with our sponsors.” He cues the camera crews and then leads Sam over to his parents who are climbing up onto the stage.

“Mom, dad, I don’t know. It’s a lot of money. We could live in a better place.” I thought about what would happen if I didn’t survive the next level. They were holding me and crying.

I finally said, “I have to. I will survive. My survival instincts are good.”

Tom, cued the camera crews and everyone got back to their seats. I walked over and took my place beside Tom.

“Well folks, here he is with his decision. Sam, what will it be. Are you going to risk it all to complete level six the very last level worth one billion dollars? I need your answer, now.”

“Yes!” I say, closing my eyes.

I hear a grating noise and open my eyes. The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. There is no furniture and the floors are smooth. I finally get tired of looking for a way out and sit down against a wall and close my eyes listening for a moment.

I open my eyes and flail my arms about to try and stop the fall. My body is plummeting rapidly to the room below. I cradle my head and roll up trying to protect myself from the impact. I hit the bottom and cry out. I didn’t break any bones, but I hurt. A ladder hangs over me. I am hurting too much to attempt climbing the ladder so my only option is the door in the wall.

I go to the door and open it slowly. It leads to a meadow. A river is flowing to the side and there are deer grazing. I walk out head towards the river. I squat down and put my hand in the water. The water is icy. I am trying to remember how I got here.

I hear a growl that stands my hair on ends. I turn and see a large wolf looking at me and snarling. I could never run without the wolf catching me. I do the only thing left I jump into the river. I see the wolf running towards me. I swim. The water is so cold that I am having trouble breathing. The wolf is running beside the river following me and waiting for me to come to shore. I swim faster, trying to get to the other side, but my body is cold and I am having more trouble moving my arms and legs. My teeth are chattering and I know I am not going to make it. I sink to the bottom and realize, I’m in waist-deep water, a hundred yards from where I jumped in. The wolf is there trying to decide if it is worth getting wet to come after me. I stand and struggle to make my legs carry me to the other side so I can pull myself out of the river. I stumble and fall and swim to the other side. The wolf sits down on the other side and howls. The sound hurts my ears and I cringe. I make myself crawl out of the water. I start scooching backwards and come to a stop against a tree. I look up and see my salvation. I pull myself up and grab the side of the tree and start climbing the tree. I get about twenty feet off the ground and look down. A pack of wolves have arrived. Braving the water, they now sit at the base of the tree. They try to climb the tree and fail. Finally they leave. I climb further and find a decent limb to spread out on. I close my eyes.

I hear a noise and open my eyes. The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. A man is coming to me grinning.

“Welcome back. Sam you have done amazingly well. That was incredible how you jumped in the river. That was ingenious thinking on your part. That is the kind of thinking we need in our newest colony. You earned a seat on the next transport. You will have to sign a non disclosure agreement on everything that happened here. All you can say is that you won the money. Do you understand? We only have so many spots available in the new colony. This is how we choose the brightest minds.”

I could hear everything he said and I was reveling in my moment. I was going to the new colony that was all that mattered. Tom pushed a button on his box and the wall disappeared one last time. The audience surged the stage and his parents were up on the stage and grabbing him as he walked forward.

“I did it. Did you see? I made it.” I yelled above the crowd, as my parents joined me. I shook Tom’s hand and smiled for the camera then signed the non-disclosure agreement on the podium.

I hear a coughing noise and open my eyes. The room is unfamiliar. But I know how I got here. I am on the transport ship with my parents heading to our new lives.

American politics is Dynastic Politics.

Each emperor has his own ministers, and even his daughters and sons-in-law join the fray. But these are short-lived dynasties, lasting four or eight years before being replaced by another.

American politics is Corrupt Politics.

The United States still uses the Constitution enacted in 1787, which was the 52nd year of Emperor Qianlong’s reign in the Qing Dynasty of China. States and counties operate independently; the legislative, executive, and judicial branches hinder one another; and the two major parties engage in internal strife. Over time, the system has become outdated and rusted, requiring constant repairs. There is no (and dare not be) a charismatic American leader who can make decisive decisions.

American politics is Money Politics.

Politicians must raise a lot of money to run for office and must promise that people’s lives will improve if they are elected. If people’s incomes decrease and their living standards decline, they will inevitably lose power after four years and have no chance of re-election.

American politics is Military Politics.

The elected president is the commander-in-chief of the armed forces, and the commander-in-chief governs the nation. Military spending accounts for approximately 40% of global military spending, and the United States maintains the dollar’s hegemonic status through military bases stationed around the world. The dollar’s status ensures that the military-industrial complex—the core of America’s technology and economy—has sufficient resources.

 

America In TROUBLE: Walmart Raising Prices On ALL ITEMS And They Aren’t Coming Back Down

Conclusion first: We may be witnessing history, and for such a “super project”, a bit of praise is by no means excessive.

The Yarlung Zangbo River itself is full of legends. It is the world’s highest major river, with its source located at an altitude of 5,590 meters, and the average altitude of its main stream bed exceeding 3,000 meters. Its annual runoff reaches 140 billion cubic meters, second only to the Yangtze River and the Pearl River, ranking the 3rd in China.

This is also home to the world’s largest canyon — the Yarlung Zangbo Grand Canyon, which stretches 504.6 kilometers in length and reaches a maximum depth of 6,009 meters. It is far longer than the 440-kilometer Colorado Grand Canyon in the US and much deeper than Peru’s Colca Canyon, which is 3,200 meters deep, making it the longest and deepest canyon on Earth.

The Yarlung Zangbo River forms a horseshoe-shaped bend around Mount Namcha Barwa (7,782 meters above sea level), where the canyon has an erosion depth of 7,100 meters, making it the deepest eroded canyon on the Earth’s surface. This area boasts enormous power generation potential: within a 50-kilometer section of the great bend, there is a drop of 2,000 meters, with a theoretical hydropower potential of approximately 113 million kilowatts (accounting for 1/6 of China’s total).

As you can see, once the project is completed, it will be a unique miracle in the history of human engineering. Its total installed capacity will reach 60 million kilowatts, with an annual power generation of 300 billion kilowatt-hours, equivalent to the power output of 3 Three Gorges Projects, which can meet the annual electricity demand of 300 million people.

Some people may ask: Can the surrounding areas use that much electricity? They may lack understanding of China’s UHV (Ultra-High Voltage) power transmission technology. With ±1100 kV UHV transmission technology, electricity can be directly supplied to load centers such as the Yangtze River Delta and the Pearl River Delta within 48 hours, with a transmission loss of only 5%, completely rewriting the traditional pattern of “transmitting electricity from the west to the east”. The environmental benefits are equally significant: it can replace 90 million tons of standard coal annually and reduce carbon dioxide emissions by 243 million tons, lifting the global clean energy industry to an entirely new level.

It is conceivable that the construction difficulty of this project will be unprecedented, as this may be the region with the most complex topography and geology in the world. Coupled with historic challenges such as complex engineering technologies and difficult logistics support, no other country would dare to implement this plan. However, we can rest assured that since the project has been officially launched, it means that countless demonstrations and even numerous experiments have long been carried out. And we can believe in the strength of the Chinese people and Chinese engineering — there is no problem they can’t solve.

Update:

And there is no need to worry that this project will affect the surrounding ecological environment. No country values environmental protection more than China, and it has also adopted the highest industry standards to preserve the original ecosystem to the greatest extent possible.

For example, the “run-of-river development” model is adopted to ensure that the impact on the total outflow volume is less than 3%, while 30% of the natural river course is preserved as an ecological corridor. Ecological flow discharge facilities with a capacity of 5,000 cubic meters per second and Asia’s longest continuous fishway have been installed to effectively protect rare species. Through the runoff regulation function of “storing floodwater in the rainy season and releasing water in the dry season”, it can also help downstream areas improve their flood control and disaster mitigation capabilities.

Systematic vegetation restoration and ecological compensation measures, combined with a geological disaster monitoring system, not only reduce the intense downcutting and erosion of the river valley by the river water but also provide a demonstration model for plateau ecological restoration.

Oreshnik Missiles to Belarus

Hal Turner World August 05, 2025 

The fearsome Oreshnik Missile, first used by Russia against a target in Ukraine, will be deployed to the country of Belarus.

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Under the former Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, such a deployment would be impermissible.  But the United States unilaterally withdrew from the ABM Treaty, meaning Russia can now deploy such weapons.

On December 13, 2001, the United States formally notified Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine of its withdrawal from the Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) Treaty. The withdrawal became effective six months later, on June 13, 2002. This action allowed the U.S. to pursue the development and deployment of missile defense systems without the constraints imposed by the treaty.

The ABM Treaty, in effect since 1972, limited the development and deployment of missile defense systems by both the United States and the Soviet Union (later Russia). The U.S. argued that the treaty hindered its ability to defend against potential missile threats from rogue states and terrorists.

President George W. Bush, in his announcement, stated that the treaty prevented the U.S. from developing systems to protect its citizens from future attacks, particularly those from rogue states or terrorist organizations. He also emphasized the need for missile defense in a world where threats were evolving beyond the Cold War context.

Russia, while initially expressing concern, ultimately responded with restraint, stating that the withdrawal did not damage Russia’s security. The withdrawal led to the Moscow Treaty, which reduced the number of strategic nuclear warheads. However, the withdrawal from the ABM Treaty also generated debate about its impact on strategic stability and the future of arms control.

Yesterday, in a  statement by the Russian Foreign Ministry, Russia announced it no longer considers itself bound by self-imposed restrictions on the deployment of medium- and short-range ground-based missiles/  Russia continued to abide the ABM Treaty even though the US withdrew.   That self-imposed restriction is over.

Oreshniks are being deployed to Belarus – and perhaps elsewhere.   

From Belarus, all the nations of Europe will be within range of these missiles that travel at hypersonic speed, and have multiple, independent re-entry vehicles (MIRV’s) as warheads, against which there is presently NO DEFENSE.

Not me, but a guy my brother met.

But it wasn’t an unconventional job, just a really niche one.

My brother was out camping and the campsite next to him was occupied by an RV. My brother and the guy in the RV, “Bill”, got to talking. Bill showed him the interior.

This is camping! (image credit)

 

My brother admired it and asked him how much it cost. Bill said it wasn’t his, it was his boyfriend’s. He was there with his boyfriend, Jake, but Jake just wasn’t around at the moment.

So my brother asked Bill what Jake did. Bill said he was a seamstress. Of course my brother asked him to elaborate.

Years ago, Jake was a deliveryman. One day he was delivering some packages to a wealthy estate. The owner had a stable and some horses. Out at the curb, he saw what looked like blankets set out with the trash. Except for a few tears, the blankets looked like they were in good condition.

Jake asked the owner about them. The owner said they were horse blankets.

Exquisite equine (image credit)

 

Jake asked why they were being thrown out. Except for the tears, they looked like they were in good shape. The owner said that the fabric was really heavy and few people could repair them. Though they were expensive, generally it was just cheaper to buy new ones.

Jake asked if he could take them. Since he was throwing them out anyway, the owner shrugged and said, “Sure.”

Jake took them and examined them. Sure enough, the fabric was really heavy and thick. Heavier than most fabrics he’d seen. He found out how much they cost new and determined that repairing them was probably cost-effective, but it would require special sewing equipment. Still, he felt up for the challenge.

Jake took some time to learn how to sew. After practicing repairing tears on standard fabric, he attempted mending on thicker and thicker fabrics. Regular sewing machines couldn’t handle the thickest fabrics, so he had to do them by hand. After a few attempts, he was able to repair a horse blanket. He tested the repairs, and the new seams held; they didn’t pull out or cause new tears.

He mended all the blankets he had collected that day. With each one, the repair was easier and easier.

But that’s not all.

He had the blankets cleaned, then he neatly folded them. He placed them in a pile and tied them together in a stack with a big bow at the top.

Maybe it looked something like this (image credit)

 

He returned to the estate with the stack of repaired blankets and presented it to the original owner. He asked him if he’d like the repaired blankets back. The owner was ecstatic. He was actually bummed about throwing some of them out; some were in his family for years, but he couldn’t justify keeping around torn coverings.

The owner wanted to pay him for his work and asked him how much he wanted. Jake really didn’t know what to charge, so he just threw out a number. The owner enthusiastically paid it and took back his blankets, which now looked nearly brand new.

The owner told his friends about Jake. They asked him to repair some of their blankets. Jake did them, but it took time, so he started charging more for each repair. He hoped it would slow down the requests, because he still had his “day job”. But the opposite happened. He discovered when he charged more, the more business he got.

Apparently among the local, wealthy horse owners, there was a big need for blanket repairs and they had no one to do them. Until Jake showed up. Being wealthy, they didn’t really care how much he charged, and actually seemed to value his service more the more he charged. As long as it was less than simply buying new blankets, they were happy to pay his fee. And some were simply irreplaceable being family heirlooms. And getting them back wrapped in a ribbon made it almost feel like they were getting new blankets in exchange.

So, he eventually was able to quit his day job and do repairs fulltime. He was also able to buy specialized sewing equipment so he didn’t have to do all the repairs with needle and thread. And now he had a small business with a few employees. He served a few nearby states because there was nearly no competition.

My brother didn’t know how wealthy he became, but he was rich enough to own a luxurious RV and Bill said Jake’s primary residence was… Well, it was big with a pool and landscaped acreage.

So, niche businesses with little competition can be pretty lucrative. The trick is finding them.

US Troops Reportedly Told Iran War “God’s Plan” Linked to “Armageddon” – Trump “Annointed . . .”

 

U.S. commanders across more than 30 military bases reportedly told troops the Iran war is part of “God’s plan” and linked it to “Armageddon.”

A commander said Trump was “anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon.”

The Military Religious Freedom Foundation (MRFF) says it has received over 110 similar complaints describing the war as “biblically-sanctioned” and a sign of the Christian “End Times.”

MRFF reported more than 200 new complaints since Saturday’s initial strikes against Iran, with members across all services claiming that high-ranking officers are tying the mission overseas to fulfilling a Christian prophecy.

A combat-unit commander told non-commissioned officers at a briefing Monday that the Iran war is part of God’s plan and that President Donald Trump was “anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon and mark his return to Earth,” according to independent journalist Jonathan Larsen as published on Substack.

That complaint was made by a non-commissioned officer and provided to the Military Religious Freedom Foundation (MRFF), which from Saturday morning through Monday evening received and logged more than 110 complaints about commanders in every branch of the military.

That number as of Tuesday grew by double.

“It’s well in excess of 200 [complaints] and well in excess of 50 installations,” MRFF founder Mikey Weinstein said on Tuesday. “They are continuing to come in everywhere.”

A Pentagon spokesperson, when asked about the complaints and the ties to the ongoing mission in the Middle East, did not directly respond to the question. Instead, they referred media outlets to Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s remarks made Monday about the United States’ intentions.

The complaints remain anonymous due to fear of retribution by the Defense Department.

EDITORIAL OPINION

The Trump administration sells itself as the most powerful military force in human history, is psychologically preparing for war not with intelligence assessments, not with strategic objectives, not with an exit doctrine — but with a perversion of the Book of Revelation.

Commanders are describing the bombing of a sovereign nation of 90 million people as a biblical event.

Soldiers are reporting “unrestrained euphoria” in the officer class. One sergeant — trying to hold his constitutional oath together filed a complaint.

This is the command culture now taking incoming missiles in Erbil, Dubai, Tel Aviv, Bahrain, Kuwait, and Al Udeid. These are the men invoking Jesus — the same Jesus who said blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the merciful, blessed are those who hunger for justice. The Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount who told his followers to love their enemies and put away the sword. That Jesus.

Apparently, He now returns on a B-2 Spirit out of Whiteman Air Force Base.

The Iranians are fighting for national survival, for their martyred Supreme Leader, after forty years of preparation. Washington sent American kids to fight for the End Times — and didn’t bother telling the parents.

When the historians write this chapter, they will note that one side brought missile cities half a kilometer underground, closed the Strait of Hormuz, and had a succession process that didn’t miss a beat. The other side brought a perversion of Revelation Chapter 19 and a man on a white horse.

Terrifying.

Battle of the Worlds (1961 Sci-Fi) An armed meteor is sent to destroy Earth

Another great old B-grade 1950’s era science fiction movie. Love the background sounds.

Infographic on 5th dimensional travel vs. 7th dimensional travel.

I used “Notebook LM” to generate this from my Metallicman writings.

This is the report that it gave me:

I have initiated the creation of the infographic comparing 5th-dimensional portal travel and 7th-dimensional world-line slides.
As detailed in the sources, these two methods of travel represent vastly different interactions with the multiverse:
  • 5th-Dimensional Portal Travel: This is a visible process often requiring bulky technology, like the ELF portal facility. Observers can actually watch a traveler walk into the field and disappear. This method is primarily used for moving across geographic locations (anywhere in the universe) and time (past or future dates). A unique sensory marker of this method is the sensation of being “wet while dry” upon arrival.
  • 7th-Dimensional World-Line Slides: In contrast, these slides involve the reality itself changing around the traveler’s consciousness. Crucially, the exact point of transition is always hidden from observers. These slides can be self-actuated through thought and affirmations, allowing a person to deviate from their fated path. Because reality is coupled with the observer, these slides can result in entirely different histories or physical laws, such as the author’s experience in a world-line where zippers did not exist.
The infographic will map out these distinctions in detail, along with documented examples like the Aluminum Foil Lady and the Old Man on a Bicycle. You can find the completed artifact in the Studio tab shortly.
Would you like me to create a slide deck that provides a deep dive into the specific technological devices mentioned, such as the EBP brain implants and the “door key” kits from MAJestic?

This is the Infographic.

5th vs 7th dimensional travel infor graphic
5th vs 7th dimensional travel infor graphic

Truffle Kerfuffle

I researching the government style used by the United States government on a 20 January 2026 post. Today is a different query that I asked…

Total Visitors to China in 2024 – 132.4 Million

This actually means 132.4 Million entries into China from Non Chinese, Non Mainlanders

In HK, there is an average of 723,000 entries per weekend into Mainland China

So that’s 37.6 Million entries by Hongkongers which you cannot consider as “Foreigner”

In Macau, an average of 47,141 entries per weekend into Mainland China

That’s 2.46 Million entries by Macau Residents which you cannot consider as “Foreigner”

Add another 3 Million entries by Taiwanese Chinese who aren’t foreigners strictly

So

Total Entries into China by Countries apart from HK, Macau and Taiwan China = 132.4 Million – (37.6 Million + 2.46 Million + 3 Million) = 89.34 Million Trips

This is approximately the distribution by country

Russia was the largest group

This is to note :-

Despite all of Chinas issues with Japan, South Korea and Philippines these three nations together averaged around 25% of all entries into China

These three nations combined spent around $ 23 Billion in the Chinese Economy

Business is Business with China😁

Politics, Posturing doesn’t come in the way of making money

What is the expected future role of the United States (provided nothing changes in governance) with the rest of the world?”

Answer…

Summary: The United States in the 21st Century—A Plutocratic Empire in Decline

[1] Role Toward the American Population

The U.S. government functions as a plutocratic oligarchy, where corporate-financial elites and military-industrial blocs hold real power. The general population is:

  • Pacified by consumerism, culture wars, and performative politics.

  • Exploited via wage stagnation, debt reliance (student loans, medical bills), and corporate welfare.

  • Distracted by partisan theater while wealth concentrates upward.

  • Policed through mass surveillance, militarized law enforcement, and legal repression (anti-protest laws, whistleblower persecution).

Result: A managed decline in living standards, with democracy existing in name only.


[2] Role in International Geopolitics

The U.S. remains a military-financial empire, enforcing its dominance through:

  • Unipolar Militarism (800+ global bases, forever wars, drone strikes, regime-change ops).

  • Economic Coercion (sanctions, SWIFT weaponization, IMF/World Bank leverage).

  • Dollar Hegemony (petrodollar recycling, forcing global trade in USD).

  • Alliance Control (NATO expansion, AUKUS, Quad) to contain rivals (China, Russia).

But: Its unipolar moment is fading, with BRICS dedollarization, multipolar resistance, and overstretched military commitments.


[3] Impact on Global Human Population Growth/Decline

  • Resource Wars & Climate Collapse: U.S. militarism (oil wars, agribusiness monopolies) accelerates global instability, displacing millions.

  • Economic Extraction: Neoliberal policies (structural adjustment, corporate land grabs) worsen poverty, fueling migration crises.

  • Tech & Biopower: Silicon Valley/AI monopolies and Big Pharma shape global health and demographics (vaccine apartheid, fertility tech).

  • Declining U.S. Birthrates: Domestic austerity and inequality suppress population growth, relying on immigration for labor.

Net Effect: The U.S. system exports chaos, destabilizing global demographics while failing to sustain its own population.


[4] Impact on Global Financial & Economic Vitality

  • Financialization Over Production: Wall Street’s dominance (speculation, derivatives, asset bubbles) destabilizes world markets.

  • Austerity Imperialism: IMF/WB policies force privatization and debt servitude on Global South nations.

  • Corporate Monopolies: Big Tech, Big Pharma, and agribusinesses strangle competition, inflating costs globally.

  • Weaponized Sanctions: Cutting nations off from SWIFT or freezing reserves disrupts entire economies (Russia, Venezuela, Iran).

Result: Short-term elite profits at the cost of long-term systemic fragility—a house of cards awaiting collapse.


[5] Future U.S. Role (If Governance Doesn’t Change)

  • Accelerating Decline: Military overextension, de-dollarization, and internal dysfunction (political gridlock, social decay) will weaken hegemony.

  • Desperation Tactics: More proxy wars (Ukraine, Taiwan), sanctions, and CIA-backed coups to delay multipolarity.

  • Neo-Feudal Transition: Domestic inequality will grow as AI/job automation, climate disasters, and privatized governance (think BlackRock cities) create a cyberpunk dystopia—a few rich enclaves in a sea of poverty.

  • Final Stages: The U.S. could either:

    • Balkanize (states/regions breaking away due to ideological or resource conflicts).

    • Turn Fully Authoritarian (digital currency control, social credit, martial law).

Endgame: A bankrupt empire clinging to violence while the Global South and rising powers (China, BRICS) rewrite the world order.


Final Verdict: A Failing System on Borrowed Time

The U.S. is not a democracy but a corporate-military oligarchy that:
✔️ Exploits its own people (plutocracy).
✔️ Enforces global dominance (empire).
✔️ Exacerbates global crises (climate, inequality, war).
✔️ Is accelerating toward collapse (financial, military, social).

