Day: March 29, 2026

(Repost) From then to now; how my unrelenting sequence of prayer & affirmation campaigns changed my life. (duplicate)

Oh boy! Buckle up!

One of my friends, in casual conversation, asked me (while talking about prayer campaigns and affirmations) what all the changes were like, for me, after over four decades of prayer / affirmation campaigns.

And I read what she asked of me, and I’ll tell you truthfully, I just leaned back in my chair and stared dumb-founded at the screen. Oh, yes. Things have really changed. They really, really, REALLY have changed. I just never really thought about it that way.

But… yeah.

And yeah…

It’s complicated.

Our experiences change us.

My role in MAJestic changed me.

My relationships with others changed me.

The culture sand society changed me, and all kinds of influences shaped my life.

And if you take one such influence out, I would be a completely different person.

Life changes you.

And, I’ll tell you what, four decades of life is gonna change you.

It’s one thing to live life, and sway in the wind, guideless and directionless. Like some clothing hung on a clothes line to dry. But it’s another thing to pilot an ocean steamer, blind in the dark, dark night trying to make it to paradise.

Since I left the Navy, and entered MAJestic, my entire life has been that of directed prayer / thought / affirmations and intention.

In fact, what I am trying to say is that without the prayer / affirmation campaigns I would not have had so many changes. Without my role in MAJestic, I wouldn’t have been exposed to so many things, ideas and changes. And all things taken together as a whole, I have to admit… life, and experiences are all intertwined with affirmation campaigns.

Do. Not. Assume.

That.

I. Would. Be.

What. I. Am. Today.

Without. Prayer. Campaigns.

Don’t make that assumption. It’s a foolish and stupid assumption. I attribute my material wealth, the quality and quantity of life, and my experiences are all a direct result of my personal prayer affirmations that I have conducted for over four decades.

My current life, and lifestyle is the direct result of my prayer affirmation campaigns.

For Starters

Let’s begin with answering the question.

What changes do I have in my life right now, compared to the life that I had in the 1980's?

Well, since I started the affirmation campaigns in the late 1980’s. We will begin there. Let’s use the starting point where it’s a few years after my calibration and training at China Lake NWC outside of Ridgecrest, California.

At that time, I had left the Navy and MAJestic told me to “make a living and live life”, and so I found work in an automotive electronics company in central Indiana.

So we will use that as the initial baseline. We will refer to that period of time, say middle to late 1980’s as the comparison subject. And on the other end, we will compare it to my life, right now today.

The differences are stark. And i have never really thought about things in that way. So it kind of took me back a little.

So thinking about all this, I ended up pausing. Contemplating.

At which point, I made this little picture…

.

Indeed, you just cannot assume that every single office dweeb that working in the monstrosity work environments of the 1980’s are now big powerful bosses. You just cannot say that this is what happens, that everyone follows a career and that they naturally rise up. It’s been my personal experience that I was the outlier.

My co-workers from those days pretty much “bailed out” of that environment after maybe four or five job layoffs. Many are now retired or wrapping up their own (much smaller) self-employed businesses, or are running consultancies, or teaching. Very, very few are as “successful” as I am.

As if “success” is a universally understood concept.

Everyone is different, and life has a way of grabbing you “by the balls” and give you “a few knocks in the head”, in order to “straighten you out”. And as a result, you end up changing. You become a different person.

I like to think that many of my former co-workers are doing well. They are certainly doing and living life different than I am. But one man’s ideal, might be another man’s nightmare.

Who’s to say that my life is “better” than theirs are?

You cannot.

Instead, you have to judge “success” on the basis of the individual. AND STOP COMPARING yourself to others. Instead, we will compare myself to myself. And if we do that, we can see the relationship that time, and intention has over my own personal life. And that, my friends, might be illustrative… and I hope… inspiring.

You should be able to see things…

You should be able to see that my overall attitude is quite different. The feelings of helplessness compared to the feelings of raw power that I hold today are beyond compare. But it is more than that. Much more.

There used to be a song (in the 1970’s), and while I have long since forgotten the name of the song and who sang it, the lyrics went something like this…

"Life is what you make it...
...if you can take it...
...you don't have to break it...
...life is what you make it."

Well…

Is my life “better” than it was four decades ago in the 1980’s working in the States? Am I living a fantastic life? How does my life compare now? Can it be attributed to intention prayer campaigns, or to something else? Like coincidence?

First off, let’s see if my life can be judged as a “success” compared to what it was four decades ago. But, we have a problem. What actually is “success”?

Judging by money and wealth

If you judge a man, or anyone, or me (even) by the amount of money that I have then I would be classified as a failure. I have restructured my life so that I do not have any money, nor savings accounts, nor credit accounts, nor any tangible means to equate personal value with my monetary wealth.

  • No bank accounts.
  • No legal ownership papers in my name.
  • No “paper trail” of employment.
  • No credit rating.

An investigator would find me a very boring subject. I don’t have anything. And that includes money. So under these terms, I would be classified as an abject failure. This is absolute, in those specific terms.

Of course, Heh heh, what do you all think an ex-spook would look like? You think that we would be on the grid, and monitored like some kind of common criminal, felon or hoodlum.

Judging by number of children

Some people view success as the ability to father the most children as possible during their lifetime.

I have met many ethnic youth in America, and some SA’s that feel this way. They talk about their “baby mama” and how they have 12, 14, or 16 of them. This single unemployed African American man impregnating 16 women, but not being a father to any children. Some people define that as success.

I don’t.

But if you did, then the king of this effort would be Genghis Khan.

And yet again, I would be considered a failure by those lofty standards. There’s a very precious few metallic-babies walking round in this world today. And I for one, think of this as a good thing. I’m not a mass-production baby-making factory. Don’t you know.

I do not have a long train of children crying for their daddy, or a a zillion courts demanding the garnishment of my pay checks.

I think that it is a good thing, but other people might not consider this a “successful” life.

Judging by appearance

Some people, most especially those in the 20’s judge others by appearance. If you are attractive, or cart around an attractive wife (or two) on your arm, and drive a nice expensive car, and wear the most stylish and trendy clothes, you are considered to be successful.

I know how it works.

And then you have a kid, and your priorities change. Or you get locked into a career, and things change further. Or, that you start having obligations, and your children need braces, school books and they want a pony. Oh, it is amazing how these criteria change so rapidly.

Yah. Well, but these criteria I too would still be considered a failure.

I dress fine, and wear nice comfortable clothing, but I don’t own or drive a Ferrari. In fact, my days of driving a care are pretty much sunsetted. Let others deal with the headaches, and the hassles. Just take me where I need to be, and be done with it, Sir.

Truthfully, I happen to like being driven around by my driver, and I really don’t care what people think about the car that I am riding in. As long as it is big and roomy and fits my personality, I am fine with it. I like the door being opened for me, and the driver and my aides buckling me in. I like it when they say “you can take a nap, sir, it’s going to be a couple of hours”. And I like it when we arrive at the destination and they stand outside ready for my calling.

Now, it's true that a Maybach is certainly something that I would enjoy riding in, but the price tag is not something that I believe is worthy of consideration.

Yet, to others, judging by this kind of criteria, I do not appear to be a very successful and wealthy businessman. I don’t have fine expensive sports cars to flaunt and to rev up the engines with.

Judging by physical attribute

Many, many people judge others by their appearances. And while I just covered the appearance of wealthy people, here, we can talk about physical beauty and their attractiveness towards the opposite sex.

Physical appearance.

For women it might be big boobs, Big hair, Big ass, or long legs, long silky hair, clear complexion, or a naturally curvy backside. And, for men it might be a big dick, a full set of hair, impressive pecks or something else… like a enormous wallet.

All this is silly.

By these criteria, I’m just so-so. I am average. Pretty much.

A big cock.
Here’s a guy proudly showing his big cock for the whole world to see and be amazed by.

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Now, truthfully, if I were to improve my appearance it would be to slim down my waist some, clean up some of my wrinkles and thicken my hair a tad. There are a precious few people who are completely satisfied with their appearances, and there are entire product segments that capitalize on this fact.

I wouldn’t touch my penis. It’s big enough, thank you. I want to be comfortable with myself. And when I am, I am naturally happy and light, and I radiate.

This is real and true attractiveness.

I strongly believe that if you take care of your body. Fill it with fine delicious food, smile and laugh a lot and ignore the sad, doom and gloom others that surround us, that you will do fine. Just be clean, and if that means taking three showers a day, then do it. A happy, scrubbed clean, cheerful person who is open and friendly is amazingly attractive to a wide range of people.

But, you know…

Since there are so many things that are desirous of improvement, you could also say that I am pretty much a failure in those areas. I am not the most handsome man in the world. I’m just an older man. And I pretty much live that role.

