My daughter is starting first grade and it is a Chinese school.
Tomorrow we will spend an all day orientation that will include a breakfast and a lunch. She will wear her uniform, and carry her backpack as if it was a regular school day, and we will walk with her through orientation and classes. She will make new friends, and we will meet the other parents. As all things in China, it will be VERY detailed and intense.
Her desks are equipped with chairs that recline back so the children can take naps at their desks, and the school is very clean and organized. Piss poor parking though. I’ll need to park on the street. *sigh* I really hate doing that.
I’m pretty excited, actually. She has seen so much growth in her three years at kindergarten, that I cannot wait to watch her grow again faster, better and stronger.
And that is my update for today…
When US Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick said that NVidia would sell crippled AI chips to China, and the Chinese would be satisfied with this technology, what does that say about his understanding of China and Chinese technology?
Heard of Siyuan 590?
It’s made by Cambricon and it delivers a performance equivalent to 88% of the NVDIA H100
They beat the H20 by 8 times in performance and overall processing efficiency
Everyone keeps looking at Huawei but very few know there are two others Cambricon & Hua Hong who make Chips on par with or at 80% to 85% the level of a H100
Guess how many Chinese Entities make Chips on par with the H20 or even better than the H20???
Almost 26 !!!!
26 Players in China from Mintec to Sousong make Chips 107% to 139% better than the H20
They take longer and cost more today 😞😞😞
For instance a Siyuan 590 is 34% more expensive than a H100 and a Mintec 773 is 46% more expensive than a NVDIA H20
It averages 15 months for 6 Siyuan 590 powered Servers compared to 4 months for 6 H100 Powered servers by Importing them
“Do it”
Says the Government now and when the Government says something, It is an ORDER
The Government WANTS people to pay 34% and 46% more and wait longer for Servers to ensure that within 10 years, China can make better quality chips than NVDIA at 40% lower cost
They of course use the National Security Excuse
Same as Solar Panels
In 2006, Chinese Solar Panels cost 43% more than European Solar Panels and were only 71% as efficient
Yet the Government kept insisting on a minimum 80% Domestic Solar Panel and Cell quota plus a minimum R&D threshold
Today Chinese Panels are 30% better quality than anything the West can make or anyone else can make and cost 90% less
Wiping out everyone else from the market
Lutnick ain’t a Fool
He knows the future clearly
He knows China
So he may talk a lot of nonsense but deep down my bet is he is investing big in Cambricon and Hua Hong through proxies
(Though the shares of Cambricon are rising way too unnaturally)
Disney admits its “toxic” male fans were right…
Why China is better than the USA…
I found this on YouTube. Funny but true.
1. USA high cost of living. 2. USA expensive healthcare. 3. USA student loan debt. 4. USA income inequality. 5. USA gun violence. 6. USA racial discrimination. 7. USA police brutality. 8. USA expensive housing. 9. USA homelessness crisis. 10. USA expensive childcare. 11. USA job insecurity. 12. USA overwork culture. 13. USA lack of paid leave. 14. USA expensive insurance. 15. USA wealth concentration. 16. USA immigration challenges. 17. USA expensive education. 18. USA urban congestion. 19. USA air pollution. 20. USA climate vulnerability. 21. USA expensive transport. 22. USA rural poverty. 23. USA political polarization. 24. USA partisan media. 25. USA corporate lobbying. 26. USA corrupt politics. 27. USA expensive legal system. 28. USA racial wealth gap. 29. USA mental health crisis. 30. USA high drug prices. 31. USA opiate epidemic. 32. USA gun availability. 33. USA school shootings. 34. USA limited public transit. 35. USA expensive utilities. 36. USA lack of affordable housing. 37. USA costly retirement. 38. USA elderly neglect. 39. USA high crime rates in cities. 40. USA social isolation. 41. USA expensive food. 42. USA fast food dependence. 43. USA obesity epidemic. 44. USA wage stagnation. 45. USA high credit card debt. 46. USA expensive banking fees. 47. USA natural disasters. 48. USA weak labor unions. 49. USA expensive phone/internet. 50. USA declining life expectancy. 51. USA racial profiling. 52. USA broken immigration system. 53. USA mass incarceration. 54. USA privatized prisons. 55. USA high suicide rates. 56. USA domestic violence. 57. USA expensive dental care. 58. USA high cost of prescriptions. 59. USA low voter turnout. 60. USA gerrymandering issues. 61. USA wealth gap in healthcare access. 62. USA declining public schools. 63. USA teacher shortages. 64. USA expensive college tuition. 65. USA expensive textbooks. 66. USA underfunded infrastructure. 67. USA traffic congestion. 68. USA road accidents. 69. USA suburban sprawl. 70. USA pollution from industries. 71. USA lack of recycling culture. 72. USA food deserts. 73. USA water contamination cases. 74. USA high energy bills. 75. USA housing bubbles. 76. USA mortgage debt crisis. 77. USA foreclosure problems. 78. USA racial housing discrimination. 79. USA lack of universal healthcare. 80. USA expensive emergency care. 81. USA income tax complexity. 82. USA IRS audits stress. 83. USA corporate monopolies. 84. USA outsourcing of jobs. 85. USA decline of manufacturing. 86. USA expensive daycare. 87. USA expensive eldercare. 88. USA rising property taxes. 89. USA gentrification issues. 90. USA drug trafficking. 91. USA border security problems. 92. USA cybercrime issues. 93. USA financial scams. 94. USA climate change impact. 95. USA wildfires destruction. 96. USA hurricanes damage. 97. USA tornado disasters. 98. USA flooding in states. 99. USA rising insurance costs. 100. USA overall wealth.
What is the most powerful image you have ever seen?
This is one of them.
This man, Brian Banks, was a high school football star. His life fell apart after he was accused of rape by a sixteen year old girl.
She later admitted that it was a lie. He had spent six years in prison at that point. This is him when he found out the case was dismissed.
At the time, he’d been offered a full scholarship to USC to play football. But at the time he got out, he was too out of form and unable to get back up to speed.
It is but one of many huge costs this man paid for this.
He was exonerated after his release, when he recorded a conversation with the woman who had accused him of the crime, where she admitted it never happened, but she was scared to go back on her claim for fear of losing the settlements money she’d received.
The woman was ordered to repay $2.6 million to the Unified School District (she’d sued the school for inadequate security).
Banks only received a measly sum of $150,000 for his time in prison.
Sadly, many people sit in prison right now for crimes they never committed. And they may never be released.
Our justice system needs serious reform.
Sir Whiskerton and the Five-Star Compost Pile: A Tale of Gourmet Garbage, Brutal Yelp Reviews, and One Very Discerning Cat
Ah, dear reader, prepare your palate (and possibly your gag reflex) for a tale so culinarily catastrophic that even the scarecrow would demand a refund. Today’s adventure begins with a compost heap, a chef with questionable standards, and a hen whose critique could shatter glass. So, grab your napkin (or hazmat suit) and join me for Sir Whiskerton and the Five-Star Compost Pile.
Act I: A Chef’s Questionable Vision
Chef Chloe, the farm’s resident culinary “innovator,” stumbled upon the compost pile one fateful afternoon. Where others saw rotting vegetables and eggshells, she saw… potential.
-
“Mon dieu!” she gasped, clutching her heart. “Zis is not garbage—it is terroir-infused soil! Ze essence of ze farm!”
Ignoring the visible fumes, she scooped a heap into a gravy boat, garnished it with a single wilted parsley sprig, and declared it “Le Compost du Soleil”—a “rustic, earthy amuse-bouche.”
Act II: The Most Reluctant Taste Test
Sir Whiskerton, ever the farm’s unofficial health inspector, raised a skeptical eyebrow.
-
“Chloe,” he said slowly, “that’s a science experiment.”
But Chloe was already serving her masterpiece to Doris the Hen, the farm’s most dramatic (and brutally honest) food critic.
-
Doris took one peck. Paused. Then:
“Tastes like my ex’s cooking.”
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆ (“Ambiance: ‘dumpster.’ Service: ‘nonexistent.’”)
Porkchop the Pig, ever the optimist, took a bite. “Kinda… sparkly?” he mused, before his eyes watered. “Oh. That’s mold.”
Act III: The Cover-Up
As animals fled or fainted (Lillian the Hen opted for both), Sir Whiskerton sprang into action.
-
“This,” he declared, “is a crime against cuisine.”
With the dignity of a Michelin judge revoking a star, he buried the evidence (and Chloe’s apron) under six feet of fresh hay.
-
Chef Chloe, undeterred: “Perhaps ze next batch needs more truffle oil?”
-
Sir Whiskerton: “Perhaps you need a new hobby.”
The Moral of the Story
As the farm recovered (with Bessie the Cow leading a “soil cleanse” meditation), Whiskerton posted a new sign:
“NO ‘FERMENTATION INNOVATION’ ALLOWED.
—Management.”
Moral: Not everything “artisanal” deserves a plate—or a palate.
Post-Credit Scene
Doris starts a farm-wide Yelp, reviewing everything from sunbeams (“★☆☆☆☆, too bright”) to Porkchop’s mud baths (“★★★★☆, lacks cucumber water”).
Best Lines:
-
“Ze nose knows depth!” – Chef Chloe, inhaling compost fumes
-
“I’ve eaten rocks with better mouthfeel.” – Doris, unimpressed
-
“This is why I hunt my food.” – Sir Whiskerton, burying the “dish”
Starring:
-
Chef Chloe (Soil Sommelier)
-
Doris the Hen (Gordon Ramsay of the Barnyard)
-
Sir Whiskerton (Reluctant Food Police)
Key Jokes:
-
Porkchop’s “sparkly” review being quoted on Chloe’s fake menu (“A revelation!” – Porkchop, probably hallucinating).
-
Rufus the Dog trying to “fetch” the compost, then spitting it out like a betrayed tennis ball.