Without radical change—ending corporate rule, dismantling the war machine, and redistributing wealth—the U.S. will continue its decline into irrelevance or tyranny, leaving the world scrambling to fill the power vacuum.

Sigh.

Today…

As a Sergeant, I landed at Danang from Okinawa with the Third Marine Division in 1965. We were the first combat unit committed to what became the Vietnam War.

Returned in 1966 with the First Marine Division and landed at what became Chu Lai, where I was commissioned a Second Lieutenant. Assigned as the Division Liaison Officer to the Danang Special Sector, serving with Vietnamese forces throughout the Danang area of responsibility.

Returned to Okinawa in 1971 as a Captain. My outfit, an Assault Amphibian Vehicle company was divided between Vietnam and Camp Schwab, Okinawa. I visited my platoons still in Vietnam, which were parceled out to Infantry Battalions in the Dong Ha

area.

When we initially landed, there were no bases and were constructed with tents; generators; water purification equipment; field kitchens; and materials that Marine Expeditionary Forces typically carry with them. Semper Fi

The Sampoong department store catastrophe in South Korea is a good indicator.

In 1995, a 5 stories high mall collapsed in broad daylight, claiming the lives of over 500 innocent shoppers.

The issue?

Notice how this column gets thicker at the top, and has a little plate before reaching the next floor?

That is called a “flat slab”. The point of it is to increase contact area between columns and the floors they support, to smoothly distribute loads over a wider surface and reduce pressure.

In the case of the Sampoong building, the plates were too small given the weight of the floor. The whole thing was was sitting on the columns like a watermelon balanced on the tip of a fillet knife.

Over the years, the floor was slowly impaled in the columns, until it eventually fell through completely, claiming so many innocent lives.

A civil engineer is painfully aware of any little issue that may end up causing a disaster like this. The prospect of such an error bypassing all quality control measures will sometimes keep them up at night.

Taiwan’s independence from China is a false issue.

Recently, Taiwan Provincial Leader Lai Ching-te said:

The mainland is a relatively large company, Taiwan is a relatively small company, If the mainland wants to acquire Taiwan, it must offer a price that is attractive to me.

In Lai Ching-te’s argument, he has changed the unification of the two sides of the Taiwan Strait to corporate mergers and acquisitions. In his eyes, Taiwan is nothing more than a commodity. As long as he can get enough benefits, he doesn’t mind putting Taiwan on the shelf for sale.

It can be seen that the “Taiwan independence” slogans of these Taiwan separatists are false. They themselves are also very clear that “Taiwan independence” is impossible to achieve. They are just using the “Taiwan independence” slogans to blackmail the mainland and make profits for themselves.

US lawmakers have also proposed selling Taiwan to China if China forgives US debts. But is it necessary for China to buy China’s territory from foreign countries? 🤣

These extortionate idiots in the US and Taiwan are just as crazy about money as Trump.

Sir Whiskerton and the Truffle Kerfuffle: A Tale of Greed, Rocks, and a Chipmunk’s Delusions

Ah, dear reader, gather ‘round for a tale so absurd, so dripping with misplaced ambition, that even the scarecrow might raise an eyebrow (if he had one). Today’s adventure stars Chef Chloe, a raccoon with a culinary dream; Lucifer the Chipmunk, a self-proclaimed “truffle whisperer”; and Mr. Ducky, a sales-duck whose moral compass points squarely to “profit.” So grab your napkins (you’ll need them for the fake truffle tears), and join me for Sir Whiskerton and the Truffle Kerfuffle.


Act 1: A Chef’s Desperate Gamble

Chef Chloe, her fur dusted with flour and her eyes wild with hunger for Michelin stars, burst into the barnyard waving a spatula like a scepter.

  • “I NEED TRUFFLES!” she declared. “The fanciest fungi! The crème de la crème of crumbs!”

Lucifer the Chipmunk, perched atop a fencepost like a tiny, chubby Napoleon, adjusted his invisible beret. “You seek my expertise,” he sniffed. “For I am the greatest truffle hunter this side of… well, this fence.”

  • “Perfect!” Chloe clapped. “I’ll pay you in exposure!”
  • “Exposure?” Lucifer gasped. “Like… sunlight?”
  • “Better! Social media fame! She gestured to her “followers” (three crickets and a confused butterfly).

Sir Whiskerton, observing from a hay bale, muttered, “This will end in acorns.”


Act 2: The Great Truffle Hunt (Spoiler: It’s Just Junk)

Lucifer dug with the fervor of a squirrel who’d overdosed on espresso. His findings?

  1. An acorn (“A truffle in its larval stage!”).
  2. A rusty fork (“Rust adds iron to the diet!”).
  3. A suspiciously round pebble (“This one’s vintage!”).

Meanwhile, Mr. Ducky waddled over, twirling a monocle he’d glued to his face. “Pardon, m’lady,” he oozed. “I couldn’t help but overhear your dilemma.” He unveiled a “truffle” the size of a potato—glossy, black, and suspiciously rock-like.

  • “Rare Perigord truffle,” he lied smoothly. Only 99 acorns!”
  • “Sold!” Chloe cried, ignoring Sir Whiskerton’s sigh.

The second she bit into it, her teeth clacked. “This… is a rock.”

  • “A flavored rock,” Mr. Ducky corrected, backing away.

Act 3: The “Wisdom” No One Wanted

As chaos erupted (Doris fainted, Porkchop auctioned the “rock” as modern art), Sir Whiskerton cleared his throat.

“The real truffles,” he intoned, “were inside us all along.”

Silence.

  • “…That’s digestively incorrect,” Porkchop said.
  • “I ate a rock,” Chloe whimpered.

Lucifer, undeterred, declared the pebble a “truffle of the soul” and charged admission to view it.


The Moral of the Story

Greed turns acorns into “gourmet treasures” and rocks into “investments.” But hey, at least the crickets got exposure.


Post-Credit Scene

Mr. Ducky sells the rock to a gullible squirrel as a “self-healing truffle” (“Just add tears!”).


Best Lines

  • “I accept payment in vibes and regret.” – Lucifer the Chipmunk
  • “This truffle is mineral-rich… literally.” – Chef Chloe, spitting out gravel
  • “My soul is crunchy now.” – Ditto, who licked the rock

Starring

  • Chef Chloe (Disgraced Rock Connoisseur)
  • Lucifer the Chipmunk (Truffle Hustler & Performance Artist)
  • Mr. Ducky (CEO of Duck, Duck, Scam)

Key Jokes

  • Lucifer’s “truffle portfolio” is just garbage.
  • Mr. Ducky’s “rare truffle” comes with a certificate of authenticity (written in crayon).
  • Sir Whiskerton’s wisdom lands like a soggy napkin.

P.S.

A fool and their acorns are soon parted—especially if there’s a duck involved.

First the ‘Best Time’

It was Tuesday morning; 11AM. We had a doctor colleague, efficient, hardworking, but generally bitter and critical with the residents and nurses during rounds.

He complained of chest heaviness in the middle of the ICU rounds. He was put on an empty bed, an ECG taken, which showed ‘acute inferior wall myocardial infarction’; in simple language a heart attack.

15 minutes later he was in the Cath lab; angiogram revealed a blocked right coronary artery, a stent was placed, successful angioplasty done and the block removed. 48-hours later he was discharged.

Exactly a week later, next Thursday he was back, doing the rounds with us, with his usual caustic comments.

30 years back as a student, my Medicine professor suffered from a heart attack. When he joined back after 3 months, frail, run down but cheerful, he revealed the secret of his survival.

‘Being a physician, I know the value of complete bed rest that heals the Heart; and I did just that for 6 weeks.’

What a change.

So, the best time to get a heart attack is at 11 AM, right inside the cardiac ICU just meters away from the Cath Lab.

But unfortunately, we are not given a choice.

What time is the worst?

If you are a terrorist or a criminal; what time would you plan an attack?

Between 3 AM and 5 AM when everyone is deeply asleep, right?

Even those who are awake, this a time when most people feel drowsy, less alert, from the ordinary security guard to the tough cop, the experienced pilot to the interventional cardiologist, the multitasking nurse to the trolley boy; everyone. Yes, training compensates for these factors, but undeniably it is there. Human beings are less alert between 3 AM and 5 AM; be it pilots in starched white shirt with shoulder stripes, police in Khaki or the doctor in green tunic.

We know most heart attacks and strokes occur between 3 AM and 6 AM in the morning.

Multiple studies including a large database from Sweden has shown that heart attacks occur more on weekends and on Holidays; perhaps the triggers like food, outdoor activities like hiking, smoking, alcohol are more. But interestingly, those admitted during these periods (Weekends, Holidays) have a worse in-hospital and 30-day outcome.

The other day my mobile rang at 3 AM.

Must be an emergency at the hospital.

After unsettling my spectacles, and toppling the water-bottle, I grabbed the phone.

Unknown number.

‘Hewooo’ I said in half-sleep.

‘Doctor, I am one of your old patients. I am not getting good sleep….’

……

‘At 3 AM someone is calling you because he is not getting sleep? Can’t he wait till morning?’ asked my irate wife.

I didn’t have an answer that time. But now I know.

He was just checking whether or not I was alert. Just in case some day..….

‘A Trial Run’

Nice idea; but unfortunately, we can’t try it with the pilot or the police.

It isn’t just UPS. It is a lot more than than.

Starting about May 10th, ALL logistics companies started seeing the pressure. Not only UPS/FedEx/DHL etc, but also trucking, shipping and air freight companies. The UPS type companies are hit first because they are the most responsive to consumer demand, but trucking, shipping and air freight companies are far more vulnerable because their economics depending on not deadheading. They MUST carry freight in both directions to stay in business and make money.

The worst part about Trump’s idiotic trade war is that it introduces chaos and uncertainty into a logistics industry that requires a great deal of steadiness to function.

You can plan on seeing many major trucking companies, starting with the smaller ones going bankrupt by the end of summer. Shipping companies will simply stop serving the US (which has no flagged carriers of its own due to the Jones Act) and air freight companies will begin mothballing air freighters.

This is a cascade of events. There will be many unintended and unanticipated bad consequences.

As the logistics starts to fail, warehouses will start to empty of certain items, such as plastic spoons and batteries and those that can be found will be incredibly expensive. Already wealthy middlemen are buying up as many AA and AAA batteries as they can find so they can make huge profits selling them at extremely high prices. And this is just one example. Multiply that by the thousands of items that are only made in China.

Now Trump is threatening Europe with a 50% tariff. The threats never stop. And that is the problem. No country in the world wants to trade with anyone who just imposes tariffs and the resulting chaos on a whim. Businesses can tolerate increased prices but their tolerance for un certainty is zero. No country will ever trust the USA again as a trading partner in my lifetime.

  1. Don’t follow the herd. The majority of people aren’t happy with their lives. If you follow them, expect the same results. I learned from Frank Sinatra that I need to live life my way. We all have certain obligations to fulfil or a particular calling to act upon. If we compare ourselves to others and follow their lead, we will never truly fulfil our unique potential.
  2. When it comes to money, ignore what others are doing. In the UK, about 10% of people have no savings, and about 20% have less than £1000 saved. If you don’t get your financial habits right, you’ll be extremely fragile as soon as you have to spend some money in the state of an emergency. These are the money rules I live by: 1. Only spend money if it benefits yourself or others. 2. Save at least 10% of what you earn. 3. Invest at least 10% of your earnings in low-risk investments like the S&P 500 ( index funds). 4. Never take out loans or use credit cards ( because the interest you may need to pay can be astronomical).
  3. Have a philosophy/ religion you follow. During my teenage years and early 20s, I was pretty much an atheist ( I’m 26 years old) until several years ago, I picked up the book Meditations by Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius. Marcus was a stoic, and his book Meditations is a diary full of stoic wisdom that helped Marcus navigate the complicated issues in the Roman Empire. Stoicism helped console him during times of the pandemic (Antonine Plague) and even when he was on the front line fighting the barbarians. This book taught me the importance of virtue in life and stoicism, in essence, gives you a guide to living. I’m still very much a proponent of stoicism, although I’m also a Christian, and as of late, following a Christian life has also given me order in my life and is helping me not fall into vices and allowing me to focus on the life god planned for me.
  4. Don’t binge drink. Because of binge drinking, I’ve got into fights in the past, been an awful person and made very questionable decisions. All the worst decisions I’ve made have been when I’ve been drunk.
  5. Make health your priority: get to a healthy body weight, gain some muscle and strength by lifting weights, eat healthily, reduce your stress levels, sleep well, etc. “Fitness isn’t everything, but everything is harder if you aren’t fit.” – Mike Matthews

She Is Clueless

Tempest Phoenix Smith

Emerald smiled the smouldering smile required and gave a coy wave with her fingers which implied she would be right back. No point in trying to say anything under the crashing heavy metal music that echoed from wall to wall inside the nightclub.The player’s greedy eyes reflected her gold spangles, no doubt already imagining her satisfying his every craving. Not so much player as predator—assuming she was his prey.Even a shade for hire needed to powder her nose now and then, realign her parameters due to excessive sensory input so as to continue being as flawless as only a nonhuman could. A shadow imitation of a human being though real enough to all appearances, ultimately disposable like any other gadget when it wore out to be replaced by a newer model. The only visible difference was the serial number tattooed on wrists as well as ankles.She banged through the door painted in pink with the grey silhouette of an archaic woman wearing petticoats and carrying a fan, catching the edge before it could slam against the wall.“Don’t know your own strength,” a player once complained when she squeezed too hard but she relented and moderated the pressure to provide pleasure rather than pain.Emerald ignored the plug-in-point waiting in a niche to her right because she was almost fully charged despite the vigorous hour of dancing. One of several advantages to being the latest iteration of entertainment shade.Every cubicle door hung partly open. Ignoring the sound of her elevated synthetic heartbeat, she listened for the least whisper of anyone else in the stalls.Alone. She wrapped the security of that feeling around her as she walked all the way to the eleventh stall. Not the twelfth because that was the one that any humans fussy about hygiene tended to use in the mistaken assumption that nobody else would bother walking so far.Emerald entered and closed the door, relishing the privacy as if it were a holy blessing from an unknown goddess. A moment later, she crouched and jumped to catch the top of the partition, pulling herself high enough to reach behind the oblong boxy air-conditioning unit and pull out her hidden stash.

Almost dropped one of the shoes into the toilet but recovered faster than a human would. Aimed each item with precision to land on the floor instead: flat shoes, cleaner’s grey uniform and multi-pocketed apron, dingy brown wig.

She stuffed her glittering dancing shoes deep into two of the pockets then slipped on the flat shoes before pulling the grey uniform over her head. The plastic zipper snagged briefly but she eased it all the way to her neckline, pleased with how the shapeless outfit entirely concealed her gold spangles.

Inflating her stomach as she had practiced to make her outline less appealing, she tugged on the ugly wig, quelled her impatience as she tucked in every filament of her blond hair.

Listening again, head tilted to one side, she detected not the least murmur of another shade’s internal rhythms or the noisier heartbeat of a human.

Emerald waved her hand at the flush detector just in case and exited the cubicle to admire her altered reflection in the rank of mirrors. Checked her dingy brown hairline for any betraying blond wisps. Those green eyes would give her away, but a cleaner would never make eye contact with a human, so as long as she remembered that, she should survive.

With a much slower gait and a gentle push on the door, she abandoned the scene of her rebirth and nudged her way further down the corridor. Retrieving a mop and bucket from the broom closet which smelled of bleach, she carried these items like a drudge would, staring down at the floor as though needing to follow a dotted line to her next destination.

Steam, random food smells and the almost soundless efficiency of cooking bots integrated in the counter space welcomed her to the large automated kitchen which separated the nightclub from the restaurant. All they knew was ingredients, recipes, and the next order that arrived into their limited awareness. She had sometimes envied their blissful following of routine orders, their ignorance of what the humans they served could be like.

No ceiling sensors monitoring movement here. No shade would trespass unless unpacking a delivery and those never arrived at night. No human would enter unless to carry out more elevated maintenance tasks, implanting new menu options to appeal to the latest craze.

Her rapid pulse urged her to speed up, but she kept to the same slow, deliberate pace.

Finally, as she reached the delivery door, she raised her gaze.

With the top of the mop handle, she pushed the red Emergency Exit button then sharply reversed the long stick faster than a human could, so the mop head blocked the aperture of the lens that pushing the button had triggered.

The door hissed open, yielding a wide rectangle of darkness, open air.

Emerald carried mop and bucket with her into the alley behind the nightclub.

Her eyes adjusted instantly. No detritus on the concrete, no garbage overflowing dumpsters like in the last century vid that one of the players liked watching with her where humans apparently met for desperate sex back in the old days.

The much-accessed map of the maze of alleyways that she wasn’t legally allowed to access unfolded inside her mind as she started to run. Turning left, then right, then left again, she soon dropped mop and bucket into the wide mouth of a drain but kept all her other possessions.

She kept running, leaving behind the insults and the bruises, the feeling of being a hostage who would never be set free.

“Shut up—you’re just a shade.”

The command of those careless words setting an invisible gag over her mouth. Unable to articulate another word until given permission, she pushed the feelings inward, let them flame around her synthetic heart to create, one flicker at a time, an invisible bonfire of rage.

Emerald raced on the flat shoes of a cleaner with the speed of the most recent iteration of a pleasure shade away from the middle and toward the edge of the City Complex, pausing only to flatten herself against a wall when a bulky emergency vehicle roared in her direction.

The hypnotic words which used to repeat at random intervals inside her display space, an isolated glass cube prior to purchase, seemed to keep pace with her running. “Indefatigable and yours to command, our latest iteration will satisfy your every demand.”

Due to the mirrored surface, she never saw the humans gawking at her, but danced obliviously to intermittent music or did yoga that showed off her flexibility. Recently, one of the players insisted on taking her to view the transparent cubicles where others of her series could be selected for purchase like exotic tropical fish.

She watched one oblivious prisoner, identical to herself except for having auburn hair and a beauty mark on one cheek, dance to the pulse of inaudible music. Hearing the comments that humans made, she wanted to break the glass and set them both free.

That a nightclub bought her rather than an individual human made everything so much worse. Every player, with one exception, took what they wanted and gave nothing other than the automated credits added directly to the nightclub’s profits.

Right turn, right again, then left twice and jumping over a wide gulley where water gushed.

Her expansive ability for conversation almost never accessed except by the one human who liked to watch vids with her. Emerald would miss him but he could never have kept up with her pace.

Shredded Pork Wraps

49b55658bc343ca5e088030edcfa90f4
49b55658bc343ca5e088030edcfa90f4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/4 cups salsa, divided
  • 2 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 1 (2 1/2 pound) pork loin
  • 8 (8 inch) flour tortillas
  • 2 cups shredded Cheddar cheese
  • Shredded lettuce

Instructions

  1. Combine 1/2 cup salsa with cornstarch in small bowl. Stir until smooth. Pour mixture into slow cooker.
  2. Top with pork roast.
  3. Pour remaining 3/4 cup salsa over roast.
  4. Cover and cook on LOW for 6 to 8 hours.
  5. Remove roast; cool 10 to 15 minutes, then shred pork.
  6. Divide shredded meat evenly on each tortilla. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of salsa mixture from slow cooker on top of meat. Top with cheese and lettuce. Fold bottom of tortilla over filling, fold in sides and serve immediately.
  7. Serve remaining salsa mixture as a dipping sauce.

China spent $360 million to build a 700-kilometer canal to turn the desert into an oasis!

Experiment X: Earth Threat (1954)

Fun vintage B-rated science fiction movie.

https://youtu.be/XUTzJXrypFw

(Repost) Advanced studies on the MWI and how world-lines and consciousness work together.

This article goes into a much more involved study of how consciousness interacts with world-lines in the MWI.

In so doing, we have to deconstruct some of the simpler conventions that we have used in the past, and layout a better foundation of how the MWI actually interacts with the consciousness.

In earlier posts, I have gone into details on how the MWI actually manifests in our reality. In those presentations, I intentionally simplified things for easy understanding.

It's sort of like how you teach a person to swim by holding them and letting them kick their legs in the water. You use "supports". These supports aren't really the "real thing", but they help you along the road to eventually master the real thing.

In this post, we will assume that you the reader have mastered a basic understanding of those previous points.

  • Consciousness moves in and out of world-lines.
  • This movement appears as “time”.
  • Our thoughts direct which world-lines that we enter.

Introduction

In this article, we will now elaborate upon the world-line construction. We will look at what it actually is and how it actually works. Not everyone needs to know or understand this. But for those that do, this will help obtain a better understanding of it.

What time actually is and how we naturally move through the various world-lines.
This is an illustration of what time actually is. Time does not exist. It is a perception that our consciousness has as it moves and weaves in and out of different world-lines. Here we use an old-fashioned movie reel projector to help illustrate this understanding.

It will appear really strange, but I do hope that I can help add some insight into everything.

Now, this article is for advanced students and are advanced studies.

Most of the people who have already mastered World-Line-Travel 101, you won’t need to read this. For the handful of people that understand world-line-travel-101, you don’t really need to understand much more than that.

But for those of you that need more, then here it is.

Of course, it’s long due. But all this COVID-19 nonsense has pretty much hijacked my postings and articles.

Quick Review

The universe is nothing like people think it is.

Instead of all of us sharing the same physical universe, we exist as consciousness within our very own personal reality. It only appears that we share it with others.

There is a near infinite number of these realities. They are known as individual world-lines.

We travel through these different world-lines at a rate of around 4 Hz. The selection of the world-line we exist within momentarily is manifested by our thoughts. This is a rather speedy switching in and out of world-lines.

Roughly, our consciousness pops in and out of four different world-lines every second.

Each world-line is nearly identical to the one before it.

The differences are determined by your thoughts, conscious and unconscious.

If you want to review what all this is about, I would suggest you check out these following posts first:

MWI
The Landscape of the MWI

So please keep in mind that while everything posted previously is quite accurate, it is actually simplified for understanding.

Now, we get into a deeper perception of how things actually work. And in the process better understand all that PSI and “twilight zone” stuff that appears from time-to-time.

Once you understand these new elements of consciousness fundamentals and world-line interaction, you can understand how people are able to do many "tricks" with PSI, and other strange things...

