It’s raining outside. Lovely.
I used to hate rain, because it was uncomfortable and made me wet. And I felt the same with snow. It made me miserable and cold and I had to do extra work.
Now, being older, well, I just don’t care.
I avoid getting wet, and just take my time. No one freaks out and looks at me American style if I am delayed due to rain, or dropping droplets on the floor because I am wet. That’s just an ugly American thing.
You know guys, the longer that I am away from the USA, the more I realize just how FUCKED UP IT IS.
This is a truth.
So anyways, I am just watching the rain from my office window. I’m listening to the birds. The puddles and the drip drip.
Nice.
I should have appreciated it much earlier.
But, you know, I appreciate it now. That is all that matters.
Today…
Iran Torpedoed a Warship Off Sri Lanka — 3,500 Miles From the Navy America Eliminated
America declared Iran’s navy eliminated two weeks ago. Forty-three Iranian naval vessels destroyed or damaged.
The IRGCN surface fleet degraded. The naval threat substantially reduced. Then the IRIS Dena — an Iranian conventional navy frigate that was never in the Persian Gulf, never among the seventeen vessels America sank, never in any American naval operation’s target list — fired a torpedo in waters off Sri Lanka.
Three thousand five hundred miles from Iranian naval bases. In the Indian Ocean corridor that global shipping has been using as the alternative to the closed Strait of Hormuz specifically because it was assessed as outside the Iranian naval threat envelope.
The alternative route that was providing the oil market’s ceiling on price escalation.
The corridor that was keeping supply moving when Hormuz was closed. Iran just demonstrated it can reach it. With a torpedo. From a frigate that was pre-positioned in the Indian Ocean before this conflict began. In this video, we break down:
Why the IRIS Dena is not an IRGCN vessel — and why the declaration that Iran’s navy was eliminated was accurate about one force and completely silent about the conventional Iranian Navy that was already in the Indian Ocean when that declaration was made
Why a frigate pre-positioned off Sri Lanka before the conflict began is not an improvised response — and what the months of operational planning that placed it there reveals about how comprehensively Iran planned for a conflict that America assessed as a short 4-6 week operation What the torpedo off Sri Lanka does to the alternative maritime routing that global shipping has been using as the Hormuz workaround — and why completing the triangle of Iranian maritime threat across Hormuz, the Red Sea, and the Indian Ocean removes the ceiling from the oil price calculation
Why this is the fourth official assessment this conflict has operationally contradicted — and what the pattern of four simultaneous failures in four separate domains reveals about Iranian operational security versus Western intelligence collection What India — the major power whose strategic ocean was just used for an Iranian torpedo attack without India’s consent — is calculating this morning and why India’s response is the most diplomatically consequential reaction to any single development since this conflict began
Sources:
- reuters.com
- navytimes.com
- defensenews.com
- centcom.mil
- bloomberg.com
Iran just torpedoed a US Military Sealift Command cargo ship in the Indian Ocean — 3,500 miles from the Persian Gulf — sinking $800 million in tanks, armored vehicles, ammunition, and Patriot missile components that were meant to resupply American bases running critically low.
An Iranian Kilo class submarine fired two torpedoes south of Sri Lanka, hitting the MV Cape Orlando carrying 14 Abrams tanks, 22 Bradley fighting vehicles, and 380 tons of ammunition.
The ship sank in 1,800 meters of water. Iran spent $2.4 million. America lost $800 million. Return on investment: 333 to 1. And the submarine has not been found.
In the US, if a person is found guilty of a state or federal crime in court by the Jury, can a Judge refuse to sentence that person to prison or jail for the crime they were found guilty of committing?
Louise Woodward has entered the chat.
In February of 1997, Loise Woodward was working as au pair, taking care of 8-month-old Matthew Eappen. Eappen suffered a fractured skull and subdural hematoma. He died from his injuries.
With such a violent death, authorities turned their focus towards the au pair. Under questioning, Woodward spoke of when the injuries occurred. She told police she’d “popped” the baby onto a hard surface. In the USA, to pop something indicates some amount of force was involved. But Woodward was British, where “popped” roughly translates to the US “placed.” This misunderstanding led to her being charged with first degree murder.
At trial, the jury found her guilty of the lesser charge of 2nd-degree murder. However, Judge Hiller B. Zobel, threw out the jury’s verdict and convicted her of involuntary manslaughter. What could have been a sentence of 15 years to life in prison was reduced to only 9 months and 9 days.
In the US, it is common for a judge to issue a suspended sentence. This is often done for first time offenders who have committed minor or non-violent crimes. The case of Louise Woodward shows that a judge can actually throw out a jury’s conviction and replace it with lesser charges or even acquittal.
Americans Shocked by Tariff Bills Arriving in Their Mailboxes
The Astrocracy
Written in response to: “Set your story in a world where astrology and the movements of celestial bodies deeply impact the lives of inhabitants.“
A. L. Cranston
In the sprawling metropolis of Nova City, the stars reign supreme and destiny is etched in the stellar tapestry above. Citizens navigate a panoply of astrological mandates with their fates predetermined by the alignment of planets and the whispers of ancient prophecies dictated by Sol, leader of the city and the embodiment of zodiacal authority on Earth. Born under the shadow of a dreaded astrological sign, Eris has long chafed against the constraints imposed by the Astrocracy. She now heads a faction of earthbound insurgents, known as the Clayborn, who dare to defy the galactic decree.