Judging by experience

Ah. Now this is something that I am proud to say that I am worthy of judgement. Few people have experienced the wide ranging and comprehensive diversity of experiences that I have had. Very few. Perhaps Sebastian has.

And there is so much more open to experience…!

And I argue that this is a good thing. As the more experiences that you have, the more quantum associations you make. And thus the more quantum bonds and entanglements, the more you grow.

Ah…

But it doesn’t make for “good television” or movies. Don’t you know.

So what’s the deal?

Indeed. So what is “the deal”?

Well, you are not in competition with anyone. So there is no need to be or become “the best”.

What you want is a suitable, and comfortable life that fits YOUR personality, not that which is provided to you via the American media.

And. That. Is. It.

  • Do not use the media as a yardstick for success.
  • Your goal should be to be the best you as possible, and live the life that you deem fit.

You need to find out what you like, and the kind of life that holds meaning for you, and then you need to set your prayer campaign in motion to obtain those goals and objectives. And for me, I am very sad to say, that this understanding and realization did not occur immediately. It developed over time.

Ugh. And what you see now is not the pristine result of four decades of planning and implementation, but rather the result of a back and forth, mish mash, of attempts and direction-seeking prayer / affirmation campaigns trying to discern the best fit lifestyle for myself to adopt.

But, all in all, I think that I’m pretty darn close.

Let’s look at the changes the affirmation campaigns have brought about.

Well, right off the bat, you have seen the differences in my work / career. It’s pretty dramatic, I’ll tell you what. I studied to become an astronaut, trained as a Naval Aviator, worked as an engineer, lived as a hobo, toiled in prison, and now am a Boss out of necessity.

Life can have many twists and turns, don’t you think?

Living Environment

Let’s start with the house and living environment.

Back in the late 1980’s, I was working as an engineer inside a massive electronics corporation, owned by GM, and modeled after the work environments in Silicon Valley. They constructed these facilities in the middle of nowhere; Kokomo, Indian and all the top tier of management snagged up all the housing. I ended up living in a mobile home in a flat (former) soybean field.

Think of a mobile home on the tundra wastes in Alaska. That is what it was like. Though in the Spring and Fall, it was pretty lovely.

Today, I live in a big house off the beach. I can watch the people walk their dogs and play on the beach from my living room window, and my neighborhood is nice, and friendly.

So you might want to say that in comparison, it is sort of like this… (I will not use actual pictures of my personal life in this post. I do hope that you all understand.)

.

Yeah, it’s a bit of a change.

Do you all think that it is luck? Or that I somehow managed to eventually save my way to my current lifestyle though scrimping and saving, or through the stock market, or a “big break”? Eh?

Let’s compare companions

Oh. Now, none of these pictures that I am using is of MM’s personal life. I don’t have any pictures of my life in the 1980’s, and I sure as Hell aren’t gonna provide pictures of my current home and personal shit.

But, for the most part the pictures are accurate and are designed to give the proper IMPRESSION of the changes that I have personally experienced as a result of my life and four decades of affirmation and prayer campaigns.

And now, let’s talk about my wife; my companion.

You know, the BIGGEST influence in your happiness, your success in life, and you ability to be happy is your spouse. It’s true and I do believe it.

To understand the differences between then and now, you need to understand the ladies that I was with. And while today, my current wife is beautiful, stacked, tough as nails, but sweet as a kitten, and a strong powerful mother, my wife from the 1980’s was almost the exact opposite.

At that time, in the 1980’s my wife ( a lovely and attractive lass when I married her ) was just starting to lose her mind. Literally, not figuratively. She had an inherited mental illness known as Schizophrenia. It’s a pretty horrible illness, and at that time it was just starting to manifest, and it hit her hard. Really, really hard.

She was incapable of normal life, and started to behave very strangely. She started to hear “messages” in the radio and the television. She started to obsess about events that took place when she was seven years old, and she started performing all sorts of odd and crazy rituals. Her mannerisms changed. Her actions changed. The way she spoke changed, and her interactions with others began a near immediate down-hill side. She was impossible to take around anyone.

And so for personal tranquility, we stayed at home most of the time.

Schizophrenia is a serious brain disorder that distorts the way a person thinks, acts, expresses emotions, perceives reality, and relates to others. People with schizophrenia -- the most chronic and disabling of the major mental illnesses -- often have problems functioning in society, at work, at school, and in relationships. Schizophrenia can leave its sufferer frightened and withdrawn. It is a life-long disease that cannot be cured but can be controlled with proper treatment.
Schizophrenia is a serious brain disorder that distorts the way a person thinks, acts, expresses emotions, perceives reality, and relates to others. People with schizophrenia — the most chronic and disabling of the major mental illnesses — often have problems functioning in society, at work, at school, and in relationships. Schizophrenia can leave its sufferer frightened and withdrawn. It is a life-long disease that cannot be cured but can be controlled with proper treatment.

.

At that time, she started to get counseling, and the doctors prescribed some medication for her to take.

The medicine worked, but ended up causing certain side effects. One of which was that she gained an enormous amount of weight, became very lethargic, and would just spend the entire day sitting around doing absolutely nothing. Then out of the blue, she would become enraged and passionate. And it was absolutely maddening.

After an entire night of dealing with this madness, I would have to drag myself to work and deal with a true-to-life scene from the movie “Office Space”. It was horrible, and absolutely not enjoyable.

  • Nightime = caretaker for a mentally ill person.
  • Daytime = Worker drone right out of the “Office Space” movie.

When I would return home, I would need to clean up her messes (she would destroy things, break things, and became completely incapable of normal activity. Like throwing the chicken bones from KTC on the living room rug when she was through eating, or never taking a shower or brushing her teeth.), then I would make dinner for both of us, and try to act as her counselor to help her sort out her near-constant distress and emotional turmoil.

Times change…

We divorced, she managed to control her illness somewhat, and last I heard she was doing fine.

And me, today I am happily married to a beautiful Chinese gal, and she is normal and healthy and wholly functional. Praise the Lord!

You know, the BIGGEST influence in your happiness, your success in life, and you ability to be happy is your spouse. It's true and I do believe it.

.

Time changes everything.

Where I am today is a direct result of my prayer affirmations. Listen to me. I tell you this two times. Where my life is today is the direct result of my various prayer affirmation campaigns.

Let’s compare automobiles

This is pretty easy, but it didn’t work out as planned. But it all manifested when I started to concentrate on the end result of my desire. Not so much on the details. And as a result, an amazing thing happened…

Today I do not drive.

I have contemplated buying a car, and it is on the family table as a discussion item, but we have held back. There are numerous reasons for that, but mostly its that the local public and private transportation avenues are so well established and cheap where we live in China, there just isn’t a serious need to get a car. Though, it would be nice to have one to go outside of the community, and we are contemplating it as a future option. But right now, nah.

Instead, right now, I employ private drivers. I have them on retainer that stand by for me and drive me here and there (as a chauffeur). When I am elsewhere on travel, and not with my driver, I will if necessary, use DD or ShaoJiu which are Chinese equivalents of Uber.

Back in the day, of course, I had my own car. And at that particular point of time in my life, I drove a distressed Mazda RX-7. It was a good little car, but every month I was out in the cold or the heat trying to fix one thing or the other. A few years later, I bought a brand new car to replace it and my life changed accordingly. But right now we are talking about then compared to now, and it looked a little something like this…

Let’s compare meals

You can really see the differences in what I ate then, compared to what I eat now. Back then I ate a lot of simple foods that were cheap and easy to prepare. Much of our budget went into paying medical bills, as my wife at that time was very prone to call 9-11 and have an ambulance take her to the hospital because “she didn’t feel right”.

Breakfasts were mostly cereals with milk, and a drive through coffee and breakfast sandwich. Lunches were a drive through burger meal. I would often mix it up between McDonald’s, Burger King, and Wendy’s.) And dinners were either spaghetti, hamburgers, hotdogs, a tuna salad, a can of Campbell’s tomato (or chicken noodle) soup or chicken wings. Simple and plain, easy to make, American meals. Often the sides would come from a can. Canned corn. Canned peas. Canned beans. Canned spinach. We would eat salads. But fruit were pretty rare in our household. We would buy bananas maybe once a month.

Like I said, my wife was sick. I did all the cooking, and I was exhausted after dealing with my career and work. Only to come home to a house that looked like an army of five year olds played in it, and an out-of-control wife that was raging about something or another that she watched on television.

Today, things are quite different.

I tend to eat really well.

My wife does all the cooking, and every meal is planned and cooked by her. We go out numerous times during the week for a much more extensive meal which tends to be steaks, seafood, or specialty Chinese dishes.