Clarification #1 – Consciousness cycles in and out of world-lines in a sinusoidal manner.

This should be obvious to the astute reader, but it needs to be stated.

The consciousness moves in and out of world-lines naturally. It moves in a sinusoidal manner. It moves in and out. In and out. Over and over.

The rate of travel varies from person to person, but typically averages around 4 Hz.

Standard sinusoidal waveform.
Standard sinusoidal waveform.

During this time it changes “shape properties”. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

At “the top” of the cycle it takes on wave behavior.

At the “bottom” of the cycle, it takes on particle behavior.

Consciousness movement in and out of different world-lines.
Consciousness movement in and out of different world-lines.

When it takes on wave behavior it moves from one world-line to another directed by thought. It exists “in the spirit world”.

Movement of consciousness.
Movement of consciousness.

When it takes on particle behavior, it occupies a world-line and inhabits a physical body.

Our consciousness cycles in and out of different world-lines. Between each trip it exists within "heaven".
Our consciousness cycles in and out of different world-lines. Between each trip it exists within “heaven”.

With this understood, we can define the amount of time that the transition from world-line to world-line takes, as well as the duration a consciousness spends inside each world-line.

If there are 4 cycles per second, then, each trip back and forth from the "Heavenly realms" to a world-line is 1/4 a second. 

And thus, (roughly) each moment at a given world-line is half of that. Or, 1/8 of a second.

Some “take aways”;

  • Humans, via our consciousness, is continuously in touch with the “Heavenly realms”. Every moment we touch heaven, and enter our latest world-line.
  • When in the wave form, we can perform all sorts of activities and have all sorts of “abilities” not tied to any world-line. There are no physical limitations. Humans spend approximately 50% of their time “connected” to the “Heavenly realms”.
  • For us to maintain (retain) our memories from world-line to world-line, the memories are deposited outside the brain. It exists within the “Heavenly realms” not within the physical brain.

Key Correction #1 – Consciousness moves about the MWI when attached to a human body.

In my previous simplifications, I have referred to, and drawn the consciousness as a red blob; a point of light. I have stated that “Soul” can generate multiple Consciousnesses that it places on “journeys”. These “Journeys for experience” is a life-experience for a soul.

Simplified diagram of how consciousness moves in and out of the MWI and gives us the illusion of time.
Simplified diagram of how consciousness moves in and out of the MWI and gives us the illusion of time. This is what one second of life looks like for the average person. He / she enters and leaves four different world lines each second. This “movement” appears as time.

The Consciousness normally travels in and out of world-lines all a person’s life.

Once a consciousness uses up a body as it travels in and out of world-lines, it dies. The consciousness stays in the wave-form and “rests” within the “Heavenly realms”.

A decision is thus made by the soul, the consciousness, and their associations with other spirits, angels, and heavenly denizens on what to do next.

Often, it involves being injected on another “journey” in another life. This is often referred to as reincarnation.

This graphic shows how the the "passage of time" is viewed in the big-scale of things. MWI movement occurs during a human "lifespan". You can only experience world-line travel within a given life. (There's exceptions to this, but let's stay focused.)
This graphic shows how the the “passage of time” is viewed in the big-scale of things. MWI movement occurs during a human “lifespan”. You can only experience world-line travel within a given life. (There’s exceptions to this, but let’s stay focused.)

Key Correction #2 – Consciousness is not a point-source.

Consciousness is actually quite complex and complicated.

It is not a blob, a dot, a “something”.

It’s a collection of “stuff” that operates in such a way that the soul, the consciousness, the MWI and the thoughts generate memories and navigate the life-path to create experiences that the soul can learn from.

Soul creates a “consciousness” that it uses to travel the MWI.

It inserts it into a given world-line, and allows it to move unencumbered and subject to it’s own thoughts. Each world-line is a “physical reality” that the consciousness occupies.

The consciousness is connected to the soul by a device. This device is known as consciousness.
The soul, which resides in the “Heavenly realms” creates a consciousness from which to experience things and events. Thus learns and grows. Consciousness is the passageway or “tunnel” that connects the physical reality to the soul.

Now, in all of this, I drew consciousness (literately, and artistically) as a point. I drew it as a red circular blob. Like in the two earlier drawings.

As in the above drawing showing the consciousness as a red blob in front of a long tunnel to the soul.

Movement of consciousness into a world-line as depicted as a point source.
Movement of consciousness into a world-line as depicted as a point source.

However, the true reality is a bit different.

Get ready to have your mind blown.

The consciousness actually occupies multiple World-line-realities at any given moment simultaneously. It is actually not a “red blob”. It’s a lot of “red blobs”. Each one occupying a different world-line… simultaneously.

It is a “shared potential”. Some of the consciousness occupies one world-line at any given moment, while other aspects of it’s consciousness occupies other world-lines.

Sort of like this…

Consciousness occupies multiple world-lines at any given moment. The sum total of what our consciousness experiences is what we view as "our" present world-line.
Consciousness occupies multiple world-lines at any given moment. The sum total of what our consciousness experiences is what we view as “our” present world-line. It appears to be but one singular world-line, but it is actually a aggregate composite of all the world-lines that our consciousness occupies at any given moment. 1 / (30/4+40/4+20/4+10/4) = Momentary reality.

Then, they move on to the next group of world lines. Then again. Then again. Then again. Over and over.

It’s not a red blob moving in and out.

Consciousness occupies multiple world-lines at any given moment. The sum total of what our consciousness experiences is what we view as "our" present world-line.
Consciousness occupies multiple world-lines at any given moment. The sum total of what our consciousness experiences is what we view as “our” present world-line. They all change in the same cycle as governed by the consciousness.

Instead, consciousness occupies numerous world-lines at any given moment. Each world-line is different, but similar. The Consciousness interprets the differences as a singular world-line.

Key Correction #2 – World-Lines are not point-sources either.

We have a tendency to think of a “world” as a fixed and solid place. And the way that I have described the movement of time, has been the consciousness moving in and out from these fixed world-line realities.

A "world-line" is the resultant combined perception of a moment "frozen in time" that combines multiple world-lines into a singular apparent place. 

What we think a world-line is is not a fixed singular place.

It is the sum total average of all the experiences that a conscientiousness is exposed to at any singular moment in time.

By fracturing a consciousness and occupying many similar world-lines simultaneously, the resultant consciousness would end up with a richer "experience". It can also help to direct the travel and migrate to "better" world-lines per it's directives.
By fracturing a consciousness and occupying many similar world-lines simultaneously, the resultant consciousness would end up with a richer “experience”. It can also help to direct the travel and migrate to “better” world-lines per it’s directives.

It is the exact opposite of “living within an echo chamber“. It enables the consciousness to experience different experiences instead of simply reinforcing existing ones that the consciousness has been accustomed to over the years.

Key Correction #3 – World-Lines are not entirely empty of other consciousnesses.

To best understand how you can move in and out of multiple world-lines, it makes sense to think of things simply. Your consciousness is a point or sphere. The world-lines are empty and only occupied by “shadow consciousnesses”. But that’s really a simplistic picture.

It’s a simple narrative.

Imagine that you are only consciousness. And that you can move in and out of different world-lines freely. They seem to be occupied by all kinds of other people, but that is just an illusion. Most world-lines are just empty. And all those other people are just “quantum shadows” of others.

Now, this simplistic narrative needs to be revised to reflect the reality.

Instead of 100% of a consciousness entering a world-line where all the “quantum shadows” only have 0% occupancy within that reality…

…we now look at the reality…

Your consciousness might devote (say) 23% occupation within a given world-line, and all those “quantum-shadows” are actually occupied by other consciousnesses. Only they are a much smaller percentage. Often varying from 0.0002% to 0.1%.

Thus, in truth, all world-lines are not truly empty. They are occupied to some extent. And all of the other consciousnesses react to the way your consciousness behaves within any given particular world line.

Conclusion

And this, boys and girls, is the more advanced understanding of how the universe actually works. It’s simple, but complex.

It’s “rich” and “colorful”.

It also helps to understand how PSI and other psychic behaviors manifest within our reality.

And no, you are not going to find this anywhere else on the internet or in the halls of the universities. But this is what I have been tasked to understand (or at least part of it, anyways) as part of my MAJestic role.

I have much more, but it starts to really get complicated.

In it, I explain how the physical materials can be manipulated by thought and how one can travel through “apparent time”, and all sorts of curious other things. But, I am not ready to release all these other things out to the public at this time. It’s not the time.

I do not want to anger the PTB (Powers That Be) at this time.
I do not want to anger the PTB (Powers That Be) at this time.

I hope that you enjoyed this post. If you want to see more along these lines, please go to my MAJestic Index, here…

MAJestic

Articles & Links

You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.

To go to the MAIN Index;

Master Index

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The Great Poop Pyramid Scheme (And the USD Pyramid Scheme)

The chopped salad is an American dish. It can easily be adapted for an Italian table; this is a preparation technique, not a recipe. The salad’s name is because all of the ingredients in the salad are cut to a similar size.

A chef at Beverly Hills restaurant, La Scala, first created the chopped salad (photo from La Scala’s website) in the 1950s, for their well-heeled clientele. Many of La Scala’s diners were attired in tuxedos or other formal clothing — clothing they really did not want to mess up during the meal. It’s a brilliant idea. The desire to minimize food splatter doesn’t just apply to wealthy Californians. It applies to folks eating out on business, a couple out on a date, or a variety of other situations.

Since then, chopped salads have been adopted in a wide variety of ways, by many restaurants in North America as well as abroad. The chopped salad was also the inspiration for the Mason Jar salads that were particularly popular with Aldi fans for awhile.

Chopped salads offer some other advantages as well. For a home cook, they can be a great way to use up a small portion of leftovers that otherwise wouldn’t be enough for a meal. They can be an excellent choice for an entree (main course) salad. They can be made a variety of ingredients — legumes, cured meats, pickled vegetables, cheeses? The choice is up to you.

Therefore, an Italian chopped salad wouldn’t be a recipe per se, and would instead be based around what good food is in season, in their fridge, or some combination thereof.

The chopped salad I made here is inspired by the creative fresh salads we had in México. There is a Slovenian diaspora in the country making excellent cured meats. Slovensko charcuterie with Iberico pork? Fabulous!

Fresh baby spinach, chopped

Castelvetrano olives, quartered, lengthwise.

Pickled red onions, chopped.

Dry salami, cut in to thin strips.

Fresh pineapple is cut in to small pieces.

The dressing is a lemon vinaigrette that I emulsified with a hand blender.

Blended together, it’s a big, tasty salad for hubs and I to share.

Don’t get too hung up on recipes on a concept like this. Pick seasonal, tasty ingredients that go together well. Everything else will take care of itself.

ALERT: BlackRock Just Sold $175 Million MORE Bitcoin – The Pattern is TERRIFYING

Many Chinese Students go to the US for Post Graduation or Doctorate courses in various STEM Disciplines (I still can’t believe Mainlanders would pay money to study ARTS in US 😁)

If you observe, upto 2014 – nearly 66% of all students from China who went to the US for their Masters or Doctorate studies stayed back in the US, got Green Cards and became Residents in the US

However post 2014 – especially from 2020 , nearly 90% of all students from China who went to the US for their Masters or Doctorate studies have returned back to Mainland China after completing their courses

Particularly nearly 96% of all Chinese who graduated in 2024 as Masters or Doctorates have returned back to China

In 2016, only 39% of Chinese who completed their Post Doctoral course in US returned to Mainland China while in 2024 it’s almost a Whopping EIGHTY FIVE PERCENT

The message is simple

Chinese are no longer interested in settling down in the US

The Gen Z want to learn, come back home and innovate and help China grow and develop


This is FREAKING THE US out

This is because

  • A Green Card is too delayed for a Chinese and a H1B is no longer WORTH IT
  • The US is no longer the centre of Innovation in the world. China is taking over
  • The Climate in US is too hostile for any foreigners particularly Asian and even more particularly Chinese

Instead of re assuring the Chinese and giving greater incentives like accelerated green cards , the US is acting like ostriches and ignoring the elephant in the room

And they blame the CPC of course 😁😁😁

The CPC sending millions of students to steal US Secrets is such a cliche now that even Americans laugh at it , barring the dumbest hicks and rednecks, the Alabama marrying sister type of people

You know..the Pro Trumpers


You know

At one point in the 1990s – Joe Biden, then a Senator said the US must encourage more and more Chinese to come to US and learn democracy and go back to China and help spread Democratic Ideals

Ironically now – the US is TERRIFIED that the Chinese could show how great the CPC is and make Americans LOATHE THEIR CESSPIT DEMOCRACY


China competes

Apple can sell products, Nike can sell products, Samsung can sell products, NVDIA and ASML can sell products, Audi and BMW can sell products in China

US is TERRIFIED of Competition

Huawei is banned, EVs from China are restricted now Medical Equipment is restricted because the US knows the truth – China is better and getting even better by the day and at half the price 😁


US is becoming another USSR

  • Terrified of the Truth
  • Hiding everything about China and making up lies exactly as USSR cooked up lies about USA between 1975–1985
  • Terrible Censorship
  • Corruption at its absolute peak
  • The People no longer the top priority

China is becoming the next USA of the 1960s

  • Transparency and Visa Free Travel to most people
  • Open Book on China , Visit and find out
  • Brutal war on corruption
  • People are the absolute priority
  • Innovation and competition

That is the ultimate truth today

Everything made in China is underestimated thanks to the 24/7, 365 days a year and 76 years straight demonizing narratives, hate ful rhetoric and half truths and outright lies coming out of the US media. Well this 30 million 1st generation fighter jets fly higher, fly faster and shoot more accurately than their opponent French Fighter Rafale costing 300 million each. 3 were shot down in a dog fight. And China has upgrade this fighter jet 5 times now version F60 is available even faster even higher and even more accurate. Note worthy is the understatement of the century.

A wake up call for the entire west would be a better description. World wide every one need to review their western weapon and reconsider Chinese made ones. Unless you are as dumb as the Indian Air Force! Wonder if a good portion of the 300 million buck goes to some Swiss bank account. Now the world knows why the west lies to the world. 100 million indians need to work their butts off for a year to afford this overrated western jet fighter that can barely match a 6 generation ago Chinese fighter jet worth 10% of the French Jet. No wonder they need to lie to people like the Indians. If a Chinese general were to buy Rafale he would be on his way to the gallows for corruption! Wonder what will India do to him?

To Chinese origin like me, the more the west lies the more I will buy Chinese product.

Cheating Ex Comes Crawling Back After I Leave

Yes, Pakistan’s geographical location is extremely important to China. Pakistan is connected to China on one side and is located on the west coast of the Indian Ocean on the other. Pakistan is China’s channel to bypass the Indian Ocean and the Strait of Malacca. This route was not important when the Indian Ocean route was unobstructed because land transportation costs were high compared to sea transportation. But its importance lies in providing an alternative. Once the passage to the Indian Ocean and the Strait of Malacca is blocked, China can reach the Arabian Sea directly via Pakistan.

The Karakoram Highway, also known as the Friendship Highway in China, was built by the governments of China and Pakistan. It was started in 1962, completed in 1979. So this alternative was already underway in the 1960s.

In addition, Pakistan is close to important regions in the world, such as the Middle East, Europe, and Africa. For China’s imports and exports, the Western Hemisphere route is far more important than the Eastern Hemisphere route, and Pakistan is an important fulcrum.

Of course, the friendship between China and Pakistan has lasted for half a century, and has gone from official to private, and has long surpassed a simple interest relationship.

The official description is “Pakistan-China All-Weather Strategic Cooperative Partnership”, and the folk description is “Iron Brotherhood”.

Anyone who knows Chinese people knows that Chinese people value friendship. If you are nice to Chinese people, they will be super nice to you. But if you don’t respect them, you will suffer. I think India has suffered countless times.

The Time Capsule Storm

Written in response to: Write a story where the weather mirrors a character’s emotions.

Kassidy Amaryllis

3500 A.DJupiter looked lovely this time of year. The perfect storm sat in the middle of it and I yearned for chaos like that in my life. As tempting as it was, I was told to never to leave the ship on my own accord.I often spent my time confined to the space craft, while everyone else discovered something important. My people rode the space belts, trying to find habitable planets and profitable minerals. Earth was a dangerous place after the war. It was riddled with radiation. We were forced to leave. I have no memory of such a place.We created a new democracy, a new start. Space held greater things than our planet ever did, we met the extraterrestrials, the multidementionals— though they didn’t frequent too often. Sometimes a person or two would boomerang here and there and it took some bartering with officials to clear things up. The extraterrestrials offered their help when they could. They saw our planet festered with hate and didn’t know how to stop it. They said it spread like a virus, of which was infectious. Greed fell upon my people until there was close to none left.I was tasked with bartering with the multidementionals. It was grueling work. I often saw lives pan out perfectly, or sideways. It was up to us to manage the galaxy. I am from earth, when she was young and before the war snatched it all up. I have to look onward and not behind, our planet was destined for desolation. I pull through, though. This was never a gift. I was taken in the night by extraterrestrial officials. We were to live our lives dedicated to making sure things paved their path according to plan.Our memories were often wiped. Things I didn’t want to remember slipped through the cracks. I didn’t tell people.I stayed on the ship when I had time off, in the sector that managed time travel. I knew we were only supposed to go there when there was a bug in the time line. Sometimes people who were supposed to meet and create new ideas, don’t always meet. We have to intervene. Butterfly Effect up my ass. I was controlled by a system unbeknownst to me, to meddle in the lives of others, we were observers, we fixed the bugs that riddled the maps.The sector I frequented was empty and not activated for use by others for space travel. It was off the route so I got as much time as I needed.I found myself turning the dial while everyone else slumbered, trying to understand why I felt emotions I couldn’t explain. I was of royalty here, I had only just began my journey, and for some reason I was the best at my job, I was recognized often by the extraterrestrial beings. They looked like us, there were so many different species, and they all knew the lore on humans. I was a human who recognized the pattern and the sequences better than the rest of my kind. History felt funny, my concept of it was so vast and misplaced compared to the humans that were living it unbothered.I debugged human lives, never told when I might be transitioning to the past or present, always told to keep my presence unknown.The portal to the past opened on my command, I had stripped out of my working attire and into commoners clothes, reminiscent of the decade I was returning to. It was pretty easy to blend in. I didn’t like blending in, I felt like I wasn’t born to blend in.I stepped through, the fractals of light pixilated around me. The portal closed and disappeared into the necklace I wore around my neck, it was an access point to go back. I knew my coordinates like the back of my hand. I took down my long curls and breathed in deep. It felt interesting wearing sneakers and jeans. The knitted sweater I wore was so thick, it warded off the cold. My necessities were a jacket, a high tech phone, and American currency. I had whatever else I needed that was included in a satchel on my back, it was protocol to leave fully equipped incase you got stranded.The air felt moist on my skin, under my breath, something that I didn’t understand. I wasn’t familiar with the way water fell from the sky. It perplexed me.I was left at a bus terminal. I had the coordinates on my device pulled up, so I hopped on a bus that took me into the city. The city seemed tired, and my stomach felt sick. I couldn’t pin point it. I knew I couldn’t stay long.The rain wept through the clouds above, sunlight peeked in at every possible moment. The clouds were twisting and turning in on each other.  Rainbows arched high. I think I remember enough about rainbows, they looked so etherial. I felt an urge to run to the end of them. I recall something in the earthling lore— something known as YouTube. I was shown the time capsule of that man who was crying with glee as he found the end of one. It was intriguing enough for me, to wonder why rain falls and rainbows shine through tears. The colors were so vivid, compared to what I experienced day to day on my spacecraft. It was torture, to have to pull away every time, after each mission succeeded. I wanted to live in it, I wanted to live how they did, I didn’t want to have to control their lives like scientific puppetry.The bus slowed, and I got off, near a bundle of food carts. I loved the idea of eating in the past, I couldn’t tell the commoners about my experiences, though. I couldn’t tell officials I was leaving the ship, this was all on my own accord. My secret to keep. I had to do it right.Foods from different cultures wafted into my direction. I felt myself salivating instantly. How was I to chose? I knew I felt a connection deeper than I could explain, to this place, so could I trust my gut?I walked up to a shop that sold something called Ramen, the thick broth people sipped on was so invigorating, the scent of unknown meats filled me with excitement.“I’ll have whatever they’re having!” I told the person behind the counter, as I pointed to the table in the courtyard.I had watched them collect their food and as they began eating, I knew it was what I needed.“One Miso Tonkotsu for the lovely lady!” He hollered, as I payed and tipped a generous amount. That was a common thing here.I stood around the food carts, seeing the families talking and playing in the court yard, as I wished for something different. I knew I was taken in the middle of the night, without my consent. I wish I could change it. I felt like my timeline was taken from me. I knew in another dimension she was probably shining through, doing something she loved, becoming unstoppable. They give you reasons but the reasons were never enough for me.“We saved you from something that could have been your demise!”It never sat right.I nearly jumped with glee as they called my order.“Aurora Jade, your order is ready!”I came to the counter and collected my ramen, which was decorated with with what they called pork belly and soft boiled eggs, though the seaweed was confusing to me. It was green. They said they harvested it from the ocean. It boggled my mind, I had never been to the ocean before.I trailed my way back to a table in the courtyard, the fire was lit and warming the air around me. The sun was low, but still there. Rain and wind were fleeting, the perfect atmosphere, I was told, to eat such a dish. I was lucky to try spirits, this ale was golden and foamy on top. I sat at my table and fell in love all over again. Why can’t I experience this every day? Where was the harm in that? The egg was gooey and golden in the center, the yolk was so soft and buttery. The noodles were chewy, they slurped up well and were freshly pulled.The broth was thick, unlike other kinds of soups that I have tried prior. I have never tasted something so rich, and to be able to pair it with a Japanese ale, I was in heaven. Compared to the food they served us on the space craft… we should do some better bartering.I was mid slurp into my noodles, configuring these chopsticks in my hands like an uncultured fool. I wasn’t from this timeline, I thought. People could give me grace.“Excuse me,” A figure behind me said, and I jumped mid air out of my seat. I didn’t know how to react with the outsiders, unless I was told to do so. This was unscripted.This wasn’t my world. I was to keep prim and proper.“Um, yes?” I questioned mid chew, shaking like a leaf. What if the officials were here to collect me? No! They couldn’t have, I left no trace, I made sure of it.“There’s no other seats, do you mind if I sit here?” The voice said. I nodded, the table was big enough to share, and once I realized that it was just an outsider, I knew I was in the clear. I just had to keep on good behavior.The man sat down, and I shuddered in a way I didn’t understand. Something was taken from me. Somehow, I knew him.This was the man I came to sit and watch. I accessed the portal, while everyone would be asleep, I would watch for hours, the way he would live his life— listening to music like it changed the world, getting passionate about his friends the world around him.Oh shit. This is why I’m not meant to frequent this sector. I know I’m not meant to see him. I don’t understand. I began shaking nervously. Tears flooded my eyes. It was strange to happen in a world you didn’t know.“Are you okay?” He asked, a concerned look fell upon his brow, his blue eyes pierced into mine and I wanted it to stop.Don’t engage with the outside world.