Eris’s administrative position gives her access to the inner workings of the Astrocracy, and in her search for any information to aid the rebels, she has stumbled upon a hidden cache of encrypted data, containing classified information about Sol’s true motives and plans for the future of Nova City.
Among the files, Eris discovers evidence of Sol’s secret alliance with powerful astrological factions, clandestine dealings with corrupt officials, and plans to tighten their grip on the populace through a series of draconian measures.
But most chilling of all is the revelation that Sol harbors a dark and hidden agenda—to harness the power of a cataclysmic event known as the Celestial Convergence-intended to grant Sol ultimate power for all time.
Armed with this damning evidence, Eris knows that she holds the key to exposing Sol’s true intentions and rallying the people to join the rebellion’s stand against the Astrocracy’s tyranny.
With a final burst of speed, Eris emerges into a cavernous chamber. The dim glow of daylight filters in through a grate overhead and she hears her chasers take a wrong turn. The rebel hideout is within reach, just beyond the next bend in the tunnel. But in her haste to escape, she has unknowingly dropped her handkerchief–the one with a symbol of the rebellion on it, representing unity and defiance against the Astrocracy. The same mark can be found hastily etched onto the walls of the sewer tunnels to help navigate the labyrinthine passages. It’s a symbol recognized by those sympathetic to the cause, but also one that could spell doom for the rebellion if discovered by the wrong parties.
Eris races towards the safety of the Clayborn hideout, unaware that her oversight may lead the authorities straight to their doorstep. Finally, she reaches the entrance to the hidden sanctuary, its rough-hewn walls a stark contrast to the gleaming spires of Nova City above. She reaches for her hanky to wipe the sweat from her brow, but it’s not in her pocket. If the Celestial Constabulary can connect the lost scrap of cloth to the matching emblems in the tunnels, it would surely betray the rebels’ presence in the city’s underbelly. Eris realizes the danger she has unwittingly unleashed, but there is no time for regret, no room for hesitation.
She must share her warning.
Breathless and weary from her journey, Eris pushes open the heavy door and steps into the dimly lit chamber, where the rebel leaders await her arrival with trepidation. Ragged, her heart pounding with urgency, she is met with a chorus of concerned faces drawn with worry, their eyes reflecting the dim light of the fire.
“Eris, you’ve returned!” Luna exclaimed. Eris could sense relief wash over her friend as they embrace. “What news do you bring?”
She gravely approaches the assembled rebel leaders, her voice trembling with the weight of the information she carries.
“I’ve uncovered something,” Eris begins, her words rushed yet deliberate. “Something that threatens us all—Sol’s plans for the Celestial Convergence.”
The room falls silent, the gravity of Eris’s words gnaw the air. The Clayborn exchange incredulous glances.
“The Celestial Convergence?” Rory echoes, her voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s… that’s impossible.”
Eris nods solemnly, her expression grave. “I wish it were, but it’s true.”
The room erupts into murmurs of disbelief and fear as the Clayborn grapple with the enormity of the threat they face. But amidst the chaos, Eris’s voice rings out with unwavering resolve.
“We cannot let this happen,” she declares, her eyes blazing. “We must rally our forces and stand against the Astrocracy with everything we have. The fate of Nova City—and our freedom—depends on it.”
The Clayborn rebels recognize that they cannot defeat the Astrocracy alone. They embark on a campaign to gather allies from all walks of life, from sympathetic factions within the city to former members of the council who have grown disillusioned with Sol’s rule.
Knowing that the city’s leadership relies heavily on astrological infrastructure to maintain control, the rebels target key installations and facilities, sabotaging astrological observatories, disrupting communication networks, and undermining the credibility of its mandates. By sowing chaos and confusion within the Astrocracy’s ranks, they pave the way for revolution.
With the revelation of Sol’s plans and the growing discontent among the populace, the Clayborn launch a propaganda campaign to mobilize the masses. They distribute pamphlets, broadcast messages of defiance, and organize protests and demonstrations, spreading word of the rebellion and inspiring hope throughout Nova City.
As tensions escalate and the Astrocracy’s grip on power weakens, the rebels prepare for a final showdown with Sol and his loyalists. They arm themselves and prepare to storm the heart of Nova City where Sol’s power is strongest. In a climactic battle below the Zodiac Palace, the rebels face off against the Sol and his council. The Clayborn advance on the city’s army, but they are quickly overpowered due to Sol’s control over cosmic energy.
Meanwhile, Eris goes alone to the Zodiac Palace to face her greatest adversary. Sol, resplendent in his regal robes and adorned with the symbols of his divine power, regards Eris with eyes like twin stars burning.
“You cannot defy the planets, Eris,” Sol’s voice rang out through the palace chamber like a thunderclap. “Your rebellion is futile. Surrender now, and perhaps your punishment will be merciful.”
With a flick of his wrist, Sol unleashes a dazzling light beam that threatens to consume Eris in its fiery embrace. Eris stands her ground, her own inner strength shielding her from the attack.
“I will never surrender to tyranny, Sol,” she declared. “The people have risen against you, and your reign of oppression will crumble beneath the weight of our defiance.”
Sol, his form wreathed in shimmering starlight, raises his hands skyward, calling upon a swirling vortex which he hurtles towards Eris with unstoppable force.