And of course, there are always exceptions. There are days where I need to get something outside, or make up something myself. It's called "reality".

Today, my typical breakfast is usually a bean porridge, rice congiee, toasted Italian baguette, eggs and sausage and, of course coffee. Lunch tends to be the biggest meal of the day and it is a multi-dish affair with meats and vegetables. Dinner (supper) is slightly smaller. The difference is that I have a few beers during lunches, and my wine or VSOP at dinner.

When I am on travel, of course, I eat like a real King.

Let’s compare weekend recreation

This is also a big change, and again, doesn’t look like anything that I could have ever planned for. Back in the 1980’s my weekends were so damn predictable. We would go out for a breakfast in a diner, the highlight of the weekend might be a hike in a state forest, and I would spend most of the weekend tending to the things around the house. I would mow the grass, repair things, like the porches or windows, and of course, fix the perpetually broken car.

Today, I have a very relaxed lifestyle. We go out, walk a lot and enjoy nature. We eat really well. It might be boring to others, but lazing by the beach and chilling with a glass of wine in my hand is what I like to do.

This is not instragram

No it isn’t. This is real life.

But if I show you the pictures of my real life, it will just look “normal” and “everyday”. My life doesn’t look anywhere near as exciting and glamorous as Hollywood and social media makes out an “ideal” life to be.

Do not compare yourself to the images that you find on line.

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I could have easily enough pulled off some amazing photos from the internet, pointed at them and said “this is me, and this Lamborghini is my car, and this beautiful instragram beauty is my wife”. But I didn’t.

Do not ever be under the impression that I have an “ideal ” life (what ever the fuck that means).

I have plusses and minuses in my life, just like every other person in this world. Just like you (the reader) does. And yes, just like you, there are things that I want to change, and things that I want to improve upon. And yes, I do maintain active affirmation / prayer campaigns. And yes, I have just finished one a few days ago.

And yeah, I do get it. What I have presented as my life looks just fantastic. Well, that is because I am using stock images and selected pictures off the internet. I tried to carefully select the ones closest in appearance and general “feeling” that represents the point that I am trying to make…

But, let’s be real. OK?

As in… REAL.

My life might not be what you, the reader might desire. It is what fits me. And I am sure that there are elements in my life that you would find undesirable. Please do not compare yourself to others, and certainly do not compare yourself to me. It’s like comparing apples to green-beans.

The reality is a little bit (not that much, though) different.

So, for instance the picture of a delicious steak does not mean that every single meal that I eat has steak. It means that I eat quite well, all things considered. I eat a lot of fresh food, and far more sea food than I did when I lived in the States. And while I might of had 80% of my day to day meals as fast food, today, it is much less than 1%.

I eat well.

But it is difficult to quantify directly… I eat delicious, and healthy and tasty food in nice eating establishments, or cooked at home with a degree of special care and love. It is not a mass produced GMO-laden artificial-food-product dished out to drone-workers in a corporate grind-mill.

I eat well.

The real deal; Metallicman and family having "paper fish" at a restaurant. The fish is cooked in a paper wrap with all sorts of spices and tasty vegetables. It is so very super delicious! So yes, I eat far better now than then, but it's not always steaks, don't you know.
The real deal; Metallicman and family having “paper fish” at a restaurant. The fish is cooked in a paper wrap with all sorts of spices and tasty vegetables. It is so very super delicious! So yes, I eat far better now than then, but it’s not always steaks, don’t you know.

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And you know that chick that I use to represent my wife, is not my actual wife, but (you know) she actually is a pretty darn good approximation. Asian, big smile, attractive, stacked, nice long hair, great personality, happy. She’s fine for me, and yeah she had a lot of suitors. But she ‘chose” me. Good and bad.

Here’s a more realistic picture of her, not showing anything, with our youngest. Looks so plain, un-glamorous, and so very uninspiring. Right? Real life is not all glamor. It is… real.

Don't compare yourself to others.
Mrs. Metallicman with our metallic baby in front of our old house on the bay. It’s not instragram. It’s real life. And the point of all this is NOT to compare yourself to what you THINK others live their lives. You need to compare it to yourself based on your prior experiences.

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And the picture of the guy holding the wine glass and relaxing. That isn’t me, and that isn’t my glass of wine. (I tend to fill the glass up to 80% full, not the “oh so dainty” one fourth glass full.) Nor is the guy pushing the lawn mower. In fact, in the 1980’s I had a used lawn mower that continually broke down all the time, and I was constantly playing around with it.

And that guy holding open the door for me to get in is actually a stock image off the internet. Though they really do open the doors and close them for me in actual life when I get into the automobile.

And the picture of the boss isn’t me, but gosh darn it, it could well be. My reality is not that far off from what is depicted. Let me tell youse guys that for certain. I am a BOSS. And I portray that image and that feeling. I don’t wear a tie, and if my customers can’t handle that fact, well… too bad.

And that image of me as a beta cluck worker drone in corporate cubicle-ville in the 1980’s could very much have been me.

So you can see that my life has it’s plusses and minuses.

And it is about tradeoffs.

For instance, I love living near the ocean in a laid back area, with friendly folk around. But living on the beach in the tropics is quite different from living in a mountain top, with swirling snow while you are all cozy and snuggled inside of a toasty cabin.

It’s about trade-offs.

To live on the beach in the tropics means that I will not be able to experience the cabin in the snow squall. Tradeoffs.

it’s all about tradeoffs and what matters to you personally.

Life is about tradeoffs.

Conclusion

It is all good and bad, and areas that need improvement, but all accounts much better than what it was forty years ago, and it wasn’t by accident either. I worked and toiled and controlled my mental processes to make it all happen.

So…

If that is what I can do, what about you?

You have something that I didn’t have. You have guidance, direction and skills on how to conduct prayer campaigns. I had to learn as a consequence of my MAJestic role, and a lot of it was forced trial and forced error. And now you can greatly improve your life to an extent that would amaze. So make it be.

Do you all want some more?

You can see more in my writings about Prayer and Affirmation campaigns here…

Affirmation / prayer campaigns

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When Math Meets Mayhem—and Pawprints Become Proof

Cluster slides.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Rapid fire in sequence.

Big ones, too.

DC is informing me that the slides are “regular maintenance” to the reality, but I am not… NOT agreeing.

Something more significant is going on.

Oh, “regular maintenance” my ass! Yeah, oh the DC got a big chuckle out of that.

*Regular maintenance is what the DC is supposed to say. But we (DC and I) actually know what is really going on. (Image of a 1920’s elevator with an “out of order” sign dangling at the gate.)

In any event, most of the slides are over.

I think the template (that we mostly inhabit)  went from a very BIG BAD to a group cluster of small BADS.

And for most of the people, they will not notice it.

DC suggests that it’s a return to a reality template dated to the early 1960’s (whatever the HELL that is supposed to mean) which is more stable than the tattered-cluster-fuck that we are on right now.

Impression is that some stupid, selfish agents (meaning entities in physical bodies) got control of the reality controls and were driving the reality towards some ultra-crazed religious-based catastrophic nightmare (probably nuclear inspired) to create a realm where “heaven will be on earth” or some other nonsense like that.

  • They were stopped somehow.
  • The controls are back in place and locked in. Somehow.
  • Things are more stable. Somehow.

Oh for sure things are choppy, but the world war III thermonuclear fiasco  was avoided (not the right word. Not avoided. It actually did occur and is actually happening right now, but only on a different world-line. Not on one that your consciousness now bulk inhabits. it’s someone else’s nightmare) because we all were carted off to a reality where it did not occur.

This is what JUST NOW happened.

(Well, actually over the last week, give or take).

And I might be the only one on the planet to knows about this and what just happened.

Ah. It SUCKS to be me.

Ignorance, as they say, is bliss.

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I need a drink of whiskey.

-MM

Sir Whiskerton and the ‘Show Your Work’ Cat-astrophe

Or: When Math Meets Mayhem—and Pawprints Become Proof

Introduction

Dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of numbers, nonsense, and existential crises. Today’s story follows Ditto the Echoing Kitten as he faces his greatest challenge yet during his kitten-version of the Chinese Gaokao (高考): math homework.

When Taxman Ted attempts to audit Ditto’s scratch paper—covered in pawprints, drool, and what appears to be a faint outline of a fish skeleton—it sparks an uproar on the farm. Count Catula waxes poetic about depreciation, while Ditto licks everything in sight, declaring it all “salty.”

So grab your abacus (or maybe just some snacks) and enjoy Sir Whiskerton and the ‘Show Your Work’ Cat-astrophe.

Act 1: The Great Pawprint Equation

Ditto sat at his tiny desk, staring blankly at the math problem before him. His solution? A flurry of excited pawprints smeared across the page, interspersed with suspicious wet spots that smelled faintly of tuna.