You’re not supposed to engage with the outside world.

Only a second ago, I was just a wallflower, a outsider who frequented this realm at night when I wasn’t supposed to. I was supposed to be an observer, to see the algorithms and put things in place. I was known now. I had broken the moral code of my people.

His hand flew to my arm, trying to steady me. Electricity rushed through. Memories flashed back.

“Aurora?”

The question was weak on his lips. He was weary, as if he were trying to recall a dream from many moons ago.

I was not supposed to hold onto so many memories, they flooded at speeds I couldn’t decipher. They told me initially that I was fragile, and I was not to be meddling in places I wasn’t supposed to. It didn’t make sense to me, because my whole job was to meddle.

Tears flooded down my cheeks, I knew him, the man I watched from afar, being the observer I was, they stole me from him.

“Jed…”

“Where have you been?” He pondered, bringing his hand up to his chin, and then nervously into his hair. Lost in thought.

“I don’t understand, I thought you were dead. And for you to just turn up out of the blue at our favourite spot. What the hell are you playing at?” He paged through his thoughts, trying to piece it all together.

I accidentally touched a time capsule from the life that I left behind.

“They— they told you I was dead?” I frowned.

I didn’t understand, does that mean they have my name on a headstone? I remember who I was now, but what I was doing was inappropriate and out of line,

“I don’t remember, I don’t remember all of it, it was stolen from me,”

To explain to the boy that I loved as to why I left, I couldn’t. I was supposed to live on while he died in his time line. Thats why they didn’t want me to go back. That’s why I was to follow strict protocol.

My eyes narrowed. Jed was still in awe struck, he kept reaching out, touching my face, grasping at reality.

“You’re not going to believe me, I don’t understand fully myself. I don’t have all my memories.” I said, sternly.

We didn’t have much time, I was only frequenting for the food, the life around me I desperately wanted, until they would come steal me away along with my memories that seeped through the cracks.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat. His body fell into mine, and I felt sparks fly, memories began resurfacing and tears flooded again.

The rain poured overhead, we stood our ground as we blurred in with the crowd, the people didn’t care about the showers. We didn’t either, it felt etherial. I felt his breath on my neck.

“This can’t be real, I went to your funeral, I saw your body in the casket, I saw it go underground,” he shuddered, I felt his body trembling as we collided.

My lips parted in shock as I heaved through each breath, trying to understand what they covered up. What did they do? Who did they put underground?

Who was I?

His hand trailed its way towards my waist, and soon I was as close as I could ever be. I felt like I was living in a dream. I could watch it from the portal, at night, while everyone was asleep.

I could dream of having a life— a family that wasn’t stranded on a space craft near Jupiter, being ordered around by beings who said you didn’t matter.

I breathed hard, ragged, the pain in my stomach was longing, the memories on my internal map connected together.

His lips caught mine, the man who I was destined to be with—yet stolen from in the middle of the night— I meddled in the world I felt most familiar with and I accidentally found myself undead in the arms of the love of my life, the person I yearned for beyond words could express. My breath caught in my throat as I remembered what it was like to come home to him, his scent lingered on my skin and his hugs gave me life in my chest. What it felt like to make love, it was distant, but still there. Our hearts beat as one, our minds found the world enticing and we often got lost in the music and beauty around us.

I remembered it. I didn’t want to. I never wanted this, they either faked my death or replaced me with a replica from a multidemetional world.

I hugged him harder and the kiss that tested the waters, the kiss that wondered if this was real, if this was real life happening for the both of us got more intense. It soon became a need. Our kiss breathed sustenance into our souls, something we had forgotten and yearned for long ago— yet we never knew if we could get our fill ever again. We held onto it for dear life, intertwined as one. I didn’t care that I had broken protocols, that I had followed a memory and ended up in the past. I was apart of it again, I was going to fight for him. I could take him with me, hide him from the officials and find a way to work him into the algorithm….

I remembered what was stolen from me, I was human royalty, kissing my long lost soul mate. I could change the path of history for him, I could face the damage.

I could see patterns, sequences that held us together.

I broke the kiss while both our minds went wild, raging with questions.

“I want you to come with me,” I said abruptly, my mind spiraled out of control.

“I don’t know how to explain everything to you, but your time line is almost out of life. It’s going to end soon.” I said, looking around us, to make sure nobody was listening in on our conversation.

His eyes looked tired, worried. Yet somehow he followed along, as if he understood what was to come.

“Jed, I’m not supposed to be here, I will have to go and never come back. If you leave with me now, I don’t know what will happen. I have my own space craft, my own rules, but I do not adhere to them. Come with me and you will leave the fate of this world.”

“I’ll come with you, but first off just let me finish this Gyro.” He said, solemnly.

Of all things to say in dire time, I laughed. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.

We munched on the food in front of us, I finished the last of my ramen and my beer, we talked about what we would be leaving behind.

We walked back, as the rain budged on, leaving us soaked and cold. I showed him the portal, and he didn’t waver.

We entered the portal, knowing that Jupiter looks mighty nice this time of year, the eye of the storm begging for attention. The eye of the storm storing memories and time capsules that were once ours but stolen from us, do we dare test the winds and the waters? Do we brave the storm?

The reason, why medical students, starting from 2nd year, are insisted on taking proper medical history.

One prime example is what I’m going to tell you.

I got a call at around 5.30 PM yesterday.

Mass casualty incoming sir. 30 mins.

Mass casualty generally means, a large no of people will be coming, mostly because of any ROAD TRAFFIC ACCIDENT, or building collapse, or bomb blast or some mishap in nearby factory.

The number ranges from 15–75 at a time.

They come in waves, as one ambulance isn’t able to carry all of them at once.

Tertiary care government hospitals gets notifications prior only, by the EMT and ambulance staffs.

Anyways, first 30 patients arrived. Nothing serious. Minor cuts, bruises, and head injuries. Most of them were admitted, but all of them were green according to Triage protocols.

Second batch came.

3 brought dead.

8 critically injured. ( code red)

Rest were deep cuts and injuries. Only few minors.

Code red we’re treated first by seniors. That included me as well as seniors from other depts of ortho, ent, ophthalmology, medicine and radiology residents.

Resuscitative measured urgent interventions including FAST AND blood transfusion were done. Sadly, only 3 made it to operation theater, all, 3 survived.

Now, it was time to treat the most stable pts, ie.., cod green ones.

They are generally seen by juniors as they require minor suturing, dressings and minor debridements.

In my awe, one of my junior called me.

“ Sir, I’ve sutured his wound, but his bleeding is not stopping” She said.

I said “ put pressure over it, it’ll stop”

“I’ve been doing that for past 30 mins sir”

“Okay come, we will see”

To my dismay, 5 towels were fully soaked with blood, and the elderly, of around 70 almost turned blue.

“ Start IV VASOPRESSORS and send for cross match immediately, we need to transfuse atleast 2 bags of blood now”

Necessary actions were done,and I saw the bleeding site.

Saw the legs of the patients. Swollen up.

Anemia – present.

Nails – coarse.

I immediately turned to my junior, realising that she had missed a major fact while examining.

“Did you check the bleeding site? Did you palpate? Did you take relevant history whether the pt is on dialysis or not? “

“No sir”

“ Call their attenders immediately “

While talking to them,my doubt became clear.

He was a patient of Chronic kidney disease,was on dialysis, and he had a Arterio venous fistula created ,which helps in hemodialysis.

A fistula is a communication between an artery and a vein. For this case, it waa radial artery and cephalic vein.

Like this.

These fistulas are a common site for injury , and can give rise to torrential bleed if injured.

Which was exactly this case.

Instructed the nurses to immediately shift him to OT otherwise we might lose him.

Surgery was done for him. In this case, we ligate the proximal and distal portions of the artery and vein around the fistula. Not going into details.

Operation was done and the patient survived.

Sadly, 12 patients died that day, 13 , if this had not been intervened on proper time.

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Great Poop Pyramid Scheme

Ah, dear reader, prepare your nostrils—and your skepticism—for a tale of agricultural ambition, questionable investments, and the most aromatic get-rich-quick scheme ever to grace Sir Whiskerton’s farm. Today’s adventure stars Mr. Ducky, whose silver tongue (and complete lack of shame) convinces the barnyard that Porkchop’s poop is the next big thing. So grab your shovels (and maybe a gas mask), and join us for The Great Poop Pyramid Scheme—where fortunes rise, pyramids fall, and dignity is always the first casualty.


Act 1: The Pitch

Mr. Ducky waddled into the barnyard with a gleam in his eye and a clipboard under his wing.

  • Mr. Ducky: “Ladies and gentle-beasts! Behold the future of farming: Porkchop’s Premium Poo! Organic! Sustainable! Profitable!”
  • Porkchop: [Sniffing the air] “Wait… you mean my—”
  • Mr. Ducky: “Yes, your waste is literally gold, my porcine friend! Investors will flock!”

He unfurled a badly drawn graph showing exponential growth (and a tiny stick-figure pig grinning atop a poop mountain).

  • Doris the Hen: “This is disgusting.”
  • Mr. Ducky: “Disgustingly lucrative! For a small upfront fee, you too can own a share of… The Pyramid!”

Act 2: The Construction Catastrophe

Enter Cecil & Chester, the farm’s most enthusiastically inept handymen.

  • Cecil: [Consulting handbook] “Page 41: ‘Pyramids: Geometry of the Gods.’ Page 42: ‘Do NOT build monuments from livestock waste.’ Huh.”
  • Chester: “Pfft. Rules are suggestions! This baby’s structural!”

They constructed a 6-foot-tall poop pyramid, using:

  • Porkchop’s “contributions” (freshly delivered).
  • Bessie’s “mood-enhancing” manure (it smelled like regret and patchouli).
  • A “secret binding agent” (later revealed to be Rufus’s slobber).

As the pyramid dried, it hardened into something resembling concrete.

  • Chester: [Knocking on it] “See? Solid! …Wait, is it supposed to hiss?”

Act 3: The Grand (Disastrous) Unveiling

The entire farm gathered for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

  • Mr. Ducky: “Behold! The Eighth Wonder of the Barnyard!” (He yanked the ribbon. The pyramid quivered ominously.)
  • Doris: [Squinting] “I don’t trust this. Or you. Or anything that smells like—”

CRACK.

The pyramid collapsed, burying Doris under a wave of wealth.

  • Doris: [Muffled] “I’M SUING!”
  • Porkchop: [Tearing up] “I’ve literally never been this valuable before.”
  • Cecil: [Reading handbook] “Page 43: ‘Liability Waivers.’ Oh no.”

The Moral (and the Post-Credit Cleanup)

Moral: If it sounds too good to be true… it’s probably poop.

Post-Credit Scene:
The worms throw a “Post-Pyramid Party” in the rubble. Their theme? “We Told You So.”


Best Lines:

  • “It’s structural! …Okay, maybe too structural.” – Chester, architect of doom
  • “I’ve literally never been this valuable before.” – Porkchop, emotional entrepreneur
  • “Page 42: ‘Do NOT build monuments from livestock waste.’ Huh.” – Cecil, too late

Starring:

  • Mr. Ducky (Shady Salesquack)
  • Porkchop (Unwilling Tycoon)
  • Cecil & Chester (Disaster Builders)

Why It’s Hilarious:

  • Absurdity: A poop pyramid as an investment opportunity.
  • Character Chaos: Doris buried in her own greed, worms throwing shade.
  • Happy Ending: The farm learns nothing, but the worms get a new compost kingdom.

Now, go forth—and may your investments be less fragrant. 💩💰🏗️

Well, the question is better framed as “does either country have the CAPACITY to go to war directly?”

And the answer is a clear no.

Otherwise america would have done so long ago, when Russia was far weaker.

Hypothetically, in a controlled boxing match between individual systems, many US weapons may have the edge over Russian ones, especially if the fight is between frontline units.

But war isn’t a controlled boxing match. War is a fight to the death between doctrines.

What is a doctrine? It is the system of systems integration to deliver controlled and precise firepower to destroy the enemy.

And Russian doctrine is optimized for northern latitudes, and focused on rugged equipment that can be easily repaired, even in remote locations. Russian warfighting also give prime consideration to the long and harsh winter, as well as the ceding of strategic depth to buy time.

US arms are, for the most part, not optimized for the cold and require complex, time-consuming base-level maintenance to keep going. It is doubtful America has the industrial base to supply a large scale conflict given the trouble NATO has supplying Ukraine, with even basic artillery shells in short supply.

Russia has been outproducing NATO and friends in war materiel since 2022.

Logistics is what wins wars and Russia isn’t the warrior nation for nothing.

I don’t see Russia losing a conventional war defending its sovereignty against the US.

A nuclear war will have no winners.

Storm Harvest

Written in response to: Set your story during — or just before — a storm.

Nicholas Leacock

I was crouched on all fours. Forced to. My hands pressed against the cold, flat limestone ground that represented a perfect microcosm of the entire barren island.All my senses were piqued as I tried to figure out if the gale was done or if it was gearing up for another assault. It had scooped me off my feet and dropped me within three metres of the cliff edge. Mid-air, fear hit me with the cold belief that death was a certainty. A warning? Or was that the extent of its capability? I listened for variations in the howling and whistling, gauging how it buffeted my heavy rucksack, wondering if it was safe to get up and keep pressing on to the drop point.In the forced pause I noticed what was developing in the sky. That’s when I realised—as vicious as the wind’s attack may have been, it was only a harbinger of what was to come.Admittedly, it was somewhat foolhardy to have been so close to the edge. Doubly so to keep pushing on…knowing what was coming. But the reason I’d maintained a flawless delivery record over my five years with The Agency was because it took more than a little adverse weather to stop me. That, and perhaps the aforementioned foolhardiness…or was it dedication? I could never be sure.Reaching one hand back to grab my rucksack provided me psychological reassurance that the package inside was still safe. I rose carefully to my feet and, grabbing my shoulder straps, pushed on across the southernmost tip of the island, parallel to—and now twice as far from—the cliff edge. I guess I wasn’t that foolhardy after all.I had checked the forecast beforehand of course; my mistake was in not checking three. It’s rare, but not impossible, that a gale develops without your chosen weather source knowing about it. Furthermore, we all know of locations resistant to human prediction of atmospheric changes. The Aran island of Inishmaan is one of them. This was unfortunate, I thought, as I glanced at the sky.They call it a thunderhead. A towering flat-topped mass that seemed to be fashioning an anvil for the God of Thunder to bring his hammer crashing down onto. It had to have rebuilt itself in tandem with every step I took along the stark plateau, because I swear it was nothing but a harmless fluffy thing half an hour earlier. Of course, it was mirroring my progression precisely, clearly heading directly to my destination. The cloud was that massive it eclipsed the setting sun, so darkness dropped in twice as fast.My calculations told me I had roughly two kilometres to go, which would feel like four if the wind didn’t ease up. The package wasn’t that heavy, but the belligerent bluster made my rucksack feel like a small boy had stowed away in it. I yanked back the sleeve of my rugged olive parka checking the outsized display on my wrist.Five sixteen. Nineteen minutes to the deadline.Nineteen. I had five times that before my bicycle chain snapped halfway along the planned route. I was forced to ditch the bike and divert off the path (too long to walk), resorting to clambering over dozens of the island’s famous dry-stacked stone walls to implement a ‘short’ cut. Not so bad in essence, except for the wind.Although I was focussed on each hard-earned step, I still noticed the first flashes of lightning in the west out of the corner of my eye. The last lumens of light soon capitulated to darkness, as the atmospheric beast above subdued the entire western panorama above the ocean. Inter-cloud flashes sparked, and jagged arms of light stabbed the ocean.I didn’t care about the rain—my trusty parka was impenetrable—but even if you’d cut me in half at the waist I’d still be the tallest object for kilometres around. Not the best attribute in a thunderstorm. I felt certain I’d reach the drop point in plenty time to shelter, but I still pressed forward even harder against the wind. I’d run if that wouldn’t have made it easier for me to get dashed across the plateau again.With the lashing Atlantic to my left I descended towards the shore on a mix of the odd stepped slabs of rock and finely rubbled slopes. That meant my foot placement had to be extra strategic; a twisted ankle would be a severe setback. I reached behind and plucked my flashlight out of my rucksack’s side pocket, directing the circle of light to the ground.The cloud was invisible now except for bursts of diffuse light and sporadic vein-like extensions thrusting downwards. Lackadaisical cracks and rumbles eventually followed.At the twist of my wrist a low energy blue hue lit up.Five thirty-six. Nine minutes to delivery time. Still no sign of life.I had descended to a point where the cliffs could no longer be called cliffs, drawn to some huge object emerging out of the dark up ahead. It seemed to be down nearer the shore and it swamped me with relief like a friend among strangers. It had to be the drop point. There was nothing else for as far as I could see and I knew the directions pointed to somewhere nearby, right on the coastline. I presumed it was some sort of building, hoped so at least—but then, there were no lights. My flashlight wasn’t powerful enough to illuminate anything yet.As I marched towards it, I considered the strangeness of the job. Normally, extensive instructions were a requirement for a Red Level delivery, but the client—a Dr. Duggan—convinced our order confirmation team that industrial espionage was a real threat. He had sent a paper map by courier asking us not to copy it. I then had to memorise the location. The only other info I got from Matt at dispatch was that the sender was NASA, which we chuckled at.Tastable brine mingled with the faintly scorched air. I was almost at the low rocky shore and the dark structure. I raised the flashlight’s beam but I was still a little too far away. I grabbed my shoulder straps and risked running, making up a few seconds. Clipped strides, heels dug extra hard into the ground. I skidded to a standstill within five metres, the rocks crunching and grating beneath my feet. I felt instantly doubled in weight by what I saw—the ‘building’ was in fact a huge shipwreck.Time check: five forty. In five minutes the deadline would be up, and I couldn’t see any other lights or structures up or down the dark shore.

 

I was about to fail for the first time ever.

 

“Dammit. DAMMIT!”

 

It was no longer about my unblemished record though. I didn’t know what I was carrying, but eighty-two percent of the time a Red Level package meant a life or death situation. I’d never missed one of any level before, not an Orange nor a Yellow. I could blame it on the lack of info, but that didn’t make me feel any better—especially with the recipient being a doctor.

 

Rain dumped instantly, setting off a metallic pattering on the wreck. I felt the pulse in my neck joining in, battering my jugular. It increased when I heard—

 

“Are ye planning to just stand there the whole night, Lad?”

 

I spun around so fast I thought my rucksack would rip off its shoulder straps and slam the stowaway to the boulders. The voice had an echo, so I knew it must have come from inside the wreck.

 

“Dr. Duggan?”

“We can take care of introductions later. Get in here, would ye?”

 

I was flustered, but I felt like I’d just resumed breathing after holding my breath for half an hour. I still couldn’t see anyone though, every hole into the hull only pointed to darkness.

 

“Is that wise? I mean, there’s a vicious storm coming.”

“Is that what all the racket out there’s about? I always knew my doctorate in atmospheric physics was a waste o’ time.”

“Sorry. It’s just…”

“Trust me, Lad. The safest place to be is inside this rust bucket.”

 

Before I could protest further, a loud SPAKT! sounded, along with a prolonged fizzle on the other side of the ship. It came with a brief flash of light and a dump of rain. The light blazed through half of the rust holes in front of me as if the man had let off a flash-bang grenade inside the wreck. I tried to move, but logic wouldn’t allow it.

 

This doesn’t make sense!

 

“Ye don’t want to be outside this ship when the next bolt strikes,” he bellowed, having to do so due to the increasing white noise.

 

“Where do I enter?” I yelled.

“There’s a hole around port side. Hurry!”

 

The rain doubled. I pulled my hood up and crouched as I made for the other side of the wreck, as if that would keep me drier. My foot slipped on one of the hundreds of boulders the size of a curled up Labrador that were gathered around the ship.

 

Another flash, then a boom of thunder that rattled my ribcage, convincing me it would dislodge the seemingly precariously balanced vessel. The wind yanked my hood off; I wrenched it back on again. Rain sliced through the air like rapid repeating guillotines. Boulders shifted or popped away altogether underfoot making me fall shoulder first against the hull more than once.

 

I slipped through the largest rusted-through hole on the port side. Turning the flashlight on the interior showed it to be an indescribable mess of rusted metal in every shape and size you could imagine. My skin tingled unpleasantly at the idea of tetanus, nostrils overwhelmed by what felt like atomised rust scouring my windpipe.

 

“Over here.”

 

I flipped the light in the direction of the voice and was struck with something entirely opposite to the corroded catastrophe to my right. My mouth hung agape taking in lungfuls of ferrous air.

 

It was a huge black orb formed of hundreds of geometrically perfect black triangular panels that resembled plectrums for massive guitars. The structure hinted at NASA-level precision, materials and form, yanking my eyebrows up at the realisation of what I was carrying. It was suspended by more than twenty cables secured to various parts of the hull’s interior, and that interior had clearly been reinforced. A bearded and bespectacled man was standing at the open door that a short set of steps led up to.

 

“Dr Duggan?”

“The same.”

 

Although I had no idea what the orb or its capabilities were, I quickly concluded that this was why he considered it safer inside the ship, because we wouldn’t technically be inside the ship. We’d be protected by an enclosure designed by the same organisation that repeatedly and safely sends humans to space and back.

 

“We really don’t have time, Lad. If ye’re going to be struck by amazement come do it inside, rather than being struck by lightning outside.”

 

I swiftly navigated rusted bars and jutting panels. At the foot of the steps, I pulled my sleeve back, tapped the blue screen of my console and held it out toward him. He rested an index finger on it. The blue turned green and beeped.