Eris reacts by emitting her own magical barrier of shimmering energy to deflect Sol’s powerful blast. As the celestial energies collide, the air crackles with electricity, warping and twisting the very fabric of reality under the strain. Eris grits her teeth, her muscles tremble with the effort of holding back Sol’s relentless assault. With a primal roar of defiance, she pushes against the onslaught and her own energies merge with Sol’s.
For what feels like an eternity, the two adversaries lock horns in a titanic struggle, and the Zodiac Palace echoes with the sound of their clash. At last, in a final burst of light and power, Eris unleashes her full strength, channeling the very essence of the Clayborn rebellion into a single, decisive blow shattering Sol’s defenses, sending the astral tyrant reeling backwards in shock and disbelief. As Sol’s form dissolves into a swirling pool of light, Eris stands victorious, her heart pounding with exhilaration and relief. The battle below the palace is also triumphant for the Clayborn as the remaining astrocrats flee for their lives.
Now the hard work begins.
With the Astrocratic regime dismantled, a new system of governance based on democratic principles is formed. Recognizing the deep divisions and wounds inflicted by years of oppression, the new Clayborn Republic prioritizes reconciliation and healing. They establish commissions to address past injustices, promote dialogue and understanding between former adversaries, and provide support to those affected by Sol’s reign of terror. Despite their victory over the Astrocracy, the new Clayborn Republic remains vigilant against the resurgence of social hierarchy. They establish mechanisms for celestial oversight to ensure that no individual or group can wield unchecked power or exploit vulnerabilities. They invest in education, healthcare, and social services to uplift marginalized communities.
As a new dawn breaks over Nova City, the Clayborn Republic leads their fellow citizens into a brighter future guided by their choices on Earth, not by the edict of the stars.
The Moon Shouldn’t Exist – Here’s Why
Fried Chicken Gizzards
Not everyone loves gizzards, but this is a very good recipe if you do!
Ingredients
- Chicken gizzards
- Salt
- Pepper
- Garlic powder
- Poultry seasoning
- Sage
- Cajun seasoning
- Self-rising flour to coat
- Oil for frying
Instructions
- Rinse the gizzards well. Boil the gizzards with a little meat tenderizer until they are done. Pat dry with a paper towel.
- Season to taste. Coat with flour. Place in hot cooking oil in a Dutch oven or cast iron skillet (be careful). Cover with a lid to help reduce splattering. Also, when a lid is placed over any frying food, it helps to keep it moist. Watch carefully as this doesn’t take long!
Why do countries prefer not to buy US soybeans, and are there more attractive options available for them?
Why do countries not want to buy US soybeans?
One word – Trump.
Trump lost the U.S. soy bean market to China, who decided that Brazil was an easier country to deal with. That market won’t be going back to the USA anytime soon.
And with Beef – China has not renewed its beef contracts with 300 U.S. beef producers, and is now buying more Australian beef instead.
Now a similar story is repeating with corn.
And it’s happening in manufacturing too – Trumps tariffs are increasing the cost of manufacturing goods in the USA which makes companies like John Deere, GM, GE. Ford and other decide to reduce manufacturing in the U.S. and increase it outside the U.S., mostly in Mexico where there are no import tariffs so the retail prices of their tractors, jet engines, cars etc stay competitive in the world markets those companies sell into.
Then only ONE country sees the higher prices – the USA.
Trump is wrecking the U.S. economy as fast as he can.
Americans Find Heartwarming Stories on Chinese App RedNote
Sir Whiskerton and the Power of Persistence
Or: When a Kitten Learns to Meow Louder—And Gets Results
Introduction
Dear reader, prepare for a tale of determination, diplomacy, and decibels. Today’s story follows Ditto the Echoing Kitten as he learns an important lesson from Sir Whiskerton: “If you’re not getting what you want, meow louder.”
When the farmer ignores the animals’ requests for treats, Sir Whiskerton steps in to teach Ditto—and the rest of the barnyard—the value of persistence. From subtle hints to full-blown operatic meows, this is one farmyard commotion you won’t soon forget.
So grab your earplugs (and perhaps a jar of snacks), as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Power of Persistence.
Act 1: The Stubborn Jar of Treats
It was a quiet morning on the farm when the animals gathered around the feed shed, their eyes fixed on a stubborn jar of treats sitting proudly on the counter.
“We’ve been asking nicely for days,” Doris the Hen clucked indignantly. “But does he listen? No!”
The farmer walked by, humming to himself and completely ignoring the growing chorus of complaints.
Ditto tugged at Sir Whiskerton’s tail nervously. “What do we do? He’s not paying attention!”
Sir Whiskerton adjusted his monocle with a knowing smile. “Ah, young Ditto,” he began, “sometimes, polite requests aren’t enough. If you’re not getting what you want, meow louder.”
Act 2: The Lesson in Meowing
Sir Whiskerton led Ditto to a sunny patch beneath the old oak tree.
“A meow is more than just a sound,” Sir Whiskerton explained, settling into the grass. “It’s a declaration. A demand. A symphony of self-expression. And if subtlety doesn’t work…” He paused dramatically. “…turn it up a notch.”
Ditto blinked, processing this wisdom. “So… I should meow louder?”
“Precisely,” Sir Whiskerton replied. “Now, let’s practice.”
Ditto took a deep breath and let out a tiny, hesitant meow.