Taxman Ted approached, clipboard in hand, adjusting his glasses dramatically.

“This… this can’t be depreciation,” Ted muttered, squinting at the chaotic mess. “Unless kittens depreciate?!”

Before anyone could respond, Count Catula swooped in, cape billowing theatrically.

“We all depreciate in the sunlight of truth,” he declared, placing a dramatic paw over his heart. “Even vampires—especially when taxed.”

Ditto blinked, overwhelmed by their conflicting interpretations. Then, true to form, he echoed both voices:
“Depreciate… sunlight… salty?”

Act 2: The Calculator Incident

As the debate raged on, Ditto became increasingly curious about Ted’s shiny calculator. Before anyone could stop him, he gave it an enthusiastic lick.

“SALTY!” Ditto yelped, recoiling dramatically.

Ted stared at his now-slobber-covered device in horror. “That was my only working calculator!”

Chef Remy LeRaccoon waddled up, sniffing the air. “Ah, mes amis! This calls for my newest invention: Edible Numbers™. Chewable digits infused with existential dread—and just a hint of tuna flavor.”

The animals exchanged horrified glances.

Act 3: Resolution Through Reflection

Sir Whiskerton finally intervened, herding everyone under the old oak tree for a moment of clarity.

“Friends,” he began gravely, “we must ask ourselves: What does it mean to ‘show your work’? Is it merely scribbling equations—or is it the journey of discovery itself?”

Porkchop snorted loudly. “I’m just here for the snacks.”

Ignoring him, Sir Whiskerton turned to Ditto. “True learning comes not from perfect answers, but from effort—even if that effort involves more drool than digits.”

Ditto nodded solemnly. “So… no more licking calculators?”

“Precisely,” Sir Whiskerton replied. “Unless they’re Chef Remy’s lasagna-flavored ones. Those are exempt.”

Post-Credit Scene

Count Catula stood triumphantly beside a glowing chalkboard covered in cryptic symbols. “Behold! My latest masterpiece: The Depreciation Sonata.”

Doris the Hen pecked suspiciously at one of the symbols. “Are these radioactive?”

Count Catula grinned. “Only slightly.”

Cue horrified squawks.

Moral of the Story

Effort matters more than perfection—even if your math homework looks like abstract art.

Best Lines

  • “This can’t be depreciation… unless kittens depreciate?!” – Taxman Ted, philosopher-accountant extraordinaire.
  • “We all depreciate in the sunlight of truth.” – Count Catula, self-proclaimed poet of despair.
  • “Salty!” – Ditto, accidental taste tester.

Starring

  • Sir Whiskerton (Voice of Reason)
  • Ditto the Echoing Kitten (Abstract Artist)
  • Taxman Ted (Auditor Extraordinaire)
  • Count Catula (Dramatic Vampire Cat)
  • Chef Remy LeRaccoon (Mad Scientist of Munchies)

Summaries

  • Moral: Perfection isn’t the goal—effort is. Even if it involves pawprints and drool.
  • Key Jokes: From Ted’s existential confusion to Ditto’s salty discoveries, laughter abounds.
  • Future Potential: Could Chef Remy open a restaurant serving only edible homework? Or will Ditto face another existential crisis involving geometry?

Until next time, may your equations balance and your calculators remain drool-free. 📚

Indian journalists visited Tianjin, China and returned home shocked

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ksnip 20250922 070253

Why doesn’t honey go bad?

Honey never spoils–Archaeologists have dug up jars of the stuff from ancient civilizations, perfectly edible after thousands of years in the earth. The secret is honey’s hostile environment for bacteria and fungi–It’s essentially concentrated sugar syrup with moisture levels so low they’re almost nonexistent. Any microbe that attempts to enter is dehydrated immediately. The sugar molecules suck every last bit of water from invading cells, which dry up and die.

But honey doesn’t even leave it at that. It also has a pH of approximately 4, rendering it an acidic wasteland in which most pathogens cannot survive–On top of that, bees leave behind glucose oxidase during production. This enzyme slowly converts sugars into hydrogen peroxide, rendering honey an ongoing antiseptic factory. So bacteria are dehydrated, acid burned, and chemically attacked simultaneously–It’s biologic overkill that keeps honey indefinitely.

How China SOLVED Homelessness While America Made It a Crime!🇨🇳🇺🇸

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ksnip 20250922 065010

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ksnip 20250922 065114

Time Is All We Have, My Friend.

Written in response to: “Center your story around someone who has (or is given) the ability to time travel.“

James Scott

Reginald saw no change at all in the man sat across from him. He didn’t appear to have even moved. His old face was still creased with deep lines; his cheeks were redder than they used to be and what was left of his hair was just as grey as always. The damn fool had gone and gotten old. He hadn’t truly noticed until that moment. But then, when was the last time he had really looked at his friend? It never seemed necessary. He knew the twit’s face well enough, having to deal with it every damn day for the past thirty years. No matter. He was looking now, and he saw nothing the slightest out of place.“Well…?” He snapped.“It worked…” Jasper mumbled, wide eyed, “Reg, we’ve done it! We’ve actually gone and done it this time!”“What are you talking about, you daft prat! You didn’t go anywhere. I was watching the whole time! You didn’t move!”“Maybe not from your frame of reference…but I’m telling you, Reg, I’ve been sat here for the last minute, itching to tell you. I had to be sure though, had to go through the motions, until I caught back up to the present.”“I don’t believe you. What number prototype is this?” He said, gesturing to the crude box of circuits and wires on the table between them, “I lost count years ago. Still, I’d know if it had worked. I’d have seen it.”Jasper just nodded smugly. Man of few words was his colleague, and it suited Reginald just fine. Spend enough time locked in a lab with the same man and you began to wish only for silence from anyone. Jasper tossed his pocket watch across the table. It landed face down, with the loud clack of metal on wood. Spinning to a stop, it proudly displayed the engraving Reginald had paid an arm and a leg to have scratched onto the back plate of the time piece. A kingly gift for the mans fiftieth. “Time is all we have, my friend” it had once read crisply. Now it was battered and scraped with use. With a huff, he reached out and flipped the old thing over, and there it was. A minute ahead. He even pulled out his own matching model to compare. He had set them both himself before the testing began. They had read the same time. He was sure of it. Reginald looked up to see the satisfied grin on Jasper’s weathered old face. He’d just time travelled a minute into the past, and he knew it. After so many years of perseverance, Reginald should have been overjoyed. They had finally cracked the fourth dimension. Instead, curiously, all he felt was a sinking in his stomach.Glancing between the watch face and that of his friends, then back again, Reginald’s mouth worked, unable to produce a sound.“I know!” Was all Jasper could say, still nodding.“After all this time? After all of this…” Reginald whispered, looking around the room at all the government funded equipment lining the walls, “We’ve really done it? I guess I never actually believed-”“So, where are you going to go, old boy!?” Jasper barked, as excited as a fresh pup. His smile so broad it made his face seem foreign.Reginald looked down at his hands, still clutching the two watches. His wrinkled, veined and spotted hands. He was old, it was true. They both should have retired years ago. But no one else could have done what they had done, none understood what they did. It had taken a lifetime to wrap their own two heads around it. Now that they had succeeded, did age even matter anymore? Would it ever again?“What are you on about?” He asked, realising he had mostly forgotten the question.“It’s late. The whole facility is closed up. We’re alone. Before the powers that be come to claim our work as their own, we agreed to test it. Just us. Remember? I would take the risk and go first, since you’re a giant girl’s blouse, and if it worked, you’d go for real. So… where…when are you going to go?”“I-I don’t rightly know.” He admitted.“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you didn’t decide a decade ago!?”“Of course!” Reginald snapped, sliding the mans watch back across the table to him. He caught it deftly. It was impressively done. The old fart must have been brimming with adrenaline. “But it’s real now. That sheds a different light on things. I’ve thought so long and hard about what this could be used for, I’ve come full circle a dozen times.”“Lets make it simple then,” Jasper said, tucking his watch into the inside pocket of his jacket, “Future or past?”“Can you imagine me in the future?” Reginald laughed, “We might be leaders in our field, my friend, but I still need my son to show me how these damned phones work these days, and I barely understand a word my grandson spouts!”“Agreed, past it is then.” The other man said, rubbing his chin and looking to the ceiling, “Hitler?”

“Perhaps we should aim a little smaller than changing the entire course of human history on day one? Who knows what effects something like that could have…although maybe none, if you remember my theory.”

“That it would have just been someone else anyway?” Jasper asked.

“Well if you look at the state of Europe at that time, it was a powder keg!” Reginald began to argue.