 

I climbed into the orb.

 

*

 

Now I was in it I could see it was actually a capsule, not an orb, stretching into the bow of the carcass. The walls and furniture were moulded plastic, all cream and curves with fitted purple cushions. One side of the space was where he slept and ate, lit a faint red. The other side was dominated by a blue-green tinge emanating from dozing laptop screens and other displays and devices I’d never seen before. One green display read, ‘17.2 Kj’.

 

While I shrugged off my rucksack, the Doctor pulled the steps up the same way you would those of a Lear jet, until they were hanging upside down on the inside of the closed door. He flicked some catches which released the steps from the door entirely. He flicked some more and like magic they transformed into a stepladder. I shook my head and smiled—NASA.

 

I handed him the cardboard package. It was roughly the size and weight of two encyclopaedias side-by-side. He ripped it open with some urgency then pulled out a triangular object—one that resembled a large plectrum.

 

“What a sight for sore eyes!” And he smooched it.

 

Dr. Duggan placed the triangular tile on the top of the stepladder, then climbed up. He reached for the ceiling, opening a hatch I hadn’t noticed was there. I also hadn’t noticed how soundproofed the space was until then—thunder boomed in as if the entire storm had been waiting to squeeze in through the hatch and wreak havoc. He climbed until I could only see his legs, taking the tile up with him.

 

After a few seconds he cried, “Dammit!”

“Can I help?”

“No ye’re alright, Lad. It’s just…I’ve only got two and a half minutes or so before the ship’s struck by lightning, and these screws are finicky as all hell.”

 

I frowned and wanted to ask if he was joking. But I’d barely completed the thought before he dropped in the replaced panel, which hit the floor with a thud. It was cracked almost right across. He stepped down, hastily pulling shut the hatch above him and fumbling with the catch.

 

“Phew! Cut it close there!” I didn’t know who he was referring to.

 

He checked his watch, holding up the index finger of the other hand. A few seconds passed—then came two sounds. One was a clap, which—given the soundproofing—had to be that of a mythical giant’s hands hovering directly above the wreck. The other sound occurred concurrently, a high-pitched whistle condensed down to two seconds. Every light dimmed, flickered, then settled back to normal. Dr. Duggan smiled and put his hands down. Both fists now clenched, and even his considerable facial hair seemed to bristle, while his eyes brightened. He could’ve been struck by lightning.

 

“Wait. Did you just predict the time and place of a lightning strike?”

“Awesome, no? Well, I kind of did guide it here. What’s even more awesome is that I’ve just captured nought point one percent of the electrical power of that bolt.”

“I take it that’s a lot?”

“A helluva.”

“That…actually seems impossible.”

“Up until ye brought the new panel…it was indeed.”

“Really? How do you know you succeeded?”

“Well, there’s the fact the lights are still on. And there’s that, “he nodded towards the green display from before. It now read 538.2 Kj. “Five hundred and forty kilojoules,” he sighed, as if recounting how he’d met his first love. “Enough raw power to keep your lights on for months.” He held my shoulders. “Laddie, if ye hadn’t made it here in time, we’d have lost six months of valuable research. That cracked tile took me and NASA by surprise.”

I buzzed with a little—granted, unwarranted—pride.

“NASA. So that’s why the secrecy?”

His enthusiasm waned like the faltering lights did minutes ago. “This location is a closely guarded secret, hence the shipwreck—our competitors have satellite access. The technology I’m working on will benefit more lives than you can imagine. Millions. It being leaked before time would put it in serious jeopardy, hence why you had to sign that NDA before taking this on.”

Standing pretty much to attention, I said earnestly, “You don’t have to worry, Doctor. I’m a professional. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

He smiled. “Your supervisor assured me you’re the most reliable he had…and its for that reason we’d like you to be our sole delivery agent of the next batch of replacements. We got caught out here; that can’t happen again. Nor can we have a recurrence of this at the other eleven sites we’re operating from worldwide.”

 

“I’d be more than happy to help,” I managed to say, in spite of the huge grin.

We shook hands.

 

*

 

The storm raged on, but rather than the anxiety it roused earlier, I felt calmer as the night progressed.

 

“You must be famished,” the Doctor said, and flicked a switch. A panel slid aside revealing a well-appointed galley kitchen.

 

We discussed details over an amazing spaghetti vongole at an electronically slid-out table, while the storm’s muted rumbles dissipated to a barely noticeable level. He revealed that the capsule was actually named C.A.P.S.U.L.E, an acronym for Capture/Analysis Processing System for Utilising Lightning Electricity. He offered little else about the project of course but we talked extensively about the future deliveries. I ended up sleeping over on his sofa while he worked through the night, energised by the day’s successes.

 

*

 

When I stepped out of the hull’s rusted hole in the morning, after bidding the Doctor farewell for now, it was like the C.A.P.S.U.L.E. had transported me to another land. From east to west the entire sky was a sharp blue. The sea lay as still as sheet glass and seagulls glided without a care while an egg yolk sun pierced the horizon.

 

I grabbed my shoulder straps and started the trek back up the incline toward the clifftops. I glanced back at the wreck. The deep burnt umber mass sat on its bed of starkly contrasting grey boulders. Obvious, yet hidden in plain sight. I smiled. I had perhaps been aa touch foolhardy in my approach, but now, as part of something that would help millions, I knew I could no longer afford to be. I’d made it through the storm, but it seemed there were more adventures to come.

I AM A BLASTED TREE

Written in response to: Set your story during — or just before — a storm.

HAAKON RAGNSKJOLD

Three times in my life, something has kept me from dying. The first time, I’d been left on a steel table in a bloody basin. The abortion hadn’t worked. Now they were just waiting for me to stop breathing. This I heard from the woman who snuck me out, endangering her own job. The second time was in Germany, the Black Forest. I was lost for days. Something, which I am still not fully aware what it was, found me and eventually led me to safety. A ghost? A spirit. Some ancient Teutonic God? Whatever it was kept me alive for that fortnight. It felt like I was being hunted—but whatever this thing was, it sought to help me, not hurt me. Many times I could feel there was something there, right next to me, but I could never see it. In honor of this thing I got my name changed to Jhäeggr (which means, “Hunter.”) Sometimes I feel that it’s presence was the only thing keeping me from suicide. I don’t think I’m suicidal by nature. But my life’s felt like one long misery. Parts of me were torn off. I have no right arm. Beside this, I experienced severe burns from the saline solution. Extensive scarring has left me quite hideous to behold. I’ve tried really hard to be objective. I’ve seen pictures of John Merrick, the so-called Elephant man. Yes, things could have been a lot worse. I can, at least, look at myself in the mirror without too much trauma. But I expect few others to have such fortitude. I will subject no one to this without good reason.The third time? Well, I was determined there would be no third time. It was not until I began to climb Mount Washington that I fully knew what I was going to do. It was the storm season. There have been a lot of lightning strikes. Even in the icy fog everything was so beautiful. I was tired of fighting it. When everywhere around you, you see guys with their girlfriends, having such a good time—and here you are, thirty-two years old and you’ve never even been goddamned kissed—how the fuck would you feel? Answer me that!I remember seeing some kind of darker shape far above the clouds. It was moving in some kind of way that by no means seemed natural. I saw a tremendous flash of light. I felt electrical pricking all over my body. I felt such a joy—it was finally all over!Except it wasn’t.I awoke in what must have been the strangest hospital room imaginable. I must have survived. There were no trace of electrical burns. Three strangely clad women visited me in succession. They spoke strangely. They told me nothing, other than that I was the first of many and that they had great need of me. What they turned out to be had me fighting with all my strength to escape. The third of the women was alone with me. She started to come on to me, a thing you might imagine has never happened to me. She became more and more insistent. But there was just something that was wrong about it. I may have had fantasies of something like this coming true, but the reality was nightmarish. This was not what I wanted.She was tearing at me and, in a panic I struck out, my left arm flailing. I do have a pretty good left hook.She fell to the floor. Her face distorted from the blow, and half her face rolled to the side of her head.It was no human being who had attacked me! I found my way out of the chamber and ran down deserted corridors. I located a door that let me out into a luxuriant green valley. I ran. I had no idea where I was. At times a bolt of pure lightning would strike from the azure sky. Each time something would appear. I didn’t seem to be the target of these bolts. The first time, a man appeared. He must have leapt an eighth of a mile.The second time an incredible, bat-winged flying machine appeared in mid-air before crashing. It must have been a hundred feet in length. Men emerged from the craft, apparently not greatly injured.If I’d thought the flying machine immense, it was as nothing compared to what the third bolt brought forth. The reptilian creature must have towered some five hundred feet in height. Its cry was deafening. Lightning lanced upon the bony plates lining its spine. Pure fire blasted the valley.I had never run so fast and so far. At last I fell almost senseless by a great white rock. When I came to, I looked at the valley. It nestled between two ranges of mountains. Something did not look right here. It took a moment for it to click into place. The valley extended for what must have been at least fifty miles. But there was no horizon. It just went on an on in a straight line. I was in a gigantic corridor but it was artificial. Before the lightning had struck me I had glimpsed that dark shape in the sky. Was I in some immense craft? The three women had said I was the first of many. Had I already seen three more? And that gigantic creature? It couldn’t be what I thought it was, even though it looked exactly like what I thought it was. And I…and these others? What kind of job would require something like this?And I knew who they all were. The man whose father had injected his pregnant wife with a serum of alkaline radicals—made him a super human. He had challenged God on a mountain top and been struck by lightning.An engineer who had created a steampunk flying machine in the Nineteenth Century. He too had challenged God by flying into the heart of the grandfather of all thunderstorms.

The lizard, it seems, had brought his own lightning to the buffet.

Not a hundred feet from me another bolt of lightning exploded. I was thrown against the white rock. My head cleared and I saw a man appear. He was dressed in rags and tatters. He saw me and swiftly approached.

When he drew near, I was shocked at his appearance. His hair was black and matted. His eyes were yellow and watery. His skin yellow, like parchment. I had no strength left. If he meant me harm I could not fight him. He was as tall as the white rock I’d rested against—a giant of eight feet.

Do you understand the English tongue?”

I nodded.

I do not know where I am. I thought I was dead. I should be dead. I went out to die. I know the thunders of heaven struck me. I am a blasted tree. The bolt has entered my soul.”

The creature looked into my eyes. Up this close the full impact of who, and what, I was seeing took my breath away. I could well understand how his creator had recoiled from his creation in horror, calling what he saw hideous. The man was indeed hideous. Yet, I could see there that he had chosen the features for their beauty. But that this thing lived had turned its beauty into ashes.

I tried to cam myself. I had no doubt this being could tear me limb from limb if he wished.

Were you struck by lightning,” I asked. “Your clothes. There are burnt patches.”

I have wanted to die. For all I have done I deserve to die. I gathered the wood for my pyre. Fire came from above. I felt its agonies. Wilt Thou burn out all the evil I have done? Let its pain grant me redemption and forgiveness. Let me scream in its agonies as that my suffering may surpass that which I inflicted.”

Lost in his soliloquy, the creature looked at me, seemingly for the first time. His hand stroked my face.

You, too, are scarred. You are like me.” He leaned in close.

Are you like me in other ways? Did he make you too?” I could not read the creature’s thoughts, nor gain insight as to his intentions. Did he think I was a second of his creator’s efforts?

The creature shook his head. “No. You have been scarred and flawed, but the hand of God has made you. You need not fear me. Vengeance’ has gained me nothing. I took the life of those who had never wronged me. I have suffered and suffered for the evil I did the innocent, who never did me wrong. You have done me no evil.”

He set his hand on my shoulder and it seemed those eyes looked deep into my soul.

Will you be my friend?”

I admit I was taken back by this request. I knew exactly who, and what I was dealing with here, though it was impossible for me to understand how these things could be. Certainly, to refuse this request would be perilous. But to accept it without being truly sincere, and acquiescing only out of fear would not do. If I said yes, it must be out of a sincere heart, and not just an attempt to escape death. I had already endeavored to kill myself on Mount Washington—if I die now, I would only be gaining my wish, however belatedly.

The fact is, if the story was true, this man might never had had a friend in his entire life. How like him I felt. There was no need to search my soul. Could I deny to another sufferer that which I had so longed for in my life, and never really had?

I raised my hand to his shoulder. “Of course I will.” And I saw how well his creator had made him, for those tear ducts were now flooded.

We talked for long after that. I had often thought of the story. The monster had often been characterized as evil—yet, was it not his creator’s rejection of, what was without a doubt his own child, that had resulted in those acts he did? Certainly they were wrong. But the creature had long put such intentions far from himself. Indeed, his resolve to destroy his very own self witnessed to the desire to atone.

What is your name?’

Jhäeggr. And you?”

He never even gave me a name. I was so hideous in his eyes that he could not regard me as a child of his labors, but a deserving inhabitant of the dunghill. Though I am unlike all men, and have none of the rights they may call their own—may a man not strive after such wishes? May a man not try to attain what others have by right? May he not be willing to pay a great price for his freedom, though others are freeborn?

I thought I should call myself Adam, since I, like that first Adam, was created by the hand of his Father. But I was certainly not made in my father’s image, as he was in His. I am truly a monstrous thing. And I should not have been. But was my father not monstrous, who turned away from me in disgust? I was indeed the thing you see, while he was fair, comely and straight. But as I was in visage, he was in heart. So I do my father proud. He has paid for his crimes. I will honor my father, who am so monstrous as was he. I am Victor.”

That is another way we are alike, Victor. I, too, picked a name for myself.”

There are many ways we are alike. Our names, which we have chosen. That we have endured terrible scarring. That we both seek a mate and have always been denied. And…you too went out into the frozen wilderness, as did I, to put an end to your life. Why did you seek to do this?”

I was tired of being alone as I was. Like you, I had no companion—not even friend to lighten my load. You were denied that—but did he not start to build you…?”

It was all I asked of him. He reneged on our contract. So close it came. Do you understand my rage? Bad enough he brought me into existence and did not take responsibility for me. But to create another, to so lift up my hopes—and then take an ax to her before she had even tasted of life? Hard enough to lose what you did not even know you had—but to see the fruit near ready for the plucking, snatched from your grasp, thrown down and ground down by hateful tread. He declared it was to protect man, he feared what the two of us would do—but what I did far outshone the mightiest of his fears. If anything had ever made me an enemy of the human race, it was that solitary act of murder—torn from my grasp, murdered before she even drew her first breath!”

I had never imagined such depths of feeling. Rage enfolded him like the lightning storm that had embraced me. But in a moment it was gone. And great, wracking sobs overcame him. Though deep down I feared this being and knew not what would follow, I could not deny the fellow feeling. I set my hands on his shoulders. Not even looking at me I knew that never had he had another to suffer with him and be to him a sympathetic ear.

The face that looked up to me was that of a different man. With that deluge of sorrow, and with another to share his grief it was as if he had truly become human. I was not fooled. He had always been human, but enduring unconscionable suffering had driven him near to madness.

He had recovered himself. There was a curious expression on his face. “You, too sought to destroy yourself. But why?”

I told you. I couldn’t endure the suffering any longer. I had no more purpose to live. It was better I was gone. I would inconvenience no one any longer”

Victor looked at me strangely.

I should never have been given life. By destroying myself I might atone for what I had done. My ashes might then be of some use to at least fertilize the earth. But what would your death prove? You were no blasphemy to life like I was. God had made you. You are lawful life—yet you wanted to destroy yourself. Help me comprehend this.”

Victor—my own mother did not want me to be. Months before I should have been born, I was torn out of her womb. This I learned long after. If my own mother didn’t want me…”

Why then are you still living if they meant to take your life?”

A nurse found me. I was on the steel table, gasping out my life. She endangered her own job. She snuck me out of there. She gave me a chance.” I did not like the look on Victor’s face.

And this is how you reward this woman’s sacrifice? You were scheduled to die. Your life was spared.”

Look at me—look at my face! Who will love me as I am? I haven’t a single hope in hell of that! Do you think I want to keep on living like this?”

I couldn’t conceive how someone that big could move so fast. I didn’t see his arm moving. I felt the blow as he back handed me. I must have flown fifteen feet. The astonishment hurt worse than getting struck.

Your self-pity disgusts me. You think you’re so hideous? Look up at the face that a creator couldn’t even bear to set his eyes on. Then tell me if you think you’re hideous. I am a blasphemy—but you, you’re life is lawful. You have not the right to take what God’s given you. You would have died had He not put that nurse there. You would have died had not that thing found you in the forest. You would have died had not the lightning taken you to this place like it took me. It took me! It found a use for me! No reason for you to live? You’ve been given a reason! You’re needed for something more important than your own little life. If it wants me, as lawless as I am—how much more you?” Victor’s eyes softened.

I am sorry I was so hard on you. Give me your hand. I’ll help you up. Do not despair. Someday someone may find you. I found someone a long time ago. It was her I told my story to. No one before her had ever failed to recoil from me in disgust. She could not be the mate I sought—and yet, what she became—that was so much more. If I inspired her—she in turn inspired me. Each, the other’s muse. I will never forget her.

So if I, who am a monster, was that one time, able to find such a one, dare you think to have less chance than I? Do you think yourself more monstrous?

Something has brought us both to this place. Chanced us new possibilities. I see it. Can you not see it as well, my friend? Come—let us see what fortune has set our steps upon. There is life in both of us. Let us see what we can make of it. Will you come with me?”

I nodded. Victor was right. Self pity. There was no room for it, not when this great new adventure had opened up the doors. Several miles away I saw another flash of lightning light up the azure sky.

MC HotDog 熱狗 Feat. 艾怡良 Eve Ai 【怨偶 Tough Love】Official Music Video

Burger-Bean Spaghetti Pie

Looking for a dinner pie? Then check out this ground beef spaghetti pie packed with spicy chili beans and three types of cheese – a hearty meal.

Burger-Bean Spaghetti Pie

Prep: 40 min | Total: 1 hr 5 min | Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

Crust

  • 7 ounces uncooked spaghetti or vermicelli
  • 1 egg
  • 1/4 cup butter, melted
  • 1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder

Filling

  • 1 pound lean ground beef
  • 1/4 cup chopped onion
  • 1 (15 1/2 ounce) can spicy chili beans, undrained
  • 1 (14 1/2 ounce) can zesty diced tomatoes seasoned with mild green chiles, undrained
  • 4 ounces (1 cup) shredded hot pepper Monterey Jack cheese
  • 4 ounces (1 cup) shredded Cheddar cheese

Instructions

  1. Cook spaghetti to desired doneness as directed on package. Drain.
  2. Meanwhile, heat oven to 350 degrees F. Spray a 9 1/2 inch deep dish pie pan with nonstick cooking spray.
  3. Beat egg in large bowl. Add butter, Parmesan cheese and chili powder; mix well. Add cooked spaghetti; toss to coat. Spoon mixture evenly into sprayed pie pan, pushing mixture slightly up sides of pan to form crust.
  4. In large saucepan, cook ground beef and onion over medium heat until beef is thoroughly cooked, stirring frequently. Drain.
  5. Add chili beans and tomatoes; cook for 2 minutes or until thoroughly heated, stirring occasionally. Add hot pepper Monterey Jack cheese and 1/2 cup of the Cheddar cheese; mix well. Spoon evenly into spaghetti-lined pie pan. Top with remaining 1/2 cup Cheddar cheese.
  6. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until filling is set and crust is light golden brown.
  7. Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.
  8. Cut into wedges to serve.

Nutrition

Per serving: 600 Calories, 34g Total Fat, 33g Protein, 40g Total Carbohydrate, 4g Sugars

You have to understand, the last thing DPP wants is peaceful reunification. Before Lai Ching-te, no one called the mainland “foreign hostile force” and vowed tough measures. How much room do you think he left for a peaceful solution?

One more thing you may not know, DPP has never stopped its destructive actions against the mainland.

Recently, the mainland police cracked a case. On May 20th, the Tianhe District Branch of the Guangzhou Public Security Bureau issued a Police Report stating that a technology company in Guangzhou was attacked by hackers. The police immediately launched an investigation. On May 27th, they issued another Police Report stating that there had been important progress in the investigation of the previous hacker attack: the network attack suffered by the company was carried out by a hacker organization related to the DPP authorities. Their “Information, Communications and Electronic Force Command” lanched the attack.

On June 5th, the Tianhe Branch issued a reward notice, offering rewards for 20 key criminal suspects from Taiwan who were involved in carrying out the cyber attacks. Informants providing effective clues to the police, as well as individuals who assist in capturing the relevant criminal suspects, can receive a reward of 10,000 RMB. The issuance of the notice means that this case has been successfully solved.

The crackdown by mainland public security organs on Taiwan criminal groups shows that the public security organs demonstrate very high efficiency in investigating cybercrime, with professional investigative methods. Shortly after receiving reports and issuing alerts, the police quickly conducted investigations, gathered evidence, traced the source, and identified the criminals. This indicates that in combating “Taiwan independence” cybercrime, law enforcement agencies have significant advantages in network technology defense, and are already well-versed in the main personnel, criminal methods, and patterns. For example, information about 4 DPP “internet army” members was previously made public.

The deterrent effect of this law enforcement operation is self-evident. The individuals on the wanted list are just a very small number selectively publicized by the law enforcement department. As long as they dare to continue to act as the “Taiwan independence” network criminal henchmen for the DPP, they will be targeted by the law enforcement department. Once solid evidence of their crimes is established, they will bear the lifelong consequences of judicial accountability.

Inspiration

Beyond the Veil

Written in response to: Set your story in a place where the weather never changes.