“That’s a start,” Sir Whiskerton said diplomatically. “But remember, persistence is key. Let’s try again.”
This time, Ditto’s meow echoed across the farm, startling a nearby squirrel.
“Better,” Sir Whiskerton praised. “Now, let’s put it to the test.”
Act 3: The Great Meow-Off
Ditto approached the farmer, who was busy watering plants that clearly didn’t need water.
“MEEEEEEEEEOW!” Ditto cried, his tiny voice shaking the air like a foghorn.
The farmer jumped, nearly dropping his watering can. “What in the world?!”
Sir Whiskerton sauntered up, looking every bit the regal diplomat. “Because subtlety is overrated,” he declared, flicking his tail dismissively.
The other animals joined in, creating a cacophony of meows, quacks, clucks, and oinks that could rival a symphony.
“Alright, alright!” the farmer finally shouted, covering his ears. “You win! Take the treats!”
Act 4: Victory and Reflection
With the jar of treats safely distributed among the animals, the farm erupted in cheers. Even Chef Remy LeRaccoon arrived, holding a tray of suspiciously glowing muffins.
“These are Celebration Muffins™,” he announced proudly. “Guaranteed to amplify your meow—or cause indigestion!”
The animals exchanged wary glances but couldn’t help laughing.
That evening, Sir Whiskerton addressed Ditto privately under the stars.
“Today, you learned a valuable lesson,” he said, sipping a cup of moonlit tea. “Sometimes, you need to speak up to be heard. Whether it’s through words, actions, or a well-timed meow, persistence pays off.”
Ditto purred softly, feeling a warm glow in his chest. “I’ll remember that, Sir Whiskerton. Thank you.”
“As will I,” Sir Whiskerton replied, smiling. “Now, go rest—you’ve earned it.”
Post-Credit Scene
Chef Remy unveiled his newest invention: Amplified Meow Powder™, designed to make any animal’s meow ten times louder (and slightly radioactive).
“These are safe, right?” Doris asked nervously.
Remy grinned. “Only slightly.”
Cue horrified squawks.
Moral of the Story
Sometimes, you need to speak up to be heard—but don’t forget to use your voice wisely.
Best Lines
- “If you’re not getting what you want, meow louder.” – Sir Whiskerton, imparting wisdom.
- “Because subtlety is overrated.” – Sir Whiskerton, defending loud meows.
- “MEEEEEEEEEOW!” – Ditto, channeling his inner diva.
Key Jokes
- The farmer’s bewildered reaction to the animals’ symphony of sounds adds slapstick humor.
- Chef Remy’s glowing muffins spark both curiosity and concern.
- Sir Whiskerton’s dramatic declaration about subtlety being overrated elicits chuckles.
Starring
- Sir Whiskerton (Wise Mentor/Feline Diplomat)
- Ditto the Echoing Kitten (Persistent Meower)
- The Farmer (Baffled Human)
- Chef Remy LeRaccoon (Mad Scientist of Snacks)
Summaries
- Moral: Persistence pays off—sometimes, you need to speak up to be heard.
- Future Potential: Could Ditto become the farm’s official spokesperson? Or will Chef Remy invent a way to bottle amplified meows?
Until next time, may your meows be mighty and your treats plentiful. 🐱
Why does the Army require experience before letting you try for Delta Force, while the Navy brings in civilians for SEAL training?
The Navy doesn’t bring in civilians for SEAL training. If someone’s in the SEAL training pipeline, that person is not a civilian.
They’re an active duty member of the United States Navy. They’ve signed a contractual agreement to serve for a period of four to six years. They don’t enjoy the same First Amendment rights that civilians do. (That’s why you see so many sitting Presidents giving commencement speeches at military academies rather than state or private universities.) Basically, if you’re training to be a SEAL, the Navy owns your ass.
The difference you’re alluding to has more so to due with the duration of one’s military experience. Let’s say you’re fresh out of high school. Provided that you have the requisite ASVAB scores and you’ve passed the Physical Screening Test, you can request a SEAL contract. That doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed to get that contract – it’s a very competitive process. And, even if you get the contract, it sure as shit doesn’t mean you can call yourself a SEAL. It just means that you have an opportunity to train to become a SEAL.
There’s no analogous contract for Delta Force. If you enlist in the Army fresh out of high school, you can’t try out for Delta. You can be a total PT stud. You can have amazing ASVAB scores. You can be an experienced three gun competitor who has won numerous awards…it does not matter. If you’re not 21-years-old and an E-4 (at least), you’re not going to selection.
As for the why? It all goes back to Colonel Charles Alvin Beckwith, the man who founded Delta.
When Colonel Beckwith was recruiting for Delta, he wasn’t necessarily interested in the soldiers who were the fittest, or the most decorated. He was interested in soldiers who had demonstrated their ability to lead others and displayed good judgment throughout their careers. A soldier coming straight out of basic hasn’t had an opportunity to showcase either of those qualities in military life. Thus why the typical Delta operator is older and has more military experience than the typical, non-DEVGRU SEAL.
Mossad Connection To 9/11 PROVEN!
Pictures
Have you ever tried to annoy a scammer who called you? If so, what happened?
Ok. Around two years back, when the “digital arrest” scam started breaking out in India and even the RBI was unaware of it, I got a call from these blokes telling me they were from the customs office and they have found a package in my name carrying 5 kgs of the dreaded M drugs, and they’re transferring the call to the residen police station who will help me resolve the issue. Before I could react, I was talking to that police officer, who in a calm tone explained me how serious was this offence and stuff, and that he’s sending me a link through text, which I must open to join a video call.