“Yes, yes, I know.” His friend said, waving away the debate for another time, “You’re right, you should just observe. Like we talked about. No changes that could end with us anywhere but here, now. That’d be some feedback loop, sending you back, resulting in it impossible to send you back? That’d melt a few brains hey, old boy!”

“Yes, quite right.” Reginald said, pushing his glasses up his nose. Suddenly nervous.

“How about satisfying that little boy in you? Dinosaurs?” Jasper suggested.

“Tempting…but I’m not much for running anymore. Wouldn’t want to get eaten…” Reginald smiled, attempting to appear lighthearted about the idea. He stood up, grimacing at the ache in his ankles and the twinge in his back. Their funding hadn’t exactly stretched to comfortable chairs and if sitting was so arduous, hiding from gigantic reptiles in a tropical forest was most certainly out of the question. He tottered stiffly along the rows of equipment, tracing his finger along the polished tabletops.

“Look at all this,” he said, “all the tool’s we basically invented, in order to create that thing. If we were able to share even one of them, we would be heralded as visionaries. Ever regret taking their money? Agreeing to their terms?”

“Reg, stop procrastinating. We don’t have all night! They’ll find out soon enough. Then the chance will be gone, and it’ll be someone else taking the first steps on this proverbial moon.”

They both paused for the barest second and then simultaneously roared with laughter. Reginald slapped the stupid sod rather too hard on the shoulder and wiped the tears from his eyes, chuckling away as his mirth wound down.

“Just to be clear,” He wheezed, “anyone knocks on that door…who ever is closest hits the button and jumps back to the beginning of this conversation, then speeds us along. Deal?”

“Yeah, alright, Reg.” Jasper said, rubbing his own eyes dry, “Sorry. its late. I’m not a half-wit, I promise.”

“Bah! You’ve always been a pleb!” Reginald laughed, patting the man a couple more times on the shoulder.

 

They both thought in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncommon in their field to spend time exploring their own thoughts before lending them voice. Reginald was the first to speak up, his voice soft and conspiratorial.

“What about the other plan?” He ventured.

Jasper sighed and leaned back in his chair, placing both of his hands on the back of his head and stretching out his elbows.

“We never really entertained it before.” He said, evading the question.

“We should consider it now though, right? Now that its possible?”

“Well, I can confirm that when you go back, you’ll enter your own body of the time. I appeared right here, behind the same eyes, just as I was the previous minute. Except with knowledge of the sixty seconds to come. I knew everything you said, everything that happened, because I had already lived it. So that rules out any kind of ‘meeting yourself’ paradox.”

“So I could do it. Take the knowledge of this final product back to the younger versions of us? The poor sods who worked out of your aunts damp garage those first few years. I could save us thirty years of labour, simply returning with the solution?” Reginald asked.

“Wouldn’t that mean all of that work never happened though? So how could you return with a solution that had never been developed? Except that it would still exist, just without the work having been done? Isn’t that an issue?” Jasper asked.

Reginald slapped an open palm to his forehead and swore in the only way his wife had ever allowed.

“Biscuits!” He gasped, “Madeline. I met her while we were spending all that time at your aunts place. She and Maddie’s mother, they were friends. If I change this, none of that will happen. I’d never meet her. I can’t have that.”

“You could wait? Until after you meet? Reveal it then?”

“No. It wouldn’t work. What would she see in me now? I’m an old man! She was so full of life back then, so adventurous and bright. And I…I was so hell bent on my dreams, so passionate…”

“You’ll be in your old body you dolt!” Jasper laughed, “She’ll still see you as you were!”

“Will she?” Reginald snapped, “I don’t think so. Maybe in my face. My body. But I’m so different now. She will see it. She always saw it…always saw me.”

“I miss her too.”

“Its tempting though, ain’t it?” Reginald smiled, “She was a firecracker, no doubt about that. Or hey! What about Samantha. She admitted not so long ago she always had a crush on me back then. Maybe I could, you know, make that happen a little different? Before I ever meet Maddie?”

“Reg! You’re a dog!” Jasper cackled, “You’ve got my mind running now! All those missed chances…”

“Ah, to correct all the dumb things we moron’s did! Spare ourselves these thirty something years of struggle! Wouldn’t it be something!?”

“Sure would, Reg. Sure would. It wasn’t all bad though. Most of it, for sure. The lifetime of poverty and stress, chasing a dream straight out of a science fiction novel. Most people still think we are crazy, you know? But it wasn’t all bad. Not all of it.”

“No. Not all of it, old friend. Not at all.”

 

Silence reigned again and Reginald dumped himself back down into his chair. It had started as a gentle lowering, and ended with the uncontrolled drop of a man who should have been in bed hours ago.

“So,” Jasper said, hand back on his chin, muffling his words, “Dinosaurs are out, Hitler can live his sordid life. We commit to doing the work, for Maddie. What else is there? Maybe you go small, just drop in, grab a newspaper and come back?”

“Newspapers can be forged. Preserved. Its no kind of proof. Always thought that was stupid.” Reginald yawned.

“Well, whatever! Make it Napoleon’s hat for all I care! Just do a quick fly-by. No harm, no foul.”

“That’s what I think I’m coming to,” Reginald said, “I don’t think there’s any action I could take that wouldn’t cause harm. Future or past. I know you’ve thought on it as much as I have, Jasper.”

“A damn sight more, I should imagine.” He scowled.

“Can we really hand over something as powerful as this to our government benefactors? Will they sit around a table and talk like we are now, or will they just hit go and send some meat head with a machine gun leaping headfirst into disaster?”

“I think we both know that answer to that one,” Jasper said, rolling his eyes, “What are you saying here, Reg?”

“I’m saying I’ve had a good life. I’m an old man and I’ve certainly made my share of mistakes. But I own my past. I treasure it. I wouldn’t give it up. Not a second with Maddie. Not my children or my grand babies. Not a minute of the time I’ve spent with you on this project. You damn fool. Would we really rewrite all that we’ve become? Because make no mistake, any single butterfly would do it!”

“You’re a sentimental jackass,” Jasper said, shaking his head, “But damn it if you aren’t right.”

“So what do we do then?” Reginald asked, lost for the answer himself. His mind foggy and wanting little more than his pillow.

“We do this.” Jasper said, leaning forward. The old man wobbled, putting all his slight weight on one hand against the table. With the other, he grasped a fistful of wires and half a circuit board and yanked hard, turning all their hard work into a mess of nothing.

“Alas, prototype number seven-hundred-and-forty-two is another failure. I do keep count.” He smiled, “So, back to it tomorrow? We’ll need to begin designs for the next one.”

“Yeah, alright, old friend. We’ll start again tomorrow.” Reginald nodded, the relief washing over him and suddenly making him exhausted.

They both stood slowly, fighting their own aches and pains, then wandered side by side toward the doors they had entered together every morning of their adult lives. Reginald slapped a hand to the old dolt’s shoulder, nodded his goodbye, and they both moved apart, heading home through the night.

Americans Are Living On the EDGE And Fed Up

Rant after rant, after rant. Worthwhile.

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ksnip 20250922 063910

Do marriage counsellors ever tell couples to divorce?

My second wife and I decided (less than a year into it) that we needed to see a therapist. The problem was she insisted we go to her therapist, whom was seeing her once a week. I was to go every other session. I figured I’d give it a shot.

Over the course of several sessions it was clear this was a mistake. The therapist not only agreed with everything my wife said but agreed I need to change a lot of stuff to make my wife “more comfortable”.

Now, a little background for the reader: my wife had been diagnosed officially with Dissociative Identity Disorder (popularly known as “multiple personality”.) It wasn’t like a didn’t know this, and it wasn’t like I was unsympathetic. But another facet to the problem was that her therapist was a renowned specialist in treating D.I.D., and I began wondering if she was writing a book on her therapy with my wife, she was so biased toward her.

The next to last straw came my wife complained that when my 16 year old son had a buddy or two over, she felt terrified that they were going to gang rape her. The therapist ordered me to not let my son have friends at the house.

At that point I realized I was myself going nutso trying to keep my own sanity. I scheduled an appointment with a therapist my late first wife and I had used for a bit of marriage counseling (very successful therapy).

During my first session my therapist suggested a joint session with my wife and me and both therapists present. She set it up.

It didn’t go well. My own therapist tried to maintain a neutral face but I could see her straining at it.

After this I had a return session solo with my therapist. Among other things, she said, and I still remember the exact words 28 years later: “I ordinarily would never say something like this, at least so early in our consultation, but I don’t see any possible path forward for your marriage.”

I trusted this therapist based on prior experience. I made an appointment with a divorce attorney and started the process.

If you are about to get in a fight, what is your opening intimidating line?

Don’t talk, hit.