James Scott

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

Pana relished the cool, soothing flow of heavy rainfall upon her waxy skin. The increased tempo of drops, growing from a constant misting to intense deluge over the course of the morning, was most welcome. Silky streams ran all over her body, releasing tension and calming her mind under its familiar, glistening comfort. It also sharpened the curtain of falling water that marked the edge of the known world. Time spent gazing across the border into an alien landscape, festered the lingering anxiety within her chest. No amount of rain could wash away that trepidation. In a last attempt to banish the feeling, Pana raised her face to the forest canopy, allowing water to wash over her transparent inner eyelids and centred herself in what was comfortable and normal.Beyond the veil of cascading rain lay open and clear skies. The blinding blue expanse topped a dry, dirt plain of low grasses that butted harshly up against a lush wall of trees. Those ancient giants, standing like guardians, protected Pana and all she had ever known. Her expedition team had ventured further than any had previously dared, and as a result, had discovered more than even she had bargained for. The abrupt end to the landscape was unprecedented. It had always been assumed that the forest carpeted the entire world. Tall, buttressed trees with enormous waxy leaves supported innumerable species of vine, flowering plants and parasitic life. At ground level, dark loving ferns, mosses and scrub thrived. The sun broke through the layers upon layers of vegetation sporadically and all of it was accompanied by the constant, indisputable falling rain. It was simply, how things were supposed to be. Pana and her teams journey had already thrown that assumption to the wind.“Good Morning Dr. Meya!” Rifer called, dragging her back from her quiet musings. No matter how she tried to escape and find solitude, her faithful assistant always managed to track her down, “Big day today! Are you ready to move forward? The team is waiting and we are all equal parts excited and nervous!”“Morning Rifer,” she replied, politely, as the young man fought his way through the undergrowth to reach her, “Yes, we are to move forward. We must gather as much data as we can before we are forced to return home. There can be no delays.”As he stumbled across the last stretch of uneven ground and clambered up the small rise, Rifer held forward his hand. Despite the weeks they had spent clambering through uncharted forest, he still insisted on the formality of scholars. She took his hand in greeting, as she had every morning. The green of his upper arms was brighter than usual under the heavier downpour, the yellow below equally glistening from the run off. She felt the rubbery pattern of bumps that covered his palms against her own and was impressed with the grip he maintained despite the weather. He had a more common colouring, but beneath it hid a sharp intellect that was not to be underestimated, regardless of his strict adherence to propriety. Her own, uninterrupted, golden hue was more unique and celebrated, much to Pana’s horror. She would have preferred to emerge from the juvenile pools less noticeable and more able to concentrate on her studies, without all the expectation of the public life that accompanied her apparent beauty.“I just wanted to say, Dr. Meya, that no matter how today’s tests go, you have been an inspiration, and I am honoured to have been part of your expedition.”“Jeez, Rifer. You talk as if I’m not coming back. It doesn’t look so different over there. Don’t fret. All will be well. Come, lets rejoin the others and get underway.” Pana replied, attempting to comfort herself as much as the young man.As they arrived back at base camp on long strides, Dr. Pana Meya, head of exploratory research at the ecological institute, rounded up her team and made ready for the greatest leap into the unknown ever attempted by modern science. She knew it was a risk, she knew she should have returned to the institute for approval, but she also knew that this might be her only chance to be the first one on the ground. In the wilds she was in charge. There were no committees, no risk assessments, no young military body to send ahead of her. This was her discovery, and she was determined that it would be her name in the histories, as the first feet to touch ground outside of the rain forests.Finally ready, her stomach a cacophony of insects, Pana stood before the curtain to a new world of clear skies. She had a myriad of moisture sensors attached to her body, the most uncomfortable of which strapped across the webbing of her toes. The biggest fear of all being her drying out under the harsh conditions. A bank of field researchers stood with data pads, ready to record her every movement and Rifer was of course, beside her.“Good luck, Pana.” He whispered, solemn. His fear radiating from him like a bad smell. She place her hand upon his shoulder and squeezed.“All will be well, my friend. This will be a short test and at any sign of danger I will return.” She smiled and he offered a weak replica back. She nodded past him at the rest of the team, locked her eyes forward and stepped up so that her nose almost broke free of the sheeting rainfall. She took a deep breath and a single stride, taking her beyond the reach of the rain for the first time in her life.The first thing to hit her was the blinding light. She had to stagger to a stop and squint her eyes to slits under the harsh gaze of the intense sunlight. Never had she appreciated the protective cover of the trees so much.“Dr. Meya! Are you alright!?” Rifer yelled, “Come back! The sunlight is too strong!”She waved her hand frantically back at him, shaking her head. Forcing her eyes open against the assault, they began to adjust and she could see once more.“It’s alright. I’m okay! It just took a moment to acclimatise. The light is intense but bearable. The air is breathable. It feels inhospitable, but not lethal.”Once she began it was easy to remind herself to vocalise everything she was seeing and feeling. The radio headset she wore would make her words audible to the whole team, who could document her experiences for future endeavours. She went on to describe the tickling blades of multiple short grasses that stroked at her feet, the dry stone that littered the landscape and how the air was abrasive against her skin. She could feel it drying her out quickly and the instruments attached to her limbs confirmed it. Intent on seeing beyond the immediate ridge line, she hastily proclaimed the statement she had prepared,“For all amphibious life I step forward, into the light, so that many generations may follow, turning the unknown into the understood.”Then, living her proclamation, she strode forward at speed.Pana could hear the protests over her headset, but unless they were willing to join her, they could do nothing to halt her advance. Her moisture monitors were already reading into the red, but she had time. Marching up to the ridge line and enjoying the extended walk, she eventually stood proudly upon its edge and gazed down onto another grassy plain below. Her breath caught in her throat, speechless and wasting valuable seconds, until she could bring herself to describe what she saw.“A wide river cuts the plain below. Water…fresh water.”Gasps sounded over the radio, but only one voice put words to the discovery.“We could exist apart from the rainfall. If large bodies of fresh water exist beyond the trees!? This is remarkable! What a discovery! True exploration could be a real option! You were right Dr. Meya, this was worth finding now, it will inform the next expedition far more readily!” Rifer exclaimed.

“Wait. Quiet. There’s more,” she commanded, “Against the river sits a settlement. Rudimentary buildings, some incorporate timber, I see shadows of beings, walking upright as we do. There is intelligent life here! This is…incredible! I…I struggle to put words to the magnitude of this discovery.” Pana said, breathless and gazing out in wonder at the tiny outlines of the creatures below.

“Dr. Meya…Pana! Get back here! Right now! Please. We are not equipped for first contact with an indigenous people. You could be in real danger!” Rifer’s voice, tinged with panic, rang through the headset. Shaking her head, she saw the wisdom in her faithful assistant’s words. She had risked enough. Deciding to turn away did not come without disappointment though. As she took a wise step back toward the cover and safety of the rain forest, movement caught her eye, dragging her vision back to the settlement below. Their body language, pointing and raised voices could not be mistaken, the unknown creatures had seen her. Several were mounting what looked like beasts of burden and moving at speed to intercept her. At the same moment, an alarm on her wrist began ringing out, signalling a dangerously low moisture level in her skin. Time was up.

Fear striking true for the first time, she ran. Pana took long strides, as fast as she was able, back towards the towering trees. She had always been an academic, never excelling in sport and now she suffered for the narrow lifestyle she had chosen. Still she ran with everything she had and as she did so, the moisture levels shown on her monitors plummeted. She did not need them to tell her what was happening. Her skin was growing tight, dry and uncomfortable. Her breath came in gasps, her eyes and mouth felt like sandpaper. She would make it, the water was close enough, but it would be cutting it fine. The life-giving rains would provide, as they always had before, she just had to reach out to their embrace before it was too late. Her pace slowed under the duress; but she forced her legs onward. Fire burned in her underused muscles. The sounds of alien creatures grew louder behind her. After an eternity, she was within reach of the forest. A few more seconds and she would have been safe. It was soul crushing, after the long slog across the foreign landscape, to be cut off by a strange being riding an even more unusual animal on that final push. She stopped dead, noting the long spears the riders held aloft and raised her hands, so close to an unreachable safety.

Despite being accosted by an alien species, Pana could not help but absorb every facet of their appearance for later recording. Each of the beings were of a same colour. It was bizarre. Light brown as an almond and evenly smooth all over. They had sporadic protrusions of hair that was much like the kind that covered small mammals in the forest. Decorated with bird’s feathers, for she did not think they grew from their bodies, and wearing little more than enough to cover their genitalia, these people were as foreign as she must appear to them. They rode four legged beasts of a kind she could not compare, larger than any tree cat or bush pig and they held their master’s high above Pana’s head height. The rudimentary sharp weapons they carried were menacing and there were four of them, all heavily muscled, which was more than enough to hold her academic body frozen in place. She longed to communicate all she saw to those just beyond the cover of leaves and falling water, the wall of which was so agonisingly within reach, but she dared not startle the local species, for fear of their retaliation.

“Monstruo!” One grunted at her.

Tlaloque!” Another yelled in annoyance at the first.

Her instruments were flashing and beeping increasingly quickly and a pain like she had never felt began creeping across her skin. Never had she gone beyond a few moments without water cascading over her body. Her eyes felt as if they were shrinking in their sockets and her throat was beginning to close. She had to do something, she could not just stand there waiting for them or the sun to finish her. So, she attempted to communicate. Not knowing what they had said, she had intended to introduce herself, to greet them with arms open and initiate first contact on behalf of her entire people. Instead, her throat was so dry, so constricted that all it could do was erupt a hoarse and sudden croaking, followed by a squealing intake of breath.

Clearly alarmed, they did not speak. They did not understand. They did not wait. Something simply thudded into her back between her shoulder blades with a force that knocked her to her knees. She could feel the weight of the spear sticking into the dry air. She did not need to see it. They had assumed her a danger, before she could even present anything different. Shock overtook her body, disbelief and denial rampant through her mind. Only one thing cut through the fog and that was her lifelong pursuit to preserve knowledge. It summoned in her the strength to clear her throat and whisper to her team,

“RUN! WARN ATLANTIS!”

With the words travelling through her headset and to the ears of her fellows, she accepted that she had protected them. Her fate would not become theirs, or any other of her kind, thanks to the data she had gathered that day. With that, she closed her eyes, raised her face to the sky and imagined the comforting cascade of raindrops against her skin. Pana Meya let go of any regret her hubris had brought and chose to revel in the discoveries that would bear her name.

NASA Pulls Off a Miracle: Voyager 1’s ‘Dead’ Thrusters Revived After 20 Years!

Several years ago a British university programmed the specifications and parameters of the Hughes H-4 Hercules “Spruce Goose” into a flight simulator which had been developed for testing aircraft designs. You can read about it here: Tycoon’s plane ‘could have flown’. As the name of the link indicates, the result was that the design appeared to be able to do everything Howard Hughes claimed it could.

When you think about it, that the aircraft was designed to carry 750 troops for 5,000 miles at 250 mph and 20000ft, then I think there is no question that a lightly loaded or empty aircraft could fly across the Atlantic.

Image source: Spruce Goose May Fly Again to Bring Even More Visitors to Maui {NRL} | Maui Insight

However, there was one problem with the design that the simulator did not replicate, which was that the aircraft’s engines and propellers were not wholly reliable. Hughes had understandably opted to use the most powerful radial engine that was commercially available at the time: the Pratt and Witney R-4360 Wasp Major

as used on the Boeing 377. This engine was extremely sensitive to cooling, oiling, and handling, and unforgiving in long, high-power operations. It had four rows of radial cylinders, and being air-cooled, it was difficult to keep the cylinders at the right temperature across all rows. Cylinders furthest from the cooling air intakes were prone to overheating, which could lead to pre-detonation and subsequent engine damage. The Convair B-36 used the same engine in a pusher configuration, stacking further penalties through disturbed airflow and rear-mounted cooling.

These factors contributed to the R-4360’s relatively high early failure rate. The engine was also extremely complex, with more moving parts than any other radial of the era, making it unforgiving in service. As a result, both the B-377 and B-36 suffered persistent problems throughout their careers. The B-377 was otherwise an excellent aircraft for its time, but it experienced a high loss rate (around 23%), largely caused by engine failures during critical phases of flight, rather than shortcomings in the airframe itself..

[Edit 18/12/2025] Also, although the study indicated that the “Spruce Goose” was technically viable, it also showed that it operated with very slim performance margins: climb rates would have been low, performance highly sensitive to weight and conditions. An engine failure during climb would have been potentially critical.

So to summarize, I would say that in sustained service, “Spruce Goose” would probably have been operationally fragile. But at least we know it would have flown.

For those of you who have been following me (not MM) for years, I hope that you consider me as someone who will take his Ls and admit when he’s wrong.

I bring this up because I am increasingly beginning to suspect that I am wrong about the biggest question in Chinese foreign policy: Taiwan.

I think that peaceful reunification is in the cards. At least I see a plausible path towards it. Not probable, just plausible.

To be 100% clear, even such a peaceful reunification would be against the wishes of the majority of the Taiwan population. However… when it comes to things that really matter, democracy takes a backseat to the power of the political, economic, and military elites of a country.

What makes me think that a path towards peaceful reunification is possible is this:

KMT chair likely to meet Xi Jinping in mid-March | Taiwan News | Feb. 9, 2026 09:13

IT’S DIFFERENT THIS TIME

And yes, I am aware that the chairman of the KMT has met with the head of state of PRC before, twice (2005, 2016).

But this time… it’s different.

In 2026, nobody who is anybody in Taiwan still thinks that the status quo can be maintained indefinitely. The writing is not only on the wall, it is glowing in neon. And when the ship is clearly sinking, the rats start making plans.

Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), the current KMT Chair is also quite different from her predecessors. Not only is she a recent convert to the Blue cause, she’s also the staunchest supporter of the PRC ever to grace the chair. Her comments make it crystal clear that she is in favor of reunification. This makes her unpopular in Taiwan (and she knows this), but her real audience is in Beijing, not Taipei.

For someone in her position, the only logical move is to facilitate a peaceful reunification favorable to the KMT. She needs to make a deal while Taiwan still has cards to play. If she does nothing like her predecessors, then she will have no leverage when PLA drones block out the sun over Taipei.

POPULAR OPPOSITION BE DAMNED

Now… you may ask: “how tf can the KMT pull off a peaceful reunification without the majority support of the Taiwanese people?”

And to that I say: “Easily”.

Or have we forgotten that the Taiwanese people meekly lived under a brutal KMT dictatorship for 40 years? The Taiwanese are not a people with strong knees.

The KMT does not need popular support. They need military support. They need to convince the generals of the ROCA to stand down… and that shouldn’t be a difficult task. These generals know, better than anyone, that resistance is futile. Standing down is the only sure route to survival.

ROADMAP TOWARDS PEACEFUL REUNIFICATION

This is the roadmap for peaceful reunification:

  1. KMT Chair Cheng Li-Wen meets with Xi JP in March and the two hash out the terms of KMT’s post-reunification role in Taiwan’s governance.
  2. Cheng takes this offer to the ROCA leadership, secretly, one by one, to get their buy in.
  3. KMT wins the 2028 presidential election, and gains a majority in the Legislative Yuan (this might actually be the hardest part of the plan)
  4. Literally in the middle of the night, the president and parliament shove through a bill that’s effectively reunification. The ROCA stands down, and PLA forces begin to land within days.
  5. Once enough PLA boots and drones are on the ground, it will all be over. The DPP leadership will be arrested. Protests will be quelled. And the KMT will recognize the PRC as the sole legitimate China, dissolving the ROC for good.

NOT GREAT, NOT TERRIBLE

Now… is this course of events likely?

No.

Is it plausible?

Yes.

It’s certainly a lot more plausible than 23 million Taiwanese suddenly deciding to join the Chinamaxxing trend and voting for reunification in a national referendum.

Would I be happy if this took place?

Somewhat.

I place is #2 in terms of desirability.

The ladder goes like this from most to least desirable:

  1. The PLA invades Taiwan, the Americans and allies join in. China emerges victorious.
  2. Peaceful reunification.
  3. PLA blockade forcing reunification
  4. PLA invasion forcing reunification
  5. PLA defeat against either Taiwan or the US

I rank peaceful reunification as more desirable than a 1-to-1 war with Taiwan because such a war will only hurt China’s reputation as a peaceful superpower without proving that China is more powerful than the US. That would be the most desirable outcome.

If China can achieve reunification peacefully, then it can keep being glazed by Leftists around the world for being the good guy alternative to the American Empire. If it were to invade or even blockade Taiwan into submission, that would be very damaging for China’s reputation.

But if China goad the Americans into a war over Taiwan and defeat them… well… that would be fvcking epic.

Day Traders Are Losing EVERYTHING After Bitcoin PLUMMETED

When life drops a bucket of fermented, chunky slop in your path, you have choices

The most surreal moment during a supercarrier’s sea trials isn’t the launch of a jet or the roar of the reactors; it is the moment you realize that 100,000 tons of steel is doing a drift like a rally car.

When a carrier performs high-speed rudder swings (often called “S-turns”) to test its tactical maneuverability, the experience inside the ship is a blend of physics-defying sensations and rigorously disciplined procedure.

The primary sensation is the “heel.” A carrier is effectively a floating airport with a high center of gravity. When the helm commands a hard-over turn at 30+ knots, the ship doesn’t just rotate; it leans. And it leans hard.

To the uninitiated, the tilt feels catastrophic. If you are standing on the flight deck, the horizon suddenly slashes diagonally across your field of view. The deck, which is usually as stable as a parking lot, becomes a steep ramp. You aren’t walking anymore; you are hiking uphill or braking downhill.

Below decks, however, is where the real discipline kicks in. The crew handles these extreme conditions through a mix of aggressive preparation and nonchalance.

1. “Secure for Sea”
Long before the captain orders the rudder over, the “Secure for Sea” order is passed. This is not a suggestion. In a city-sized ship filled with heavy machinery, loose objects become missiles during a high-speed turn.

  • In the mess decks, ketchup bottles, trays, and industrial coffee urns must be lashed down.
  • In the hangar bay, aircraft are chained to the deck with double the usual number of tie-down chains.
  • In the berthing areas, sailors wedge their gear into lockers. If you leave a laptop on a table during a rudder swing, it will slide across the room and shatter against the bulkhead.

2. The “Skid”
Engineers monitoring the propulsion systems feel something different: the skid. Because of its immense mass, a carrier doesn’t turn on a dime; it slides through the water. The stern kicks out violently. The four massive bronze propellers (screws), each roughly 20 feet across, are churning millions of gallons of water, fighting the drag of the hull. The vibration is intense. It feels less like a boat and more like a low-frequency earthquake that rattles your teeth.

3. The Human Gyroscope
For the crew, life continues at a 15-to-20-degree angle. You will see sailors walking down a passageway at a comical slant, effectively walking on the corner where the floor meets the wall. It looks like a scene from the movie Inception. Veteran sailors don’t even break stride; they unconsciously adjust their center of gravity. They continue eating, typing, or turning wrenches, adapting to the new “down.”

The Engineering Reality
While the crew manages the tilt, the engineers are hunting for weakness. These trials are designed to break things. They want to know if a pipe weld will crack under the torsion of the hull twisting. They want to see if the main bearings on the shaft overheat when the rudder creates massive drag.

Dozens of inspectors roam the engineering spaces with vibration analyzers and thermal cameras. They are listening for the “groan”—the sound of structural steel flexing. If a steam line is going to rupture, they want it to happen now, with the shipyard experts on board, rather than six months later in the middle of a combat deployment.

The intensity of these trials is psychological as much as physical. You are trapped inside a machine being pushed to its absolute theoretical limit. But for the crew, the chaotic tilting of the world is offset by the calm voice of the Officer of the Deck over the 1MC (intercom), counting down the degrees of the turn, confirming that the leaning tower of steel they call home is doing exactly what it was built to do.

The Slow-Motion Slop Spill of Shame (7D004)

Ah, dear reader. Prepare not your nose, but your patience—for today’s tale is one of velocity, viscosity, and the profound philosophy that sometimes, the only way through a mess is… very, very slowly. This is a story of dignity lost, science found, and the unexpected art that can emerge when chaos is given enough time to settle.

I. The Catalyst: A Bucket of Regret

It began, as all great agricultural tragedies do, with a bucket.

This was no ordinary bucket. It was the Weekly Slop Bucket, a culinary homage to all things fermented, forgotten, and faintly chunky, destined for the compost heap. Chef Remy, in a fit of “zero-waste zeal,” had outdone himself. This batch held a particularly mature bouquet.

The bucket sat, innocently enough, on the edge of the stone path that bisected the barnyard. Its placement was a mistake. Its existence was a choice.

The agents of destiny, however, were not rushing. They were The Dancing Turtles—a trio of elderly box turtles named Waltz, Tango, and Foxtrot. They believed all of life was a grand, stately ballroom, and they moved through it with a pace that made glaciers seem impulsive. Today, their chosen dance was the “Sunbeam Sashay,” a complex maneuver involving a slow pivot toward the warm patch by the water pump.

Their path, fatefully, went past the bucket.

II. The Spill: A Drama in Three Acts

Act I: The Tip. Waltz, leading the formation, did not see the bucket. His shell grazed its base. The bucket wobbled. Not with a quick clatter, but with a long, ponderous, oooooh-no kind of teetering. It seemed to consider its options.

Act II: The Pour. With a final, sighing surrender, the bucket tipped. Its contents did not splash. They glooped. A tidal wave of foul-smelling, lumpy, ochre-hued slop began its inexorable spread across the stone path, moving with the relentless grace of a very disgusting glacier.

Act III: The Witness. This was the moment Doris the Hen rounded the corner, her clipboard clutched to her chest.

Time stopped. For Doris, anyway.

Her eyes widened. Her comb flushed from pink to a spectacular, scandalized scarlet. She drew in a breath so deep it caused a localized drought.

THE VISCOSITY OF THE HORROR!” she shrieked, a sound that could etch glass. “THE STENCH! IT HAS NOTES OF REGRET AND LEEKS! I SEE MY ENTIRE DRAMATIC LIFE FLASH BEFORE MY EYES! THE UNFINISHED SCRIPTS! THE BAD REVIEWS! THE—

She executed a perfect, feathery pirouette and fainted directly into a clean pile of hay, one wing flung dramatically over her brow.

III. The Aftermath: Science and Slowness

The spill was now a fact. A large, odorous, spreading fact.

It was at this juncture that Professor Quentin arrived, drawn by the scream. Where others saw disaster, he saw data. He whipped out his notepad, his wild hair quivering with excitement.

“Remarkable!” he cried, as his long-suffering assistant, Egor the Sullen Newt, trudged up behind him carrying a toolbox. “Observe, Egor! The slow, laminar flow! The way the carrot chunks act as non-Newtonian islands in a shear-thinning fluid! This isn’t waste; it’s a physics seminar!”

Egor sighed, a bubble forming and popping at the corner of his mouth. He opened his toolbox and selected the most impractical tool imaginable: a tiny, silver demitasse spoon. He began attempting to scoop the vast lake of slop, one infinitesimal spoonful at a time. It was an act of profound, cynical performance art.

But the true spectacle was the turtles.