By now, I was 💯 % certain this was a scam, but I thought let me enjoy a little. I clicked the link and I was ported into a real-like police station with all the props etc., and this officer looking at me gravely. When our eyes met, the first thing he told me was that, even as he was ascertaining how he can help me resolve the issue, I must not end the call, otherwise I’ll be arrested physically. I calmly told him I’m there. At the same time, luckily, I had my other phone with me. I immediately video-called one of my friends – a Director General of Police of a state – and told him about the whole affair unfolding live. He too chuckled and asked me to show the screen to that guy in the police station on the other phone.
The moment he saw an imposing DGP on his screen with me, two of his mates immediately scooted off the scene, and he started hiding his face. My DGP friend welcomed him with some delectable Punjabi expletives and within moments, that guy snapped the call.
Since I was a little worried about what will happen next, my friend tried calling back the number I got the initial call from, but seemed like the sim card had gone inactive.
Filethelia
Written in response to: “Set your story in a world where astrology and the movements of celestial bodies deeply impact the lives of inhabitants.“
Rubekkah Estero
I stand on the clifftops of Yapeche, my home for my entire life, and that of generations of Filethelias before me. If my destiny fails me here tonight, I may be the last.
The sun has finally fallen below the horizon, and the last colours are fading from the sky to be replaced by the dark of night. I glance down at the peninsula below me, where our men are locked in intense battle with the Rahulas. Seven months. They have battled for seven months. And tonight, it ends, with me.
The battle started in the mountains. My people were caught unawares by the Rahulas transiting the harsh mountain ranges to the west and ambushing the small towns that bordered them. We were caught unawares by their brutality, also. Too many civilians were lost in those initial months, before the battle was drawn away from the townships, and into the valleys. It has taken everything we have to position the Rahulas as they are now, on the peninsula. They see a strategic advantage, having their backs to the ocean. They must not see our plan.
But how could they? Nobody knows that the Yapeche people have been hiding the biggest secret our continent has ever known. Even they don’t know themselves. They have been hiding me. Anathea Filethelia. Third daughter of the King, and the only Cancer born for a century. I have lived my life in isolation, locked away from all who may have been family, friend or foe. Not even my two older sisters know that I exist. The risk is too great. Once I was old enough to be told the truth, I understood my father’s reasoning. I have lived in comfort. Luxury even. I have never wanted for anything, except for human connection.
To be born under the sign of Cancer was proclaimed illegal by my great great great grandfather after the battle of Tanthana, and the declaration of independence. With the moon transiting through Cancer once every month, the power of the Cancerians was too great. Too frequent. Yes, it had led us to our victory against the Tanthanians, but it was deemed to be incongruent with a peaceful society following it.
There is not a Yapechean alive who knows what that power was. Not even my father. It was never to be spoken of, in the hope that the collective trauma it had unleashed would heal with time. The only thing known is that the results were so horrific that to be born under the sign became punishable by death at the coming of age- a fate that no family would assign their child intentionally. Mine included. Had I not had the misfortune of being born six weeks prematurely, I would have been born under the sign of Leo, as my mother and father had intended. As it was, my mother was forced to give birth to me in secret, with no attendant other than my father. It fell to him to break the news to our people that my mother and her unborn child had perished during childbirth, and then to secret me away in the furthest wing of the palace to live my life in hiding.
The light is gone now, and the silvery moon is high. I can feel its energy pulsing through me. It feels different tonight. And of course, it is different. I am of age. The first moon in Cancer since my eighteenth birthday two weeks ago, and it is a full moon.
I close my eyes and feel the energy course over my body. It feels like subtle vibrations. A pulse in my veins, stronger than that transporting my blood, but not by much. I wonder how I will know when I am ready. I may only have one chance. If I do not succeed, if the plan is exposed, our people will have no way forward. The Rahulas’ reinforcements are expected by boat any hour. Once they dock and storm up the beaches, they will make for the headlands, and the battle will be lost. We are outnumbered, and the only active power at present is coming from the transit of Venus through Taurus. The Taureans weave sensuality through all who come in contact with them. Great for reproduction of the species, but not so helpful for battle. I am our only hope.
I turn my attention to the palace. That is where the signal will come from. My father has briefed me thoroughly on the plan. Our men are in position. The Rahulas are in position. Our plan hinges on the hope that my power will be the same as the other water signs. When being born under the sign of Cancer was banned, my great great great grandfather couldn’t have forseen how important the power to wield water would prove to be for our people. The other water signs are redundant in this battle. The transit of Pluto through Scorpio occurs only once every 265 years, rendering our Scorpios useless. So, too the transit of Neptune through Pisces- not due for another 63 years. Our civilisation will be decimated by then.
No one remains alive from the last time Pluto transited Scorpio, but our folklore tells that during the transit, Scorpios had the power to wield the water of bodies of fresh water. Our townships certainly moved from the side of Lake Yapache into the ranges some time in the last two centuries. There is every chance that this was a necessity to avoid flooding events from unmitigated wields.