When I was 11 I started high school and was the tallest kid in the school year, but I wasn’t a fighter, so bullies used to pick fights with me to show they could beat a big guy. Sometimes they’d say they were going to beat me up after school. So school life was pretty miserable. One day though I watched Survival, a 1970s UK TV nature program. The episode was about Lions. I learned how lions fight. They’re not super-fast but they use their weight to absorb punishment, grab hold of their opponent and then go in for the kill. That taught me that I needed to use my size and weight. I wasn’t a great boxer, I could not throw fast punches and being shortsighted I needed to take my spectacles off to fight, which left me half-blind, a distinct disadvantage in a stand-up fight. By combining wrestling with boxing though, that disadvantage ceased to matter. Like the lion I’d soak up some punches to get in close, grab a good hold, and then beat the shit out of them. I didn’t need to be able to see well or punch fast, I just needed to be able to soak up their initial attack, and I could do that.

As regards the ones who then threatened what they’d do to me out of school on the way home, as soon as they made that threat, I’d just hit them with a shot there and then, regardless of the time or place. I once did it in a French lesson with a guy sitting opposite me, and once in the school dinner hall with the guy who was the supposed ‘cock of the school.’ I bust his nose and lips and he ended up covered in his school dinner to the great amusement of the 300 other kids in the hall at the time. Of course, it meant that I was often in trouble with teachers who’d see me throw my punch but who wouldn’t know what had gone on in the run-up. Even so, getting detentions and having to explain myself was better than having the asshole’s pals join in against me the minute the bully boy found out he’d bitten off more than he could chew. The reputation I got for letting fly anywhere anytime meant that pretty soon they stopped picking on me. Problem solved.

Here’s the lesson: Bullies don’t actually want a fight. They want to frighten and thus dominate you. The minute they get a smack in the mouth, they are the ones on the back foot. It’s the same with muggers. They don’t want a fight, they want your wallet. I’m 62 now and three times in my life I’ve had guys try to mug me. I’ve never given up so much as a penny but one of them ended up in hospital and another in jail.

There are people who say that violence is never the answer. Sadly, they are wrong. You have to be able to defend yourself, and you have the right to do so.

The METOO Movement Hit The WRONG Men! Now The Nice Guys Aren’t Approaching

What is pemmican, and how does one make it?

Pemmican is shelf-stable meat loaf.

Making meat shelf stable without pasteurization was a trick learned early in human history. There are people who have been using the same pemmican recipes for forty thousand years.

The trick is the render the loaf too dry to support bacterial growth and too greasy for yeast growth, then add ingredients that preserve the meat and grease against rancidity.

It helps if you can make the loaf really big and blocky, which protects the bulk of the pemmican from perfused oxygen.

Thus the ultimate, sin qua non pemmican is something called a Tauron.

When French trappers made their way west of what’s now Ontario they met people who hunted bison without horses.

The migratory bison passed their way only twice each year, but these locals knew how to render bison into immense blocks of pemmican that trappers dubbed ”taurons”. Each block could keep for over a year and feed the crew of a canoe for months on end.

The trappers learned to depend on these taurons being there when they started a trapping run, and brought as their provisions mainly salt, tobacco, bagged split peas and pepper.

Each tauron weighed ninety pounds. It was all the fat of a single bison rendered to dry tallow in a skin bag hung over a fire, to which fire-dried meat and sweetbreads (mainly lung) would be added after first pounding them into a fluff.

When they had added enough dried, broken meat to soak up the tallow they turned it out onto a scraped rawhide and began working small dried berries into it, turning over and over until it was crusted.

They they cut and sewed the hide into a skinbag shaped a bit like a stuffed duffel bag, closing it with a flap.

The trick was to add lung to the mix. Lung is rich in ascorbic acid which halts damage due to oxidation. The berries are important too; they bring eugenol-like biostatic compounds similar to clove oil into the mix, as well as benzoic acid, a potent rancidity fighter.

Making it as big as a man could carry was the other trick. For the same reason that hard cheeses are traditionally made into immense dense lumps as big (or bigger) than a man can carry, taurons were made big and blocky to self-protect against rancidity due to perfused oxygen. The sewed-on rawhide helped, but it was the sheer density and thickness of the block that did most of the work keeping oxygen out and rancidity halted.

A day’s ration would be prepared by opening the end flap and paring off some pemmican, to which would be added split peas, salt and pepper. Stewed for hours this becomes rich stew somewhat like ham and pea soup. The pea starch soaks up a lot of the bison tallow and becomes like a roux. The trappers and their rowers would eat this stew hot and cold throughout the day, before stopping to make camp and prepare a new batch.

The trappers didn’t invent this ration; it came as instructions with the taurons themselves. The people who knew how to make taurons had been eating similar food since before coming to North America from Asia, made from all sorts of critters we know only from fossils today. Their ancestors had settled where they did to maintain access to both the berries and the bison, and thus had kept the knack for making taurons when many other groups didn’t.

Taurons had powered the eastward expansion of mankind into North America, sent wave after wave of migrating nations into rich new lands beyond the sunrise. Many a block of pemmican had traveled for a year or more beyond the hunting grounds, feeding walkers and towers alike, until travelers reached warm climates where other travel rations proved necessary.

And because they contain no bones, no stones, the taurons themselves vanished from the paleontological record.

China’s Strategic Blow to U.S. Military Power | Jeffrey David Sachs!

What are the differences between a trip to Japan and a trip to China for an Indian traveler? Which one would be a better choice and why?

I have lived in Japan and in China. An Indian here. Let me give you a no fluff answer.

Japan is more expensive than China. China is much affordable though it has its expensive pockets.

As an Indian you might face racism in both countries but while Japanese will not show it because they are polite Chinese won’t show it because they value their own face value more than the pleasure of being a racist like westerners. Though do note that in Japan you can be stopped from entering a restaurant for not being a Japanese but in China that will never happen. However this racism is nuance compared to what you face in your favourite country.

In Japan every corner, alley, area, city, village, mountain, valley is beautiful. In China the natural beauty is more at a travelling distance.

Technology wise China is making huge jumps daily while Japan has done all that long back. China has extremely high speed trains to travel around while Japan high speed trains are like a thing of the past. They have been there since before you were born. That’s a Chinese high speed train.

You will find Chinese food much more appealing than the Japanese food. Chinese food can be spicy should you want it but in Japan if you go for a spicy food they make it like a mission. Below is a levelling system which you will find in such restaurants. Know your place in this universe and order accordingly. I have tried level 6 and I stopped midway when I could go no further and I am an Indian so that’s saying something. Be wise.

China is noisy like really noisy. Japan is much calmer. Both are clean and both have their dirty areas. A dirty alley in Japan.

Both have English spoken in cities and have signs in English. You go to the countryside and you might need a translator in both the countries.

Women from two countries are very opposite of each other. Chinese girls can be snobbish but Japanese are cute even when they act snobbish. Both are amazingly beautiful though and not fat. Infact fat women are so rare in Japan that having a fat girlfriend is like a desire for some guys in Japan. There are no fat girls in China.

In Japanese restaurant leaving food in the plate is considered rude. You need to finish it up if you ordered it. In China don’t try to bargain on the prices too much. They hate it.

Both countries are safe and not like western countries safe but real safe. Nobody on the train will bother you. No one will tell you to go back to your country and no one will try to start an unasked conversation. They both value your privacy.

In terms of work culture both countries value hard work. Respect at a work place is of paramount importance. People ask me that they have heard that there is a high work pressure there. That’s a western mentality. You finish your work more than what’s expected of you and your life is a breeze. That’s how the work is supposed to be. So if you are from a country where they stop the time of the universe for one hour just because it’s winters and you feel lazy to get up, these countries are not for you. If you don’t value work don’t even think of immigrating there. In work life balance, work comes first.

Both of these countries are known for their hospitality. Being rude is considered idiotic and not confident. You smile and they smile, and they will smile first.

If you act classy in both countries you will do just fine.

3

Mandarin Orange Chicken Stir Fry

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Ingredients

Chicken

  • Olive oil
  • Minced garlic
  • Cooked boneless chicken breast, cut into julienne strips
  • Mandarin orange segments
  • White rice cooked in chicken broth

Stir Fry Vegetable Blend

  • Sugar snap peas
  • Broccoli
  • Water chestnuts
  • Carrots
  • Baby corn
  • Celery
  • Mushrooms
  • Red pepper
  • Onion
  • Bean sprouts

Instructions

  1. Heat wok until warm; add olive oil and minced garlic. Cook for 1 minute.
  2. Add stir-fry vegetables. Sauté until tender; move to sides of wok.
  3. Add chicken, and sauté until temperature is 165 degrees F.
  4. Mix chicken and vegetables together, add mandarin oranges, and cook until oranges are warm.
  5. Serve on top of a bed of warm rice.