-
The Farmer absentmindedly adding it to his coffee. (“Nutty.”)
P.S.
Remember: If your dish glows or growls, it’s not fusion cuisine—it’s hazardous waste.
The End.
Bon appétit (or not),
The Sir Whiskerton Team 😼
How long after drinking water does it actually hydrate your body?
A man comes home. He is thirsty. The inside of his mouth is dry. He pours a glass of water and drinks it down. The water is cold in his throat. It hits his stomach and does not stop. An empty stomach lets it pass right through to the gut-The work begins there. In the first five minutes, some of the water is already moving-It goes through the walls of the gut and into the blood. The blood starts to move it around the body. His brain gets the message that water has arrived, so the man does not feel so thirsty anymore. But that is only the start.
The rest of the water follows, pulled into the blood over the next hour, the blood gets what it needs-The kidneys get their share. Then the water goes to the dry cells. They take it in slowly-The whole job, from the glass to every cell being full again, takes almost an hour.
Chicken with Olives
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients
- 4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
- Salt and pepper
- Flour
- 2 tablespoons olive oil or vegetable oil
- 1 medium onion, minced finely
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 to 2 cups chicken broth
- 12 Kalamata or other Greek-style or Mediterranean-style olives*
Instructions
- Season chicken with salt and pepper.
- Coat with flour and shake off excess.
- Heat vegetable oil in a wide skillet over medium-high heat.
- Add chicken thighs and cook for 5 minutes; they should be golden.
- Turn the thighs and cook for 5 minutes more.
- Remove chicken to a plate.
- Add onion and garlic to the pan and cook for about 5 minutes, until softened.
- Add chicken broth. Bring to a boil over high heat and add chicken back to pan. Lower heat and boil gently for about 20 minutes, or until chicken is cooked through and the liquid is quite reduced and sauce-like.
- While the chicken cooks, pit olives if necessary. Chop and add to pan.
What forces does China’s military parade aim to give a reminder and warning to?
Show of force.
In reality, China is very reluctant to break out into a full-scale war with the United States.
The two countries bear no blood feud, and they are separated by the vast Pacific Ocean.
But China’s rise has threatened America’s position as global hegemon.
So for a period of time, China was in a very dangerous situation.
China’s strategy was, on the one hand, to channel large amounts of benefits to the U.S., ensuring that there would always be a pro-China faction unwilling to launch war.
(In the famous Chinese historical drama Ming Dynasty 1566, among the top 50 lines voted by Chinese viewers, the number one was: “You are within me, and I am within you; the world’s troubles all stem from this.”)
This line was meant to summarize one of the key reasons for the Ming Dynasty’s downfall: systemic corruption and the binding of vested interests.
But applied to China–U.S. relations at the time, it also seemed somewhat fitting.
Another part of China’s approach was enduring humiliation and constantly showing weakness. To put it nicely, this was Deng Xiaoping’s doctrine of “keeping a low profile and biding one’s time,” but netizens mocked it as “pretending to be a grandson” (i.e., submissive).
In those years, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had a very difficult job, being denounced across the country as weak, and every day receiving “calcium tablets” in the mail (a sarcastic way of saying they had no backbone).
(A Chinese naval rear admiral, well known to the public, once lost control of his emotions on a TV program and wept on air: “Do you know how much humiliation our navy suffered back then?”)
But today, China can no longer rely on this tactic of “you can’t see me.”
Now, it must make a point of showing military strength, to deter U.S. adventurism.
In short: Ten years ago, the U.S. had to feel that China was insignificant, not worth the trouble of waging a preventive war.
Today, Americans must feel: “Better not fight. We can’t beat China anymore!”
We get through this most dangerous decade, the chances of a war breaking out between China and the U.S. will drop sharply.
That’s why I expect this parade will feature many weapons that were previously kept hidden, deliberately not shown so as not to provoke the U.S.—things that might look like “alien technology.”
And perhaps there will be an explosive wave of such displays.
That said, overall I remain very optimistic about world peace.
For one thing, in recent years China has quietly arranged matters so that, in many key military resources, the U.S. cannot do without China.
For example, 98% of the gallium required for the F-35 comes from China—100% of the high-purity kind.
The U.S. military even discovered that parts of the F-35’s blueprints had leaked to China because some subcontractors, trying to cut costs, had outsourced production to China, secretly sending the parts back to the U.S. while pretending they made them themselves.
For another, China is an ancient civilization, weathered by countless storms. The national psyche is relatively mature, knowing well that those who love war are doomed to perish. Aside from being unable to let go of its hatred toward Japan, China harbors few hostile intentions.
(The chart above refers to military mathematics, qualitative analysis: Six years before the outbreak of war, military spending typically surges rapidly. At present, China’s defense spending remains at 1.3–1.5% of GDP, which means the central leadership judges that at least within six years, no world war will break out.
My trust in the CPC’s political wisdom is immense. Since the founding of the PRC in 1949, they have almost never made a major miscalculation.)
I Regret Cheating on Perfect Husband, I’m Poor Now
Since most Chinese are not members of CCP, how do they love the party if this is not even their party?
I am Chinese, not a Party member.
The CPC is different from the U.S. Democratic or Republican parties—it is rooted deeply at the grassroots level.
It reaches into every village, every school, and every factory.
After Mao Zedong reorganized the Red Army, he required every company to establish a Party branch.
According to the Party Constitution, wherever there are three Communist Party members, a Party branch should be set up.
So in theory, even this space station should have a Party branch.
This means that people can always and everywhere see the conduct of Party members—it is pervasive, a 24-hour form of supervision.
Mao Zedong said, “The eyes of the masses are bright as snow.” Whether one does well or not, everyone can see.
According to Chinese tradition, in dangerous situations, in hard tasks, in work that demands sacrifice, in service to the people—such as disaster relief, epidemic prevention, poverty alleviation, education assistance, and so on—Party members are expected to be at the forefront.
And in fact, this has indeed been the case.
I was born on the banks of the Yangtze River. Before enough massive dams were built, floods struck every year. On the most dangerous sections of the levees, flags marked “Communist Party Vanguard Unit” were planted, where Party members held the line.
Behind them came rows of red flags marked “Communist Youth League Vanguard Unit.”
The general public stood in the rearmost line.
(1998: during the most dangerous flood, at the most perilous stretches of the levees.)
Humans are creatures of simple emotions. When the most dangerous front line is always filled with Party members rushing in from all over the country, declaring, “We swear to live and die with the levee!” and “Behind us stand millions of ordinary people!”—it is hard not to support them.
In 1998, we won! (Now there are six dams on the Yangtze River, each the size of the Three Gorges Dam, so no matter how great the flood, we can handle it!)
(When the pandemic first broke out, people were panicked, no one knew what was going to happen. The first medical teams dispatched to Wuhan from across the country were Party vanguard teams.)
(She devoted her life to helping impoverished girls who had dropped out of school. Through her dedication and with society’s support, 2,000 girls were able to enter university, and 172 orphans were rescued.
She recalled that when she first entered the school, the conditions were so harsh that all the teachers had left. There were only eight staff left, and she was disheartened. But when she looked at the employee roster, she saw that six out of the eight were Party members. She said she suddenly felt hope again.
Because they couldn’t afford a Party flag, the six of them painted one on a mud wall and renewed their Party oath. Halfway through reciting it, they were all in tears. Gradually, the school was rebuilt.)
I am not propagandizing or anything like that.
But when so many people support this Party, and considering that in economics, culture, infrastructure, healthcare, and many other areas China has made remarkable progress over the years—there must be reasons for its success.
If this Party, by and large, fulfills its oath to serve the people, then why shouldn’t we support it?
One Night Out on the Lake
Written in response to: “Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.“
Murray Burns
The mystery of the man grew as Marty had no idea what the old man was talking about.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you out here before. Are you from around here?”
The old man laughed.
“Oh, that’s a good one. No, I’m not from anywhere.”
Marty of course found this to be an odd response and thought the old man might have “issues”. And as the watercraft appeared to be only borderline seaworthy, the old man standing on the bow of a rickety wooden boat riding low in the water made him nervous.
“Your boat is a little… different. I didn’t hear a motor, there’s no sail, and…”
Marty peered at the inside of the unusual stranger’s boat.
“…and I don’t see any kind of a battery or electrical device. How the heck is that thing powered?”
“That’s a good question. I don’t know. Not my department. He doesn’t always tell us everything.”
“He? Who is he?”
“If you don’t know who ‘he’ is, you’re in bigger trouble than I thought.”
Marty had little time to digest the comment as the tip of his fishing pole was suddenly yanked downward. He grabbed the pole, and pulled hard to set the hook, but felt no resistance.
“God dammit! I lost it.”
“Watch your language! One more of those, and I might lose you!”
“Listen, nice meeting you whoever you are, but I came out here to fish, so…”
“Same here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m out here fishing too.”
Marty took another quick look at the old man’s boat.
“Uh…you don’t have a fishing pole. How do you expect to catch a fish if you don’t have a fishing pole?”
“I’m a fisher of men.”
Now Marty knew he was dealing with someone not quite right in the head.
“How nice. Look, you should go back to town. You’ll find a lot of them there.”
“You’re telling me? I’ve been there. We’ve all been there, but tonight’s assignment puts me right here. You should feel special. We do a lot of group therapy with regular visits to this world, but this is a very targeted mission. Not everyone gets a one-on-one. You must show promise.”
“Uh…you visit this world? Like you’re not of this world…like an alien or something?”
“Well, we’re normally not called aliens, but I guess you could say that. Yes, I am not of this world.”
Marty thought the guy was nuts, but the boat…the boat that moved without power and seemed to move effortlessly over the water…made him wonder.
“I’m sure this will all seem a little odd to you, Marty, but I hope this turns your life around.”
“Turn my life around? What do you…and by the way, how do you know my name?”