The last transit of Neptune through Pisces revealed the ability of those born under the sign to wield the water of the skies- the rain. Leading to my father’s theory- that I will have the power to wield the ocean and create a tidal wave of such height and intensity that I can eliminate the Rahulan army with one strike. Of course, I must get the magnitude just right. Too high, and I will take out our people as well. Too low, and the Rahulans will suffer from nothing worse than soggy footwear, and our plan will be exposed.
The power is building. It sways me now where I stand. Is it the pull of the tide I can feel? I am encouraged by that thought. My gaze remains fixed on the palace. I will not miss the signal and fail my people.
There it is. A flash in the window of my father’s chambers, followed by another. I breathe in deeply, as I have been taught, and focus all of my attention on my chest. It’s happening. The power intensifies. It flows through me. I close my eyes tightly and raise my arms. I picture the ocean rising. My heart feels as though it is caught in a vortex. Is it my blood swirling, or the power? I don’t know, but I close down any other thought than the rising of the ocean. I have to see it clearly. The exact point when I need to release.
I must trust my instinct, and hope that my whole-hearted will to save my people will be enough. It’s here. I hold it steady at what I think will be 25 metres above sea level, give or take. And then, I fill my lungs with the cool, salty night air and a release it with a roar that I don’t even recognise, as I throw my arms wide, driving the energy towards the peninsula. I don’t know for how long I roar. It can’t be an hour, though it feels like it. It must be a minute. But when I stop, it is too quiet. Not the quiet hum that I was expecting. Not the quiet hum of a distant victorious army cheering from the headland. But the quiet hum of a distant battle that continues, unperturbed. And when I think of it, the ocean didn’t roar either. Only I did. I open my eyes. The ocean is still. The tide ebbs and flows gently as it did before. There was no wave. It didn’t work.
I sink to my knees, overcome with despair. My body still vibrates with energy. How could this be? How is it possible? I did not wield. I have failed. A cry out again, this time, a guttural roar, filled with grief. The grief that I will never know the people I should call family. Friends who I’ve yet to meet, who miss me from their life without even knowing I should be there. Love and passion that I will never know. If my people somehow find another way to win this war, I will remain in isolation. How can I show myself, knowing that I have failed? That’s if my father lets me live. If they don’t find another way, they will perish, and I will perish alongside them, never to know the feeling of connection with another human being. Never to know the divine vibration of fusion with a compatible sign. The despair engulfs my very being. I don’t know if I am still human. I think I may just be sorrow now.
The feeling of despair builds like a wave and I feel it crest. It is going to overwhelm me. I don’t know where I will end up, but I ride it. I don’t seem to have a choice. Again, my arms rise, I stretch tall, and then, when I think I might burst, the emotion bursts forth from me as a flay my arms wide. There is an atmospheric rumble that I can’t explain. It isn’t my voice. It’s the air around me, flowing through me, but not controlled by me.
I hear wailing. I open my eyes, my heart still clenched with emotional pain, but somehow slightly relieved from the release I have just experienced. What I see is beyond belief. Rahulas fall to the ground, clutching their chests. Their wails permeate the night air, piercing through the quiet ocean sounds, and the battle cries of the Yapeche. They fall, and they don’t rise again. They are dying. Defeated.
I don’t let go. I don’t let go of the emotional turmoil I still feel inside me, knowing now, in my very being, that it is my despair that brings them to their knees. No wonder those like me were deemed too dangerous, too threatening to live amongst society. I don’t wield water. I wield emotion. A wave of endless hopelessness and anguish is what brings the enemy to their knees and makes them yield.
I watch as my people take control of the peninsula and know that the war is won. My own fate is unknown. When my father knows what I have done here tonight, I know not what he will do. What can he do? Does he really have a choice? A weapon as powerful as this, with the ability to be unfurled once each month during the transit of the moon through Cancer, could be catastrophic if misused. But then, I am his daughter. Perhaps I wield some emotion for that reason alone.
Slowly, I realise I can let go. I can surrender. My people are safe now. A fresh feeling washes over me. Relief? Triumph? Acceptance. My purpose is fulfilled. Whatever happens now is superfluous. I may never know love, but my love for those I have never known was enough.
Orange Cinnamon Chicken
The aroma of this dish is heavenly as it cooks, the spicy warm smell of cinnamon mixed with energizing citrus is sure to bring them to the table fast.
Ingredients
- 4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon pepper
- 1/2 cup mandarin orange sections, drained and chopped
- 1/4 cup orange juice
- 3 tablespoons orange marmalade
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Instructions
- Flatten chicken breasts to 1/4 inch thickness with a meat mallet or rolling pin.
- In a small bowl, combine orange sections, orange juice, marmalade and cinnamon. Set aside.
- Sprinkle chicken with salt and pepper.
- Coat a large nonstick skillet with cooking spray, heat over medium high heat.
- Add chicken, cook for 3 to 4 minutes until lightly browned.
- Turn chicken, reduce heat to medium low and cook for 2 to 3 minutes longer.
- Pour orange mixture over chicken, then heat for 3 to 4 minutes until heated through.
CHINA’S CHOICE TO REMAIN PEACEFUL SHOULDN’T BE MISINTERPRETED! Why Is Israel Challenging China?
When do you think that China’s new HQ-29 missile defence system will become operational?
It’s already in operation.
The Chinese follow a simple 3-generation weapons procurement model.
Gen 1: the currently deployed system in limited/mass production.
Gen 2: the system in R&D slated for introduction in the short term.