Notes

Add soy sauce if desired.

Are you proud of the Mali people for kicking the greedy Chinese out that exploited them for gold?

No, I am proud of the Rwandan Defence Forces.

Amid the scorching African heat, the Rwandan soldiers each fastened their uniforms tightly and adhered to strict discipline.

This demonstrates to the world that the Chinese People’s Liberation Army’s reputation for “excellent conduct and the ability to win battles” is not empty talk. The Rwandan soldiers trained by the PLA have perfectly inherited its fine traditions.

Paul Kagame is the best African leader in nearly half a century.

Under his leadership, Rwanda underwent tremendous changes in just a few decades and became a rich and powerful country in Africa.

I am very optimistic about Rwanda. Rwanda’s success has provided a model for Africa, which will change the order in Africa in the future.

As for former French West African colonies like Mauritania, Senegal, Niger, Mali, Guinea, Côte d’Ivoire, Burkina Faso, and Benin, they were deeply influenced by France. Their repeated swings back and forth under French influence are perfectly normal, but only fleeting. Sooner or later, these former colonies will finally break free from the influence of their former colonial masters.

The Seven Major Gold Mining Companies Active in Africa

  • Barrick Gold – A Canadian company headquartered in Toronto, operating mines such as “Loulo-Gounkoto” in Mali and “Kibali” in Tanzania.
  • Newmont Mining – An American company, with its “Ahafo” mine in Ghana being one of its major projects.
  • AngloGold Ashanti – A South African company with 10 mines in Ghana, Guinea, and Tanzania.
  • Kinross Gold – A Canadian company operating the “Tasiast” mine in Mauritania.
  • Gold Fields – A South African company with mines in Ghana and South Africa.
  • Newcrest Mining – An Australian company with operations in Côte d’Ivoire, acquired by Newmont in 2023.
  • Sibanye Stillwater – A South African company producing gold and precious metals in mining areas such as “Witwatersrand” and “Free State.”

China also has many companies investing in Mali, but not in gold mines.

  • Hainan Mining and Kodar Mining have jointly established the Bougouni Lithium Mine, with the Malian government also holding a stake.
  • Ganfeng International Co., Ltd. has acquired the Goulamina Lithium Mine from Australia’s Leo Lithium, with the Malian government also holding a stake.

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Was America a paradise for Native Americans before Europeans arrived?

Hi, Native American here.

The very idea that we were peaceful people who were victims of colonialism is a gigantic lie. We were not peaceful. We warred against each other and took territory all the time. If we wanted a river that had lots of fish and it was controlled by another tribe, we either kicked their asses and took it while enslaving the loser tribe, or we got our ass licked trying. And we would be enslaved.

We colonized all the time, made the people we colonized speak our language and forced our culture onto them.

That’s the honest to gods truth. The truth leftists don’t want you to know.

And if we had the technology, the numbers, and the diseases, we would have colonized Europe. It would have been us coming east across the Atlantic. Because that’s what humans do.

Americans in Europe But They Get Increasingly CLUELESS…

ksnip 20250922 064328
ksnip 20250922 064328

What are your thoughts on ZTZ-201? Do you think it’s any good?

Ah, the funny new Chinese support tank.

To be clear out the gate, the actual title is the Type-100.

(Type-100 tank during rehearsals for the September 3 parade)

You know that old joke about opening up a dictionary to a term and finding a picture? Yeah that applies to this thing. If your ever wondering what a cutting edge tank design looks like, this is it.

To summarize the publicly known features, the turret is completely unmanned and armed with a 105mm cannon. This is in addition to a CITV integrated to the vehicles RCWS, which appears to mount a 12.7x108mm MG, and a coaxial 7.62mm MG of some description. The vehicle uses the GL-6 hard kill active protection system employing both turreted launchers and fixed firing vertical mounted launchers.

The tanks power pack is a hybrid diesel electric unit, outputting a purported 1,500 horse power.

Accompanying the traditional battery of periscopes is no less then four radar systems, almost certainly phased array, and a significant number of onboard camera’s. Visible on screen is that the crew are wearing heads up display visors. This indicates that the vehicle is likely to overlay sensor data onto the crews visors as they operate the vehicle, offering a substantial increase in situational awareness compared to effectively all other tanks in service.

It’s also been noted that the commanders RCWS is able to be slaved to the commanders HUD, meaning that the commander can aim the MG turret and its optics by simply moving his head.

Also, the entire vehicle weighs no more then 45 metric tonnes.

What does this equate to in practical terms?

This thing is the AFV equivalent of the starship enterprise right now. Because its already reported to be in limited service, China’s managed to beat all the other contenders to the punch when it comes to getting a tank with an unmanned turret onto the field. That’s impressive, especially since nobody knew of this machine until a few early prototype pictures leaked a couple months ago, and it became more widely known with photos of the parade rehearsal. It may not be the first one designed, but the first to serve is very impressive.

Technologically, its out competing everyone else currently. While the US and much of Europe have discussed fielding hybrid powerpacks for the better part of the last two decades, nobody else has a serving example. The CITV and RCWS are also ahead of the game given the motion tracking. This is to say nothing of the GL-6, which thanks to the inclusion of the vertical launch tubes, confirms itself as being ready to deal with top attack munitions, something that cannot be said about really any other hard kill APS on the market.

With all the good, there is a practical knock against it, and that’s the gun. At 45 tonnes, carrying a 105mm cannon is a questionable move, even with the rumors of China’s latest sabots making the AT performance between the 105mm and 120/125mm class cannons largely negligible.

Of course, it also only weighs in at 45 tonnes. This thing can go places where a lot of prospective opponents, particularly American armour, cannot hope to deploy to. Certainly not reliably at least.

The end result is a fire support asset with at a glance, phenomenal protection and mobility. China now has an exceptional asset for expeditionary forces and regional conflicts.

Marry Me Chicken

It is said that serving this to a man will elicit an immediate marriage proposal. It is that good! But it could also refer to the marrying of flavors in this delicious dish. Either way, it’s a keeper!

Marry Me Chicken recipe

Prep: 15 min | Cook: 20 min | Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

  • 8 ounces angel hair or vermicelli pasta*
  • 2 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • Salt, to taste
  • Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
  • 2 tablespoons butter
  • 2 tablespoons oil
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2 cup chicken broth, divided
  • 1/4 cup whipping cream
  • 1/2 cup freshly shaved Parmesan cheese
  • 1 pinch red pepper flakes
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground thyme
  • 1 (6.3 ounce) jar sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained and roughly chopped
  • 1/4 cup thinly sliced fresh basil

Instructions

  1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil over medium-high heat. Season the water generously with salt. Add the pasta and cook until al dente according to the package directions. Drain and set aside. Keep warm.
  2. Cut chicken breasts horizontally to make two chicken cutlets.
  3. In a shallow dish, mix together the flour, salt and pepper. Coat all four pieces of chicken with this mixture.
  4. Heat the butter and oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the coated chicken breasts and cook for 3 to 4 minutes on each side, or until they are golden brown and cooked through.
  5. Remove the chicken from the skillet and set aside.
  6. In the same skillet, add the minced garlic and cook for 1 to 2 minutes, or until fragrant.
  7. Stir in the chicken broth and whipping cream, deglazing the pot as you stir.
  8. Then add the Parmesan cheese, red pepper flakes, oregano and thyme. Stir together over low to medium heat.
  9. Add the sun dried tomatoes to the skillet and stir until the sauce is well combined. Continue stirring and on a low simmer for 5 minutes as the sauce thickens and bubbles.
  10. Add the chicken to the skillet for 10 more minutes, spooning the sauce over the chicken, until heated through.
  11. Garnish with freshly chopped basil, and serve warm over your favorite pasta.

Notes

* You can use any type of pasta you like or even rice or potatoes.

This dish may be stored in a covered airtight container for up to three days.