The old man again looked at his notes.
“It’s all right here, Marty…name, tracking, sightings, sins, wandering off the path… I’d show you, but that’s a no-no.”
“My sins, tracking…who are you?”
“Peter.”
“Peter? Peter who?”
“Just Peter. You know, the way they do for really famous people like Elvis or Madonna. Or you could throw in a Simon if you wanted to, Simon Peter. There’s also a nickname I was quite fond of- ‘Rock’. Did you know I was the Rock before the Rock was the Rock?”
A boat that moves without power, sins, a long white robe, Simon Peter, a fisher of men…the light bulb went off. Marty laughed.
“Hey, I went to Catholic grade school. I’ve read the Bible. I get it. You’re supposed to be St. Peter, but you’re a little early for Halloween. It’s only September. The boat’s a nice touch. You’ll have to tell me how you do that. And why practice on me?”
“That’s not funny, Marty. This is serious stuff. Do you want to catch fish or save your soul?”
“Wait a minute. Is this something like those Jehova Witness people coming to your house to preach the Bible? Man, you are really going that extra mile…the outfit, the boat, coming out on a lake in the middle of the night. I got to hand it to you, but I’m all set with the religious stuff, so you can move on to the next house…or boat. Thanks for coming.”
The old man shook his head in frustration.
“They told me you’d be one of those more difficult cases.”
Curiosity made a comeback; Marty had to ask.
“More difficult? What do you mean?”
“Well, take the really evil ones, the bad people. It’s easy to point out how they need to shape up and change their lives. Even they know they shouldn’t be doing what they’ve been doing. The ‘Tweeners’ are more challenging.”
“Tweeners?”
“Yes, you line up like a lot of people, not doing bad things, but not really doing good things. You’re just sort of here. And that’s not acceptable, Marty.”
Marty was getting drawn in.
“And the challenging part?”
“It’s harder to get people to do good things than it is to get them to stop doing bad things.”
As strange as it was for an old man to show up in the middle of a lake in a boat that seemed to move on its own, Marty’s mind was now contemplating the man’s words. Good things, bad things…how did it all fit into his own life? The message sufficiently piqued his interest that he wanted to know more about the messenger.
“Alright, all very good, but you’ve got to tell me who you are and what you’re doing out here.”
“It’s true that I’m not of this world, but I’m not your typical run-of-the-mill alien; I’m not even of this Universe. I am St. Peter.”
The seriousness of the moment slipped a bit as a wry smile appeared on Marty’s face.
“Right.”
“Fine, I run into this all the time. What do you want for proof?”
Marty thought for a moment.
“Well, since we’re out on a lake, how about you do the walk-on-water thing?”
“That wasn’t me, you ninny. And you said you read the Bible. Oh, my goodness, you should have been paying more attention to Sister Martin’s religious instruction in 7th Grade rather than harboring those impure thoughts about Susie Parker.”
Marty’s eyes popped wide open, and he almost fell out of the boat. Sister Martin, 7th Grade, Susie Parker…impure thoughts. The old man nailed it!
“How…how do you know about any of that?”
And as an afterthought to defend himself…
“And I never had impure thoughts about Susie Parker.”
“Right.”
Marty struggled to figure out how the old man knew such things.
“You must know my family or someone who went to school with me.”
“Sure I know them. I know everyone and everything about them. I know everything about you, Marty. Maybe that will convince you. Try me.”
Marty accepted the challenge.
“My favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“Food?”
“Pizza. Come on, Marty, you can do better than that.”
“Ok, my pet turtle’s name when I was a little boy?”
“Speedy.”
“First girl I kissed?”
The old man laughed.
“Well, we know it wasn’t Susie Parker. Angela Jones, ninth grade, in the alley behind Billy Johnson’s house.”
Marty was running out of ways to not believe. He gave it one final shot.
“Biggest walleye I ever caught?”
“Seven pounds, four ounces, and twenty-nine inches. You caught it right here on a red and white silver spoon. It rained that night.”
Marty had no words as he stared at the old man in disbelief.
“Could you maybe do a miracle or two, you know, just to make it more believable?”
“Oh ye of little faith, sorry, I don’t do tricks. I just know things, like the day you copied off Bobby Carlson’s paper on that 5th Grade math test, or how you lied to your Dad about eating all your navy beans, or the times you tried to peek down Susie Parker’s…”
“Ok, ok! That’s enough. I believe.”
“I’m sure this must come as a complete shock to you, Marty, but I am St. Peter, the first disciple, a fisher of men.”
Marty’s head had fogged up. None of this seemed possible.
“Alright, let’s say you are St. Peter. What are you doing out here, and why now?”
“Why not here? Why not now?”
“Ok, then just why?”
“Even if you mistook me for the one walking on water, I have to believe you’ve heard the words, ‘Many are called, but few are chosen.’ Well, Marty, you’ve been called, but you’ve not been chosen.”
“What?! I’ve led a good life. I…”
“Let me stop you there. You’ve led a ‘not bad life’, Marty, not a ‘good life’. A lot of people make that mistake. A ‘not bad life’ does not equal a ‘good life’. There’s quite a gap between the two. But fortunately for you, we’re strong believers in second chances. I mean, Mary Magdeline, the Penitent Thief, Jean Valjean…”
“Jean Valjean? He wasn’t a real person.”
“We cast a wide net. But that’s beside the point. I know I’m going out on a limb here, but do you know this one? ‘Whatever you do to the least of my brothers, you do to me. Whatever you did not do for the least of my brothers, you did not do for me.’ You scored pretty high on the scale of not doing bad things to people, Marty, but you kind of washed out when we looked for the good things you’ve done for people.”
“Wait a Catholic grade school minute. I’ve avoided sin my whole life…well, at least the big ones, the mortal sins I think you’d call them. That’s all they ever said I need to do.”
“That only gets you halfway there, Marty.”
“Well, I’ve done lots of good things, too, like I’ve worked hard and provided for my family. We have a nice house, good cars…”
“I need to stop you again, Marty. Those are things you had to do, the bare minimum. You are obligated to support your family. And the house and cars? Those are for you too, Marty. Let me help you out here.”
St. Peter again looked at his notes.
“I see here…you play softball twice a week in the summer and bowl once a week in the winter.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever coached one of your kids’ T-Ball, baseball, or basketball teams?”
“No.”
“Bingo! Have you always had a nice Thanksgiving feast with your family?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever volunteered to serve Thanksgiving meals at a homeless shelter?”
“No.”
“Bingo!”
“I kind of see where you’re going with this, but could you maybe please stop saying bingo?”
“Certainly. Do you keep your sidewalks clear of ice and snow in the winter?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever shoveled the snow in front of the widow Jenkins’ house?”
“No.”
“Gottcha’!”
Marty lowered his head.
“I guess I’d rather go with ‘bingo’ if that’s alright.”
“Certainly….”
And so it went. St. Peter went through a long list of volunteer activities that would qualify as doing something for the least among us: checking in on sick or elderly neighbors, foster parenting, tutoring a child, adopting a child, Big Brothers, fundraising for charities, pen pal for a prison inmate, Scout Troop leader, pro bono professional services, volunteering at animal shelters, Feed America, blood donor, help out at kids’ sports events, Habitat for Humanity, neighborhood litter cleanup, visiting lonely souls in nursing homes, mow your neighbor’s lawn, and so on. Anyone within earshot might have thought a rapid-fire Church Bingo tournament was going on out on the lake, with a sheepish ‘no’ from Marty followed by a near celebratory response from St. Peter: “no- Bingo!; no- Bingo!; no- Bingo!” When St. Peter set down his list, the score was a disturbing 99 Bingos, 1 Gottcha’, and zero “Attaboys”.
A dejected Marty spoke in a barely audible tone.
“I guess I could have done more.”
“More?! You haven’t done diddly-squat! With your big score on the ‘Don’t-Bee’ table, even the bare minimum on the ‘Do-Bee’ scale would have put you over the top. What have you been doing with your life?!”
“I’m sorry. I wish you…or someone…would have showed up and told me all this a long time ago.”
“Marty, we’ve been here all along. We’ve been talking to you every day. You just weren’t listening. Take heed of the message, Marty. You have time.”
St. Peter’s boat slowly started to turn.
“I have to go. I’m really booked up. We all are. You earth people are keeping us busy.”
“I’m curious. If you’re not of this world, not even of this Universe, where do you go?”
“It would be hard to explain. It’s a place that you could not imagine, but you’d like it there. That’s the best I can do.”
“Will I see you again?”
“See me? No, but I will be able to hear you. And you’ll hear me, Marty, if you’re listening. I’ll be rooting for you.”
St. Peter looked at Marty with a sympathetic eye.
“This is critical stuff, Marty. Do you understand what I’ve been telling you?”
“I do.”
“It’s a big part of why you were put here, Marty, to help others. I’m sure you remember hearing these things as a child- ‘Love thy Neighbor’ and ‘It is better to give than to receive’. Those words still apply, Marty. They will always apply.”
Marty looked at St. Peter, then at the awesome, humbling canopy of stars above, and a hint of a tear formed in the corner of his eye as he measured his place in this world and thought of all the things he had not done in his life.
“I think your heart’s in the right place, Marty. I’m confident you’ll turn it around. Just be more aware of where you may be needed, what you can do for others, how you can fulfill your purpose.”
“I’ll try.”
Marty saw a bright white light in the distance, slowly moving across the lake’s surface.
“Look, Peter, there’s another light out here.”
“That’s my brother Andrew. Like I said, you folks are keeping us busy. Everyone gets a second chance at receiving the message. Do you know anyone who needs a visit?”
Slide Rule for the Modern Day
Introduction: Slide Rule for the Modern Day
More by the author:
Ah the noble slide rule.