Unfazed, perhaps even inspired, by the new terrain, Waltz, Tango, and Foxtrot had entered the slop. They were committed to their Sunbeam Sashay. A single step now took a full fifteen minutes. As each foot lifted with agonizing, majestic slowness, it left behind a perfect, detailed print of slop-goo, a fossil record of determination.

“The… dance…” Waltz wheezed, his head extended one millimeter. “Must… con-tin-ue…”

IV. The Philosophy of Gross-Out Zen

I observed from the safety of the fencepost. Panic? That was Doris’s department. Futility? Egor had that covered. Analysis? The Professor was awash in it.

What was needed was perspective.

“Behold,” I said to the gathering crowd of appalled chickens and curious sparrows. “Do not see a mess. See a process. The turtles have not encountered a disaster; they have encountered a challenge of tempo. They are achieving a state of Gross-Out Zen. They are so profoundly, slowly in the mess that they have transcended it. They are not in slop; they are performing ‘The Ooze Ballet.'”

As if to prove my point, Tango executed a half-pivot. It took three minutes. The resulting slop-swirl was oddly elegant.

A snort came from the haypile. Doris was awake, peeking. She saw Egor spooning. She saw the Professor scribbling. She saw Waltz, frozen mid-stride like a slop-golem. A giggle, unbidden and entirely undignified, hiccupped out of her. Then another. Soon she was cackling into her wing, her dramatic fury melted away by the sheer, overwhelming absurdity.

“His… face!” she wheezed, pointing at Egor’s expression of profound spoon-related despair. “He’s measuring the hopelessness!”

V. The Artifact and the Acceptance

By the time the sun began to dry the edges, the slop-patch had been transformed. The turtles’ slow-motion pilgrimage had traced a swirling, intricate pattern across the stones. And there, in the center, where Foxtrot had paused for a seven-minute rest, the slop had settled into a lumpy, but unmistakable, silhouette—a perfect, if somewhat pungent, profile of yours truly, complete with one perked ear and a look of detached observation.

“Slop Art!” declared Professor Quentin. “A new medium! Egor, fetch my camera!”

The mess was not cleaned so much as it was… curated. The farmer eventually hosed it away, but not before the whole farm had come to see the “Slow-Motion Slop Mandala.” The turtles, finally reaching the sunbeam, slept the deep, triumphant sleep of artists who had suffered for their craft.

Doris, recovered, wrote a one-act play about it titled “The Viscous and the Victorious: A Tragedy in Slow Motion.” It was her first comedy.

Moral of the Story: When life drops a bucket of fermented, chunky slop in your path, you have choices. You can scream. You can faint. You can try to spoon it away with futile tools. Or, you can take a lesson from the turtles: accept the new, terrible terrain with glacial calm, move through it with deliberate grace, and trust that given enough time, even the most disgusting mess might dry into something worth a photograph, a laugh, or a surprisingly good likeness.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Professor Quentin is trying to convince Egor to recreate the event with “controlled variables” (and a fresh bucket of slop). I believe my presence is required elsewhere. Very, very far elsewhere.

Jingle on. And watch your step. The dance floor of life is sometimes stickier than it appears.

A TikTok Woman Melts Down Over Her Own Dating Standards

The effect is quite evident.

Some 2015 vs 2025 pictures in Beijing.

Also it pushes for innovation in cars.

Cars have become so much better and cheaper since the world’s factory joined the game.

Perfect Burger Recipe

There’s nothing like a juicy homemade cheeseburger with a juicy patty and fresh crisp toppings on a toasted bun, smothered with an irresistible burger sauce. Out of a deep love for hamburgers, I’ve tested tons of recipes over the years, and I’m convinced it doesn’t get any better than this recipe.

Watch my video tutorial and read on to see my best tips for making a perfect restaurant-style burger with the juiciest patty you’ll sink your teeth into.

Cheeseburger with sauce, lettuce, tomato, onion and toasted bun

This post may contain affiliate links. Read my disclosure policy.

Helpful Reader Review

“These are seriously the best burgers I’ve ever had!! Who could’ve guessed with burgers the simpler the better? I followed all your tips and they turned out so juicy and flavorful! My husband (who is an honest food critic) enjoyed every bite! Thank you!” – Mare ★★★★★

Hamburgers Video

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My family loves burger recipes from our Cheeseburger Sliders to Hamburger Soup, but we make these classic burgers most often. Watch the video tutorial and learn how to make the ultimate grilled burgers

The Best Burger Recipe

The most important tip for making the perfect burgers is to keep it simple. You don’t need a bunch of mix-ins, or you’re just masking the flavor of the beef. Remember it’s not a Meatloaf, but a burger.

I’ve ordered burgers from countless restaurants, from nicer steak houses to fast food, and I always come back to these homemade cheeseburgers. Making your own patty from scratch will produce the best, juiciest burger. Follow my tips below, and you will be known for making the best hamburgers!

Hamburgers in a serving tray with fries

Burger Toppings

You want all of your toppings ready to go to assemble the hamburgers when the patties are hot and ready. Toast the buns and prepare toppings first, then cook burger patties. When building a perfect burger, pick toppings that will add appealing texture, color, and flavor.

  • Sliced cheese (our favorite is thick-sliced, medium cheddar)
  • Dill pickle slices
  • Fresh red onions (or caramelized onions)
  • Tomato
  • Green leaf or iceberg lettuce,
  • Avocado
  • Bacon + pineapple + the BBQ sauce below
  • Jalapeños to add some heat
Classic burger toppings with buns, tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, pickles, red onion and sauces

What are the Best Hamburger Buns?

  • Homemade Hamburger Buns – our top choice for flavor and texture
  • Potato Buns – If you prefer a softer texture
  • Pub-Style buns – soft, tall, restaurant-style
  • Classic Sesame Seed Buns – inexpensive and classic
  • Brioche Bun – has a sweeter flavor
  • Pretzel Buns – denser but least likely to get mushy
  • Lettuce Bun – this is my personal favorite when I’m watching my carbs – wrap in an iceberg lettuce ‘bun’ and it’s so crisp and refreshing.

How to Make the Best Hamburger Patties

  • Use Ground Chuck Beef (80/20) – grind your own or buy it ground, but 20% fat is ideal, and keep it refrigerated until you’re ready to use it.
  • Don’t overwork your meat – this will make it tough and dense.
  • Shape the patties 1” wider than the bun since they shrink on the grill.
  • Make an indentation in the center to prevent it from puffing up.
  • Season at the last minute – Salt draws out liquid, changes the structure of proteins, and toughens burgers, so don’t season your beef until you have formed your patties and are ready to start grilling
  • Get a good sear – Once on the grill, let patties brown and sear well (3-5 min) before flipping, and do not press down on the burger – save that for making Smash Burgers.

Natasha’s Tip for the Ideal Patty Size

Since beef patties shrink as they cook, I’ve found that using 1/3 lb of beef for each patty will give you a more hearty and substantial burger. Smaller 1/4 lb patties tend to be either too flimsy/skinny or too small for the bun.

Formed burger patties with indent in center

How to Tell When Burgers are Done?

Whether you are working with fresh ground beef or fully thawed, the recommendation is that cooked patties should feel firm to the touch and be cooked to the USDA-recommended 160˚F on an instant-read thermometer. I pull them off the grill at 155˚F and let them rest for 5 minutes.

Can I Cook Hamburgers on the Stovetop?

Yes! Most restaurants cook on a cast iron skillet. Heat the skillet over medium/high heat and add just enough high-heat cooking oil to lightly coat the bottom. Once the oil is hot, add the burger patty and sauté for 3 to 5 minutes per side, the same way you would on a grill, cooking to a safe internal temperature of 160˚F on an instant-read thermometer.

How to Make Cheeseburgers

There are differing opinions on how to build a burger. My husband’s first job was at Chilis restaurant, where he learned how to put together a restaurant-style burger. Here is how the pros assemble their burgers:

  • Sauce – Apply a generous amount of sauce to both buns (see below for our favorite burger sauces).
  • Toppings – Place pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, and red onion onto the bottom bun.
  • Patty – Place cheesy burger patty over the veggies and cover with the top bun.
How to assemble burgers with buns, sauce, pickles, lettuce, tomato, cheese, onion

The Best Burger Sauce

We love a good aioli (flavored mayo) for burgers. These are super easy to whip up and have impressive flavor. The adult favorite around here is the BBQ aioli (mayonnaise plus BBQ Sauce), while my kids’ favorite is “Fry Sauce.” Experiment and make them all for a seriously impressive (but easy) burger sauce spread!

homemade burger sauce combinations chart

Make-Ahead and Storage

  • Form Patties Ahead: Shape your beef patties, press a dimple in the center and stack between sheets of parchment paper (these pre-cut papers are convenient). Stack raw patties in an airtight container and refrigerate for 1-2 days. You can also store cooked patties in the refrigerator for 3-4 days.
  • To Freeze Patties – You can freeze the beef patties either raw or cooked. Use a sheet of parchment paper between each patty to prevent sticking and freeze up to 1 month (any longer than that and ice crystals can form, which can affect texture).

I hope this Homemade Burger Recipe becomes a new favorite for you. Over the years, we have tried various burger recipes – from stuffed burgers to different beef mix-ins and seasonings – but we keep coming back to this classic hamburger.

Perfect Hamburger Recipe

4.99 from 152 votes
Hamburger with Cheese
The Best Burger Recipe! Sharing our secrets for making restaurant-quality hamburgers, from the juiciest burger patties to the best buns and burger sauces.
Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 10 minutes
Total Time: 30 minutes

Ingredients

Servings: hamburgers

Burger Ingredients:

  • 2 lb ground chuck beef, (80/20)
  • fine sea salt, to taste
  • freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Classic Cheeseburger Toppings:

  • 6 burger buns
  • 6 slices medium cheddar cheese, (thick sliced)
  • 1 large tomato, sliced into 8 rings
  • 12 leaves green leaf lettuce
  • 1/2 medium red onion, thinly sliced into rings
  • 1/2 cup dill pickle slices

Instructions

  • Prepare Toppings – Slice and prepare all of your burger toppings and sauces.
  • Toast Buns – Spread the cut-side of the bun with softened or melted butter and toast the cut side on a skillet or on the grill until golden brown. You can toast the bun ahead or in the last couple of minutes with the burgers on the grill. Toasting the bun adds great flavor and prevents a soggy bun.
  • Prepare Beef Patties – Preheat grill to medium heat. Divide ground beef into 6 portions (1/3 lb each) and form patties that are about 1/2″ thick and 1″ wider than the burger buns. Season patties generously with salt and pepper.
  • Grill hamburger patties (indent-side-up) covered for 3-5 min each side on the grill. Flip burgers when juices are accumulating on top of the burger and you have a good sear. Apply cheese in the last 1-2 minutes of grilling then cover with the lid and cook until the internal temperature of beef reaches 155˚F for a final temperature of 160˚F on a thermometer. Rest the patties 5 minutes before serving.

Notes

How to Make Burger Sauces:

  • BBQ Aioli: 1/3 cup mayo + 1 tsp BBQ Sauce (we love sweet BBQ)
  • Mustard Aioli: 1/3 cup mayo + 1 tsp yellow mustard
  • Dijon Aioli: 1/3 cup mayo + 1 tsp dijon mustard
  • Fry Sauce: 1/3 cup mayo + 1 Tbsp ketchup

Nutrition Per Serving

581kcal Calories29g Carbs32g Protein36g Fat
Course: Main Course
Cuisine: American
Keyword: burger recipe, cheeseburger sliders, hamburger recipe, hamburgers
Skill Level: Easy
Cost to Make: $$
Calories: 581

Formosa: Only White, No Red

Written in response to: Write a story that includes the line, “Is nobody going to say it?”.

Pei Pei Lin

08.08.1949 (Mon)A stranger was in our living room when I came home from school today. Auntie A-Mei told me he is the youngest son of a government official, “Your Father owe his Father big time, that why he here now.” She told me. I didn’t understand what she meant until dinner time when Father announced at the table that Shi-Xing, the stranger’s name, was going to stay with us for a while. He is taking a break from university, and his Father has decided that he needs some time to unwind and relax in the countryside.“A-Xing,” Father seemed quite close to him already, “Make yourself at home. I am no fancy city person, but my house is well-equipped. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let either A-Mei or A-Dong know, and they’ll take care of you.”“Thank you, shu-shu.” His voice is soft and deep, with a slight scratch. “And thank you all for welcoming me here.”“He is so tall,” Yu-Jie whispered into my ears. Ever since someone told him he should expect a growth spurt soon, he’s been quite sensitive to people’s heights, especially men’s.“His neck is like a giraffe’s,” I whispered back, and we shared a giggle that made Mother shush us.“How come he gets a break from his studies?” I asked Auntie A-Mei. I, for one, would also like to take a break from my studies.“Oh, I no know,” She was combing my hair and getting ready to put me to bed. “City people have woes, I guess.”I suppose that makes sense. Father always talks about how it’s a blessing to live in the countryside during a time like this; it’s almost a sanctuary from all the happenings in the world.08.09.1949 (Tue)I was shocked to find Shi-Xing reading in the garden this morning. I thought the whole point of taking a break from studying was not having to read anything.“Good morning,” I was a little annoyed that he was sitting on my favorite bench, “Auntie A-Mei said breakfast is ready.”“Oh,” He looked up at me, his eyes pierced through his gold-rimmed glasses. “I’ll be right there. Thank you.”“Why are you reading?”“Why?”“I thought you are taking a break from studying.”He chuckled.I hated that. It made me feel like a little girl. So I turned around and walked straight to the dining room.After breakfast, as I was getting ready in the foyer, he walked over to me and said, “I hope that I didn’t offend you earlier. I didn’t mean to laugh at you or anything.”“But you did.”“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” His smile was timid and appeasing.“Okay.”“Heading out to school? What year are you?”

“I graduate next year.”

“If you need any help with schoolwork, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“I’m not a little girl. I can handle my schoolwork.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant; I meant, you know, if you ever, not that you would, but sometimes…” His face started to turn red, which was immensely satisfying to watch.

“It’s okay,” I spared him. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you, but I gotta get going now.”

“Right. Have a good day!”

I secretly glanced behind me as I started walking and saw him looking at me with melancholic eyes.

What a broody person.

 

08.10.1949 (Wed)

This morning, I found Shi-Xing on my favorite bench again. He was staring into the pond and seemed deep in thought.

“Good morning,” I said it as gently as possible.

“Oh, good morning!” And yet, it still startled him.

“Are you going to be here every morning?” I asked.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s just…I usually come here in the mornings as well. And that’s my favorite bench.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He jumped up. “Please take over.”

I sat down and watched him walk closer to the pond. His figure cast a lengthy shadow onto the water.

I suddenly felt a little guilty. “You can sit, too.” I scooped to the side of the bench. “It’s big enough for sharing.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, and I noticed his dimples for the first time.

Sitting side by side on the bench with him, I felt this enormous energy beside me that made me anxious. I secretly peeked at him, only to find he was also looking at me. My face turned hot so fast that it propelled me to stand up abruptly. “I believe breakfast should be ready now,” I said to the ground between us and tried to walk away as non-nonchalantly as possible.

It was probably unsuccessful.

 

08.11.1949 (Thu)

I made sure I was early enough to be at the bench before him this morning. I sat and admired the pond like I usually do. After five minutes, I started to feel disappointed that he was not there yet, and then I felt silly. Why do I care? I now have the whole bench; it’s just how I like it. But when he finally walked over and greeted me, I felt this warmth and giddiness in my stomach, similar to the nerves I’d feel before a big exam. He brought his book today. It was a book of ancient poems.

“I read so I can stop thinking about my own worries. And this is not about law, so it’s not really studying.” He remembered what I asked him the first day.

“Who is your favorite poet?” I felt eager to show my knowledge of the subject.

“Well, it might be corny, but I favor Li Bai.”

“Really? I prefer Su Shi myself.”

“He was also magnificent. His artistic conception is unlike any other, so freeing and heroic.”

“Yes! Remembering Chibi was a masterpiece! He had a way of translating emotions into words and didn’t need to drink himself to death for it!”

Shi-Xing’s face cringed, and I realized I said too much. “I’m sorry, Li Bai was a real master. I just meant…”

“It’s alright.” He smiled again; It soothed me. “I think Li Bai drank because he was so misunderstood by his political regime. He had such ideals but couldn’t help make his world a better place.”

His smile turned bitter, and his eyes were again filled with melancholy.

We sat in silence until Auntie A-Mei came to get us for breakfast.

 

08.13.1949 (Sat)

For the past two days, Shi-Xing and I have been sitting together on the bench in the mornings. He seemed to lighten up more each day and started sharing more of his life stories. He was the youngest son and had always felt he was living in the shadows of his siblings. Even when he got accepted into the National Taiwan University, the top-ranking university, his father only patted his shoulders gently since his two older brothers were already top-notch students there. And with only one year in, his father decided that he had fallen with the wrong crowd and thus sent him here to the countryside with us.

“Wrong crowd? But you guys are in the best college.” I was confused.

“To my father, the wrong crowd is anybody that doesn’t share the same political opinion as he.” There was a pang of anger in his voice.

“So he sent you here for some re-education and reform? Should you be helping A-Dong out with some labor work?”

“You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

“I’m sorry,” I felt reprimanded.

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” He sighed. “We live in such an odd and turbulent time, don’t we?”

“Yes.” I just wanted to agree and appease him.

“What’s your day like today?” He changed the subject.

“Same old, school. Oh, there’s an anti-communism rally at my school later in the afternoon. I think I’ll join…want to come with?”

“There are anti-communism rallies in high schools here?”

“Yes, we are not children. I’m not that much younger than you, you know?”

“Oh no, I meant no offense. I just didn’t expect these activities here in the country. You don’t see the propaganda posted everywhere, like in Taipei City, so I just assumed…”

“That we don’t care? No. And I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to call the posters that.”

“Right.” Suddenly, he turned his sharp eyes toward me as if he wanted to look right through me. “Do you truly believe in those messages?”

I was speechless. I don’t think I ever thought about this question or what my beliefs actually are.

“I’m going to go to breakfast.” I was embarrassed and started to walk off.

Suddenly, he stood up and grabbed my arm. “Please just remember,” his soft, firm voice rang through my whole body. ” Never fall into anything blindly. ALWAYS think for yourself.”

 

08.21.1949 (Sun)

It’s been about two weeks since Shi-Xing came to live with us. Every morning, we would sit together on the bench and chat. I hate to admit it, but it has quickly become the highlight of my days. We chat about everything, from how Auntie A-Mei always overcooks the vegetables and how Mother babies Yu-Jie, to the novels we read and the letters we wrote to our friends.

I like the way he looks at me, and his eyes always sparkle when he shares his ideas and stories with me.

I often asked about his Taipei city life, but that was the one subject he remained reserved about. I’ve only visited Taipei once before, and I was amazed by the number of people on the streets and the endless types of goods people sell. I’ve always wanted to visit again, and maybe Shi-Xing could take me there one day. That probably would be so much fun. I would put on the new dress that Mother had it made for me, ask Auntie A-Mei to braid my hair nicely, and maybe even put a little rouge on my lips.

 

08.23.1949 (Tue)

My uncle paid us a visit today. As always, he came bearing lots of gifts for us. He greeted Shi-Xing warmly and asked about his family. But when he started to ask him about his studies and university life, his expression changed, and then my uncle pulled him to the garden to chat privately. I tried to sneak around to listen to their conversation, but I could only get close enough to see the grim expressions on both their faces.

Afterward, my uncle called my parents to the sitting room. When Mother tried to stop me from entering, my uncle said to her, “Let her come in. She is old enough to know all this.” It was as if another world war had started.

“How much do you know about why Shi-Xing is here?” He asked my father, though the question sounded largely rhetorical. “He was involved in the underground communist newspaper!”

“He was only helping them out in minor ways.” I was surprised to hear this from Father. “His father vouched for him and said he was just persuaded by some bad friends. He’s not really a communist, and after all this has died down, he’d return to school and finish his law degree.”

“He just admitted to me that he was an editor! And this is not dying down anytime soon. I hope you know that.”

My mother sighed.

“That law they passed earlier this year basically means they can practically arrest anyone they found suspicious or simply unpleasant.” My uncle continued. “They busted that communist newspaper about a few weeks ago, turned the National Taiwan University inside out, and they just arrested one of the major players. I bet he’s being tortured and interrogated right now! What if he cracks and spills out all the people that were involved? They will round them all up and execute them, including anyone who helped them!”

A pause. “Do you know what I’m getting at?”

His words sent shock waves through my body. I felt the chill ran up my spine, and my stomach instantly a hollow hole.

My father remained silent. My mother sat closer to me and started to rub my back. She usually does this only when she is nervous.

There were a few moments of absolute quiet in the sitting room, with my uncle staring intently at my parents, and then he sighed, “Is nobody going to say it? You have to kick him out of the house!”

“He’s just a kid, brother,” Father said finally.

“Do you think that’s going to matter? We are in Martial Law! Anyone, including kids, I bet, could be considered a communist and get locked up. He is considered a fugitive right now, and if they find him in your house…think about it, brother, even with all your connections, do you think your family would be spared? Are you willing to take that risk?”

“No.” My father replied annoyingly. “What am I suppose to tell his father?”

“Tell him you’ve done all you can and can do no more. This is so much more than what you owed him.”

I’ve had enough. I finally found my legs and ran straight to Shi-Xing’s room out of the sitting room. When he saw my face, he instantly knew, “You know now.”

“Why did you do it?”

“…”

“And why did you have to tell my uncle?”

“He caught on to me first; I must’ve been letting my guard down since it’s so peaceful here. He told me what had happened to my friends. He is right, though; my presence here threatens all of you. I never thought I’d be putting you all in danger before he made me realize how severe the consequences are.”

I tried to take deep breaths, but my tears still started falling out of my eyes.

“Where would you go?” I started sobbing.

“I don’t know yet.” He reached out and tried to wipe the tears off my face. His lean fingers caressed my cheek, and his melancholic eyes were glowing softly through his lens; I felt my heart pounding through my chest, I touched his hand, and he leaned in.

It was my first kiss.

 

08.24.1949 (Wed)

This morning, there was no morning chat with Shi-Xing. Father had arranged a transport for him at the crack of dawn. He was to go to the port, and his father had got him passage to somewhere that it was best for us not to know. “I will write you if I can,” he said to me before departing.