Gen 3: the system being imagined and specced for development in the medium term as Gen 2 goes into limited production.
In general, what the PLA announces in public is already deployed, although numbers may be limited.
The HQ-29, along with the HQ-19, are already deployed, having made their public reveal. But the HQ-29 is such a strategic capability that the PLA is not providing official commentary, merely allowing the platform to be spotted in public.
The HQ-29 is equipped with huge missiles designed to kill targets in space, a capability china demonstrated about two decades ago, shooting down an old, deprecated satellite.
The HQ-29 is the analogue of the American Ground-Based Midcourse Defense (GMD), except the system is mobile rather than siloed in-situ. The missiles are 2.5x the diameter of THAAD interceptors.
What’s the worst freak accident you’ve ever heard of?
In 2011, a legless Iraq veteran rode the enormous “Ride of Steel” rollercoaster.
His name was Sgt. James Hackemer and he had lost both legs in Iraq. The rollercoaster, being of rather spectacular size, came with highly specific rules for use — people must be properly locked in, must hold on tight… and have to have two legs.
The manuel LITERALLY says that: “Riders must have both legs”. Mr. Hackemer evidently did not, but one of the ride attendants felt if he simply held on tight, the disabled veteran would be fine… the ride did not have a shoulder harness, however, so being in the posession of a healthy pair of legs was vital for the ride to be safely concluded. When Hackemer’s hat flew off at the highest point of the rollercoaster, he reached out to grab it with both hands, after which his legless body, no longer kept in place with his hands, was lifted from his seat by force of motion. He plunged to his death.
James Hackemer landed 150 meters away on a grassy area. He died instantly. Police found his dogtags from Iraq still on his person. Safety instructions — signed by the 19-year-old ride attendant — specifically said not to admit a person without legs.
The Fall of America’s Malls | How a Retail Empire Collapsed Into Ruins
Do you believe China’s claim that its joint navy drills with Russia are “defensive in nature and not directed against other countries”?
This military exercise is indeed a bit strange. I have a conspiracy theory thought, just casually saying it for a laugh.
At 7:24 AM Beijing time on July 30, 2025, an 8.8-magnitude earthquake struck the Russian Far East.
This is the sixth strongest earthquake in recorded human history.
Just over 100 kilometers from the epicenter lies the Russian Pacific Fleet’s nuclear submarine base.
Russia is currently in a tough spot, everyone knows in their hearts that its true deterrent force is its nuclear submarines. Putin reportedly once said, “Even if I have to sell the Kremlin, I will build the Borei-class submarines!”
With such a strong earthquake so close by, is it possible that an accident occurred involving a nuclear submarine?
I think there is a slight possibility.
On the afternoon of the day the earthquake occurred, the Chinese Ministry of National Defense announced that it would hold a joint naval exercise with the Russian Navy — the exercise location is not far from the Russian Pacific Fleet’s nuclear submarine base.
This could, of course, be a response to the 19-nation naval exercise held by the U.S. near Australia.
But the first announced objective of this exercise is “underwater rescue.”
What could be rescued underwater except submarines?
Otherwise what? Go salvage the Titanic? It’s been sunk for over 100 years—there’s probably nothing left to save.
Jack: Hang in there, darling! The 13,000-ton Chinese Navy rescue ship is almost here!
China has dispatched its most advanced 13,000-ton submarine rescue ship, the Xihu（841,WestLake）, and the supply ship Qiandaohu(1000 islands lake).
If this was to respond to the 19-nation exercise, shouldn’t more combat warships be sent? What’s the meaning of sending a 13,000-ton submarine rescue ship?
On August 4, U.S. President Trump suddenly quarreled with Medvedev, then announced that the U.S. would send two nuclear submarines toward Russia.
Very interesting. It’s not unusual for the U.S. to announce naval movements, but I can hardly recall them announcing nuclear submarine movements.
Just joining the party?
I estimate it’s possible that a Russian nuclear submarine really had an accident during the earthquake, such as running aground.
Currently, the Russian Navy’s maintenance is poor, and it lacks rescue and salvage capabilities.
Therefore, both sides immediately announced the joint exercise, which is actually a rescue operation?
Another suspicious point: one day later, on July 31, China unusually released a documentary on the Type 094 submarine.
All Chinese know the saying: “You don’t buy bronze vessels, and you don’t talk about things under the water (submarines).”
It means: The techniques for forging bronze artifacts are so advanced that for an ordinary person, buying a “bronze relic” is basically the same as willingly falling for a scam. There are exceptions, though—for example, a certain professor from Peking University’s archaeology department bought a genuine piece worth at least 30 million yuan for just 1,000 yuan and later donated it to the state. The seller had simply assumed, out of habit, that it must be a fake.
As for “not talking about what’s under the water,” we know that China’s most secretive military force is its nuclear submarines, so people avoid discussing them to prevent any risk of leaking sensitive information.
Most netizens cheered, saying: “This must mean a new generation of nuclear submarines has entered service, and the next generation is already in development.”
They’re not wrong—China’s military industry has always followed the approach of “eating one dumpling, holding another with your chopsticks, while eyeing the next one.”
Trust me,when the sixth-generation fighter jet takes to the skies, the Chinese people understand: the sixth-gen is about to enter mass deployment, the seventh-gen is halfway through development, and the eighth-gen has started its PowerPoint phase.
Trust me, it’s the same logic as eating dumplings.