Once an staple of the engineer’s tool belt, this form of handheld analog calculator seems to have been forgotten by all but a few. Lurking in the shadows hides a fascinating, elegant piece of technology, a tool able to perform a surprisingly large variety of calculations, all the while exemplifying all the elements of good design.
Even if the slide rule became “obsolete” in the 70s as electronic calculators took their place, I knew that I had to build one myself. Getting a hold of a slide rule is not an issue since you can buy them cheaply on ebay, but I knew I wanted to build one anyway to:
- Learn about what makes good design by totally immersing myself in one example of it
- Challenge myself to recreate an older technology with a modern approach
- Throw myself into a marathon of different manufacturing techniques to force myself to finally learn how to use new tools that might be helpful later in life
So stick around, learn about the slide rule, and even if you won’t build one, there might be plenty of methods and ideas you might be able to apply in your own work!
Step 1: Brief Context on the Slide Rule
As mentioned before, the slide rule is a calculator. By using various scales, a sliding central piece, and a cursor (the outermost sliding piece with a vertical red line), the user can multiply, divide, find cubes, cube roots, squares, square roots, sines, cosines, tangents, reciprocals, logarithms and exponents! Not bad for a couple of sliding sticks.
In the 1900s, companies like Keuffel & Esser, Post, Pickett, and Dietzgen produced many models of slide rules, some of which you can pick up and play with at flea marks and ebay for as little as $5-10. For context, check out the pic above comparing my own slide rule and one made by the Post company in Japan some time in the mid 20th century.
Back in the 1600’s, John Napier publicized the concept of logarithms and their weird but useful properties. You might remember from the high school precalc days that the logarithm function can convert products into sums, and vise versa.
Shortly after Napier’s publication, people noticed that we could exploit that special property and use two parallel rulers to multiply and divide. Above, you can find a diagram I made in TikZ showing how one might go about generating one of the scales, the “C” and “D” scales.
Step 2: The Generating Function
Eventually, new scales were developed that could perform all the other operations I mentioned earlier, each one using a specific function (based on the base ten log, of course). I’ve compiled the “generating functions” I used in my slide rule into a table above in case you’re curious.
The general strategy for coming up with new scales is:
- Plot numbers at the value returned by the generating function
- Realize that two numbers placed across from each other represent setting their returned values equal to each other
- Sliding the central piece represents adding or subtracting values
- Certain equalities between generating functions reduce to useful operations
Above, I sketched out an example that illustrates the concept. Because the C scale has generating function log(x), and the A scale has generation function 1/2 log(x), we use the facts we know to conclude that these two scales in combination have a useful property: we can use them to find squares and square roots.
The mathematical background for all the other scales is complicated (but interesting), but to save you from my endless blabbering about why slide rule math is so great, I’ll restrain myself!
Step 3: Slide Rule Design
The slide rule design has a lot going for it in terms of “good” design:
- Simple & elegant construction of few parts
- Smooth slide and cursor slide action is pleasing to use
- Accurate to around ± 0.2%, enough for applications as involved as some skyscrapers and space expeditions
- If you pay attention, in the iconic Apollo 13 movie you can see slide rules at Mission control AND in the spacecraft itself!
- Teaches user to master concepts of [the infamous] sig figs and orders of magnitude
- Will still work even in the inevitable heat death of the universe since it requires no power
Take time to acquaint yourself and get friendly with all the components of the device, using the anatomy diagram above
Step 4: Tools and Techniques
One of the major goals of this project was to recreate an older technology using modern techniques that would not have been accessible back then. This way, I could push myself to learn a little bit about as many methods as possible that I know I might need later.
Some of the Cool Tools I used were:
- Python
- Fusion 360 (CAD)
- LaTeX
- 3d Printing
- CNC Routing
- Vinyl cutting with Silhouette Cameo
- Metal working, wood working, sewing
I obviously don’t have the facilities to afford all of the tools needed for these, but that’s easily bypassed when you apply the method of befriending lots of people who can help you out 🙂 The world’s filled with resources, whether it’s online forums, youtube, friends, teachers, it’d be a shame to not take advantage of that!
Step 5: Materials Breakdown
These are the materials I used, along with sources:
Body
- 1/4″ walnut wood (Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001DSZY5E/ref=p…)
- 1/8″ aluminum bar stock (Ebay: https://www.ebay.com/itm/3pcs-1-8-x-3-4-Aluminum-…)
- Screws:
- 2-56 x 5/15″ flat head, phillips head (Ebay: https://www.ebay.com/itm/PKG-of-100-2-56-x-5-16-Ma…)
- Printable vinyl sticker sheet (Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ZHTFF44/ref=p…)
- Matte clear vinyl laminate (Vinyl Expressions:https://expressionsvinyl.com/economy-vinyl-laminat…)
- Spray lacquer and superglue (Home Depot)
Cursor
- 3d printed PLA
- Screws:
- 2-56 x 1/8″ pan headed, slot head (Ebay: https://www.ebay.com/itm/2-56-x-1-8-Slotted-Drive…)
- 0.093″ Clear acrylic sheet (Home Depot)
- Red calligraphy ink (Art Store)
Case
- Faux leather, maroon (Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WS8PTNK/ref=p…) - All purpose thread, polyester, black (Fabric Store)
Step 6: Design the Scales
The pattern of scales you see above is a design which was made using a python program I wrote. Originally I wanted to try laser engraving the scales and filling the channels with ink, but I couldn’t access a laser cutter so instead I went with the vinyl sticker route.
Actual slide rules had their ticks cut with a massive machine called an engine divider, one by one, but in the cursed year of 2020, at the very least we have computers to speed up this process.
Pro tip: The home printer has a surprisingly good amount of accuracy! Use this to your advantage.
Before this project, I hadn’t written any major python programs, so this step involved a lot of lurking on stack exchange and the documentation to get some help (but then again, isn’t that what CS people do all day anyway?).
The choice and arrangement of scales I settled on was inspired by many historical slide rules
You can find the full program here, although be warned it’s not very well written since it was only my first large project so I had almost knowledge of good style and efficiency:
javierlopez6466/Slide-Rule: Slide Rule Programs (github.com)
Even though I literally wrote it, trying to understand some older parts is like decoding ancient texts… clearly my commenting and coding organization skills need work!
Step 7: The Program, Deconstructed
Let me explain the general implementation of the program. The idea is, I need to arrange together multiple scales, each one consisting of hundreds of tick marks which are placed according to a the generating function, which I mentioned earlier. The program essentially generates each scale as follows:
- The main program calls “genscale” which references “pat”
- “pat” places a pattern of ticks based on several parameters. It references “puttick”
- The picture above is an old sketch I made to visualize what each of pat’s parameters do
- “puttick” puts a single tick by turning a small block of pixels black
Lots of loops and if else statements let me carefully set up each of the scales to my liking.
At the end, I added on a section to the program that translates the design onto an image which will fit on a 8.5″x11″ sheet for printing.
Is this the neatest way to accomplish the task? Absolutely not. Will actual computer scientists laugh at my implementation? Absolutely yes.
But I’m still pretty darn proud I figured out how to make it all work out, despite knowing so little in the beginning.
Step 8: Make a CAD Drawing
I like to sketch out what I’m going to make in CAD (Computer Aided Design) software before I start so I can have a plan to work with.
Fusion 360 is free for students like me (check out their official website), and there are plenty of resources online to learn the basics so I definitely recommend it. I quickly sketched up the design above, using the insert>decal method to apply the jpeg scale images I generated with the program from earlier, allowing me to see what the final product would look like well in advance.
The middle piece has two slotted sides which fit into channels on the upper and lower pieces. L shaped metal pieces screw hold the two outer pieces together, leaving the center to slide free
The cursor is made up of two side pieces which accept screws, and two larger pieces which hold in the “window”, which is a piece of clear acrylic with a red hairline inscribed in it to help align readings across scales.
Making a CAD drawing isn’t essential in most cases, but it does let me produce the engineering drawings you see above, which were immensely helpful in the building process.
You can find a STEP file here, but be aware that later I had to stretch out some of the dimensions of the cursor parts later on due to 3d printer quirks. This might just be individual to the printer and method of printing unfortunately.
Attachments
Step 9: Cut the Wood Pieces
Walnut is a good sleek looking, durable wood, so I got some pre-planed 1/4″ stock. I don’t have an electric planer and planing stock by hand is REALLY annoying so this was the easiest way.
The pieces are cut to size according to the diagram above.
Step 10: Route the Channels
The middle piece needs two protruding “tongues” which interface with two channels in the side pieces. It seemed the best way to do this would be with the cheapest possible router from Harbor Freight (because routers do be expensive 😐 ) and a 1/16″ straight bit.
Or rather two 1/16″ straight bits because obviously I ended up busting one of them.
I assembled a rickety little jig by clamping some scrap boards onto the table as seen above. Then, the process just involved making many many test cuts and adjusting the horizontal distance and vertical depth of the router until the cuts were adequate.
Making the pieces slide together just right is really difficult because they must:
- Not be so loose they fall apart by themselves
- Not be so tight they can’t be moved
Getting the friction fit right literally depends on a tolerance of tenths of a millimeter. Still, after many failed attempts, some of which may or may not have been chucked across the room, I arrived upon a decent little set of pieces.
Step 11: Sand and Finish the Wood
The wood is sanded using 220 grit sandpaper until smooth, then brushed off thoroughly and coated with 5-7 layers of spray lacquer, applied with several minutes in between each coat.
After letting the lacquer dry one full day, a light sand with 440 grit and a final pass with fine steel wool brings the product to a smooth, satin finish.
This finish is easy and not very time intensive, but gives a good result.
Since sand is bad for your lungs, and because lacquer fumes are probably- definitely poisonous, wear a mask when sanding, and do your spraying outdoors or in a ventilated booth.
Step 12: Cut the Metal Brackets
The metal brackets are made from 1/8″ aluminum stock. I marked out the shape by scribing lines into the metal using a sharp knife, then proceeded to cut just outside the lines using a hacksaw. Yes, I know it’s a “kid’s size” hacksaw but it really does work well for precision work.