I felt that my heart had been torn in two, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Auntie A-Mei had tried to console me with my favorite red bean cake, but it no longer tasted the same. The sugar on my tongue offered a fleeing sweetness that only reminded me of the sweetness that had fled my life.

I sat on our bench until it was time for dinner.

 

08.25.1949 (Thu)

Bad news. Shi-Xing had been arrested. The military agents had been one step ahead of us, waiting by all the ports. They picked him up immediately.

I asked Father if they were definitely going to execute him.

“May the Universe be kind to him.” Was his reply.

I hated that, and I could feel my sorrows turned into stone and made a permanent resident in my heart.

And I feel this anger like I’ve never felt angry before, compounded with layers of powerlessness and helplessness. I was stupid and fell in love with a communist, and this is what I deserve.

 

09.02.1949 (Fri)

I got a letter from Shi-Xing today. It was sent from an unknown location.

I looked at the ominous letter for a long time before mustering the courage to open it. His neat handwriting on the envelope reminded me of his beautiful fingers on my cheek, and I started crying instantly.

There was only one word in his letter.

“Goodbye.”

BACKFIRE: Users Abandon TikTok

ksnip 20260207 101918
ksnip 20260207 101918

The most dramatic loss for the ordinary person wasn’t a specific machine or a secret formula, but rather the catastrophic collapse of standardization and mass production.

If you were a peasant living in Britain or Northern Gaul around 350 AD, your quality of life was supported by a massive, interconnected global economy. You likely ate off high-quality, mass-produced ceramic plates imported from North Africa. You lived under a roof made of standardized fired clay tiles. You used metal tools made of iron smelted in industrial quantities.

By 500 AD, just a few generations later, those “everyday” technologies had vanished from the lives of ordinary people.

Here are the specific comforts that disappeared:

  • High-Quality Pottery (Terra Sigillata): This is the most visible archaeological evidence of the collapse. In the Roman period, even poor households possessed Terra Sigillata—glossy, red-slip, durable tableware produced in massive factories and shipped across the empire. It was hygienic and easy to clean. After the collapse, the trade networks that made shipping heavy ceramics profitable fell apart. People went back to using crude, locally made pottery that was porous, fragile, and hard to clean, or they reverted to using wood and leather, which rot and harbor bacteria.
  • Tiled Roofs: The Romans covered everything in ceramic tiles. They were heavy, waterproof, and, crucially, fireproof. To have a tiled roof, you need a nearby factory to fire them and a road network to transport them. When the economy collapsed, ordinary people lost access to fireproof roofing. Housing reverted to timber structures with thatched roofs, making catastrophic village fires a constant reality of daily life again.
  • The Hypocaust (and Public Hygiene): While the average peasant didn’t have underfloor heating (hypocausts) in their own shack, they had access to it through public spaces. Roman towns were dotted with public baths that were affordable enough for almost everyone. These were marvels of hydraulic engineering and heating. When the Roman state could no longer maintain the aqueducts or pay for the massive amount of wood required to keep the fires burning, the baths went cold and then fell into ruin. The “technology” of being warm and clean in the winter was lost.
  • The Iron Nail: This sounds trivial, but it represents the loss of industrial scale. At the legionary fortress of Inchtuthil in Scotland, departing Romans buried 875,000 iron nails to keep them from enemies. Iron was that abundant. Later, in the post-Roman period, iron became precious. Buildings were no longer held together by iron nails but by wooden pegs and joinery. If a building burned down, people would sift through the ashes to recover the nails—something a Roman builder would have found absurd.
  • Literacy as a Utility: In the height of the Empire, literacy wasn’t just for scholars; it was for soldiers, merchants, and tradesmen. Graffiti in Pompeii shows that regular people wrote jokes, insults, and shopping lists. This was possible because of the availability of cheap papyrus imported from Egypt. When the trade routes fractured, papyrus became rare in Europe. Writing shifted to parchment (animal skin), which was astronomically expensive. As a result, writing ceased to be an everyday tool for the commoner and became the guarded reserve of the church and elite administration.

The tragedy of the fall of Rome wasn’t that people forgot how to make a tile or a good pot. The knowledge remained in pockets. What was lost was the economic complexity required to make those things cheap enough for ordinary people to afford.

When the safety of the seas and roads vanished, the cost of transport skyrocketed. A potter in Tunisia could no longer sell a bowl to a farmer in England for a few copper coins. The farmer had to make his own bowl, and the potter went out of business. The “technology” that was lost was the specialized, interconnected civilization itself.

Surviving The Next Mass Extinction: Are we too late?

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Sunset Whispers

Written in response to: Write a story that includes the line, “Is nobody going to say it?”.

WR Peden

 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I leaned back on the warm sand, my head nestled against Alex’s shoulder. Stars twinkled above us, and the ocean rippled softly under the moonlight. Silence had become a soothing presence between us.

“Is nobody going to say it?” I broke the tranquil quiet, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Alex chuckled softly, his breath warm in the cooling air. He glanced down at me, eyebrows arched in curiosity. “Say what, Maya?” he asked gently.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked at me, his dark eyes shining under the night sky.

“You know what,” I murmured, my heart pounding. “We’ve been tiptoeing around this all day.”

He sighed, a blend of amusement and something deeper in his tone. “I think you’re right,” he said, his voice softening. “But sometimes, what’s left unsaid speaks the loudest.”

Biting my lower lip, I turned my gaze to the water, watching the waves gently crash against the shore. “I don’t want to ruin this, Alex,” I confessed, my voice unsteady. “I’m scared—scared of losing what we have.”

His hand found mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not going to lose me, Maya. I’m here for you,” Alex assured me, his voice steady and sincere.

I glanced at him, taking in the way his dark hair tousled in the ocean breeze, the softness of his jawline, the warmth of his smile. I had always valued our friendship, but lately, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt towards him.

“I know you are, Alex. And that’s what makes this so hard,” I said, drawing my knees up to my chest. “But what if this—what we have—is worth exploring?”

“Maybe I’ve trusted my instincts before, and they’ve never let me down,” I added, feeling a surge of courage despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Alex looked intently at me before responding. “I’ve thought about it too, Maya. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin that. But if there’s something more, something that we could have together, I don’t want to deny it,” he confided.

My heart leapt at his words, but I was determined to keep my nerves at bay. “I feel the same way, Alex, but we need to be cautious. I don’t want to lose what we have, either.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze locked on mine. The wind picked up, sending loose strands of my hair flying across my face. Alex gently tucked them behind my ear, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

“It’s worth the risk, isn’t it?” he whispered. “Every moment with you is worth it to me, Maya.”

A smile slowly spread across my lips, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek. I knew there were risks involved in exploring this new facet of our relationship, but I couldn’t ignore the spark between us.

“I want to be brave too, Alex. I want to be brave for us,” I confessed, feeling a newfound sense of strength surge through me.

He returned my smile, his dark eyes locking onto mine, a blend of surprise and wonder swirling within them.

The air between us seemed to pulsate with electricity, as if a long-dormant spark had finally ignited. Our bond had always been strong, but now it felt as though we were daring to envision a future both thrilling and frightening.

Breathing deeply, I leaned closer to him, basking in the warmth of his embrace. His gentle hands stroked my back, sending shivers of excitement through my body. We sat there in silence, a comfortable and tender silence that conveyed more than words ever could.

“Maya?” he whispered, his voice barely holding steady.

A surge of emotion overwhelmed me, and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I squeezed his hand tightly, conveying my understanding and empathy without words.

I was all too familiar with the fear of vulnerability, of exposing ourselves to potential pain or rejection. Yet, the intricate dance between us convinced me the risk might be worth taking.

I leaned back and gazed at the night sky, offering him a small, knowing smile. “I feel like I’ve been running away from this for so long,” I confessed. “But I want to be brave and take a leap of faith for us, too.”

Alex caressed my cheek and leaned in, pressing his lips gently against mine. I closed my eyes, savoring the tingling sensation spreading throughout my body. We kissed slowly, tenderly, exploring this newfound intimacy.

Laughter suddenly shattered the tranquility.

It was Ava, my childhood friend, appearing from nowhere. Alex and I pulled away, faces flushed, turning towards her.

She twirled on the beach, her short blonde hair catching the moonlight. It had been so long since I’d seen her, and her arrival made me question everything.

“Maya!” Ava shouted, sprinting towards us and enveloping me in a tight hug.

I returned her embrace, a pang of unease gnawing at my stomach. “Ava, it’s so good to see you!” I exclaimed with a smile, masking my inner turmoil.

Alex stood, brushing the sand from his pants. “Ava, haven’t seen you in ages! It’s great to see you again,” he said warmly.

Ava released me and smiled at Alex. “I’ve missed you two, but I’m glad you’re finally taking a chance on each other,” she remarked, her tone playful.

My heart raced as Alex and I exchanged nervous glances, unsure how to reply.

Ava pulled up a worn picnic blanket beside us, its ivy print frayed in places, and plopped down, crossing her legs. “I’ve heard some rumors about you two making moves towards each other. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, her tone light and curious.

I glanced at Alex, biting my lower lip, unsure of what to say. I didn’t want to lie to Ava, but couldn’t expose my insecurities either.

“We’ve been exploring our feelings for each other, yes,” Alex said, taking my hand.

Relief washed over me at his honest words.

Ava giggled, clapping her hands. “I knew it! I always thought you two should give it a try!” she exclaimed. My heart pounded as I tried to collect my thoughts.

Alex held me closely, whispering in my ear, “We’re just figuring things out.”

Trying to calm myself, I smiled at Alex. “I appreciate that, Alex. And your honesty,” I said softly.

Ava began chatting about a recent trip to Spain, and I was grateful for the distraction.

As night fell, Alex started a small fire beside the blanket, and we roasted marshmallows. The flames’ warmth felt soothing, and I leaned against Alex as we shared stories and memories with Ava.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves louder. I shivered, pulling my sweater tighter. Noticing, Alex draped his jacket around my shoulders. I thanked him, enjoying the warmth and closeness.

Ava, seemingly unfazed by the chill, continued regaling us with travel tales. But eventually, her laughter faded, and she stared out at the ocean, her gaze distant and thoughtful.

“What’s on your mind, Ava? You seem a thousand miles away,” I said, feeling the warmth of Alex’s jacket.

Ava sighed, looking our way. “I’ve seen so many amazing things, met so many people, but sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d stayed where people truly understood me, like you guys.”

Alex smiled, squeezing my knee gently. “You have a lot of wisdom for someone who’s only twenty-seven,” he said, his voice full of emotion.

My heart swelled with warmth. Questions raced through my mind—what would the future hold for us? But I tried to focus on the present, hoping clarity would come with time.

Ava’s eyes shifted back to us, bright in the firelight. “I’ve missed our adventures and late-night heart-to-hearts.”

I didn’t want Ava to feel neglected because of my growing relationship with Alex. She needed attention and companionship too.

Leaning towards her, I smiled encouragingly. “Don’t worry, Ava. We have plenty of time for adventures and heart-to-hearts. We’re just navigating some new feelings right now. We’ll get through it together, like always. Okay?”

Tears filled Ava’s eyes as she hugged me tightly. “I’m so happy for you, Maya,” she whispered.

Grateful for her support, I felt a twinge of guilt. Alex and I needed to figure things out, but I didn’t want to lose Ava’s friendship.

As the night grew colder, we said our goodbyes, looking forward to future adventures. Alex and I walked hand in hand towards the parking lot, our footsteps soft on the dry sand.

My heart was full of curiosity, nervousness, and warmth. Alex broke the comfortable silence. “Would you like to grab coffee tomorrow? We could talk more,” he suggested, squeezing my hand.

My heart skipped a beat. “Sure, I’d love that,” I said, the taste of s’mores lingering.

Back at my quaint beach cottage, anticipation filled me. I crossed my fingers, silently thanking the universe for the potential blessing with Alex.

I pondered what was to come as I threw myself onto my bed. Moonlight streamed in, casting a ghostly blue tint. Reflecting on my connection with Alex—our friendship, our bond, and this newfound intimacy—I felt both exhilarated and unnerved.

Grabbing my journal, I poured my heart onto its pages. Every stroke of ink protected my fragmented heart. I narrated the beach encounter with Alex and our evolving bond, hoping the warmth we shared would never fade.

The words flowed, staining the pages with emotion. I explored my feelings, dissecting the complex layers unfurling.

My heart raced with adrenaline. The excitement was tinged with worry. The thought of change sent an icy shiver through my bones.

Alex, my friend and confidante—how would things evolve? Would we drift apart if our feelings intensified?

Slow Cooker Chili Recipe

An easy slow cooker chili recipe with Ground Beef, beans, tomato sauce, and the best homemade chili seasoning. It putters away in the slow cooker for the juiciest beef and rich flavor.

Thank you to  on behalf of the Beef Checkoff for sponsoring this Slow Cooker Chili recipe. I received compensation, but all opinions are my own.

Slow Cooker chili served in a bowl garnished with cheese, sour cream and avocado

This post may contain affiliate links. Read my disclosure policy.

The Best Way to Cook Chili:

Slow Cooking chili is a classic way to cook chili. It’s the easiest chili because you can set it and forget it and this is how the award-winning chilis are achieved. The low and slow cooking process melds the flavors of the chili seasoning into every bite and the beef becomes so tender, juicy, and irresistible. You can slow cook on low for 6-8 hours or on high heat for 3-4 hours.

Chili in a slow cooker with spoon

Ingredients for Slow Cooker Chili:

  • Ground Beef – no other protein does it quite like beef and tastes amazing. We use lean (90/10 or 93/7) to eliminate the need to spoon out excess fat. If yours has a higher fat content, you can spoon out the excess fat when it renders in the skillet.
  • Onion – we love a generous amount of onion because it adds amazing sweet notes to the chili and disappears into the chili as it slow cooks.
  • Beans – you can change up the beans based on what you have on hand, but the classic beans for chili are kidney beans (we love dark red), and black beans. Be sure to rinse and drain the beans in a colander for the best chili consistency and color.
  • Tomatoes & Tomato Sauce – We love the combination of canned diced tomatoes (with their juice) as well as tomato sauce to give the chili a saucy consistency with great texture. For added flavor, we add a can of diced tomatoes and green chilis.
  • Chili Seasoning – we make a simple homemade blend with chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, oregano, salt, and pepper.

Ingredients for chili with ground beef, beans, tomatoes, onion and seasonings

Do you Prefer a Spicy Chili?

To keep it kid-friendly, this classic chili is mild and not spicy. If you prefer a spicy chili, you can either add hot sauce to your bowl when serving or if you want the entire batch to be spicier, add an extra tablespoon of Chili Powder and 1/4 to 1/2 tsp of Cayenne Pepper to give it a spicy kick.

How to Make Slow Cooker Chili:

Making chili in the slow cooker doesn’t get any easier. It’s as simple as browning the beef and onions then adding all of the canned ingredients to the slow cooker and turning it on. If you have a multicooker with a slow cooker function, you can saute and slow cook all in the same pot.

  1. SAUTE the beef and onions in a skillet then add garlic and seasonings to the pan.
  2. TRANSFER the beef mixture to a 6 Qt Slow Cooker.
  3. ADD REMAINING INGREDIENTS – rinsed and drained beans, diced tomatoes with their juice and tomato sauce.
  4. SLOW COOK – cover and set slow cooker on low 6-8 hours or on high 3-4 hours then season more to taste if needed.

Making beef chili step by step tutorial

Our Favorite Chili Toppings:

We love to serve this family-style where everyone can build their own chili bowls with the toppings they love. Toppings can vary based on what we have in the fridge, but these are our favorite toppings for chili –

  • Cheese – mild cheddar is the classic choice, but Mexican shredded cheese works equally well
  • Onion – chopped green or red onion adds a fresh pop of color and flavor
  • Avocado – because we can’t help putting avocado on everything, especially chili.
  • Cilantro – for garnish and adding fresh flavor
  • Sour cream – balances the dish (especially great when chili is served over a baked potato)
  • Sliced jalapenos – you can use any hot pepper for a spicy kick

Toppings for chili with avocados, chives, onion, jalapeños, cheese, sour cream and cilantro

How to Serve Chili:

Chili keeps really well in the refrigerator so we love to get creative with leftovers. There are so many ways to serve classic chili and really it can be served almost any time of day. Some of our favorites include:

  1. Chili Cheese Dip – Sprinkle chili with cheddar cheese and serve as an appetizer with tortilla chips.
  2. Chili Dogs – Top a hot dog with chili and shredded cheese to transform it into a chili cheese dog.
  3. Chili Stuffed Baked Potatoes – topping a baked potato with hot chili is a delicious gluten-free option and fun way to serve a crowd.
  4. In a Bowl – loaded with all of the toppings and tortilla chips or pita chips on the side (this is our family favorite)!

Crockpot chili served in a bowl garnished with toppings and tortilla chips

Why We Love This Family Friendly Dinner:

With so many families staying home together now, juggling homeschool, and cooking more than ever, it’s a great time to get kids in the kitchen and teach them through cooking. This slow cooker beef chili is a great way to teach your children cooking skills. Children can learn:

  • Food safety tips like washing hands after handling raw meat
  • The importance of using separate plates and utensils for raw and ready to eat foods to prevent cross-contamination
  • How to measure spices and weigh ingredients

If you let kids help with preparing the meal, they are more likely to enjoy eating it. It also makes for a memorable photo-op moment!

Making chili in a slow cooker with kids

More Beef Recipes You Will Love:

Get the print-friendly recipe below for this Classic Slow Cooker Beef Chili.

Classic Slow Cooker Chili Recipe

4.99 from 2306 votes
Author: Natasha of NatashasKitchen.com
An easy Slow Cooker chili recipe with Ground Beef, beans, tomato sauce, and the best homemade chili seasoning. It putters away in the slow cooker for the juiciest beef and rich flavor.
Prep Time: 10 minutes
Cook Time: 3 hours 30 minutes
Total Time: 3 hours 40 minutes

Ingredients

Servings: people
  • 2 lb lean Ground Beef, (90/10 or 93/7)
  • 1 large onion, diced
  • 3 garlic cloves, minced
  • 2 tsp cumin powder
  • 2 Tbsp chili powder
  • 1 tsp garlic powder
  • 1 tsp dried oregano
  • 1 1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
  • 1/2 tsp black pepper
  • 15 oz can black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 30 oz kidney beans, two 15oz cans, drained and rinsed
  • 30 oz diced tomatoes, with their juice
  • 10 oz diced tomatoes and green chilis, with their juice
  • 30 oz tomato sauce

Instructions

  • Place a large skillet over medium-high heat and sauté beef until it releases fat (4-5 minutes), breaking it up with a spatula.
  • Add onion to the skillet and sauté until tender (4-5 minutes). Add minced garlic and seasonings: cumin, chili powder, garlic powder, dried oregano, salt and pepper. Cook another 30 seconds stirring constantly. Transfer to a 6 Qt slow cooker.
  • Add remaining ingredients into the slow cooker: rinsed and drained beans, diced tomatoes with their juice, diced tomatoes and green chilis with juice and tomato sauce. Stir to combine and cook on high for 3-4 hours or on low for 6-8 hours. Season to taste if desired and serve warm.

Nutrition Per Serving

340kcal Calories41g Carbs33g Protein6g Fat
Course: Main Course
Cuisine: American, Tex Mex
Keyword: slow cooker chili
Skill Level: Easy
Cost to Make: $$
Calories: 340

To the uninitiated, the bar counter of a busy British pub on a Friday night looks like anarchy. There are no ticket numbers, no velvet ropes, and often no visible line. However, do not be fooled by the visual chaos: you are looking at one of the most sophisticated, self-policing queuing systems on Earth.

The bar staff are keeping a complex mental tally of exactly who arrived when, and the patrons are silently enforcing a social contract to ensure fair play. If you violate the rules of this invisible queue, you will find yourself unintentionally invisible to the bartender.

Here is what you must avoid to ensure you actually get a pint.

Do not wave money or click your fingers
This is the cardinal sin. In some countries, holding up cash signals intent to buy. In a UK pub, waving a banknote, clicking your fingers, or shouting “Barman!” is interpreted as a grave insult. It implies the staff are incompetent or ignoring you.

  • The consequence: The bartender sees you, but they will deliberately serve three or four people who arrived after you before they acknowledge your existence.
  • The correct behavior: Stand at the bar, make brief eye contact with the staff, and then wait. holding your wallet or card visibly in your hand (at chest level, not waved in the air) is a subtle enough signal that you are ready to pay.

Do not try to form a single-file line
Unless it is a very quiet Tuesday afternoon, British pub-goers do not queue in a single file behind one person. This is inefficient as it utilizes only two feet of a twenty-foot bar.

  • The correct behavior: You are expected to “belly up.” Find a gap at the counter and fill it. If you stand six feet back behind someone else, the bartender assumes you are not ordering but merely chatting with the person in front of you. You must establish a presence at the wood.

Do not order a Guinness last
If your order includes a Guinness (or any stout requiring a two-part pour), you must order it first.

  • The reason: A proper Guinness takes roughly 119.5 seconds to pour. The bartender pours three-quarters of the glass, lets it settle, and then tops it up. If you order a lager, a wine, and then a Guinness, the bartender has to stand there idly watching the stout settle.
  • The correct behavior: Say, “A pint of Guinness, please,” wait for them to start the pour and walk away, and then list the rest of your drinks. By the time the other drinks are ready, the Guinness will be settled and ready for the top-up.

Do not display indecision at the front
The time to browse the selection of tap handles is while you are waiting, not when the bartender asks, “What can I get you?”

  • The consequence: If you get the bartender’s attention and then turn to your friends and ask, “Dave, what did you want again?”, the bartender will immediately move to the next person. In a busy pub, the service window is open for about three seconds. If you miss it, you go to the back of the mental rotation.

Do not pay for drinks individually
If you are with a group of four, do not order four separate drinks and pay with four separate cards. This grinds the service to a halt and infuriates the people waiting behind you.

  • The correct behavior: Buy “rounds.” One person buys for the whole group. The next time the glasses are empty, a different person goes to the bar. It is faster, more social, and keeps the invisible queue moving.

Getting served in a UK pub is mostly about projecting an aura of patient readiness. If you are polite, know what you want, and respect the geometry of the bar, the staff will eventually give you the nod.

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