So their speculation makes sense; it’s just that the timing is too much of a coincidence.
My guess is: Russia may have lost part of its nuclear submarine fleet, and China had to immediately step up to showcase its underwater nuclear strength, warning the U.S. not to attempt any nuclear adventurism.
~~~~
The above is some baseless speculation and conjecture I came up with based on Public News Released by Most Authoritative Chinese Media，Xinhua News Agency—basically nonsense, just bored and guessing. Don’t take it seriously, nobody should take it seriously…
~~~~
Several years ago, when Kim Jong-un visited China, his itinerary was top secret.
However, a Chinese middle school student posted his itinerary online, including where the train passed and how long it stopped…
It was 100% accurate. Security agencies investigated and found the kid deduced the schedule by observing changes in China’s train timetables (which gave way to Kim’s special train).
The intelligence officers were caught between laughter and frustration, leaving them utterly mortified.
Why are Democrats incapable of understanding that a universal healthcare system means doctors won’t be paid as much by taxes compared to under our current system? Additionally, too many people will see a doctor, so the quality will also go down.
There, did a five second Google search, because you couldn’t be bothered to.
Wow, it looks as though Canadian doctors make six figure salaries on average. Damn, almost as though they are doing just fucking fine up here, especially when they dont have to worry about malpractice suits, so doctors actually make more money on average up here, since they don’t have to worry about all those extra expenses Americans doctors do.
But hey, instead of attacking “Democrats”, you could actually spend a few minutes actually learning about the subject you’re attacking them for, so you don’t look like a complete moron when you make statements like this. Keep peddling those lies from the insurance industry, they really want you to keep believing them so their board members can own a third yacht.
BREAKING: Iran Just Hit Israel’s Last Working Water Plant — And the Taps Have Gone Dry
Iranian cluster missiles struck the last functioning water treatment and desalination facility in Israel’s national water network. Not the first facility. Not one of several. The last one. The facility that has been carrying the entire weight of Israel’s civilian water supply since every other node of the Mekorot network went offline. Cluster munitions specifically chosen to distribute simultaneous damage across every system in the facility simultaneously rather than creating a single repairable impact point. The intake infrastructure. The desalination membranes. The treatment processing equipment. The pumping systems. The control infrastructure. All of it. Hit simultaneously. The last water plant is not damaged. It is destroyed. And the taps that were running this morning are not running anymore.
• Why Iran chose cluster munitions specifically for the last water plant rather than the ballistic warheads used against every previous infrastructure target, what the difference between a single warhead impact point and hundreds of simultaneous sub-munition detonations distributed across an entire industrial facility footprint means for the distinction between a repair problem and a replacement problem
• What the difference between a water shortage, where rationing and emergency distribution can manage the gap between reduced supply and normal demand, and a water absence, where there is no supply to ration, means for the four million people whose emergency distribution is now attempting to substitute entirely for infrastructure that no longer exists
• Why the international humanitarian water response that the ICRC, UNICEF, and WHO are mobilizing for Israel’s civilian population is going to arrive on the logistics timeline that a closed airport and a conflict zone allows rather than the biological timeline that the civilian population’s survival requires and what the gap between those two timelines means in practical terms
• What the destruction of the last treated water source means specifically for the hospitals already on backup generator fuel, already managing surge casualty loads, that depend on water meeting specific purity standards for dialysis, surgical sterilization, and wound care that emergency distribution cannot provide at clinical grade on the required timeline
• How the use of cluster munitions against civilian water infrastructure is generating international legal and humanitarian responses under the Convention on Cluster Munitions and Additional Protocol I of the Geneva Conventions that are changing the international political environment in ways that previous strikes on military and strategic targets did not
• Why the allied governments that have been managing their domestic public support for Israel’s right to self-defense throughout this conflict are now managing a story that is not about military strikes on military targets but about cluster missiles destroying the last water plant and what that story does to the political sustainability of allied support
• What the simultaneous absence of power, water, airport connectivity, and external military support means for how long a civilian population of nine million people can sustain itself on a biological timeline rather than a military or strategic one Iran destroyed the last water plant with cluster missiles. The taps have gone dry. There is no restoration timeline. And the biological clock that started running the moment the sub-munitions hit is not a military clock. It is a human one.
Why isn’t 3D printing going to replace CNC milling anytime soon, even with all the hype around it?
3D printed part:
CNC-milled part:
Okay, so that’s not entirely fair. There are 3D printers that can print metal; SpaceX uses them to make rocket engines.
But here’s the thing:
Those 3D printers that print rocket engines and high quality metal parts? The machines cost hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars, and the parts they produce, usually by laser sintering, are eyewateringly expensive. CNC machines are cheap (I own one!) and inexpensive to run.
3D printers that an average person can afford are cheap, and the plastic is cheap, but they print coarse plastic parts. CNC machines that are in reach of anyone who wants one can carve metal parts with astonishingly tight tolerances. The parts are metal rather than plastic (though of course you can CNC mill plastic and wood as well), higher precision, with a better surface finish, better detail.
3D printing is better for disposable plastic parts or parts that aren’t subject to mechanical wear. CNC milling is better for literally everything else. I print molds for casting silicone on my 3D printers, but as soon as I get a handle on CNC machining, I plan to move away from 3D printed molds.
Why Women Over 40 Go Crazy (and Break Families Apart)