Change the blade often since they wear down quickly.
After that, the metal is filed down to the exact size required using a file and a cheapo vice. This whole process was kind of time consuming, so I recommend you settle down with a dust mask and a podcast while doing this type of work.
Step 13: Drill Holes
I then scribed the positions of the three holes using an adjustable combination square (I think that’s what it’s called?) and a sharp knife. I mimicked an awl punch by hammering a random screw lightly into where I needed the hole. That lets the drill bit naturally fall into place. For these screws, to allow a tight pass through fit I used a 5/64″ drill bit on the drill press.
To let the angled head of the screws sit flat into the metal pieces, I followed this with a countersink, using a depth stop to make sure all the countersinks were perfect, not too deep, not too shallow.
Life Hack: Don’t have a countersink bit? Me neither. Just chuck up that 45 degree angle router bit you never use into the drill press and countersink to your heart’s content
Step 14: File the Bevels
I thought the metal would look better and feel smoother with some simple 45 degree bevels on all upper edges.
The sharp corners were taken off once again using the trusty file.
Step 15: Polish the Metal
I don’t know much about metal finishing, so I went with a simple low fuss method.
The pieces were sanded progressively with 180, 220, 400, 600, 800, and 1000 grit sandpaper, moving on to the next grit when no scratch marks from the last grit were visible.
At the very end, a rub down with a pad of extremely fine steel wool (Grade #0000) rounds out the job.
The result is a semi reflective smooth finish. Those more skilled with metal may like to apply a mirror finish, though what I arrived at here is more than good enough for my standards.
Step 16: Drill Holes in Wood
Using the newly made parts, the wood pieces and metal pieces can be lined up in place, and the positions for holes marked on the wood. I once again used the trick of hammering in the end of a screw into the wood to get an awl mark / punch for the hole position.
To hold the parts in the right place while marking the hole positions, a little jig is built and a small piece of wood is used to offset the upper piece just the right amount, since the upper stator is shorter than the other parts and is meant to sit in a certain position.
On the drill press, a 5/64″ drill bit is once again good to allow for a decent grip of the screw threads.
You can go all the way through, since the metal piece on the other side will cover up the holes
Step 17: Print the Scale Decals
To make the scale stickers, I used the print and cut feature on the Silhouette Cameo, a common home vinyl cutting machine my brother bought once and never used again. After swooping in and collecting the machine, I set to learning how to use it.
It turns out, the method is to generate the scales onto an image which fits onto a sheet of printer paper, which is done in python. 677.33 pixels per inch is plenty good for these purposes. The image also includes blue guide lines. You can find the image above.
After importing the image into Silhouette Studio (the software used with the vinyl cutter), we need to trace out each rectangle the machine needs to cut, using the blue guide lines as reference. The blue lines can be deleted later so they don’t print on the sticker sheet. In the picture above, the orange-red lines on the screen indicate where I have told the program I want to cut.
Clearly this process is too complicated to really describe well in one step of an instructables, so I would refer to other online tutorials on how to cut your own stickers with a vinyl cutter.
Important Tip: If you’re ever printing a sticker that has a design that goes all the way to the edge, include a “bleed”. That means: extend the pattern past the cut line, so you definitely don’t end up with annoying unprinted parts on the sticker edges due to imperfect cutting.
Step 18: Cut the Scale Decals
The final design is printed onto a vinyl sheet that has special registration marks – black marks which will let the vinyl cutter know the position of the sheet, so it can cut each sticker perfectly in position.
The sticker sheet is then placed on the cutting mat and cut on the Cameo. For those interested, I found that the following settings were optimal to give a precise cut:
Blade depth: 3, Force: 20, Speed: 2
Brush all the dust off the sheet when it’s done cutting.
At this point I might mention that because the scales are longer than a sheet of paper, I had to make the stickers in sections. Unfortunately, this does mean there are seams, but I tried to put them on blank spots where there wasn’t any design anyway
The seams aren’t that visible, and don’t affect the functionality in any way.
Step 19: Apply the Sticker and Laminate
The easiest way to apply the stickers was to dry fit all the parts and screw on all the metal parts with screws too. Then, each scale is placed, making sure they line up exactly right. Parts of the stickers include holes for the screws.
The idea is, once all three stickers are placed for each face, the clear laminate can be applied, which provides a smooth final layer which also adds a lot of useful scratch and water resistance.
Step 20: Flush Trim
To finish off, the pieces are turned around, and a razor blade is used to shear off the excess, leaving a nice flush edge. For the central piece, the weird angle of the tongue meant that cutting from the up side was easier, though still difficult.
As expected I messed up multiple times. If your alignment is wrong by even 0.1mm the scales don’t line up correctly. If you place the clear laminate where you don’t want it, you can’t peel it back, since it will take with it lots of the printed ink. Etc. But in a moment of pure wisdom, my past self thought it was a good idea to print 2 extras full sheets of the stickers, and so I was able to peel off the failures and replace them.
Making extras of components in general is a good idea.
Step 21: Assembly (Minus the Cursor)
Finally, I assembled the pieces with the metal pieces screwed in, noticed more errors in alignment, corrected them, then once I was satisfied I screwed in the screws once again but with a drop of superglue in the holes.
Super glue in screw holes is by no means a permanent hold, and they can be taken out if you really try. But it does offer a decent hold, preventing the pieces from wiggling loose.
Up next is the cursor, an important part we can’t forget
Step 22: Cursor Design
The design of the cursor is something I came up with after looking at several preexisting slide rules. The red lines in the plastic (or glass) let you compare readings on two scales. The cursor must slide to any position on the scale. Ideally, the fit is tight enough so that it stays in one position when you need to make a reading, but loose enough that it can moved to any position with ease
As you can see, this project is full of those difficult to make friction fits
Anyways, above you can see the CAD model, whose measurements are based off of a sheet of clear acrylic I found at Home Depot.
The spring is a piece of bent metal inserted into one of the side pieces. When the cursor is attached, the metal should flex slightly, providing a gentle force which holds the cursor in one position where it is needed.
Step 23: 3D Print and Process the Parts
Since my neighbor is a master of 3D printing, he was kind enough to produce prints of the parts I needed from PLA plastic. Some refinement was needed to make the fit and look just right.
3D printing is a whole subject, which you can find plenty of information about right here on Instructables.
Raw 3D prints are a little rough, so I sanded them down and drilled out the holes to size since many came out a little small.
Step 24: Window CNC Routing
Though I was originally going to cut the window piece by hand, my neighbor of the 3d printers also had access to a CNC router at the time, and offered to cut the plastic using that.
After one busted router bit (relatable) and a couple trial runs, the machine was able to cut out the plastic to the perfect size, along with a small ledge which helps the piece fit into the 3d print.
Though these machines are expensive, they amount of precision they can achieve is unbeatable, and I’ll definitely be saving up to get them some day, if I have the space for them.
Step 25: Window Hairline
To get the hairline on the window, I found a good method was to scribe a perfectly perpendicular line on the plastic using a razor blade, a ruler, and a steady hand. Then, I filled the cut line with some red calligraphy ink I found lying around, and wiped off the excess on the surface immediately with a paper towel before it dried.
The hairline must be on the surface of the window that touches the scales, otherwise you will get some weird parallax issues. (Meaning, if the hairline is on top, the angle from which you view the cursor will change where the hairline lands on the scales)
A small bit of ink got into scratches I didn’t know existed on the surface of the glass, but I quickly realized they can be wiped away with a Q tip dipped in alcohol since this ink is alcohol based.
Know your solvents!
Step 26: Spring!
The spring was no more than a job for a small pair of pliers and some patience making it fit just right.
Originally I used a stiff piece of wire, but I switched to a piece from a large paper clip because the original wire was way too stiff. Paper clip material is not ideal since it doesn’t have the resilience properties of spring steel, but it does work, and is really easy to work with.
Step 27: Assembly (this Time WITH the Cursor)
At this point, I could assemble the cursor components, after supergluing the spring piece into the hole on one of the side pieces. Eight teeny tiny screws hold the whole cursor together
Step 28: Make a Case Because Why Not?
Most slide rules back in the day came with leather cases. I had a little too much free time and figured I could make one too, to protect the final slide rule.
It might make sense for me to make another instructable on how to do this, since it is a process. For now I’ll briefly summarize.
The material I used was this really nice faux leather which has a maroon dyed leather looking outside and a soft tan backing on the inside, and I used typical black thread.
I came up with the pattern above, which is sewed inside out. A strap placed at 1/1.618 of the length of the case accepts a long flap which closes the case. The upper part of the case has open sides to accommodate the protruding cursor. The corners at the bottom are deliberately curved to account for a weird stretching effect that occurs with this fabric in sharp corners.
The case tends to look floppy when empty because the fabric doesn’t really take to ironing flat, but is the perfect size once the slide rule is placed inside it.
Step 29: Final Thoughts
And so, with a final bit of assembly and fine tuning, the slide rule was done. Although the concept isn’t extremely complicated, many of the steps were frustrating and time consuming since I was using techniques I wasn’t familiar with. Still, I know that by pushing myself to learn, I’ve come out of the project having learned so much, ready to apply the skills later to even more ambitious projects.
I hope you might have gained something too, maybe learned about a new technique, a new tool, gained some inspiration, or even just learned a little about vintage math technology you’ll never need to know!
Long live the slide rule,
Javier
Step 30: Bonus: Calculation Example
In the future, I will see about making a demo video so the slide action and functionality is more visible. Until then, take a look at the example calculation 2 x 3 = 6 to see that the slide rule is just as functional as expected.
Mother Abandons Family To Be A “Pron” Star, 14 Years Later She Back, Wants To Be A Mom Again…NOPE
Pictures
What is your next step in your life?