Attribution

Photo credit: irisphotos / CC BY

You’re the TV

Written in response to: “Center your story around someone who has (or is given) the ability to time travel.“

Carina Caccia

If you could travel to the future, would you? Would you risk knowing an outcome and thereby realising it, ensnared in a self-fulfilling prophecy that mightn’t have eventuated had you not known?On the nightstand sat a silver bowl like a miniature satellite dish or a metal hibiscus, an antenna in its centre.“So, it’s a time machine?” said Melissa, cross-legged on white sheets.“Not quite,” said Nora. “It’s a time dish – it collects signal, waves, from existing superpositions yet to be collapsed.”“Alternate realities, then?”“Alternate potential realities – or futures, I suppose.”“Here,” she said, handing Melissa a white cap from which wires grew like hair. “It’s an EEG cap. We typically use it to monitor brainwaves, but when attached to the dish, it transmits time directly to you. You’re the receiver – the TV, so to speak.”“I’m the TV?” said Melissa, pulling it on.“You’re the TV. Now sit back—” she plumped a cushion— “and make yourself comfortable. We need you in Hemi-Sync.”“Are you sure it’s safe? I mean, it can’t go wrong, really, can it?”“Melissa… We can postpone if you’re not ready.”Melissa sighed. “Are we ever?”She downed a glass of water, audible gulp, and closed her eyes. Inhale, exhale. And very quickly, from years of practice, she slipped into Theta.*Welcome mat like a large cork coaster, floral border in red and yellow and green. Melissa rang the doorbell and muffled Mozart played once, then twice. Her stomach curdled like milk – something was off.“I’m not answering,” she mumbled, eyes clamped shut, forehead vein like a vine.“Try the window,” said Nora, leaning back in her chair and biting the butt of her pen.And so Melissa did, she tried the window, stumbling over flowerpots, their occupants bowed and withering. The sliding of glass. A pane smudged with fingerprints. She squeezed through the frame, out of sunshine and birdsong, and into the silence of a pristine kitchen. Dishrack full, crockery so white it winked. Pessoa on the counter half-read, shadow of a white lace curtain projected across the checkered linoleum.Fridge, empty. Instant noodles in the pantry. A Snickers wrapper in the otherwise empty bin. There was little else there in the kitchen – uninhabited, it almost seemed.Melissa peered into the next room – unopened letters in the hallway beneath the front door. She leant down only to find her full name, as small as thread, in each of the envelope windows. Red stripes, red stamps. Her stomach sank.“Is everything alright?” came Nora’s voice as though over a PA system.

Melissa didn’t respond – a smell, something sickly sweet like rotten meat, lured her down the hall to the bathroom door where she turned the knob.

A strangling stench. Her head throbbed. A buzz as loud as a beehive – and a fly, green and bottle-eyed, diving through the crack.

Melissa? Nora’s voice, ignored.

Wine bottle on the floor. Aluminium blister pack, like a domino, empty.

A hand—Melissa gagged—a hand, swarmed with black and white, overhanging the bathtub. Grains of rice, only grains of rice – squirming grains of rice.

Her insides emptied themselves onto the tiles. Burning throat and nose, acid eyes, maggot-ridden mind, and swarming flies. Retreated – she retreated, stumbling.

*

Nora was monitoring the screen, sipping at green tea, when Melissa’s brainwaves shot from Theta into Gamma.

Thud of porcelain against wood as Nora abandoned her cup and rose to her feet.

A metre away Melissa removed the cap with jittery hands, as careful as one in a minefield. Don’t move. Stillness. And the silver time dish, like a metal frill-necked lizard, seemed to glare at her, an inanimate object registering, at least to her nervous system, as a threat. Frozen and wide-eyed she sat.

“What did you see?” asked Nora, hurrying to her bedside.

No response.

Nora knelt on the white carpet and took Melissa’s hand in hers. Cold and clammy, it was, nail beds turnip white.

“It’s not fixed, Melissa. What you saw – it isn’t fixed.”

At this, Melissa lifted her head and the women’s eyes locked like a Chinese finger trap. Neither blinked for a minute. A transmission of sorts.

“All it means,” said Nora, “is that your energy is in homogeneity with that future right now.” She’d had this conversation before – once, believe it or not, on the receiving end. She rose from the carpet, poured a second cup of tea.

Melissa accepted, hands abuzz like a room with voices. And the tea, it rocked, it sloshed against the cup’s lip.

“So,” she managed, swallowing, “I’m on a collision course with that future?” as though it were a meteoroid hurtling towards her.

“You could say that. But it isn’t real, not yet.”

“So, what is it if not real?”

“A potential reality,” said Nora. “And judging by your reaction, one that you’d like to avoid.”

“Right, and how so?”

“Change.”

“But grief has become my identity,” managed Melissa. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

“You’re the TV.”

“What do you mean?”

“You receive signal but at the end of the day it’s you who turns it into something – into images, sound, reality. You convert the invisible into something perceptible, something real.”

“But it was all already out there, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly – there are a million superpositions waiting to be collapsed, to be realised. But whatever signal you pick up, whatever you’re in consonance with, is ultimately what you bring into fruition, what you collapse into being.”

Melissa nodded. Pursed her lips. Something was still shaken behind her eyes.

“You’re not grief,” said Nora. “You’re just vibrating at that frequency.”

“Right.”

“So, what did you see?”

Self-fulfilling prophecies – not only do they work backwards; they work forwards, too. It’s no mystery you go wherever you believe you’re going, and you needn’t a time machine, a time dish or clues to tell you as much. Because despite your doubt and disillusionment, your deterministic sense of defeat, your damning naïveté and foredooming self-deceit, you – you’re the TV. What, don’t you believe me?

What is an example of when your dog puts two and two together?

Many years ago, my then wife and I and our two toddlers brought home a rescue German Shepherd. Some weeks or months later, we were sitting on the front porch watching the kids play in the front yard. This was in an older city neighborhood with big back yards and narrow front yards, a sidewalk, a “boulevard”, and then the street.

Well, anyway a couple of times one or the other of the kids wandered into the street and I, or my wife, ran out to them, gave them a little swat (on their diapered butt), said “no, no, don’t play in the street” a, led them back into the yard. After a few times of us doing this, as the kid once again head for the street, the dog ran up to them, got between them and the street, and “herded” them back into the yard. She (IIRC) did this several more times until, either, the kids stopped going into the street, or we went into the house.

Why do so many people like Keanu Reeves?

Keanu Reeves isn’t your ordinary celebrity. Far from it.

Keanu Reeves is a famous actor around the world. Known for movies such as ‘The Matrix’, John Wick, just to name a couple… the list goes on and on.

It’s not only his acting skills and good looks, but everyone loves him. The main reason? Because he’s such a humble and down to earth person.

He’s the opposite of your typical celebrity.

Do you know any celebrity that takes the subway? Or flies economy class? Or takes a walk in the park and enjoys his sandwich on the park bench?

I would never have thought it was possible, but Keanu Reeves does all these seemingly “ordinary” things.

That’s right. That’s Keanu Reeves taking the subway in New York. Just like everyone else.

Despite his success and millions in the bank, he doesn’t drive a fancy car. Instead, he commutes using public transportation.

So what does he do with all his money?

He gives most of it away to charity and to help others in need. After the Matrix movies made more than $1 billion in the box office, Keanu took home an estimated $75 million.

He gave each member of the FX and costume teams $1 million. And he also gifted the entire stunt team Harley Davidson motorbikes.

Who wouldn’t love this man? He’s so humble, generous, famous but doesn’t care about his fame.

He should be a role model for all the celebrities out there. That just because you’ve found fame and success, you shouldn’t forget about the ordinary things.

Hope this has been an interesting read!

Which historical or political fact would surprise a lot of people?

I’m sure many people must have heard of the financier and investment banker J.P. Morgan (1837–1913), one of the most prominent figures in the history of the United States in terms of its economy. He was known for having bailed out the US government during the financial panics of 1895 and 1907 and saving the American economy from collapse, for spearheading the formation of industrial giants like General Electric, U.S Steel, and American Harvester, for reorganising and stabilising many railroads, and of course, for founding founding the firm that’s now called J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. He was also called a “robber baron” for his cutthroat-capitalistic and monopolistic tendencies.

If you look at his official photos, he’ll come across like this:

Looks completely normal aside from a slightly large nose. Doesn’t it?

However, this isn’t what he normally looked like, and the photo has undergone touch-ups.

Why?

It’s because J.P. Morgan suffered from a condition called rhinophyma, a condition characterised by a bulbous, enlarged nose with thick, red skin, visible pores, and a bumpy, lumpy surface. Due to this condition, he actually looked like this:

He was extremely protective of his public image, due to which he would make sure that his nose didn’t appear like this in his photos. He would demand that the photographers retouch the negatives or prints to remove imperfections, soften wrinkles, and make his nose look normal.

Which is why, whenever someone took his photo without him knowing (provided Morgan found out), he would become enraged. Here’s one example:

He didn’t just do this out of body insecurity. He also did this because he believed that coming across as a dominant, commanding figure and controlling how he appeared in newspapers, magazines, and journals helped him maintain influence over the investors, the government, and the public. Not to forget how having no imperfections is often seen as a symbol of wealth and sophistication (which is still the case).

Turns out that Stalin was not the only moustache guy obsessed with retouching photos.

What a Polish Teacher Saw in New York Schools Will Shock You: A WARNING for America

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ksnip 20250922 065455