I’ll write about my next step at the end of this answer, because the next step only makes sense in the context of the previous steps.
Chapter 1: Beginnings in the USA (2014–2025)
In February 2025, I quit my job as a Laser Designer for integrate photonics at Intel after working there for almost 7 years. I quit for two reasons: (1) I achieved all that I set out to achieve, with 3 journal papers and 3 patents which involved new measurement techniques, record-performance devices, and first-ever demonstrations, and (2) I felt the environment, energy, and morale to be weighing on me, as one would expect from a declining power. Furthermore, I viscerally felt all kinds of power (economic, spiritual, moral, etc.) shifting out of the USA, so I did not want to be left in a desert.
This is also seen in the largest semiconductor companies in the USA.
- Intel is bleeding talent, suffers from inexplicably low morale, and missing all roadmaps. The Intel I left was nothing like the Intel I joined, and I am incredibly grateful for my time there. But things change.
- Nvidia is basically only propped up by Wall Street through artificially high share valuations. They outsource the most difficult parts of their product—wafer fabrication and processing
. All they do is design, and Huawei’s designs are not too far behind. China’s recent move to ban/discourage Nvidia chips is another blow, and if anything happens to their relationship with TSMC, it is game over for Nvidia. Your value-add is questionable when you can’t make your own stuff.
AMD falls in this same boat. - Apple is also having a bad time in every segment, and they are fully dependent on TSMC, Foxconn and China for everything. They have taught Chinese companies everything they knew over the past 20–30 years, and now Apple look largely irrelevant in the future. Again, this is because they cannot make their own stuff, while plenty others can design such products if they have access to manufacturers trained by Apple.
I think I caught the end of the great American wave of innovation, with my PhD advisors being pioneers in their fields and knowing the importance of collaboration and of students being aware of every facet of the project—design, crystal growth, fabrication, and testing. All these 3 different groups owned their own areas of expertise, and each of us got to see that and talk to each other because our offices were next to each other
. There were no blackboxes for anyone on the project.
This is the same reason I chose to work at Intel—one company owned the design, fabrication, packaging, and testing. Coordinating and collaborating between teams was easy.
Both these experiences are different from the current trend of outsourcing, offshoring, and remote work, where every team or company is siloed and disconnected from the larger picture.
Chapter 2: The horror of R&D in India (April-October 2025)
I returned to India thinking that the environment here could be better and people more optimistic. I thought I could bring my experience and work with people here to bring up an integrate photonics industry in India, but what I saw was worse than I could have imagined.
India is a low-trust society, so no one is working together. Each professor and university want to be the kings of their tiny tents, so everyone is secretive and collaboration is nonexistent. This is why the state of research is so primitive and uninspiring. No one is doing anything interesting or world-class, because they are fundamentally limited by what one person/team can do. The professors all fight each other for grants, the students are dispirited and unmotivated, and nothing moves forward. But you would not know this if you only read professor’s websites. They will casually drop “state-of-the-art,” “excellence,” and “cutting-edge” while in reality they do not know the meaning of any of these phrases. As far as I could see, they have not made a single device or written a single paper which is “cutting-edge” or world-class. They are too busy trying to be best in India to compete at a global level
.
Then I thought that maybe the private sector has some hope, particularly given the government of India’s new “Semiconductor Mission,” “Make in India” initiative, etc. But this was also disappointing once I realized that the major players getting funding are Tata who make everything from clothes to cars to jewelry, a real-estate company (Hiranandani), and a cement and infrastructure company (L&T)…
That’s when I remembered something about India—that oligarchs rule the roost because they get special privileges from the government. Everything is just a phone call away for them. These large companies will get into any industry for which the government has funding, just to grab the cash. It doesn’t matter that these companies don’t even know the difference between an extrinsic and intrinsic semiconductor, but they will rush into semiconductors just because the government has announced 32749723942 lakh crore gazzilion rupees or whatever. Expertise and passion does not seem to matter to greedy people.
I also realized that the students in India are woefully under-trained, and even PhDs from India mean nothing and have to be fully retrained to do anything useful. But what else can be expected when the professors are lacking in any industry experience, and when there is no industry to raise standards? Engineering is about making useful things, and not only publishing papers, but a strong industrial presence is needed to enforce this philosophy.
I quickly realized that India is in a phase where they believe that quantity can overpower quality—the belief that if you throw enough money and manpower at a problem, you will succeed. My experience of over 10 years in cutting-edge R&D has shown me otherwise. I have seen that a team of even 5 world-class experts can solve problems which teams of 100 or more with infinite money cannot solve. True passion and curiosity can access vistas which are impossible for countless masses of people motivated by fame and money to even envision, let alone conquer. I quickly realized that India is not for me, at least not at this point in time. It is presently all about showmanship and loud proclamations, and less about actually doing anything meaningful. All bark, no bite.
Chapter 3: Adventuring in China (October 2025-)
My wife and I are planning to move to China, where she will focus on traditional textile arts in rural China, while I will get learn martial arts and step up my meditation techniques in temples and monasteries. So far, my mediations have only involved my mind and heart, and I now feel ready to add my body into the mix.
During our travels, I hope to meet some young people whom I can mentor and train to reshape the world once it recovers from the current state of chaos. I will be looking for young kids who have not been corrupted by insecurities relating to money and fame, and who have not been rendered stupid by the use of AI. I would like to prepare them to be the leaders of tomorrow in any field they choose, without any of the bad mental and emotional habits of people in cities, or of older people who have been corrupted/disillusioned by the world. The training I hope to impart will be independent of any specific field because it will relate to how one thinks and processes information to interact with the world, which is applicable to any field the student cares about.
The world is currently in a state of chaos, so there is nothing I can do about it until things cool off, so the best use of this time is to train and nurture the next generation and to work on myself, and an adventure in rural China might be the best place for this. China is a high-trust society and a community-oriented culture, so I can be sure that kids won’t have the general sickness of individualist cultures like the USA and India, so I have good material to work with. My job will be to nurture the individuality and uniqueness in a small set of individuals, who can then provide outsized returns to the collective based on the strength and vision of their individual personhood.
This also presents an opportunity for my own personal growth. I have mastered Fire-bending from my time in the USA, Air-bending from my childhood in India, so now it is time to learn Water-bending in China. I think that some day in the future I shall move to South America to learn Earth-bending. But now is the time for Water.
Footnotes
The Unspoken Rules Cats Expect You to Follow
A fine Kitty cat video.
Why would a navy choose a 20mm Vulcan over a 40mm Bofors for their CIWS if the Bofors has more range and hitting power?
I’ll tell you a dirty little secret: As others have noted, hitting power doesn’t mean much. Hit chance does. And until recently, the only effective way to ensure a high chance of a hit was high rate of fire. The traditional 40mm Bofors has only 1/15th the rate of fire of the Vulcan. For most of the history of CIWS, that just didn’t cut it.
But more importantly, the 20mm system is the most widely used non-Russian/Soviet one out there, and the existing support goes a long way, as does its nearly unrivaled low footprint.
You’re clearly familiar with this guy:
The Mk15 Phalanx CIWS uses a 20mm M61 Vulcan rotary cannon with a rate of fire of around 4500 rounds per minute (75 per second). It has an effective range (against missiles) of just under 1500m.
As to why it had the 20mm? One reason was that it was not only widely used by aircraft, but already in use as an air defense gun:
The M163 VADS had been around for nearly a decade by the time the Phalanx started development, and was the standard AA gun for the US and several client countries. There was also a towed version. By using an existing AA gun, both development and logistics were helped immensely.
Now, some people actually did think this was a bit weak, and while the Phalanx was still in development, the Dutch opted to try for something a bit, well, bigger:
Yes, it’s the famous gun from this:
Upping the ante, the 30mm GAU-8A Avenger from the A-10 attack aircraft was chosen instead. Its rounds weigh about 3.5 times as much as the 20mm. With similar muzzle velocity, the Avenger hits about 3.5 times as hard as the Vulcan.
The result of the project was this:
The Goalkeeper CIWS actually debuted before the Phalanx, and fires its more powerful rounds at a still-impressive 4200 rounds per minute (70 per second). With high-end ammunition, it has over 30% greater range than the Phalanx (2000m), though it’s typically rated as about the same (1500m).
However, the Goalkeeper weighs about 50% more, and requires below-deck support like a traditional naval gun, whereas the Phalanx, and this is a huge advantage, is completely self-contained and can be bolted onto any piece of deck or superstructure that can support it. Or even on trucks:
You can’t do that with Goalkeeper. And this means countless ships that can’t mount a Goalkeeper can mount a Phalanx. In fact, very few CIWS systems are truly self-contained like Phalanx is (that’s a big selling point!).
Furthermore, while often more effective, it was found that in most situations where the Phalanx was inadequate, so was the Goalkeeper. Hence the move to an even longer-ranged CIWS system:
Yes, a lot of navies are opting for systems like the RIM-116 Rolling Airframe Missile. which also has one of those few self-contained systems for smaller vessels:
They have up to 10 times the range of even Goalkeeper, and several times the firepower of any AA round. Well, they also cost several times more per kill. But you get what you pay for.
And the Bofors? Well, it actually did get a CIWS (eventually):
The Italian DARDO provides a twin-40mm Bofors L/70 gun mount. While not completely self-contained, it is similar to Phalanx in that it can be placed in any location with sufficient space and support (though there are versions with below-deck support). 2 variants of the gun are available: 1 with the standard rate of fire of 300 rounds per minute and one with an improved 450. This is per gun, so the total is 600 to 900 (10–15 per second). Single-barrel versions also exist.
In theory, the lower rate is compensated by the weapon’s air bursting shells. This works similar to the missiles previously shown, and is based on the idea that one does not need to completely destroy the missile if it’s hit far enough out – just damaging sensors or control surfaces can cause it to miss or crash into the sea.
According to what I’ve seen, DARDO appears to work fairly well. But, while the basic 40mm naval mount has been around for decades, it’s only with recent improvements in computerized fire control that it’s become truly competitive as a CIWS. Until recently, accuracy at long range just wasn’t adequate to make up for the lower rate of fire. Despite a range of 4000m (twice the Goalkeeper’s), and proximity-fused air-bursting shells, it still had a very limited engagement window, and the main advantages disappeared at distances closer than 700m since direct hits were far less likely.
But, the biggest reason for Phalanx over DARDO is that self-contained nature. The second is its already wide proliferation that makes it easier and more cost effective to integrate and support.
EDIT: added some relevant info on the 20mm gun’s prior history as an air defense weapon.
Collision
Written in response to: “Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.“
⭐️ Contest #210 Shortlist!
Anya Dylan
The pitchy squeal of badly maintained brakes and the crash of chassis on curb alerted supplicants of the Tor Vah’Gaar. They streamed out of their temple to investigate, their white ceremonial robes billowing in the morning wind.
Dysus sat still, his hands locked in grip around the wheel as if he meant to strangle it. He wished he could let go and light a cigarette, but that would mean he’d next have to open the door, step into the morning, and face the red squeezed-tube of a body on the road behind him. Would it be wet, steaming in the frigid air? Was his car heavy enough to squelch organs from orifice, or would he find less messy blunt force trauma? He pictured dirty tire tracks on a crushed throat. Might the man still be alive?
It was that thought that loosened his grip and allowed him to move, sludgy slow, on shock-cocooning autopilot. He reached for his cigarettes and felt a flood of relief when he found that two smokes remained in the worry-crumpled package. His hands were steady when he lit one.
He got out of the car and watched the white robes flock to the stillness in the street.
A woman stood over the body and cried, while another tapped off a message on her handheld. A man knelt, the pristine hem of his robe drawing road dust up through fabric capillaries. He reached for the body with tentative, gentle fingers.
They all saw the gun at the same time.
It had been knocked several feet from the dead man. A scratched-up bootleg particle cannon. Tech from an old empire, illegal and devastating, primed and still pointing at the temple of Tor Vah’Gaar. Dysus thought ridiculously of that old game, spin the bottle.
He sat on the curb and smoked, not wanting to bother the Vah’Gaarans with his stink, not wanting to yellow their robes with his residue. Sirens wailed, melancholy and distant, approaching via the Magway.
The crying woman ran back toward the temple, calling a name in an alien language as she flitted inside. “Baaraana!”
Realization of their narrowly-escaped victimhood widened the eyes of the Vah’Gaarans on the street. Shock ran through them like a contagion, vulnerability dawning like a weak sunrise. They stepped away from the body, their eyes on the gun as if it might come to life and shoot them on its own.
More Vah’Gaarans exited the temple, joining the congregation that formed in the road, keeping a safe distance from the downed would-be gunman. They discussed in hushed voices, asked shrill questions of each other, and gradually their attentions diverted to the silent, smoking man sitting on the curb by his ruined car.
The man with the dirty hem approached Dysus and crouched.
“Sir,” the Vah’Gaaran said. “Sir, are you alright? Are you injured?”
Dysus blew smoke away from the man’s intent, searching face. “Don’t think so.”
“Don’t think you’re alright, or don’t think you’re injured?”
Dysus blinked. “Both, I guess.” He wanted to laugh. He’d killed a man. He would not be making his appointment.
“He saved us!” A woman rushed over, the one with her handheld out, the one who’d presumably summoned the emergency vehicles that were now speeding down the Magway’s off-ramp onto the Rue. Blue and red lights spun halos in the morning fog around them. Sirens muffled the increasingly frantic voices of the Vah’Gaarans as their attentions closed in on Dysus.
He stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete and pocketed the butt. He didn’t want to litter in front of these pristine, holy people. Saviors have to keep up appearances, he thought.
Admiration was foreign to Dysus and at first he mistook it for suspicion.
When the responding officers were finally able to pry him away from the Vah’Gaarans, the media, and the tangle of emergency vehicles, they took him to the police station and parked him in an interrogation room. They gave him a cup of hot chocolate. They shook his hand. Short, neatly groomed Officer Kayata led him outside to smoke when he requested it, though she wrinkled her nose while she waited for him to finish.
He caught a glint at her throat, noticing the stylized Tor Vah’Gaaran saucer pendant she wore on a delicate chain. An icon of worship, veneration of the alien hands that cradled Earth, mending it from its human-inflicted wounds.
“You should really stop that,” she said, squinting her eyes against the smoke as he exhaled. “It stinks.”
They’re my lungs and I’ll ruin them if I want to, he thought. He narrowed his eyes at her pendant. Not that you’d understand.
Officer Kayata took a call on her handheld, walking a few yards away as Dysus blew smoke into the still-cold early afternoon sky.
“This is about to get a lot bigger,” she warned him as she strode back to him, her call concluded. “A Tor Vah’Gaar ambassador was supposed to be at that temple today.” She maintained her professional demeanor, but Dysus didn’t miss the sparkling hint of tears at the corners of her eyes.
Back in the interrogation room, Dysus sat on his hands to both hide their trembling and warm them up. Officer Kayata brought him another hot chocolate and sat primly in the metal chair across the table from Dysus. Fluorescent lights clicked above, probing and harshly bright, the better to scrutinize you with.
“This is just a formality.” Officer Bosqov, gruff and bushily mustached, shuffled incident reports and witness statements on the metal table. “You’re not in any trouble, we just want to get our facts straight. As you can imagine, the entire Vah’Gaaran community stands behind you. You told him about the ambassador?” Officer Kayata nodded. “They’ve offered their best lawyers but I don’t think you’ll need them. They’ve also set up a donation hotline.”
Dysus clenched his stomach against the tide of bile that threatened to rise. He wanted a cigarette, but his pack was empty. He felt the deprived addict’s headache peeking around the corner, waiting to ambush.
Officer Bosqov’s voice took on a serious tone, and he asked the question Dysus had been dreading.
“Where were you headed when you saw the gunman?”
Dysus swallowed, pausing for a moment too long.
“Going to the doctor. My lungs,” he said, freeing a hand unconsciously to reach for the empty pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He thumped a tightly closed fist on his chest. He thought a cough might be too much, too performative.
“Will your doctor verify that?” Bosqov clicked a pen, made a note.
“I was hoping they’d see me as a walk-in. I was coughing up blood last night.”
“I see,” Bosqov said. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his mustache as he regarded Dysus. “Now, I know this might be hard to talk about and you’re probably still in a bit of shock. But I need you to describe what happened again, with all the detail you can remember. Start with when you first saw the man on the street, what caught your attention, and what made you act. Again,” he said, his eyebrows raised with kind concern, “you aren’t in trouble. Fact is, you’re a hero whether you see yourself as one or not yet. You prevented what could have been an absolute massacre. That gun was modded and energized to Gaar and back. You saved a lot of lives. But we need to get everything on record.”
Officer Kayata twisted the Tor Vah’Gaar pendant she wore, her expression thoughtful, thankful. Dysus tried to keep from hyperventilating.
He cleared his throat. He spun his tale. He’d seen a furtive, suspicious man crossing the street, with hunters’ eyes narrowed and predatory, a gun hefted and steady, striding with obvious, murderous intent toward the temple. Dysus told the officers how he’d accelerated without hesitation, careening for the terrorist without fear for his own life, steering to kill and damn the consequences, it was the right thing to do! He had been out of his body, righteous instinct taking over, and all he’d felt was relief when the man’s rampage was aborted under his balding tires.
He’d almost convinced himself the story was true, until he found himself absentmindedly scratching the blister on his left elbow.
Vivette, the Vah’Gaaran PR representative, was a harried woman with two briefcases and a shaved head. She wore glasses and chewed gum like it fueled her, and her frantic productivity agitated and exhausted Dysus. He tried to pay attention to the several trains of thought she conducted.
“Tor’Baaraana will want to join you for some press conferences,” she said, typing a proposed media circuit schedule on a shiny laptop. She checked the official Vah’Gaaran forums. “Four independent congregations set up charity pools to cover any legal expenses. Gifts are coming in from all over the place. Is there any weird stuff about you online that I should know about?”
“I don’t think so,” Dysus said. He sipped tepid coffee and forced himself to take a bite of his rubbery omelet.
Vivette had wanted to meet him at his home, “to make you feel more comfortable, and for privacy”, she’d said, but he suspected she’d really wanted to scope out his situation and avert any potential PR crises before publicly canonizing him into the Vah’Gaaran sainthood. He’d refused, citing embarrassment about his messy bachelor’s apartment. She’d looked at him suspiciously, but had caved and met him at a cafe downtown. Time was of the essence for a story like this, she said. Already his face was plastered across screens and papers, his full name emblazoned in impact font under epithets like ‘The Hero of New Hartford’ and ‘A Savior’s Savior’.
Vivette checked a text message on her handheld, an email on her laptop, a notification on her watch. Information about Dysus assaulted her while he watched, tapping a nicotine-withdrawal beat on the table with his fingertips.
“Oh look, the Massippi branch got you a new car.” She turned the laptop around and showed Dysus a photo of grateful, white-robed zealots smiling next to a state-of-the-art Magcar. Dysus sneered. He hated those identity-stripped husks of bland futurism.
“You don’t like it?” She asked, catching his expression before looking down to respond to another text message.
“If I’d had one of those today, I wouldn’t have been there to run down Corsican.”
Trent Corsican, the other face of the day, the lone terrorist with a grudge against the benevolent aliens and their worshipers. A Regressivist with a raided apartment full of heretical literature and Macgyvered weapons. Dysus couldn’t picture the man’s face as having belonged to the body he’d smeared on the road. The visage and the corpse felt like two different men. Dysus felt like two men as well: the one who’d been anxious about an appointment earlier, and the paragon of righteous bravery he’d become.
He needed to get home. He had to clean his apartment.
“It is a bit ironic, isn’t it. The Tor Vah’Gaar give us MagTech and then you go and save them with that pollution machine relic. Oh, your ‘Reward a Hero’ fund is up to seventeen million credits,” Vivette said with an uncharacteristic awe.
“Wow.”
“I’ll say.” She narrowed her eyes. “How do you feel about joining a Vah’Gaaran chapter? It’s a great organization. And it would look great.”
Dysus clenched his teeth.
“I guess I could do that,” he said, thinking of seventeen million credits. He felt a piece of his principles snap off inside him.
“Great. A conversion might seem pandering if we do it too soon…” She checked her calendar for a good baptism date.
“Okay.” He really needed to get home to clean.
“And you’re going to need to stop smoking.” Vivette gave him a disappointed mother’s face. “It’s terrible optics and it smells awful.”
And it’s bad for me, I know, Dysus thought, and he’d never wanted a cigarette more.
He pictured himself smoking in his new Magcar. The two versions of himself, collided. The rebel and the hypocrite.
Is there anything so sacred as a being’s right to self destruct? Dysus wondered as he finally lit a cigarette. The smoke collected in the dark room, his comforting blanket of reckless autonomy.
Dysus had waited for the MagCab to pull away before unlocking the door of his apartment. He’d wondered how many more times he’d go through that familiar motion; he was now the owner of sixty million credits and could already taste the fresh air of a new settlebloc, a skyscraping penthouse with windows that opened to let in the cleanest clouds.
It was dark, the grimy settlebloc quiet, secured for the night against the scavenger sects. Dysus had slipped inside the apartment already feeling estranged from it, a trespasser, and he’d locked the door behind him quickly. He’d gone straight for his stash of smokes, navigating the clutter without needing to turn on a light.
He sat now on a ratty couch full of cigarette burns. He touched the circle on his elbow. “We match,” he said out loud, and laughed. He thought of the new couch he’d buy. Something soft, pillowy, something not pulled from a dumpster, something he might try to fall asleep on without a lit cigarette between his fingers.
Maybe it would be nice to live in the world the Tor Vah’Gaar race was trying to build.
Dysus exhaled, and he couldn’t see the smoke in the darkness. He never felt the drags as effectively when he couldn’t see the evidence of them; he saw emissions as proof of life. Was a sterile world a lived-in world? He’d believed destruction was inevitable, and more insidious if hidden.
He coughed. It was too dark to see any blood.
Maybe it was good he’d missed his appointment.
He imagined his beautiful, freshly painted penthouse again, then he thought of its opposite: a run-down safe house in a derelict settlebloc across town, sitting empty. He hadn’t had a chance to give the houses’ rusted key to Corsican; it was still nestled in his pocket alongside a pamphlet containing encrypted contact numbers, meeting coordinates, and credit stash codes. He’d lusted after the assassination bounty before, but now it seemed pathetic, an insult. Hardly enough to rise from ashes with.
A getaway driver was supposed to provide a new life, but not for themselves. He wondered if the Tor Vah’Gaar ever felt that way, rerouting a civilization from its path of shit, finding themselves Gods when they finished.
“Sorry, brother-in-cause.” Dysus raised a fresh cigarette in salut. “To new lives.”
He lit the cigarette, wondering if it would be his last, and used the same flame to burn the Regressivist pamphlet.
Why is China embracing pariah status by supplying Russia with what it needs in wartime in return for cheap oil?
China does business equally with any country that is willing. In fact, China is the largest buyer of Russian oil and gas. But at the same time, China is also the biggest buyer of Ukrainian grain. You may not know this, but when it comes to Ukrainian drones—maybe not 100%, but about 98% of them either come from China or are assembled using Chinese components.
China has already made its stance very clear: we are not aiding Russia—otherwise, the war wouldn’t look the way it does now.
Is it really wrong to sell civilian goods to Russia?
Oh, by the way—70% of the nitrocellulose used in the artillery shells Western countries are sending to Ukraine is produced in China.
The most amusing part is that the Secretary General of NATO once blatantly said, “First deal with Russia, then focus on China.” (That video is now hard to find on any website, but I truly saw it myself—he probably regrets saying it.)
In response, a Chinese netizen commented:
I feel Europeans are approaching this with a kind of childish naivety—thinking that just by saying something, others are obliged to obey. And if not, they start whining and throwing tantrums.
Frankly, my child stopped doing that after turning 6.
More importantly, even when my child throws a tantrum—it sometimes works!
Well then, here’s another idea.
Does this place look familiar?
Probably not. Let me tell you: over a hundred years ago, the British and French forces landed here, marched on Beijing, and then burned down our grandest imperial garden.
Want to try that again? Just make sure to bring more people this time.
This is one of our brigades. Currently, there are 89 active units. All of their funding combined only uses 1.3% of our GDP.
If you come with too few troops, I’m afraid there won’t be enough to go around.
~~~~~~
Let me make this clear: Europe’s little scheme is nothing more than hoping the war escalates so both China and the U.S. get involved, right?
That’s not going to happen. The U.S. isn’t stupid!
As for China—if Russia starts to falter and the U.S. still stays out of it—China will definitely step in.
Would 10 million drones be enough?
Even if troops are sent, it would be a fast in-and-out operation. By the time the other side realizes what happened, China’s forces would already be back home. It might not even require ground troops—just long-range firepower. (Our rocket artillery can hit targets 600 kilometers away.) We could rely on missile forces or the air force.
What do the EU leaders have inside their skulls? Coca-Cola?
Americans Can’t Afford To Live in Florida Because Insane Cost of Living
If you are about to get in a fight, what is your opening intimidating line?
Not my opening line but an all time great one from my long time karate instructor in a dangerous situation he faced.
He was about 6′3″ and 220 pounds of all muscle. He’d served as a US Army Ranger in Viet Nam. He was a 7th degree black belt and had won championships at the state, national and international level.
One afternoon he was alone in his dojo when three big, young gang-banger type guys walked in.
Sensei asked if he could help them.
They asked if he owned the place and he replied that he did.
One of them asked, “So are you pretty tough?”
Sensei replied, “I guess so.”
The one continued, “Well, we think we’re tougher than you.”
Sensei replied, “You guys are big and together you might be tougher than me.”
The leader continued, “So if we whip your ass then we’ll own this place?”
Sensei replied, “No that’s not how it works.”
They stared at him and he stared at them.
Then Sensei calmly said, “You might beat me but I will kill at least one of you. So if it’s worth dying today go ahead.”
They looked at him, then at each other, turned and walked out.
And to save anyone from asking, yes, he would have killed at least one of them.
I guess it wasn’t worth dying that day.
Curried Chicken over Orange Rice
Ingredients
Chicken
- 1/2 stick butter, divided
- 1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts
- 5 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 1/2 tablespoons finely grated ginger root
- 1 or 2 teaspoons curry powder
- 2 3/4 cups canned evaporated milk
- 1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice
- 1/4 cup dry white wine
- Salt, to taste
- White pepper, to taste
Orange Rice
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 1/2 cup finely chopped onions
- 1 cup water
- 1 cup fresh orange juice
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup converted rice
- 1 1/2 tablespoons grated orange zest
Condiments to pass at the table
- Raisins
- Minced scallions
- Diced apple
- Chopped candied ginger
- Chopped sugared dates
- Chopped dry roasted peanuts
- Toasted coconut
- Chutney or Jalapeño-Cranberry Jam
Instructions
Chicken
- Place half the butter in a large skillet and melt it over medium high heat.
- Cut chicken into chunks about 1 1/2 inches square and add to the pan. Let it brown lightly on the bottom before moving it.
- Turn pieces over and brown the other side.
- Remove to a platter and set aside.
- Add remaining butter to the pan. Stir in flour, ginger and curry powder and cook until bubbly and smooth.
- Gradually stir in undiluted milk, lemon juice and wine.
- Add salt and pepper to taste.
- Add cooked chicken back to the pan and cover. Turn heat very low to barely simmer. If it gets too thick, stir in a little water.
Orange Rice
- Melt butter in a saucepan.
- Add onions and cook until tender but not browned.
- Add remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil, then turn to simmer and cover. Allow to cook about 20 minutes or until all liquid is absorbed.
- Remove lid and let stand for 5 minutes before serving as a bed for the curried chicken.
If gambling is a game of probability, why aren’t mathematicians the richest people in the world?
This person is Chris ”Jesus” Ferguson.
Ferguson, whose parents are both mathematicians, holds a doctorate in information engineering from the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). He has developed his own playing style in poker. That’s entirely due to mathematics and “theory of the game” (a field of research that mathematically analyzes the decision-making process of multiple actors), rather than reading other players’ hands. He uses computer simulations to test and develop strategies.
What do you think Ferguson’s total winnings as a professional poker player are? 9,241,683 dollars (approximately 1.3 billion yen). In the World Series competition, where professional poker players compete, they have won five championship bracelets (equivalent to boxing championship belts), including the premier competition, the Main Event (played only by the best players).
Whoa,but he’s still not a (dollar) billionaire,you say?
Now let’s move on to the world’s largest gambling den. It’s Wall Street.
This is James Simons.
Simons earned a doctorate in mathematics from the University of California, Berkeley, and had an illustrious academic career.
In his 40s, he left academia and started a hedge fund called Renaissance Technologies. He is a pioneer in using probabilistic methods for financial investment.
The fund he manages called Medallion has generated staggering annual returns of 72% over 20 years, making Simons one of the world’s richest people. He remains the highest-paid hedge fund manager in the world for seven～eight consecutive years. Basically, he’s the richest gambler in the world.
The Phantom Planet (Sci-Fi, 1961) Dean Fredericks, Coleen Gray | Movie
Classic old SF. Have fun you all.
